After very nearly flunking the quiz (he was probably going to get a B, but he was still stressed out about how much that would affect his grade point average), Zane now had an additional thing to stress out over: his lack of black clothing.

"Meet 8 PM Rolling Hills West St. Wear black."

This crumpled note, which Wilson passed to him in the halls before English class, didn't give Zane anywhere near enough information about the night's activities. Where exactly on West Street were they meeting? Did he need to bring a weapon? And how the hell was he supposed to sneak out of his house at 8 o'clock at night? His parents weren't super strict, but they did actually care about where he might be going that late on a school night.

As for black clothing, Zane's options were some dress pants he'd worn to a great aunt's funeral and a black thermal t-shirt. He wasn't even sure why he owned a thermal t-shirt when he'd always lived in places where palm trees grew. There had been a family ski trip to Colorado one winter, but Zane had no memory of wearing that shirt on the trip.

He'd almost forgotten Tamiko was in this class. She spotted him and took the empty desk to his right. "I hear you guys are sneaking into Levi Marsh's house," she said.

Zane glanced around to see who had heard, and Tammy laughed. "Everyone knows," she said. "Wilson's in charge. He couldn't keep a secret to save his life."

"Great," Zane said, sliding down in his seat. "We're totally going to get arrested and I'm going to go to jail, and then I'll never get into Princeton."

"Princeton? Really? I'd pegged you for a Cornell boy, myself."

"My grandfather went to Princeton," he explained. "My dad didn't get in, so he's riding all his hopes on me."

"I know how that is," Tammy commiserated. "My parents want me to get into Juilliard. I don't think they have any concept of how hard that is. I'm not a saxophone prodigy or anything."

"My dad's expecting me to get a football scholarship to Princeton. I mean... I might be able to get something, but that's asking a lot."

"Plus, it's not like the saxophone is my reason for living. I want to design video games."

"Really? That's awesome. My brother Owen plays a lot of video games."

"Not you?"

"Not really. I spend most of my time studying."

"Ah."

There was an awkward pause in the conversation. Up until this point, Zane had been marveling at how easy conversation with Tammy was. As opposed to when he tried to talk to Harmony. He shook his head to dismiss the thought. It was mean to compare the two. They were different people. Individuals.

"How are things going with Harmony?" Tammy asked.

Zane let out a huge sigh. "Oh man. Terrible. It's so hard to talk to her, you know? She has so many walls. I know there's a wonderful person under there, but I don't know how to reach her."

Tammy blinked at him. "Yeah. I'm sure there's a totally great person under there. I guess I just have a hard time seeing past the person responsible for destroying my entire seventh grade experience."

He looked at Tammy. Behind her sarcasm, he could tell she'd been really hurt by the girl he wanted to get with. "What happened?" he asked.

"Stupid girl stuff," Tammy said, looking away.

Miss Devaney started class then, so Zane was left to wonder what kind of a girl Harmony truly was. Was she really the mean girl type who would pick on other girls until she basically ruined their lives? He couldn't really see Harmony doing any such thing. She didn't really seem to have an agenda. He had figured her standoffish attitude was because someone had hurt her in the past.

Then again, the first thing she'd ever said to him was making fun of his hair.

By the time the bell rang for the end of class, Zane realized he hadn't paid attention all period. Tamiko, it seemed, had had the same issue.

"I want in," she said, standing up and shoving her books into her bag.

"In on what?"

"Tonight. The recon mission. I want to come with you guys."

"I don't know..."

"Look, I play a lot of first-person shooter games. I've watched a lot of horror movies. You guys could use my expertise on this, trust me. No offense, but most of the football players aren't exactly gifted in the brains department. You're the one exception."

"What about Wilson? He's in most of the advanced placement classes with me."

"Oh, Wilson. I forgot about him." She waved her hand. "I guess he's not totally brain dead. I'll meet you at your house, and then we can go to the meet-up spot together."

"I'm not even sure I want to go on this mission," he said even as he ripped a corner off a notebook page and scribbled his address. "This is completely stupid. Some people got a skin disease, and suddenly we're trespassing and breaking and entering and who knows what other laws we're going to break."

"It'll be fine," Tammy said. "See you later. Oh - and don't tell Wilson I'm coming. He'll bust a nut."

***

"I cannot believe I am doing this," Zane muttered to Tammy. Oddly enough, getting out of the house hadn't been an issue. Tammy had shown up in full Mission: Impossible gear, including black army boots, a vest with pockets full of useful gadgets, and a knit cap, and still managed to sweet-talk his parents. She spun a tale of a project due the next day and a promise to get Zane back before midnight, and he and his black thermal shirt hit the dark, muggy California streets.

"We'll take your car," Tammy had ordered. "Wilson will know mine."

Zane didn't question how that might be. He just drove to the meet up site, where a traffic jam of expensive SUVs were now parked. "Well, this isn't obvious or anything," he said.

"Wilson," was Tammy's head-shaking response.

They found a spot to park, albeit with the front end in some scrub brush, and exited the vehicle. Zane was surprised to find himself now thinking in these terms: exiting the vehicle. Joining the recon team.

