Brad Goldberg

"Mander! Come take'atake a look what I found."

The voice coming from downstairs barely registered at first. He wasn't talking to me anyway. I don't have to deal with it. I can sleep.

"Get in here, you bitch."

The realization that the voice was probably a comrade of the monstrosity I just killed snaps me awake. Chloe is frightened toto consciousness too. I think she's about to scream. I put my finger toon my lips. She nods.

"Where the fuck are you? You didn't get drunk without me, d'ja?"

I'm pretty sure I saw the duffel with all my weapons in the bedroom. I motion for Chloe to stay put. I rushrushed into the room. The duffel is by the bed. Ape Man is where I left him. His blood on the carpet is starting to crust over.

"You up there? What's that blood on the kitchen floor?"

Shit. He knows something's not right. Monster boy's double-barreled shotgun is on the bed. I grab that and rush to the top of the stairs just as the new intruder is about to start up the steps with a woman whom he's holding captive. I don't give this a lot of thought. He's got a woman tied up and is pushing her in front of him. It doesn't take the vice squad to know what he's planning for her. I would kill him without hesitation except I have a shotgun, which would hit the woman too.

They both see me at the same time. The woman drops to the ground. How does she know I'm not with her captor? He's raising his handgun. I fire both barrels. He topples backwards. The woman, even with her hands tied behind her, gets to her feet and sprints up the stairs. The man I shot tries to get up. He slips in his own blood. And then stays put.

The woman looks at me with recognition. "Meara? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Joan? I thought you were dead!"

It's my producer from News New York. She always called me by my last name, Meara. We were part of a small news team that stayed behind to cover the demise of humankind. I usually worked with the same team. Joan was the producer. Erin was her reporter. And Kareem was their cameraman. They'd go on remotes, and I'd take the feeds and edit the pieces for the next news segment. Joan was the embodiment of badass. She was driven, and she drove everyone she worked with to stretch their limits or go work with someone else. If it hadn't been for her, I'd have slacked my way through a job I could have done by rote. She would have none of it. The thing is, I was sure she was dead.

She sees that my arm is streaked with blood. "You're bleeding. If you're bit, you know what we have to do."

Jesus, she's back from the dead; I just saved her life; and she's already outlining a contingency plan that includes killing me.

She sees Chloe who is still sitting in the hall. She hasn't moved except to pull her knees up tight to her chest.

Joan goes over to her. "Are you all right, sweetie? Are you hurt? My name is Joan. I know this guy."

Then she does something she's never done, something I could never have imagined her doing. She hugs me.

"It's good to see you, motherfucker. I had no idea how I was going to get away from those guys."