He didn't know where he was running. The world had suddenly turned into a weird and unfamiliar place. The sky to the north was bright with fire, and helicopters zoomed overhead, splashing spotlights in random areas and just as quickly plunging that same area into darkness. A fire horn was blaring a long continuous wail that chilled Zane's blood and made him run faster.

Yet his street was quiet. Doors shut, shades drawn. Here he heard only his own shoe soles slapping the ground.

He glanced back once. Light spilled from the front door of his house and cut into the night. He didn't see Harmony. He faced forward and ran.

He didn't know where else to go. The center of town was at least two miles away. That would be where his parents were having dinner, and they were in the thick of this... whatever this was.

He found himself running to the school.

His parents had said they were being evacuated. Schools were always used as evacuation centers in emergencies, weren't they? Schools and churches, but Zane hadn't been to any churches in Palos Verdes. Hospitals, schools, and churches. The hospital seemed to be on fire, so Zane headed toward the school.

The mile to school flew by, and it wasn't until a car nearly ran him over that he realized how there were no cars on the streets at all. He hadn't even been looking when he crossed the streets. They were black and barren, the street lights all flashing yellow: warning! warning! warning!

But when Zane turned to cross Hawthorne Boulevard, a car flew up out of nowhere, trapping him in the headlights. He dove out of the way and rolled off the street into some bushes. Luckily, a boulder stopped his descent into a hill full of thorny bushes.

"Damn," he moaned.

He had managed to push himself up and claw his way back to the sidewalk when he heard footsteps.

Immediately he dropped to his stomach and stopped breathing.

"Zane? Is that you?"

Zane peered up.

"Wilson!" he cried. "Wilson, Wilson!" He scrambled to his feet and headed up the hill. "Wilson!" He tackled the short boy. "You're alive!"

"I won't be for long if you don't let go," Wilson managed to say.

"Sorry," Zane said. He got up and hauled Wilson to his feet beside him. "Man, I heard the hospital was on fire or blew up or something. I figured you were dead!"

"Just barely. Come on, get in the car."

A shiny SUV idled a few feet up ahead. Zane ran with a slight limp behind Wilson, who was much quicker than he would have imagined. Wilson got in the passenger side beside Mason at the wheel, and Zane hopped in the back – and found himself beside Ross. Mason slammed on the gas and Zane struggled to get on his seatbelt.

"Hey man," Ross said.

His arm was wrapped up in a swath of gauze, and there was a sling around his neck. With the dark circles under his eyes, Ross looked completely miserable.

"You broke Ross out of the hospital?" Zane asked.

"Dude, you are completely out of the loop!" Wilson cried. "And why did you ignore my calls and hang up on me?"

"I couldn't hear you!" Zane said, but Wilson shushed him.

"Mason and I went to the hospital, like we planned. Our cover was visiting Ross. We had just got there when all hell broke loose – and I mean crazy shit, man. Alarms going off, Code Yellow, Code Green, Code Black... all the codes, basically. I couldn't keep up. They started calling to evacuate so we got the hell out. Just in time too, we were running to the car when half the hospital blew up. Crazy shit, debris and shrapnel everywhere. We were lucky. There were lots of old people in the way, blocking up the elevators. We all ran down the stairs and got out."

Zane cocked his head. "So, you basically just elbowed the elderly aside and saved yourselves?"

"You weren't there! It was insanity!"

Ross spoke up. "I mean, shit, there were fucking zombies, man! Who knows how many of those old people were actually zombies?"

"You didn't have to shove that pregnant lady into that gurney," said Mason.

"What?" Zane said.

"She was infected!"

"Look, I think we've established that Ross isn't great in a crisis situation," Wilson said. "The main thing is, now we're headed to Ricky's house per our emergency plan."

"Ricky's house?" Zane asked. "We should be heading to the school. That's the evacuation center."

Wilson was outraged. "Ricky has the most weapons. Come on, we drilled this on Monday. Ricky has the most weapons, we go there when shit hits the fan. Didn't you hear me on the phone? Goddamn, you were running on foot to the school? Are you stupid?"

"Schools are commonly used as evacuation centers," Zane said.

"They've been replayed the same message for the past hour," Wilson said. " 'Lock your doors and stay inside'... Let me just put it on."

