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the buzz of constant moaning, faint but ever present, beyond the high walls.

“This is quite a welcome,” Connor said. Miranda gave him a disgusted look, but he could tell it was not directed at him.

“When you’re rich enough and live in The Land of Make Believe, you can pay other people to deal with the unpleasantness of zombies.”

“Oh, don’t listen to her, Connor!” Karen piped up, leaning forward between them. “Miranda’s had a bug up her ass about Palo Alto since day one. I think it’s great! I just wish I could afford it.”

Miranda said, “It’s the most inherently unsafe place there is, includingthe wilderness.” Karen snorted with derision—she had obviously heard this all before—but Miranda was on a roll. “It’s filled with people who pretend there’s no such thing as zombies and never, ever leave.”

“What do you mean by that?” Connor asked.

Strains of “Hotel California” buzzed through his brain. Most people were resigned to a world of smaller horizons since the ZA, but the way Miranda said it, never leaving sounded sinister.

“Just what I said. They never, ever leave if they can help it. There’s no way you can see Emily anywhere else because she lives in the Happiest Concentration Camp on Earth,” Miranda said, scorn suffusing every syllable. “She was at the Agreement Day Gala the other night, but that’s it, and she had to get hammered to do it. She was just down the street but couldn’t bring herself to stop at SCU to see you! Everyone in Palo Alto is the same. This little convoy is the biggest dose of reality you’re going to get while we’re here, so enjoy it while it lasts.”

“That doesn’t sound like Emily,” Connor said.

“People change when the world falls apart.”

As they turned the corner, the convoy slowed and approached one of the biggest walls Connor had ever seen.

“How tall is this thing?”

“Forty feet, I think. It’s just the first one.” Miranda slowed the Rover to a halt and looked over to him as she opened the door. “Zombie Dog inspection.”

They got out of the Rover and waited. A two-story guard house sat next to the gate. It wasn’t an old house that had been converted, but a newer purpose-built structure. Dog handlers and the Watch Commander approached, and they were inspected by three different dogs.

The perimeter walls of Palo Alto were fifteen yards apart with miniature DMZs between. The area beyond the gates was fenced off. Warning signs were everywhere.

“DANGER!!! THIS AREA IS MINED - DO NOT PROCEED! VIOLATORS WILL BE SHOT!!!”

When they reached the third checkpoint, there was a twist to the routine they had gone through at the others. They were asked to surrender their weapons.

Karen began shrugging out of her shoulder holster.

“What are you doing?” Miranda demanded.

“They want our weapons, Miri. It’s not a big deal,” Karen answered. She gave Miranda a don’t-embarrass-me look that rivaled a fourteen-year-old mortified by her parents.

Connor watched, gobsmacked, as Karen handed over her gun, ammo, and machete to the young security officer in exchange for a claim ticket. He looked to Miranda, his shock so profound he could not wrap his mind around what he was seeing.

“Are they serious?”

“Yeah, but so am I.”

The guard stowed Karen’s weapons in a locker and then turned his attention to Miranda and Connor. “Ma’am, sir, I’m going to need your weapons.”

“You’re new, aren’t you?” Miranda asked.

“Yes, ma’am, I am.” The young man smiled. “I need you to surrender your weapons, if you don’t mind. Palo Alto is a weapons-free community.”

Miranda smiled at the young man. “Look, kid, I’m not trying to give you a hard time, but I mind. I don’t surrender my weapons to anyone, and neither does he.” She motioned to Connor with a tilt of her head. “I saw you check the list, so you know we’re guests of the Santorellos. Why don’t you go in and get the Watch Commander on the line. Tell him Miranda Tucci’s being a pain in the ass again.”

“Uh, well, I can do that, of course,” he said, flustered. “I don’t think it will do any good, though. Everyone surrenders their weapon, ma’am, even Councilman Santorello.”

