She spun away from the bed and its memories and retreated to the front door. After a quick glance around to check that all the lights were off, she opened the door and went outside. The night was clear and held the promise of being cold. A chill ran up her spine as she unlocked the car door. It had nothing to do with the wind's icy fingers teasing the back of her neck. Someone was watching her.
She ignored the sensation and got into the car. There was little else she could do. It wasn't Michael or Jasper, so more than likely it was one of the zombies. And she sure as hell wasn't going to confront one of them.
But if only one zombie was watching her, what were the other two up to? Foreboding pulsed, a warning of trouble ahead. She grimaced and drove out of the driveway. It would be a nice change if the warnings were a little more specific.
The first thing she saw as she walked into the office was the madly flashing light on the answering machine. Throwing her keys on her desk, she grabbed a pen and paper and sat to answer some calls. It was nearing midnight when she stopped. She rubbed at the crick in her neck and closed her eyes in sudden weariness. I need a drink , she thought, something strong . But Jake kept the whiskey under the cupboard near his desk, and she just couldn't be bothered with getting up. It was probably just as well. The mood she was in, she'd probably get drunk and end up feeling sorry for herself. She leaned back in the chair and rested her feet on top of the desk. For some reason, she felt safe in the office. All the doors and windows were locked and barred, so if anyone tried getting in she'd hear them. A few hours’ sleep would not go astray. She closed her eyes and drifted. Images formed in her mind. Images that were indistinct and blurred, but full of panic. Figures lurched and spun in a gentle and terrifying dance. Death laughed, white teeth flashing across the darkness. She jerked upright, her feet crashing to the floor. Now she knew what the other two zombies were up to. Jake was in danger.
She reached for the link, then stopped. It wasn't fair to call Michael every time she or Jake was in trouble. He was here to find Jasper, and she shouldn't keep distracting him from that. It left her with only one other option. Picking up the phone, she quickly dialed MacEwan's number. He answered on the second ring.
"It's Nikki James. I need help,” she said.
"To do what?” His voice was terse, annoyed.
She wondered if she'd woken him. “It's one of those situations that can't rationally be explained." Silence met her reply. She waited, her knuckles white with the intensity of her grip on the receiver.
"Tell me what's going on,” he said, after a long moment.
She sighed in relief. At least he hadn't dismissed her outright, as many others would have. “The man responsible for the recent spate of murders is going after Jake. Only he's sending his people to do it."
"I see no problem. Jake's still in the hospital?"
"He is, but it's not that simple.” She hesitated, then softly cleared her throat. “The people being sent are
... well, they're zombies."
MacEwan made no sound. Even the soft rasp of his breathing had disappeared.
"They're two of the four women who went missing in Highgate Park." MacEwan swore softly. It was hard to tell whether he believed her or not, and all she could do was wait. Jake was in danger and needed help. If MacEwan wouldn't assist her then she'd have no choice but to turn to Michael. She couldn't cope with two zombies on her own, and she wasn't going to let Jake die now.