He jabbed at the power button and an irritatingly calm female voice droned, "...overnor has declared a state of emergency in the city of Palos Verdes and the surrounding area. Citizens should stay home, lock all doors and windows, and shut curtains. Please remain in your homes if possible until further notice. Please do not attempt to flee the area. Citizens currently in public areas near County Harbor Medical Hospital are being evacuated by bus to nearby centers. These centers include Palos Verdes High School, Palos Verdes City Hall, and the United Methodist Church. Please proceed in an organized fashion to one of these centers. Please do not assault or harm the personnel directing the evacuation. Military personnel have been authorized to use deadly force. Please do not attempt to flee the area. Unauthorized vehicles and persons will be stopped and taken to evacuation areas –"

Mason swung a sharp left hand turn and Ross tumbled into Zane's lap. Wilson strained against gravity to lift his finger to shut off the radio.

"Wilson, they said they'll stop unauthorized vehicles. We can't be driving around! We need to get to the school!"

"No worries, we're here already."

Mason swerved into the driveway of a typical stucco house with decorative palms. He slammed on the brakes and the seatbelt dug across Zane's chest, while Ross rolled onto the floor. "Goddamn it!" his muffled voice said.

The two in the front pulled out guns from their camouflage jackets and looked out the side windows. "Clear," Wilson said.

"Clear," Mason affirmed.

Wilson pulled out a walkie talkie. "Ricky, requesting permission to enter."

Static. "We have a visual. Move out." Static.

"You ready?" Wilson called over his shoulder.

Zane struggled to get his seatbelt off while using his feet to kick Ross upright.

"Move, move!" Wilson called.

He and Mason jumped out of the SUV and opened the rear passenger doors, then jumped into a point position, each scanning the quiet street and lawn.

"Clear!" Wilson said.

"Clear!" Mason affirmed.

Suddenly Wilson had grabbed Zane's arm and was dragging him to the front door. Behind them, Mason did the same. They all ran to the front door. As they ran up the front steps, the door opened and they ducked inside. Ricky slammed the door shut behind them. Zane, having been running for a wee bit longer than the others, leaned against the wall to catch his breath. In the darkened living room, the rest of the football team and a couple of the cheerleaders looked on anxiously.

"Ross, man! Shit, guys, what if he's infected?" Ricky said.

Ross was huddled over his injured arm. "I'm fine, the doctors said it was a dog bite. That's it."

"And there's no possibility that the dog was infected?" Ricky shouted. "Guys, this is it! The zombie apocalypse! We cannot be taking risks like this!"

"Maybe if you'd amputated his arm, we wouldn't be in this situation!" Wilson yelled right back at him.

"Yeah, because he'd be DEAD!"

Zane stepped in. "Shut up!"

The boys quieted – they had never heard level-headed Zane raise his voice.

"Look, we need to stay calm. Are all the doors locked?"

"The premises is secure," said Dylan or Tyler.

"Curtains drawn?"

"Sir, yes, sir," said Dylan or Tyler.

"Okay." Zane stopped to think. "Whatever is out there, if it's zombies, the government people must think they're attracted to light or movement. So as long as we're in here, and they can't see inside, we'll be safe."

"Are there really zombies out there?" asked one of the girls. Zane recognized her as Kendra McDonald, the brunette Wilson had wanted to set him up with.

Zane hadn't told anyone about Harmony yet. He glanced at Wilson, who took this as a sign that he needed to tell everyone about what went down at the hospital.

The group moved into the living room, and people sat on the floor and on the available couches and chairs, while Wilson stood near the television on top of an ottoman.

"This is what we know. There is a disease that they mistook for a skin infection. Obviously, the 'skin lesions' were actually patches of skin rotting off the corpses – Zombies, if you will. A government agency took fifteen infected people to the hospital and placed them under quarantine. No local doctors or nurses, or family of the victims, were allowed into the area. Two days ago, a military guard arrived and fully prevented any entrance by civilians. Tonight, while we were at the hospital visiting Ross, who had not been placed under quarantine, they first called a Code Yellow. That's a missing persons alert, for you laypeople. Then they called Code Green, which is a combative persons alert. That means assault, people. First people were missing, then they were attacking. Then they announced a number of other codes, Code Red, Code Blue, Code Black – I don't even know what Code Black is, but it's probably really bad – and then they announced a Code White and the evacuation started. I think it's safe to say that if we look at these codes, we can ascertain that this was in fact a zombie attack. We heard gunshots and something definitely blew up. Panic ensues. Suddenly it's a city-wide evacuation? 'Do not attempt to flee the area'?"

Wilson opened his arms wide. "What we have, people, is a full scale zombie infection."