The dog handlers had left to conduct a perimeter sweep, presumably along a route that would preclude being blown to smithereens. There was no one in the immediate vicinity that the guard could appeal to. Connor saw the young man’s mental arithmetic plainly. He couldn’t just insist since they were guests of important people, but he couldn’t let them keep their weapons, either. With a sigh, he left for the guardhouse.

“What the fuck, Miri?” Connor said.

“Palo Alto is a weapons-free community,” Miranda mocked.

Connor could not believe what he was hearing. It was ridiculous. It was insane.

“No one is armed in there?”

“Connor, look, it’s not a big deal,” Karen interjected in a placating tone while shooting Miranda a dirty look. “Palo Alto has the best security in the Valley. There’s no way a zombie can get past it. It’s just not possible, so you don’t need to carry a weapon.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Connor,” Karen said. “I’ve been here tons of times and it’s really safe. Of course people have weapons in their houses! They just don’t carry them.”

For a moment, Connor was robbed of speech. Karen stood before him, explaining that people out and about without weapons was as normal as whatever the hell normal passed for anymore. He suddenly wondered what kind of shoes she had been wearing earlier.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve been told ‘there’s no way a zombie can get in’ by some jackass who’s now a zombie?” he asked.

He might have said more, but the guard was returning. Connor saw the barest suggestion of a smile perk up the corners of Miranda’s mouth. She had known all along she would get her way.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” the young man began. He had the look of someone who’d been ripped up one side and down the other. “I didn’t realize you and members of your party are exempt from the weapons policy. I should have, though.”

“No worries, kid. I’m used to it,” Miranda replied, pushing off the Rover to stand straight.

The guard turned to Karen. “Would you like your weapons back, ma’am?”

Karen looked appalled. “God, no! Keep them. I don’t mind following the rules.”

“Let’s just go,” Miranda said.

They got back into the Rover. Delilah was practically prancing on the back seat having watched the heated conversations. She obviously felt she had missed out on something exciting.

Connor looked back at the guard while Miranda started the engine. He could tell the young man wanted to ask them something.

“Miri, see what he wants.”

She called over to the guard. “Hey, kid. What’s your name?”

He perked right up. “It’s John, ma’am.”

“So what do you want to know?”

John looked at her like he’d been caught out in a lie. “Uh, well, I was just wondering. Why won’t you surrender your weapons? Everyone I’ve seen is thrilled to not have to carry them.”

“Let me ask you something first. What’s the drill around here if a zombie gets in?”

“There’s never been a zombie in Palo Alto since the walls went up, ma’am.”

“Humor me.”

“Well, the first line of defense is the deterrent systems that keep zombies at least five miles away. We have dogs, firearms, flamethrowers, mines. There are a lot of options at our disposal.”

“And what if there’s more than one?”

“We can handle any number of hostiles, ma’am. We have the three walls.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Miranda allowed. “Just for the sake of argument, let’s say that a small group of zombies breaches the third wall. Then what?”

“Same as before. Security will neutralize the threat.”

“There are tens of thousands of zombies on this part of the Peninsula. For a small group to breach the third wall, almost all of them would be here,” Miranda said. “If you’ve got zombies inside, do you really think there will be any of the security team left out here to help those of you trapped inside?”

John’s brow furrowed. It seemed he had never thought of that. “Well…there’s still security in Palo Alto to protect the residents.”

“How much?”

“Fifty, at any given time.”

“And there’s what, three hundred, three hundred fifty people who haven’t seen a zombie in God knows how long? You’ve got a good ratio if all the guards survive, but that won’t happen. Never does. How well do you think people who’ve been living in there for a few years will react if there are zombies running around all of a sudden?”

“All they have to do is retreat to a secure location, ma’am. We’ll take care of it.”

“Well, John, it sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” Miranda replied with a nod. “To answer your question, I won’t surrender my weapons because I wouldn’t count on hired security to choose saving me over saving themselves when push comes to shove. There’s not enough money on Earth to bring a person back from the dead. As a person, anyway.”

“Begging your pardon, ma’am, but that’s what we’re paid to do. To

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