she’d been given the command to get away from the bad people who smelled like blood and sick—and “Unis, away!” was such a rare command, a danger command, that she obeyed it even more fervently than she obeyed all the others—when she’d been given that command, she had followed it to the letter. She had led the Woman to this safe place, this good place, because she, Unis, was a good dog.
Unis let her tail smack the floor again. Lesley glanced over toward the flat-coated retriever and smiled despite her anxiety.
“Silly dog,” she said. Then she went back to glaring at the control board.
* * *
8:03 P.M.
It had taken longer for Dwight and Rebecca to reach the back of the hall than they had expected. Preview Night had barely begun when the doors closed, but thousands of people had still managed to cram themselves inside, and many of them had fled for the walls when the chaos began. Several of the display booths looked more like armed encampments now. The jokingly named “webcomic district”—three half aisles of semi-affiliated booths manned by the teams from popular online comic strips—was already completely shut off to outside traffic. A surprising number of webcomic artists turned out to be pretty good with tools; they had constructed barriers over the mouths of the aisles in record time and were in the process of shoring them up with chairs and sheets of plywood scavenged from the booths at the center of their territory. It would have been impossible for anyone to get in without a crowbar. Anyone who wanted to use a crowbar would find themselves facing some stringent resistance from the assembled artists and their respective staffs, all of whom watched passersby with wary, narrowed eyes.
“It’s starting to look like a Mad Max film in here,” said Rebecca, as they finally reached the wall. Between the detour around the sealed-off webcomics district and the detour around the seating area in front of the snack bar—which had turned into an impromptu babysitting crèche and gathering place for the wounded—they had already been gone longer than either one of them wanted to be.
Dwight nodded grimly. “It’s just going to get worse from here, you know. If we don’t find a way out….how many of these people do you think remembered to bring food or water? How many people with medical conditions didn’t bring an extra dose of their medication?” He hooked a thumb toward the snack bar, still being manned by anxious-looking employees. “If those people had a brain in their heads, they’d lock up and run. There’s going to be a riot when folks start getting hungry, and this place is going to be the epicenter.”
“We have food,” said Rebecca, looking shaken.
“We also have a lot of people who’ve got each other’s backs. Besides, Leita and Shawn have got everybody continuing the fortifications while we’re away. We’re going to come back to an impenetrable fortress. Just you watch.”
Rebecca sighed. “I’d just like it if we made it back.”
Dwight smiled, nudging her in the ribs with his elbow. “Come on. This is Comic-Con. How dangerous can it be?”
In the distance, someone screamed. Rebecca raised an eyebrow, and just looked at him. They kept walking.
“Do you really think it’s the zombie apocalypse?” asked Rebecca, after they’d traveled another fifteen yards or so through the crowded hall. At least most of the people near the wall were relatively nonviolent unless approached too quickly, and very few of them had visible injuries. Rebecca paled every time she saw someone with blood on their shirt, but managed not to keel over. There were times when a fear of blood became a genuine inconvenience, and this was one of them.
“I don’t know.” Dwight shook his head. “There’s been some really weird stuff on the Internet lately. I just wish we could get online from in here.”
“The wireless will come back eventually. It has to.” The exhibit hall security
Unis let her tail smack the floor again. Lesley glanced over toward the flat-coated retriever and smiled despite her anxiety.
“Silly dog,” she said. Then she went back to glaring at the control board.
* * *
8:03 P.M.
It had taken longer for Dwight and Rebecca to reach the back of the hall than they had expected. Preview Night had barely begun when the doors closed, but thousands of people had still managed to cram themselves inside, and many of them had fled for the walls when the chaos began. Several of the display booths looked more like armed encampments now. The jokingly named “webcomic district”—three half aisles of semi-affiliated booths manned by the teams from popular online comic strips—was already completely shut off to outside traffic. A surprising number of webcomic artists turned out to be pretty good with tools; they had constructed barriers over the mouths of the aisles in record time and were in the process of shoring them up with chairs and sheets of plywood scavenged from the booths at the center of their territory. It would have been impossible for anyone to get in without a crowbar. Anyone who wanted to use a crowbar would find themselves facing some stringent resistance from the assembled artists and their respective staffs, all of whom watched passersby with wary, narrowed eyes.
“It’s starting to look like a Mad Max film in here,” said Rebecca, as they finally reached the wall. Between the detour around the sealed-off webcomics district and the detour around the seating area in front of the snack bar—which had turned into an impromptu babysitting crèche and gathering place for the wounded—they had already been gone longer than either one of them wanted to be.
Dwight nodded grimly. “It’s just going to get worse from here, you know. If we don’t find a way out….how many of these people do you think remembered to bring food or water? How many people with medical conditions didn’t bring an extra dose of their medication?” He hooked a thumb toward the snack bar, still being manned by anxious-looking employees. “If those people had a brain in their heads, they’d lock up and run. There’s going to be a riot when folks start getting hungry, and this place is going to be the epicenter.”
“We have food,” said Rebecca, looking shaken.
“We also have a lot of people who’ve got each other’s backs. Besides, Leita and Shawn have got everybody continuing the fortifications while we’re away. We’re going to come back to an impenetrable fortress. Just you watch.”
Rebecca sighed. “I’d just like it if we made it back.”
Dwight smiled, nudging her in the ribs with his elbow. “Come on. This is Comic-Con. How dangerous can it be?”
In the distance, someone screamed. Rebecca raised an eyebrow, and just looked at him. They kept walking.
“Do you really think it’s the zombie apocalypse?” asked Rebecca, after they’d traveled another fifteen yards or so through the crowded hall. At least most of the people near the wall were relatively nonviolent unless approached too quickly, and very few of them had visible injuries. Rebecca paled every time she saw someone with blood on their shirt, but managed not to keel over. There were times when a fear of blood became a genuine inconvenience, and this was one of them.
“I don’t know.” Dwight shook his head. “There’s been some really weird stuff on the Internet lately. I just wish we could get online from in here.”
“The wireless will come back eventually. It has to.” The exhibit hall security
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