Kendra and Nikki each grabbed the nearest football player and wailed.

"How did all of you guys get here so fast, anyway?" Zane asked.

"I contacted Ricky when the first alarms began at the hospital," Wilson said. "Then Ricky initiated the phone tree. Which, I have to mention, guys: there are quite a few people here who are NOT on the phone tree."

"Dude, I'm not going to leave these lovely ladies to be devoured by zombies!" Ricky said, indicating Kendra, Nikki, and Anna.

Wilson crossed his arms, then said, "You're right, man. If everything goes bad, we're going to need some females to help repopulate the earth. Good thinking."

"Thank you." Ricky looked abundantly pleased with himself.

Zane asked, "Was I part of the phone tree? I don't remember anything about a phone tree."

"It was on the handout I passed out at the meeting Friday morning, which apparently you missed." Wilson looked angry. "Zane, you're cool-headed in an emergency, but you are not the most reliable guy in the world."

"Look, I was trying to –" Zane stopped himself before saying anything more about Harmony. Of course Wilson might remember that Zane had plans, but he didn't need to just blurt it out. It was too late, however.

"Make out with Harmony? Yeah, how did that go?" Wilson said.

"Seriously?" Several people near Zane recoiled.

"She's not that bad!" Zane found himself saying, even as a visual of Harmony ripping out his cat's small intestines flashed through his mind. "Besides, I couldn't get anywhere with her with Wilson calling me every two minutes!"

"Man, I would have thought you'd be a better wingman than that," Ross said in disdain.

"Just because I'm short and dorky doesn't mean I'm a good wingman!" Wilson yelled. "I'm the leading man in the rom-com of my own life!"

With Wilson defending his ability to lure in a girl and half the guys still hung up on Ross's zombie bite, the noise level in the living room rose until it sounded like the cafeteria during lunch period. Zane was surprised to even be able to hear the knocking on the door.

"Guys. Guys!" he yelled. When the voices lowered, he said, "Did you hear that?"

Everyone stopped. There was another thump on the door.

"Shit. Don't answer it. Shut off the lights!" Ricky whispered.

Outside, a helicopter's blades shattered the silence and a bright light came from beyond the curtains, making everyone's frightened faces look like Halloween masks. The knocking on the door came again, the same slow thumping as before.

Then came a spattering of gunfire – the girls and Ross gave muffled screams - and there was another thump. This thump wasn't someone knocking on the door. It was a heavy, pulpy sound.

The helicopter zoomed away, leaving them in darkness.

"What just happened?" Kendra asked.

"Shh!" said Anna, and everyone was silent for a full minute, listening to every little sound: the helicopters flying over other neighborhoods, a car alarm going off that split the night.

Nothing more from beyond the front door.

"Should we check it out?" Zane whispered.

"Hells no!" Ricky said. "What, they downed a zombie right on the front porch and you want to go out and poke it with a stick?"

"We should at least see if it is a zombie," Zane suggested. "Do you have a peephole or something?"

Mason crawled on his stomach to the front door, then slithered to his feet and looked out the peephole for a time. He dropped to his stomach again and army-crawled back to the living room.

"Nothing to report, sir," he said. "No sign of movement out on the porch or street. There's no visibility of the area immediately below the peephole. If a body dropped there, it's totally hidden."

"We could open the door for just a second," Zane said.

"WORST IDEA EVER," Wilson said. "Don't you understand how people get killed in horror movies?"

"Just to see..." But Zane knew the argument was lost.

"Of course it's a zombie!" Wilson shouted. "How can you have any doubt left in your mind?"

"Sorry," Zane said. He glanced up at the stairs. "Um, where's your bathroom?"

"There's one down the hall, and one upstairs," Ricky said.

"No!" Wilson said. "None of this, 'I'll be right back' and 'Let's split up.' You go in pairs."

"I'm not watching some other dude pee," said Ricky.

"Ditto," said Zane. He went down the hall while Wilson pitched a fit about following orders and not breaking rank.

When he shut the bathroom door behind him, Zane exhaled a long breath and rested with his back against the wood. His head felt so mixed up and confused and overwhelmed and crazy with everything that had happened that night that this one moment of space was exactly what he needed. The pristine white walls and tiles on the floor and the soft peach color of the shag rugs and towels, the normalcy of a bathroom, made all else feel supremely unreal. "Fucking zombies," he whispered, shaking his head. He moved to the toilet and did his business.

