“Eve seems awfully attentive to Connor,” Fred said as the two left the room. “You think they’re . . . I mean, I know she’s like five years older than him, but-”
Gunn shrugged. “I wouldn’t read too much into it. She’s probably just making nice with Connor to get on Angel’s good side.”
“What? How would being close with Connor get someone in good with Angel?”
Gunn ran his hand over his bald head nervously. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Busy night. Plus, Angel seems like he’s interested in the kid, but that’s just me being crazy. You should probably just forget I said anything. Like I said. Crazy night.”
“Speaking of which, how’s Lorne?”
“Good.
“Gunn,” Angel called, coming toward them. “I need to talk to Lorne. Right now.”
“So go talk to him.”
“Security won’t let me into his room.”
“Room?” Fred interjected. “He should be in the hospital wing.”
“They’re taking him there,” Gunn said. He got on his radio and sent instructions to that effect.
“I need to talk to him before anyone else does,” Angel said.
“Then you better get up there quickly,” Gunn said.
Angel frowned and turned to walk away.
“We should go with him,” Fred said as Angel headed toward the elevator.
“Good idea. Let’s get out of here.”
“Sorry,” Connor said, removing his hand from inside Eve’s blouse. He backed away a bit. “I didn’t mean to push or anything.”
Eve kissed him passionately, sliding her tongue into his mouth. “Shut up.” She kissed his ear. “It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just early for us.” She kissed his neck.
Connor kissed her back. A long wet kiss. “Does this count as a date?” They both giggled.
“We danced,” Eve said. “We’re making out. Sounds kind of like a date. If we have dinner together, I think that cements it.”
Connor kissed her again. “I’ll make you dinner. Something you’ll love.”
“There’s tons of food downstairs,” Eve said, sucking gently on his neck. “We can just go down there. But not yet.”
Connor laughed. “Better not give me hickey.”
“Too late.”
“What are you, marking your territory?”
“You’re just so yummy.”
Connor kissed her again, then jumped with a start. “Hey,” he said to someone behind Eve. “Um, sorry. Is this your office?”
Eve turned to see the outline of someone standing in the doorway. A figure stood there in shadow, the only light coming from the hallway behind him. The figure was slumped somewhat, not seeming to move.
It’s not a dream. It’s a memory.
Connor looked around the room frantically. “Did you hear that?”
“I didn’t hear anything.” Eve looked back to the man standing in the doorway. “What’s your problem?”
Connor wanted to say what the man’s problem was, but knew it was ridiculous. It was Halloween. The guy was probably just wearing a costume. But the man was bathed in darkness. It wasn’t his appearance that was making Connor think what he was thinking.
“Is he . . . is he a zombie?” Connor asked, realizing he must sound like a lunatic. “He’s . . . he’s not breathing. I don’t know how I know that, but . . . and he smells like . . . like dead . . . stuff. Sorry. I don’t mean to be . . . crazy.”
Eve stood as Connor moved protectively in front of her.
“Dude,” Connor said aggressively. “I’m a professional athlete. Well, I am in a month, anyway. If you don’t, like, talk or something, I’m going to beat your ass.” He looked down and whispered to himself. “Why the hell do I think he’s a zombie?”
It’s a memory, Connor, the sweet female voice said. He didn’t know where the voice was coming from.
“We need to get out of here,” Eve said.
“Yeah.”
Connor walked cautiously toward the door. As he moved near the figure, he saw unmistakably the dead, inhuman features. Was it a costume? Why wasn’t it moving?
The zombie jumped at Eve as they approached. Connor jumped in front of Eve and shoved it away.
“Kline?” Eve said frantically.
The zombie lunged at Connor and knocked him back. It snapped at him, but Connor moved his head out of the zombie’s reach. Eve kicked at it to no avail. Connor rolled the zombie off of him and jumped to his feet. “We have to get out of here!”
No sooner did Connor announce his plans to leave then metal shutters began falling over the windows, locking the building down. An alarm started blaring.
Upstairs, Wesley had crawled across the office, leaving a thick trail of blood on the carpet. He’d hit the panic button in his room. As the building locked down, Wesley smiled with satisfaction that Sirk would be unable to escape. Even by leaping out a window.
“What’s going on?” Angel asked Gunn as the building began shutting down.
“I don’t know,” Gunn said, looking at his state-of-the-art, next gen Blackberry computer/ cell phone. “Looks like Wes triggered it. I’ll call up and ask why?” He got on his radio and called for security to cut the alarm.
