---Em---

     In a lot of ways, Valynar—which is apparently this planet's name—reminds me of the place Gail and I spent six months. Minus the zombies, of course. Collapsed buildings and crumbling skyscrapers cluster around us like concrete trees, the windows either slicked with dust or curtained with moss. There's something unnerving about how empty the streets are; apart from dried up blood smeared across a windshield every now and then, no traces remain of there ever having been life here.

     "Where is everybody?" I ask as we climb over a twenty-car pile-up that stretches from sidewalk to sidewalk, blocking our way. Broken glass crunches beneath our shoes. I hop up onto the dented roof of an SUV and then give Gail a hand.

     "Underground, if they know what's best for 'em," says Ace, climbing up onto an overturned taxi. He speaks with an air of authority; he's clearly used to being in charge, even though he's no older than Comma. "It's almost curfew."

     "Curfew?" Comma scoffs. "Those demons really made you their bitches, didn't they?"

     "It's not about the demons," says Liluye—she's the ripper. Wears her black hair in a ponytail. Maybe a year or two older than I am. She points upward. Above us, a sole pterodactyl makes its rounds, occasionally blotting out the emerald sun with its massive wings.

     Crawford kicks in the windshield of a hatchback and arms himself with a shard of glass. I raise an eyebrow, and he gives a confident nod. Whatever helps him feel safe, I suppose.

     "They come in waves," says the hard-faced girl. Gisela, I think she said her name was. She's got a year or two on Ace. She's also got a pretty little nine-millimetre. Making me a bit jealous, to be honest; I miss that confidence that comes with knowing I can defend myself. I guess Crawford's glass shank makes sense in that light. "Three waves. At least. No one has survived more than three."

     "Waves?" Mya asks, leaping down from a sedan. 

     We continue on down the road now that we've cleared the pile-up. Past what used to be a convenience store. A bank. A burger joint.

     "First wave is pterodactyls," Gisela explains. "If you're lucky, they melt your face off with their acid saliva."

     "Been there, done that," says Crawford.

     "If you're not so lucky, they snatch you up and carry you off to their nest. It's anyone's guess what happens after that."

     Topher shudders. "What are the second and third waves?"

     "Best pray you never have to find out," says Ace. "Down here."

     We head down the entrance to a subway station. The silence here hits me particularly hard; part of me still expects to hear a busker strumming an acoustic guitar. Routine's a powerful thing. When we get to the turnstile, I instinctively go for my wallet. Gail giggles at my stupidity and hops over the barrier.

     Ace leads the way down to the southbound platform. He swipes a panel on his arm cannon, activating a built-in flashlight feature. "Gotta get me one of those," says Mya. We gather by the yellow area in front of the tracks. "So what? We taking the tube?"

     "Not exactly." Ace hops down onto the tracks and then signals for us to follow. He lights our way with the beam from his arm cannon, though there's not much to see down here. Just your typical subway tunnel. Complete with litter—old newspapers, chocolate bar wrappers, water bottles. Oh, and rats. Lots of rats.

     "Try not to piss off our furry friends," says Gisela. "We've worked out an understanding; we stay out of their business, and they stay out of ours."

     Comma's eyes widen. "You're joking, right? Even the rats boss you around?" She purposely falls behind the rest of the group. I slow my pace until we're both out of Ace's earshot.

     "What's up?"

     "What are we doing?"

     I shrug. "Surviving."

     "Barely." She shakes her head. "We can't stay here. I'm not going to live underground like... like some..."

     "Rat."

     "I was looking for something a little less on-the-nose, but sure."

     "No, rat." She doesn't catch my warning in time—she steps on the rat's tail. It hisses and sinks its teeth into her bare foot. She swears and kicks the rodent across the tracks. It lands on its paws, makes a strange gesture that I can only interpret as giving her the finger, and then scurries off.

     "Damn it, that stings!"

     "Why aren't you wearing shoes anyway?"

     "Selina took my shoes," she says, clutching her foot. "And hers didn't fit."

     "How'd you manage to make it this far without stepping on a piece of glass or something? Post-apocalyptic cities aren't exactly feet-friendly."

