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Ah, so they all drank it. Smart.
Rowan runs a hand through the bleached side of her hair. “Let’s go.”
She and Fabian cross the street, with zombies and the rest of us close behind.
We enter the train station again, and thanks to Rowan, the purplish corpses lying around join our herd of zombies.
Due to sheer numbers, our procession takes a while to navigate the maze of corridors into the hub, where I watch Rowan do something strange: She grabs the nearest zombie by the hand, that zombie grabs the hand of another, and so on. They daisy-chain like that until everyone is holding hands, like a bunch of macabre kindergarteners.
“It’s the only way I can get them through the gate,” Rowan explains. “This way, they register as my possessions.”
I dart a guilty glance at Dylan.
Rowan bends over and places Frank, her resurrected opossum-like pet, in a sack hanging crosswise over her body. “Dylan is still Cognizant. I think she’ll be able to get through without me. Hopefully.”
Fabian extends his hand to Dylan. “How about we don’t take any chances.”
If I were Dylan, I’d make sure to point out that I’m not Fabian’s possession, but she just meekly grabs his hand while avoiding the werewolf’s eyes.
Puck. I really hope this odd behavior is temporary.
Valerian looks at Rowan. “Where’s the body of your betrothed?”
“We questioned him while you were out,” she says. “Keyser didn’t know much. The ancient vampire had glamoured him to thwart anyone who mentions the word ‘Icelus.’ That was also when he’d gotten infected and was told about the nightmare that made him into an Overtaken.”
“What about all the vampires we killed on Necronia?” Valerian asks. “Could you bring them back for questioning?”
“I tried,” Rowan says. “I guess it doesn’t work with dead vampires—which kind of makes sense, seeing how it’s their second death and all."
Valerian curses under his breath. “We desperately need intelligence on our enemy.”
I put a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe Maxwell will have something for us when we get to Gomorrah.” I look at Dylan. “Did he tell you anything on that topic in your dreams?”
Dylan doesn’t respond.
“Dylan,” Fabian says soothingly. “Did you sleep?”
She shakes her head.
Rowan pats the sack where she’s stashed her pet. “Frank doesn’t sleep either.”
Neither do vampires—another type of the undead—but it wouldn’t be courteous to mention that.
“Let’s go,” Rowan says, and before anyone can object, she leads her zombie train into the pink plasma gate.
We step out on a hub located in a lush forest meadow where we’d camped on the way to Necronia.
“This time, let everyone else go first,” Valerian says to Rowan as we approach the next gate. “That way, if there’s an attack, we can cover your arrival.”
With a barely perceptible eye roll, Rowan gestures for everyone to go ahead, like a doorman.
Ariel, Fabian, and Dylan take the lead, Itzel and Felix step in next, and Valerian goes right before me.
When I come out on the other side, it’s to the sound of battle.
Chapter Two
Frantically, I take in the situation.
There are about a hundred enemies swarming the hub, all in various sleepwear. Their fiery eyes make it clear why they’re trying to kill us.
They’re the Overtaken.
Great. Just great. All I want is to get to Mom and try to wake her up, but pucking Phobetor isn’t going to make it easy, is he?
Whipping out my gun, I hold it so tightly my knuckles whiten.
Time to fight.
But first, I flip my gun to the nonlethal setting. The Overtaken aren’t bad people; they’re being used by one. Or more specifically, by a bad god of nightmares.
A woman in her nightie hurls a skillet at my head.
I duck, and the lead projectile whizzes by my ear.
Without taking time to aim, I shoot my attacker in the chest.
She collapses.
A burly man rushes at me, arms outstretched. I take a fighting stance, but before I can so much as block a hit, Valerian puts my attacker down with his gun.
Fabian is now in his wolf form. Swinging his massive paw, he smashes it in the face of one of the attackers, breaking the woman’s skull into pieces.
Puck. So much for sparing lives.
One of the Overtaken stops attacking and looks straight at me and Valerian. “I wanted the two of you to suffer from the virus,” he snarls. He doesn’t feel that way, of course; it’s Phobetor speaking through his mouth. “Since you’re so stubborn, I’ll have to dispatch you like this, with violence.”
“You can try,” Valerian grits out and shoots the speaker.
The guy drops.
“Resistance is futile,” Phobetor says through the mouth of a large man and has him lunge at Itzel.
Puck.
I aim at him but miss.
Backing away, Itzel launches a lightning ball at her attacker. He flies back and lands on his back.
Yes! We might just get out of this yet.
“Did the god of nightmares just quote the Borg?” Felix asks, panting. “Does that mean he’s seen Star Trek?”