“Fred,” Angel said. “I need you to check on our guests.”
“But Angel,” Fred protested.
“I need to talk to Lorne alone,” Angel said in frustration. He needed to explain about what he read from Connor during karaoke.
Gunn began walking away, as Fred stood gaping. She prepared herself to leave, remembering that Lorne was one of the people she and Wesley could trust. That group of trusted friends seemed to be shrinking by the day.
Angel turned back as two security guards brought Lorne from the security office. There was a bandage on his forehead.
“Lorne, what happened?” Fred asked.
“Must have passed out and hit my head.”
“I need to talk to you,” Angel said.
“Who?” Lorne asked. “Angel, I’m tired and my head’s killing me. And these sirens aren’t helping me. I gotta get to bed.” No sooner had he said that, then the alarms stopped. “Wow,” Lorne said gratefully. “Thanks.”
“We need to talk,” Angel said, gripping Lorne’s arm. “About Connor.”
“Who’s Connor?” Lorne asked.
“One of your clients for the sports agency,” Fred said in disbelief.
“My department has a lot of clients, Fredikins. Much as I’d love to, I can’t know them all off the top of my head.”
“He’s your star client who’s getting ten million dollars a year from the Kings,” Fred said in disbelief. “You haven’t shut up about him for weeks. How can you not . . . Wait a minute.”
Fred moved toward Lorne quickly. The guards both pulled their pistols. “Stay back, ma’am!” they shouted.
Angel pulled both pistols away from the guards and shoved them away from Lorne. “Never point a weapon at her again!”
Fred ripped the bandage from Lorne’s head.
“Ow!” the green demon cried in protest.
Under the bandage was a small circular bloody spot, exactly like the one left by Wolfram & Hart when they drilled Lorne’s head for memories the previous year.
“That’s why you don’t remember him,” Fred said, throwing the bandage down. “Someone didn’t want him remembering what he read when Connor sang. They must have gotten a little overzealous when they drilled him.”
Angel’s face vamped. He grabbed the guards and shoved them angrily against the wall. “Call your boss! I want to talk to him. Right. Now.”
One of the guards nervously raised his radio. “Um, Mr. Gunn. Mr. Angel needs a word.”
“Grrrrr . . . . zzzzzz . . . busy, I . . . . grrrzzzz,” was all the radio squawked back.
Suddenly, the party outside filled with screams. A moment later, gunshots could be heard.
“That’s weird,” Lorne said. “Usually the screams are after the gunshots.”
“We have to get to the infirmary!” Gunn was yelling. “Make a path for the infirmary!”
More guns began firing frantically, getting closer and closer. Angel ran to the door between the hallway where he stood the main lobby where the festivities had been taking place. Outside, pandemonium reigned.
Half of the party was now zombies. The other half was screaming in terror. A security guard with a shotgun ran forward and blasted the head off one of the zombies. The blood splattered two people behind it. The two people began shaking and convulsing, then began taking on traits of a zombie.
Gunn was carrying Wesley on his back. As they fought their way toward Angel, blasting a path through the zombies, members of his security team were being picked off by the endless onslaught.
Angel leapt into the fray. Fred prepared to follow, but Gun shouted, “Fred, stay back! Get ready to barricade the doors!”
Angel shoved three zombies back as Gunn and two survivors of his security detail (originally consisting of ten men) ran past into the door. He dropped the bleeding Wesley to the ground, turned, and pulled out his pistol. He quickly shot three zombies that were charging the hallway.
Fred prepared to close the doors and frantically looked at Angel. “Angel! Hurry!”
Angel looked back at her with a look of urgency and panic. How could he explain it without explaining everything?
“Close the doors, Fred,” Gunn said. “He’s got something he needs to do.”
Angel nodded gratefully and turned toward the elevator. Shoving zombies out of his way, Angel made his way to the elevator.
“The elevator?” Connor said. “The stairs are closer. And they have signs that read in case of emergency, use stairs!”
“We’re in lockdown,” Eve said frantically. “Movement from level to level is restricted. The stairs have been blocked off.”
“Then isn’t the elevator shut down, too?”
“Unless you have a high level access code, like I happen to have.”
Connor smiled. “You’re like, my favorite girlfriend ever.”
“You’re definitely a keeper, yourself. I mean, you tackled a zombie for me. How many guys would do that?”
Connor moved to the door and prepared to open it and fight his way to the elevator. He paused and looked at Eve. “So . . . we’re definitely fighting zombies.”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Connor prepared to open the door and again paused. “That’s crazy, isn’t it?”
