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“Can you get a signal from Dew’s satphone?”

“Yes.”

“Drop it there.”

PERRY MEETS CHELSEA

Perry’s body boiled inside. He and pain were old buddies, but his old buddy was making itself a little too welcome. His second infection, it seemed, would be just as much fun as the first.

He walked through the front door of the abandoned building. Two of Ogden’s men were inside. They’d recovered their weapons. The spores didn’t seem to affect them.

They let Perry pa.s.s.

Come to me, my protector.

He walked. The two men followed him, one behind each shoulder. Chelsea was on the second floor. He could sense her, feel her beauty, her power, her divinity. He walked up old stairs that creaked under his feet.

General Ogden said we’d have another hour or so before they shut down the city, so we have to hurry. We need a car. Then we can go for a ride.

He reached the top of the stairs.

Down the hall, standing in an empty, trash-strewn room of the abandoned building, he finally saw her.

Chelsea.

And his heart ached.

“I’m afraid I destroyed the gate, Chelsea.”

You have destroyed many things.

“No gate . . . what will you do?”

We’re like a new person now. A superorganism. Isn’t that a neat word? Can’t you feel the crawlers working through your body? They will change you even more, Perry. We will escape Detroit, and then you and I will make the whole world play together.

He walked up to her. His feet seemed heavy, each step like dead-lifting a thousand pounds. Every nerve screamed with agony.

She could do it. She could take over the world.

Chelsea Jewell could be G.o.d.

You understand now, don’t you? You understand how silly it was to fight all this time? Let’s get a car and go get some ice cream.

Perry smiled down at her. So tiny, so fragile, so beautiful.

He snapped his right arm back into the soldier behind him. A pile-driver elbow smashed into the man’s face, crus.h.i.+ng his left cheek and fracturing his right orbital bone. The man on Perry’s left started to raise his M4, but Perry pointed his .45 down and fired twice. Two bullets shredded the man’s foot into raw meat. The man s.h.i.+vered, dropped his gun and instinctively reached for his foot. As he bent down, Perry put the .45 to his head and pulled the trigger.

Perry swiveled right to face the man he’d elbowed. Two shots, both bullets ripping through the man’s chest. Before the body even hit the filthy wooden floor, Perry turned back and reached out.

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