Getting @stardvark and @dragonlotus was easy. Next was the hard part of getting to our ships with three sleepy aiways, only two of whom were accustomed to combat. I took the lead with @hissyfit bringing up the rear.

  Ships docked on the main level of the miniature space station on the upper and lower platforms. Each was equipped with refueling extensions. Most commonly, a ship would stop, refuel, resupply at the convenience store, and leave. Long-term docking was on the upper third of the space station where Peaches was located. If our ships hadn't been at Steve's Ship & Shop on the lower third for repairs, we would have been parked nearby, a quick run to get to safety.

  I didn't trust that we would be able to break into a ship near Peaches. We might be able to find someone here who needed help escaping, and then join them on their ship, but would the ship be big enough?

  I weighed my options, but the truth was, I just didn't want to leave without Oblivion. If we could use the comm system, I would tell the ship to come pick me up at the rooftop platform where @auroraloon and I had shot our pistols at the stars. Instead, we'd have to make our way down to Steve's Ship & Shop.

  Oblivion was large enough that we could take on a ton of evacuees. We'd make a run for it and see who we could gather on our way.

  I led the four of us to the stairwell, flinging the door open.

  "What about the elevator?" asked @stardvark from behind me.

  I turned back toward them. "Do you hear those screams? Do you really want to wait for an elevator? Do you want the elevator to open only to be swarmed by overtaken? I don't."

  I started down the stairs, two or three at a time, trying not to trip. It was dark. Red emergency lights had finally come on, throwing eerie shades that added to our overall sense of fear. They really needed to make the lights a happier color, maybe play sweet happy music. I'd rather die thinking about unicorns playing in a field of open grass than pondering if my blood would be the same shade as the light flickering against the walls.

  "Besides," I added, "I've died in an elevator before." I talk sometimes when I'm nervous. "I was in a mining shaft. We knew the asteroid was getting unstable, so we had to rush out. I overrode the system so we could fly up out of the rock before the asteroid fell apart."

  Down to floor three. So far so good.

  "We made it, but we had too much speed and the elevator smashed through the end and we floated out into space anyway, in our little crushed elevator box, with nothing to do except wait until we ran out of oxygen."

  The screaming was getting louder. We made it down to the second floor. I had a horrible thought, then, that I'm ashamed of. I hoped that enough people were staying at Peaches that the overtaken would be busy chasing down hotel guests in the hallways and busting through the doors to their rooms, occupied sufficiently to be oblivious to the stairwell.

  @stardvark screamed. He let out a nice scream for an old man aiways.

  The blood on the walls and the bullet-riddled bodies draped across the landing between floors told me that @awesomedog had been here.

  We had to go further down the dark stairway to reach Steve's, but I paused as we stepped over the dead bodies, careful not to slip on the bloody steps, and reached the ground floor of Peaches.

  "Catch your breath a moment," I instructed as I pondered.

  "What is it?" asked @hissyfit.

  I looked back at our group. I could sense the nervousness running through them, flashes of sweat on @hissyfit's forehead, the weariness of too little sleep on their faces, evident in their sunken eyes.

  "We're going to push forward," I stated. "There's no going back. We get to the ships or we die. But we're bringing people with us." I turned toward the door to the Peaches lobby. "@hissyfit, lead them down to Steve's. I'll be right behind. Move quickly."

  She nodded, grabbing @dragonlotus by the sleeve, pulling her along as they set off down the stairs again. @stardvark trailed after. @stardvark and @dragonlotus were still in pajamas, basic Solar Union-issued pajamas, solid blue pants and shirts. I hadn't given them time to change. Their bare feet were making little bloody footprints on the floor. Someone's going to come here and think that's creepy, I thought to myself. It's not. It's hopeful. Just a group of tired survivors showing the way to safety.

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  After the sound of them moving downward left my ears, I counted to five. Then I threw the door to the lobby open.

  "Follow me to safety!" I yelled. Then I saw what was happening.

  This was the same floor where long-term docking was. Four sections of parking areas ran around the circumference of Peaches' ground floor. That meant that everyone in the hotel with a working ship was converging here, trying to get to their ships.

  When I close my eyes at night, sometimes I see the Peaches lobby and scream.

  A group of three ran from my left toward Docking Area A, popping out of the hallway from the rooms on the first floor. A woman with medium-length black hair led the group, followed by two men. They were hastily clothed, shirts untucked, very much aware that they needed to evacuate.

  But no one here knew what I knew. The woman saw one of the overtaken and waved to it. "What's going on?" she shouted.