“Maybe just a little.” Sensing Connor’s fears, she kissed him softly on the lips. “Don’t worry, baby. You’re not going crazy.”
Connor smiled and opened the door. He smashed the skull of a zombie with a lamp stand and moved into the hallway. The regular lights were out and only red emergency lights lit the hallway. There was an eerie silence.
“We should try to be quiet,” Eve whispered as she crept toward the elevator.
Suddenly, several sets of fast and frantic footsteps made their way toward them.
“Run!” Eve shouted. Both took off toward the elevator. Connor ran slowly, making sure he could stay between Eve and the approaching footsteps. He glanced over his shoulders to see three zombies running quickly toward them. He was unarmed and there were three of them. And they were strong.
The zombies were coming fast. Connor knew he and Eve would make it to the elevators. But they’d never get into an elevator before the zombies caught them.
Connor, you can do it. You were trained to do it. You were built to do it.
Eve got to the elevator and began punching in her access code. Connor watched her nervously. “Shit!” she shouted. “God damn it, Gunn!”
You were built to do this.
Eve looked up nervously. He could see the fear in her eyes. Connor’s mind saw a girl screaming and crying, being dragged to her death. He began turning to face the zombies. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he could see a beautiful blonde-haired woman, about Eve’s age. Though she was gorgeous, Connor’s feelings for her weren’t sexual. The woman was whispering to him. It was her voice he was hearing.
Remember, Connor. Just remember.
Connor blindly threw a roundhouse punch. He nailed a zombie in the side of its head. The force of his punch knocked it into another zombie. The third leapt over the other two fallen zombies. Connor grabbed it and, using its momentum, threw it halfway down the hallway.
The elevator door opened just as one of the zombies recovered and got to its feet. Connor prepared to fight it when strong hands gripped him firmly and pulled him into the elevator. The doors closed. Connor turned to see Angel.
“You’re safe!” Angel said, pulling Connor into a hug. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“Wow,” Connor joked. “You guys must really want that commission on my hockey contract.”
Angel laughed and pulled Connor into another hug. Connor quickly pulled away.
“Look,” Connor said nervously. “Angel-cakes. I mean Angel. Or . . . whatever, I’m not gay. And I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it, I’m just saying it’s not not-wrong with me. I know you and that guy Lorne got this thing going on with the nicknames and the make up and him wearing red contacts and horns. And that’s all cool and everything. But I’m not gay. I know I look kind of girly, but I don’t . . . you know . . . I don’t . . . gay.”
Angel laughed. “That’s um . . . good to know.” Angel looked at Connor’s neck. “Is that a hickey?”
“I found him upstairs with a mail girl,” Eve covered quickly. “I told her the company policy on dating clients.”
“We have a company policy on dating clients?” Angel asked.
“Yeah. It’s . . . don’t.” Eve suddenly noticed they weren’t moving. “So, are we going to the lobby?”
“Oh,” Angel said. “The lobby’s covered with . . .” he glanced at Connor. “Gang members.”
“It’s okay,” Connor said. “I know we’re fighting zombies. I’m cool with it. But there’s one thing I don’t get. I thought zombies were slow moving, dim-witted creatures that craved human flesh. Like vampires.”
“Who told you that?” Eve asked.
Connor looked at the ceiling, pondering. “I can’t remember.”
Your father the voice came.
“My father,” Connor said. “I just don’t remember when.”
“I think there’s something different about these zombies,” Angel said. “I saw someone turn when they were exposed to the zombie blood. Normal zombies don’t work that way.”
“Angel, where are we going?” Eve asked.
“The white room,” he answered, reaching for the floor buttons.
“No!” Eve said, pushing his hand away.
“Eve, it’s the only safe place in the building for my son!”
“Son?” Connor asked.
Angel looked at Connor nervously. “Um . . . I mean s-u-n, sun. I have this sun necklace that means a lot to me.”
“We can’t go to the white room!” Eve said frantically.
“Why not?”
“It’s just this thing with the universe and energy and the third law of thermodynamics.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Angel asked.
“Energy can neither be created nor destroyed,” Connor pitched in. “Only altered in form.” He smiled at Eve. “I was going to be a physics major.”
“We can go to floor three,” Eve said. “Records. You need access to get in there.”
“Fine,” Angel said, hitting the button for floor three. “But we have to talk about this other thing sooner or later.”
“Wesley, how are you?” Fred asked.
