me.
“Thank you, June,” Linus says, in his impeccable accent, like we’re sitting in a garden and I’ve just handed him a cup of tea.
“You’re welcome, Linus,” I reply. I don’t think I was mimicking his accent. Was I?
19
Linus has a little trouble getting over the barricade; he’s either winded or injured. Maybe both.
“Excellent work, lads,” Janet tells him and Simon, giving them both a hug after they join us.
“Thank you. Both of you,” I say.
Linus nods and looks around. We’re all huddled at the top of the escalators on the third-floor landing.
I’ve discarded the mop on the landing. It was too hard to maneuver. Instead I’ve pulled the shorter mic arm back out, just in case. The makeshift barricade blocks much of our sight line into the large third-floor balcony lobby area to the right. So far, everything’s clear, but we keep our voices low, just in case.
Annie is working her phone next to the exterior windows. She barely even looks at Linus.
“Are you okay?” I ask him.
“I took quite a fall,” he says. His hand goes to the back of his head. “Cracked my head.”
His hand comes away bloody.
“Oh,” he says conversationally. Like would you look at that?
“How about we take stock of the area, but you hang in the back. When we know it’s clear, you can get cleaned up and rest properly,” Janet says, but she looks at me for permission. For some weird reason.
“Good idea,” I agree. “Catch your breath first, though.”
Linus nods gratefully and leans over, his hands on his knees.
Imani’s voice next to me is low, pitched only for me to hear.
“Did you see that zombie fall on him?”
“Linus? Yeah,” I whisper back.
“Do you think, I mean, how do people get infected, anyway?” Imani pushes her hair back behind her ear. “On the show, it’s bites, right?”
“Yeah, bites only. On the show.”
“Did he look like he was limping to you?” Imani’s eyes look pained, like she’s hoping against hope.
But fears the worst.
“He fell on the escalator. Of course he’s limping.” But I glance over at Linus again, standing next to Janet.
And is a bite the only way to get infected? What if it’s just particulate, like a cough, or sweat getting into a cut?
Or in your mouth?
“I don’t want everyone to turn on him, or each other,” Imani whispers. “But we need to find out if he’s been bitten, don’t we?”
“Yes,” I agree. “I’ll take him aside and ask in a minute.” The pleading enters my whisper. “We can give him a moment, right? After all, he covered our escape. And we have to make sure there aren’t any zombies up here.”
My hand sweeps out, encompassing the third-floor lobby beyond us.
Imani glances back at Linus, smiling ruefully at something Rosa has said.
Imani nods.
“Okay, but keep your eye on him,” Imani instructs me. Then she steps over to the windows where Annie and Mia are already trying their phones.
“Any luck?” I ask them, even though Annie’s scowling, and jabbing her fingers on her phone like she would stab it if she could.
“No signal,” Annie says. “Anyone else want to try?”
Imani holds her phone up, first at one corner of the window, then another, before shaking her head.
“There must be a dampener,” she says. “Or maybe it’s just the steel or the atmosphere today.”
“Wait, why would there be a dampener?” Mia asks. “Aren’t those illegal?”
“Not if you’re military, or police,” Imani replies. “SWAT and special response teams use them.”
“That’s good!” The corners of Rosa’s eyes crinkle with her relieved smile. “That means help is on the way!”
“Or it could mean it’s happening everywhere.” Annie hugs the defibrillator case tighter. “What if the zombies are outside, too?”
“No,” Janet says, with absolute conviction. “No way. Otherwise we wouldn’t be locked in. If it’s a dampener, it means they’re