  She barely had a chance to react before the zombie was on her, tearing into her neck and bringing her to the floor. The men with her screamed but took no more than a few steps before more overtaken tackled them, growling and chomping.

  The lobby was a disaster of blood and moving bodies. Some were mangled too much to do more than crawl along the floor, leaving streaks of blood behind them, turning before they could die. Next to the front desk, rested a pair of legs - just the hips down to feet, the middle torn away, eaten out, clawed apart. I didn't want to know where the upper part of their body was.

  Anyone witnessing the scene who had the ability to self-destruct would have been wise to do so. Unless you had a cat in a pillowcase and a murder ship waiting for you.

  "Follow me to safety!" I yelled again, propping open the door to the stairwell with a nearby garbage can.

  Overtaken were going to get into the stairwell eventually anyway. At least this way, anyone still alive could follow me. If people couldn't get to their owns ships, or if they were workers here on the space station, I could provide transport. But was anyone even alive to take advantage of my offer?

  There! Another aiways came dashing out from a door behind the front desk. She was a dark skinned aiways with long black hair, wearing an orange Peaches hotel shirt. That was @weathermagic, one of the front desk associates. I raised my hand, about to yell again, when she fell as though tripped, shrieking.

  So that's where the upper body was, I thought, eyeing the lonely pair of legs on the floor in front of the desk. Its torso must have fallen over behind the desk.

  @weathermagic crawled with all her might from out behind the front desk, and sure enough, the upper body of the zombie was clinging to her, biting at the air as it tried to find a solid grip, her movements bouncing it just out of reach.

  I ran out toward her, firing my funk20 at the nearest zombie to clear a path. I didn't want to waste ammo, but I believed I could get to her. I shot another that was coming at me from my left, and I didn't slow down.

  I kicked the overtaken in the head, punting it off @weathermagic. Then I crouched over her, turning to fire again as two more came toward us.

  "Run!" I yelled, leaping over her to head back to the stairwell.

  More overtaken came at us, spilling out of the bar. I glanced back and @weathermagic was climbing to her feet, tears of terror running down her face.

  "You can make it," I lied.

  I had a chance with my shotgun, but @weathermagic didn't. We were going to be overrun. If I let them take her, I would have a clear shot back to the stairs. Could I make that kind of decision? What would @auroraloon do?

  I held my ground until she was standing beside me.

  That was when more aiways trickled out of the nearby hall, running as fast as they could toward the docking area. They must have been waiting for a diversion. Three, six, and then at least a dozen, sprinting for the docking bay doors and the long hallway out to the ships.

  We weren't enough of a distraction to save them.

  I shot two more overtaken coming at us, knocking them to the ground, and then we ran, @weathermagic and I, toward the stairs. I swung my funk20 in an arc at a third, throwing them off balance. They ran into a wall and fell to the floor.

  The mass of zombies from the bar had now swarmed the people making for their ships. I noticed for the first time the smell of blood in my nose. The sounds of yelping, cries for help, and cheers to push on overlapped in my head with every step toward the stairs. But what I remember most was the chewing. The steady beat, the background noise, of chewing. I vomited as I ran, trying not to slow down.

  Maybe a few would make it, but I couldn't save them. I had to save myself now.

  When I got to the door, I looked back, kicking the garbage can away to close it behind us.

  There was @foxcutter, his head buried deep into one of the aiways that had tried to flee. The aiways was thrashing its limbs, trying helplessly to fight, energy dissipating as @foxcutter chewed through their torso. Then the thrashing stopped.

  @foxcutter raised his head and looked at me, his face coated in gore.

  I wondered what he was thinking. Are you in there, @foxcutter? It's me, @kittyboy. Do you recognize me?

  Sadness washed over me. I wanted to shoot him, to put him out of his misery, but he was too far away for the shotgun, and it would have to be a perfect shot with my shh500 pistol. My time shooting at the stars gave me confidence that I could do it, but I had no time. We had to run.

  @weathermagic started up the stairs. Above us, I heard the ferocious cries that indicated the infected were now in the upper stairway.

  "What are you doing?" I cried out.

  "We're supposed to go to the roof in an emergency," she called out from the landing.

  "No! They're up there," I yelled. "Come with me. Down to Steve's. I have a ship."

  One, two, three seconds I waited until finally @weathermagic appeared. Down the red flashing stairway we went.

  I cradled Sango, still balled up in the pillowcase, as we sped along, holding him close in my arms to soothe us both.