“Oddly,” Wesley said as he hit the morphine button. “Being shot twice doesn’t hurt much more than being shot once. It’s a serious case of diminishing returns.”
“Good to hear,” Gunn said.
Wesley looked around and saw they were in the science lab. “Why aren’t I in the hospital wing?”
“We got cut off,” Gunn said.
“By?”
“Zombies,” Fred said.
“Why is it every time we come to this damn building, we have to deal with zombies?” Wesley asked.
“Well,” Fred said. “It is an evil law firm.”
“Your gut looks like my head feels,” Lorne said, sitting next to Wesley.
“Oh Lorne,” Wes said, seeing the demons’ forehead. “Did they suck your brain again? You should have some morphine. Because it’s bloody brilliant.” He began laughing like a drugged man.
“Gunn!” an intercom called. “It’s Angel, pick up.”
Gunn hit the button on the intercom. “Check you out,” he laughed. “Using technology.”
“Eve’s showing me how.”
“Eve’s with you?” Gunn said, feeling relieved. “So you got Connor, too, then?”
“What?” Angel asked. “Yeah, but-”
“Why did you shut down my access codes?!” Eve yelled.
“That was Sirk,” Gunn said. “He shot Wes and set the zombies loose.”
“Actually,” Fred called, running over to the intercom. “I spoke to Wesley . The zombies Sirk tried to call aren’t like the one’s we’re facing. I’m having Knox check the records, but I think Wolfram & Hart may have created some kind of zombie virus.”
“That makes sense,” Connor called from Angel’s intercom. “The zombie we ran into was from the lab.”
“Are you sure?” Fred asked.
“Photographic memory,” Connor said proudly. “Andrew Kline was the guy.”
“He’s right,” Eve concurred.
Fred sat back nervously.
“What is it?” Gunn asked.
“Andrew Kline was Knox’s right hand man,” she said.
In the records department, Angel looked at Connor. “I’m sorry to ask you this, but can you give me and Eve some privacy?”
“Fine,” Connor said with mock petulance. “But don’t come crying to me when you get eaten by zombies because you didn’t let me help.”
Connor headed away from the corner where Angel and Eve were using the intercom. As he walked, he ran into a woman sitting at a desk. “Hey,” Connor said. “Where’d you come from?”
“This is where I belong,” the woman said. “I’m Records and Reference.”
“So, do you like . . .know where all the files are?”
“Of course.”
“So, if I asked about Lorne, the head of entertainment-”
“Lorne,” the woman said. “Full name, Kevlornswa of the Deathwok Clan. Born in Pylea, came to this-”
“Okay, cool. Pylea? Never heard of it. Must be in Africa or something. What about me? Connor Reilly.”
“Connor Reilly,” the woman said, her eyes flickering back and forth. “Record sealed.”
Connor cocked his head to the side and looked at her. “How about Mujabattcatta boyan si?”
The woman’s eyes flickered again. “No record found.”
“Adoption, Connor Reilly,” Connor said.
Eyes flicker. “Record sealed.”
Connor smiled sadly. “But there is a record.”
Eyes flicker. “I . . . I don’t think I should have told you that.”
“Well,” Connor said, still smiling sadly. “Everybody makes mistakes.”
“Not me,” the woman protested as Connor walked away. “I’m Records and Reference!”
“Okay,” Angel said as Connor walked back to them. “We have a plan to get to the science lab. From there, we think we can come up with a plan to deal with the zombie plague.”
Connor laughed and shook his head.
“What?” Eve asked. She could tell his laugh was an upset laugh.
“I just can’t figure out whether I’m in a bad horror movie or a bad after-school special.” Connor snorted derisively. “Zombie plague.”
“Come on,” Angel said, leading the way out.
“Is this like a complicated trick or treat gag on me?” Connor asked. “Big joke on Connor. Zombies are after you. Run like hell. Wolfram & Hart gives our clients every possible service, including scaring the shit out of you on Halloween.”
“Connor,” Eve said. “This isn’t a joke. I promise.”
“I know. I just thought my parents would have told me. That’s all.”
Eve and Angel exchanged a confused look. “Um, Connor,” Eve said. “I’m pretty sure your parents don’t know about zombies.”
“But if they did, I’m sure they’d tell you,” Angel said.
“Don’t be so sure. There’s apparently all sorts of things they didn’t tell me.”
“Well,” Angel said, not sure where this was coming from or headed. “When we get you out of this alive, you can take that up with your parents.”
Connor smirked and eyed Angel suspiciously. “I will. I’ve got all sorts of questions for them. All of them.”
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