"Zane! Finally!" Wilson cried when they approached. "And... Tamiko." He spat out her name with as much venom as a cobra.

Tammy narrowed her eyes and countered with equal distaste. "Wilson. I should have known you'd be in charge of this disorganized mess."

"Redundant," Wilson retorted, then turned away to address the group. "Mason, you and your crew head up and form a perimeter. Ricky, I want your group at the south entrance with the surveillance equipment. My crew has already placed cameras and long-range mikes at points north, west, and southeast. Dylan, you're going to head up the infiltration on the pool side, north - wait, are you Dylan or Tyler? Take off the ski mask."

Finally Wilson turned to Zane. "Zane, my man, you, me, and Ross are going in the front. We've already established an open window on the first floor." Wilson tossed each of them a walkie-talkie. "Channel 5, okay? Don't use them unless it's an emergency."

"And I'll take the side entrance," said Tammy.

"What? No. No side entrance. What are you even doing here? You can wait here with Kyle."

Kyle looked royally pissed off about being transferred from infiltration team to look out.

"I bet I can get in before any of your guys," Tammy said to Wilson.

"You're going to ruin this whole thing!" Wilson cried.

"Then how about Zane comes with me?" Tammy suggested. "You and Ross go in the window, Zane and I go in the side. You don't need two big guys to protect you, do you?"

Wilson's face looked like a storm cloud.

"This is fucking stupid!" Kyle yelled. "Why can't Connor be look out?"

"I'm on surveillance," Connor said. "So basically I already am on look out."

"Why do we need five guys sitting around a bunch of cameras?" Ricky asked.

"Focus, people!" Wilson paced for a moment, then barked, "Connor, you and Kyle hide in the bushes at the end of the driveway. It is imperative that you radio me if anyone, and I mean, ANYONE, turns down the driveway. Got it?"

"Fine," said Kyle sullenly.

And that was how Zane found himself crossing the broad expanse of lawn to Levi Marsh's mansion with Tamiko muttering, "I cannot believe I am doing this."

He followed Tammy's small dark shape across the lawn, praying that there weren't any motion-triggered spotlights on the house, or an alarm. All the windows were dark, and he spotted the neon yellow of caution tape across the front of the house.

Tamiko led him in a zig zag pattern, often stopping him if he seemed to get too out of line with her movements. "We don't want to set off the sensors," she said when they were finally at the side entrance. Zane felt his knees turn to jelly.

"I knew this was a terrible, terrible idea," he said. "We're going to get arrested, and I'll never get a scholarship or go to college and I'll end up working at McDonald's for the rest of my life. Oh yeah, that's after I get butt-raped in prison."

"Don't be such a baby." Tamiko pulled two little tools from her pocket. She inserted one narrow metal rod into the keyhole and then jabbed the other in and wiggled it around. "You're so squeaky clean, all you'd get is community service."

Zane swallowed hard. The door popped open and he nearly screamed.

Tamiko spoke into the walkie talkie she had clipped to her vest. "We're in."

"Goddamn it!" Zane could hear Wilson's actual voice echoing in the night air with a slight delay as it relayed through the static on the walkie talkie.

Tammy smirked and held the door open for Zane.

He stepped inside, trying not to wince. "You can open your eyes now," his partner said. "See? No alarms. The police had to shut them off since this site is under investigation."

"How did you know that?"

"You think Wilson's the only one able to get floor plans or read the police blotter? It isn't rocket science."

The house looked strangely familiar to Zane, even though he'd been there only briefly and hadn't even entered the kitchen, which was where they stood now. The kitchen was still outfitted with a silver keg, and the counters were covered in overturned red plastic cups and half-empty bottles of alcohol. A sour smell pervaded the large, modern space. When Zane looked down, he noticed brown, dried-up puddles and dark smears on the floor.

"This way," Tamiko whispered.

She walked with knees deeply bent and ready for action, and her arms out in front of her wrists crossed. In one hand she held a flashlight, in the other a small hand-axe. Zane had no idea where she'd pulled the weapon from – he hadn't seen it on her before this point. Briefly he wondered if she'd had the axe while she'd been sweet-talking his parents.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Zane whispered at Tamiko's back. "I'm pretty sure they didn't leave any zombies lying around."

"In here," was her reply.

Off the kitchen, down a little hallway, was a laundry room and pantry bigger than Zane's bedroom. This room, too, was splattered in dark smears and spatters.

"Hold this," Tammy said, giving Zane the axe. He glanced behind him, then watched as Tammy took out another flashlight from one of her many pockets. This flashlight glowed blue when she turned it on, and when she turned off the other flashlight, the smears in the room stood out in sharp relief against the white walls and tiles, while other bits of stuff glowed a florescent green.

"What is that?" Zane asked.

"That," Tammy said, "is bodily fluid. Urine, possibly, or saliva."

"So we're standing in a crime scene."

"Yes, basically."

Wilson's voice crackled over the walkie talkie. "We're in."

"Finally," Tamiko muttered. She pressed the button and said, "We're in the pantry."