Even though he'd seen it with his own two eyes, he was already beginning to doubt that he'd seen Harmony eating a cat. It was impossible, really. How could she possibly be a zombie? She was talking to him. Zombies didn't talk. They moaned and shuffled around.

Everyone was so quick to say that word. Zombie. Maybe what they were experiencing wasn't like all the video games. An infection, that was what the news reporters had said last week. These people weren't the walking dead. They were still alive. They were cannibals.

The guys in the other room had guns. They were ready to shoot anyone looking like a zombie. But if this wasn't like that, if it was really an infection and could be cured, then killing a "zombie" was murder.

Zane put a shaky hand out to steady himself on the cold marble sink. "It's murder." Even the government, the military, if they had shot and killed a zombie on the doorstep, that was murder.

And Harmony would still need his help.

Zane was startled out of his introspective moment by a sudden pounding on the bathroom door. "Zane? Hey, man, you okay in there?"

He opened the door, and Wilson barged in.

"Sorry, man. Hope you weren't going number two. Those guys... you know how they have all those memes on the internet about who's your zombie apocalypse team? I kinda figured the football team would be a good team to be on in this situation, but now... It'd be nice if they had two brain cells to rub together, you know? And man, those chicks are annoying."

"Kinda makes you wish Tammy was here," Zane said.

Wilson sighed. "I hate to say it, but yes."

"So what's going on out there?"

"They're fighting over rationing food already. Like, seriously? That's your big concern? Of course, it wasn't exactly the smartest plan to have twenty-five teenage guys trapped in a house together. There is no pantry large enough for that, my friend."

Wilson flipped the toilet seat down and sat on it. Zane hoisted himself up onto the counter next to the sink. "I guess when I pictured the zombie apocalypse, I pictured hacking off walker heads and using flame throwers. Not sitting around in a house full of people who have tormented me my entire life."

"I'm sure that decapitating and flame throwing will come along. It's still early in the game."

"I guess you're right."

"My problem is that I still barely believe this is happening. I feel like I need proof."

"True that. I haven't even really seen a zombie yet. And I was there, at ground zero. All I've seen are people panicking."

Zane considered this and realized that, unlike Wilson, he had seen proof. He had seen Harmony eating his cat, and if that night last week hadn't been a total hallucination, he'd seen her eating Coach Thompson. He had seen a zombie. He should believe in what was going on.

But something didn't add up.

"Do you think this is, like, a disease?" he asked. "I mean, all the zombie movies and stuff have different theories. People start rising up when they die, right? But what about if they get this virus, and they aren't actually dead?"

"You mean like in '28 Days Later'? The rage virus?"

"I never saw that movie."

Wilson shook his head. "Do you live in a cave? Okay, so basically these people get infected with what they call the rage virus. People who get infected go crazy and try to kill you and eat you. If there aren't any non-infected people around, they just stand around like regular zombies, but when they smell you, they go after you. Get it? This was pretty much the first zombie movie with fast zombies."

"Fast zombies," Zane said.

"Yeah. Most of your traditional zombies are slow. You know, 'Night of the Living Dead.' They moan, and can't move too fast because they're dead and rotting. They're pretty easy to avoid, until you get the horde scenario, when they overwhelm you with sheer number."

"Okay."

"Fast zombies, on the other hand, man, those are scary. They attack you and chase you and you can't outrun them because they're freaking crazy."

Zane felt goose bumps rise up along his arms.

"So you're thinking these might be fast zombies?"

"I don't know. I think people would have freaked out if the zombies were actually dead people who came back to life. I think it's harder for people to decide if they're just sick. I mean, they said five people died at that party, and fifteen were infected. They didn't say twenty people died and fifteen came back to life."

"That's true. Although those fifteen could have died and come back to life, and that would account for the so-called skin lesions they were talking about on the news."

"I guess we'll never know."

"Unless..." Wilson drew out his phone and dialed a number. "Hey, Iris? Yeah, we're all over at Ricky's. Hunkering down to wait it out. Yeah, no. No drugs. Not that I know of anyway. You're better off staying home.... Yeah, so I'm calling because your brother was at that party last week, right?... Yeah. Uh-huh... Really. And he's fine? Okay... But did he... Oh. Oh. Oh, God. Iris, you should probably—Iris? Hey, you gotta get out of there! Iris? Iris!"

Wilson lowered the phone from his ear and stared at the screen, which now read "Call ended."

Zane looked at him. "So, I guess her brother..."

"Yeah."