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She turned and ran along the edge, turning down and scuttling low along the wall of the building. From the vacant lot below, she looked back once at the old human, his shrinking heat signature, standing alone, watching her go.

Eph went to Zack, pulling on his arm, keeping him back from the scalding UV light of the lamp inside the window cage.

“Get away!” yelled Zack.

“Buddy,” said Eph, trying to calm him down, calm them both down. “Guy. Z. Hey.”

“You tried to kill her!”

Eph didn’t know what to say, because indeed he had. “She’s… she’s dead already.”

“Not to me!”

“You saw her, Z.” Eph didn’t want to have to talk about the stinger. “You saw it. She’s not your mom anymore. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to kill her!” Zack said, his voice still raw from choking.

“I do,” said Eph. “I do.”

He went to Zack, trying again for some contact, but the boy pulled away. He went instead to Nora, who was handy as a female substitute, and cried into her shoulder.

Nora looked back at Eph with consolation in her eyes, but Eph wouldn’t have it. Fet was at the door behind him.

“Let’s go,” said Eph, rushing from the room.

The Night Squad

THEY CONTINUED UP the street toward Marcus Garvey Park, the five off-duty cops on foot, and the sergeant in his personal vehicle.

No badges. No cruiser cameras. No after-action reports. No inquiries, no community boards, and no Internal Affairs.

This was about force. About setting things right.

“Communicable mania,” the feds termed it. “Plague-related dementia.”

What happened to good, old-fashioned “bad guys”? That term gone out of style?

The government was talking about deploying the Staties? The National Guard? The Army?

At least give us blue boys a shot first.

“Hey—what the… !”

One of them was holding his arm. A deep cut, right through the sleeve.

Another projectile landed at their feet.

“Fucking throwing rocks now?”

They scanned the rooftops.

“There!”

A huge chunk of decorative stone, a fleur-de-lis, came sailing down at their heads, scattering them. The piece shattered onto the curb, rock smacking their shins.

“In here!”

They ran for the door, busted inside. The first man in charged up the stairs to the second-floor landing. There, a teenage girl in a long nightshirt stood in the middle of the hallway.