"We'll head upstairs."

Tamiko shook her head. "Idiot. The police report clearly stated that they found all five bodies on the first floor."

"Do they post police reports like that online?" Zane asked. Tamiko shrugged. "Okay, so one body was found in here? Where were the others found?"

"One in the pantry, three in the living room. One on the stairs. Let's head to the living room, since apparently Wilson and Ross aren't going to be checking it out." Tamiko returned her UV light to her pocket and together they crept toward the foyer and living room.

As they crossed the foyer, loud footsteps thumped overhead.

Tamiko glared at the ceiling. "Apparently stealth isn't their thing, either." She shook her head. "Useless."

They had reached the entrance to the living room, which was more of a grand ball room. Zane had vaguely remembered the crystal chandelier in the foyer but not the three chandeliers hanging from the living room's vaulted ceiling, nor the wall of windows that looked over the lawn. Tamiko held up a fist. Zane was familiar enough with war movies that he instinctively stopped and waited for her go-ahead.

Listening hard, Zane heard only eerie silence from the room they were about to enter. Could there be a zombie lying in wait for them? As crazy as the idea still seemed to him, here in the dark it felt real. Upstairs, he could still hear the stomping and some muffled voices.

Static crackled over the radio, making both of them jump.

"What do you want, Wilson?" Tamiko asked into her shoulder. "Aside from scaring the crap out of us?"

More crackling, then, "Abort! Abort!"

Now Tamiko and Zane could hear Wilson and Ross's thumping footsteps, as well as slamming door and short, high-pitched screams. It was still at least a minute before they saw the two, rounding the grand staircase and racing toward the exit.

"Didn't you hear us?" Wilson yelled. "Abort!"

Ross was rubbing at some kind of red substance on his arms and when Zane heard the girly screams coming from his mouth, he just started laughing. He and Tamiko watched the other infiltration crew run out the front door. Wilson was yelling for backup and something unintelligible about a biohazard.

Tamiko shut her walkie talkie off. "So, that happened."

"I guess we should go."

Tammy glanced up at the stairwell. "You think we should investigate what they found?"

Zane shrugged. "Somehow I don't think it's as bad as they're making it sound."

"You're probably right. Well, let's go find out what they were shrieking about."

Out on the lawn, all precaution had been thrown to the wind. The crew that was supposed to be stationed around the perimeter was gathered in a mob around Wilson and Ross. The captain of the football team was now lying on the ground, writhing around.

"We made contact!" Wilson was yelling. "There is definitely a zombie up there. It bit Ross!"

"We need to amputate," said Dylan or Tyler. "Quick, before the infection sets in!"

Zane ran when he heard these words. "Guys, no! We need to get him to a hospital!"

"What, so he can disappear into quarantine?" Wilson said. "Give me that axe."

Zane put the axe behind his back.

"Zane! He was bit! We need to stop the infection!" Wilson flew at Zane.

Fortunately, Zane was easily able to hold off the shorter boy with one hand, while still trying to convince the mob of football players not to cut off their leader's arm.

"The hospital is the best place for this. Do you want to be responsible for cutting off someone's arm? To do a safe amputation, you need sterilized tools—"

"Ricky, go get some boiling water!" Wilson shouted.

"...something to cauterize the stump, painkillers..."

"Mason, get out your blowtorch! Kyle, go in the house and raid the medicine cabinet!"

"Kyle?" Tamiko said. "Wasn't he our lookout?"

"If you just hack off his arm he'll bleed out!"

"Don't cut off my arm," Ross pleaded between high-pitched wheezes.

"I won't let them, Ross. I swear. Come on, get him up. Help him down to the car." As Wilson still danced around him, Zane snapped, "Will, stop it. Get a hold of yourself."

Wilson stopped and finally saw that he'd lost the mob. His shoulders slumped. "I guess you're right."

Tamiko took back her axe and holstered it under her vest. "Take a look at that bite," she said as they followed everyone back down the driveway. "The teeth set is far too small to be human, and too elongated. I think he got bit by a dog."

"A dog?"

Ross overhead this comment. "A zombie dog!" he corrected.

Ricky nearly dropped him. "A zombie dog," he repeated. "For real? We were about to amputate your arm because of a dog bite?"

"That was no ordinary dog!" Ross snapped.

"Little bastard was possessed by a demon!" Wilson added.

"Shit, man," Ricky said. "You can walk on your own."

"Guys!" Ross had tears in his eyes, visible in the dancing flashlight beams. "I wouldn't be freaking out if it was just some normal dog!"

"Okay," Mason said, a bit of laugh in his voice. "Come on, get in my truck. I'll take you to the hospital."

"I'm coming too!" Wilson called.

These three left, and everyone else stood around talking for a few minutes. "Freaking dog," Zane heard Dylan or Tyler say.

"So stupid," Kyle was saying to Connor.

Zane turned to Tamiko. "So, that was a bust."

"Well, Wilson was in charge. He's like an overexcited Chihuahua sometimes. Hey, you want to go get something to eat?"