head. “Well, not here, anyway. Sara told me to tell you that whatever y’all are planning to do to attack Miko, y’all best get to doing it pretty soon. The only thing is, I can’t come with y’all, I gotta stay here. Captain’s orders.” Her expression darkened. “And Sara said I’d just get myself killed, anyhow.”
Charlie reached into her sling and pulled out two MREs sealed in tan plastic. She tossed them onto the bed. “That’s y’all’s food for today; they shut down the cafeteria and gave guns to all the cooks. I got you a vegetarian one, and him a meat one.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Did Sara happen to say where I’m supposed to find Miko?”
“Oh. Yeah. She says the cats say that Miko’s base is in the Saguaro Hotel downtown. It’s hard to miss; it’s the tallest building in the whole city.”
She shuffled her feet awkwardly. “Hey, I’ve got to go. I feel like I should give you a hug or something. But that might be kinda weird with you in that chair.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“So, um … bye? I hope I see you around later?”
“Me, too,” I replied. “Fight good. Stay safe.”
Charlie gave me a little wave, then hurried away toward the elevators. Pal freed me from the chair, and I stumbled into the bathroom to pee and splash some cold water on my face.
“I’m so not ready for this,” I croaked to Pal as I rested my forehead against the cool edge of the sink. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a whole fleet of Greyhounds. And then set on fire. God knows what other crap I got infected with yesterday.”
Pal picked up his MRE. “Well, eat some food and take your medicine; perhaps that will help you feel a bit better?”
“I guess it can’t hurt.” I found my Leatherman tool and opened up the veggie MRE, spreading the contents on the cot. The thought of eating cold cheese tortellini for breakfast made my stomach churn, but the package also had chunky peanut butter and crackers and, even better, a chocolate Soldier Fuel bar. I ate the energy bar with a bottle of water and took my antibiotics and ibuprofen. Then waited to see if the food and medicine would stay down.
To my joy, they did.
“I took the liberty of charm-cleaning and drying your clothing after you fell asleep,” Pal told me as he licked clean the inside of his packet of pot roast. “The hose-down left the leather quite damp, and your T-shirt seemed … unsanitary.”
“Thanks, Pal.” I stretched, trying to unwind my knotted back muscles. “Well, let me get dressed, and let’s do this thing.”
I couldn’t bear the thought of another day in the hot riding helmet, so I had Pal clean it and then I traded it to a girl down the hall for her straw cowboy hat. She seemed happy to have something solid to wear into the impending battle. Evidently, combat and tactical helmets were in relatively short supply on campus.
Once we were airborne, our destination was dead easy to find; it was the tallest structure in the city by at least twenty floors. Furthermore, the pale brick tower had the letters SAGUARO HOTEL spelled out in tall steel letters on top of its red, Mission-style hipped tile roof. I was pretty sure anyone within fifteen miles could spot the building.
Once we got closer, I could see a crowd milling at the base of the hotel.
“Jesus, she didn’t even send all the puppets she’s got to campus,” I marveled to Pal. Miko had certainly made serious headway on her two hundred thousand souls during her reign in Cuchillo.
I spotted an alleyway a block from the hotel that was clear of puppets. “Land us over there, behind that diner.”
Pal descended quickly but landed gently beside a green Dumpster. “How are we going to get through that crowd?”
“My shotgun and your charm,” I replied. “But maybe we won’t have to use either. Miko did seem like she wanted a face-to-face with me.”
Pal trotted out of the alleyway into the street in front of the hotel, expecting a fight. But the festering mob of meat puppets simply shambled aside as I rode Pal toward the stark white columns and broad marble steps of the hotel. There had to be a thousand bodies in the stinking brown sea parting before us. My skull was pounding again, the heat and hard West Texas sun nearly unbearable. I tipped my straw cowboy hat forward in a futile attempt