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“Friendly?” I asked, though he’d already claimed to be.
“No one ever accused me of bein’ friendly, no. But I ain’t gonna shoot you if that’s what you’re asking.”
I could have asked for ID, but if he was a bad guy and had overthrown a police station, he’d have plenty of access to getting a badge somewhere. “Good enough.” Holstering my weapon, I waved to Desmond and Genie, and they entered behind me.
“Glad t’see some people are getting through those streets okay. Most of my staff are out there tryin’ to help, but damn, man. I don’t know if we can do much good. Where’d you come from?”
“Drove in through the Tunnel a couple hours ago,” I explained. “Sort of a shock.”
“No shit. You said yer lookin’ for Detective Castilla?”
“Castilla or Nowakowski.”
O’Brian scratched his mustache, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. “Guess I’m gonna owe the Wonder Twins an apology after this.”
“What do you mean?”
“The two of them and all their weird cases. Like they’re on the X-Files or some shit like that.” He shook his head, and I struggled to maintain a straight face. Tyler, at least, was doing exactly that by working the FBI’s paranormal desk. “I thought they were loopy, ya know? Guess they’ll have the last laugh. Zombies and all.”
He said zombies like a girl on a diet might say carbs. Like it was a dirty word but not something made up.
“Do you know where they are?”
He nodded. “Castilla’s downstairs makin’ sure the manual locks on the cells are all working okay and the perps aren’t stirrin’ up too much trouble. She’ll be up soon.”
“And Tyler?”
“He’s out doin’ a sweep. Checking the area for zoms. He shouldn’t be gone more than an hour. I hope.”
“They’re not zombies,” Genie sputtered.
“What’s that?” O’Brian’s attention shifted to my sister.
Instinctively I wanted to block her, to protect her, though I didn’t know what from. In here we were about as safe as we were going to get.
“I said, they’re not zombies.”
“No? Then what are they? ’Cause they sure do look like the walking dead to me.”
I sighed. I hadn’t been planning to explain the difference to the general public because I didn’t think arguing about the semantics of walking dead versus zombies would do much good. But O’Brian had asked, so we might as well be upfront with him.
“I don’t mind explaining, but can we wait for Cedes to get back? I’d like to limit the number of times we have to make the same speech, you know?”
O’Brian nodded and set his service pistol on the desk, then sat himself next to it. He wiped his brow with the back of his arm and let out a groan. “I’ve been on the force thirty-two years. I worked the streets durin’ the 2003 blackout, when people were sleepin’ outside and it looked like we might lose control of the whole damned place. But I tell you, I never seen a thing like what’s going on out there tonight. Not in my damn life.”
“I don’t think any of us have,” Desmond offered.
“I’ve never feared for this city the way I do right now. More than the city. I’m…I’m scared. Is this the end?”
“End of days?” I asked. “No, I don’t think so.”
“You sound awful sure.”
“If anyone
can be sure of the apocalypse, it’s Secret.” Mercedes had entered the room through a back flight of stairs and was standing in the dark recesses, barely visible. She hung back for a minute, then moved across the room, wrapping me up in a tight hug. Since Cedes wasn’t one for big emotional displays, I was taken aback by her sudden expression of warmth. It took me a second to realize I ought to hug her back.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” I said.