     "I'm a graceful walker."

     "Clearly not."

     My vision goes white. Damn Ace, shining the beam right in my face.

     "Everything okay back there?"

     "Just a rat bite," I say.

     "A rat bite?" Gisela storms over to us. "What part of don't mess with our furry friends did you not understand?"

     Comma shrugs. "It was a bald rat."

     "We have to get her to the infirmary," says the curly-haired girl. She's the youngest of them. Reminds me a bit of Olivia in her last year of middle school. Her eyeballs seem to tremble. "Jun and I got here a week ago." Jun—that must be the guy with the spiky hair. Seventeen-ish. That makes Topher the only one here who's over twenty. "One of our friends... got bit. He was infected. But he got better. I mean, but then they..." She chokes up. Jun places an arm over her shoulder.

     "Infected with what?" asks Comma.

     "A nasty virus," says Ace. "It's not exactly lethal, but if we don't treat it soon, you'll be wishing it was."

     "Lovely. While we're at it, is there anything else you didn't tell us about this paradise-on-earth?"

     "Feel free to leave any time."

     For once, Comma doesn't have a comeback.

     "Come on then," says Ace, directing the beam ahead of us. "We're almost there."

     We continue down the tracks until we reach an underground lot where a bunch of subway trains are parked. And there are people—lots of them. But the weirdest thing is the trains themselves. Just glancing through the windows, I can see sleeping bags, coffee tables, and even plastic plants. They're living in the subway cars.

     "Oh this just gets better and better, doesn't it," Comma mutters.

     "Lu. Take her to the infirmary." Ace nods at Comma. "The rest of you, follow me. You can fix yourselves up in the newbie car while I try and get you an appointment with the big man."

     "I'm going with her," I say.

     Comma throws me a puzzled look.

     "Need to make sure another shape-shifter doesn't swap places with you."

     She rolls her eyes. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

     Ace scrunches his eyebrows. Doesn't bother asking for an explanation. "Whatever." He heads off with the others.

     "You'll have to forgive Ace," says Liluye. "He fought back against Dante's gang when we first got here. They killed his sister to make sure he'd never do it again."

     "Dante?" I ask.

     "He's the demon in charge of this district. I would advise against getting on his bad side, but you've already done that."

     She walks us to the only visible door that isn't attached to a subway car and props it open. We follow her inside. They've re-purposed some sort of staff room into a makeshift infirmary. And by repurposed, I mean they're using a conference table with a worn-out mattress on it as an operating table. The floor has been lined with tarps, and there's a single cabinet, filled with pills, cough syrups, toothpaste, and an overwhelming amount of hand sanitizer.

     The doctor's even got scrubs on. "New patient?"

     Liluye nods. "This is, uh..."

     "Comma."

     "Em."

     "Nice to meet you both," says the doctor, who's alarmingly no older than twenty. "I'm Erez." He studies our faces. "Yeah, I get it; you were expecting someone older. If it makes you feel any better, I was pre-med before the world ended."

     It really doesn't.

     "So what seems to be the problem?"

     "Rat bite," says Comma, sticking out her foot.

     "Nasty little buggers, aren't they?" Erez puts on a pair of glasses and examines the bite. "Yep, this is infected all right. Luckily, I've got just the thing."

     "Let's have it then."

     "No can do." He points at Comma's bare feet. "I can give you a pair of slippers though."

     Liluye intervenes before Comma can overreact. "What's this about?"

     "New orders from the boss man. I can't administer any serious meds without his personal approval."

     Now this really has to be some sort of joke. I keep glancing at Comma, waiting for her to turn this place upside down. But she only nods.

     "We'll do that then."

     I frown. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

     "The symptoms of rat-plague don't start to show until three days after infection," Erez mentions. Rat-plague? That sounds reassuring. "Aside from the stinging, of course."

     "Then we've got three days to change the boss' mind," says Comma, nodding at Liluye. "Screw making an appointment. Take me to him."

Author's Note:

Poor Comma. What's going to be a bigger threat: Dante and his gang or the rat plague?

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