"Okay, Runners, turn left at the cinema," Jody instructs. "Five, Steve, Lobatse, Janine's brought this intel at a really high price, so we need to make it count. Our informant's given us a list of Last Rider supply dumps. You three have a wide range of expertise and I need you workin' together today. That's not goin' to be a problem, is it?"

"Why would it be a problem?" I ask with a slight frown.

"Not on your end, Callista."

"Oh." I cast a glance at Steve and Kefilwe. "Oh."

"We're professionals, Jody, love," Steve says before I can ask what relationship issue the two are having now. "Here to find out what we can about the Riders and steal some supplies."

"How are the survivors of the rave?" Kefilwe asks softly, and Jody sighs in response.

"Traumatized. More even than normal zombie attack survivors. They really thought the cure meant they could have a party in peace."

The blonde's face hardens. "There is always someone to whom peace and quiet mean they must listen to the voices inside their own heads. Those are the people who must fill silence with explosions."

My eyes go wide before I snap my gaze over to Steve, who seems to be fighting back a sneer.

"Is that a comment about me?" He asks, but Kefilwe shakes her head.

"Not at all! And we are going to be professional today, Steven."

I internally cringe at the faux politeness. Oh, this is going to be such a terrible time for me.

"Okay!" Jody pipes in with forced cheerfulness. "So, to take your minds off... this, long range cams show six Riders headin' for your location. You need not to be around when they get there."

Steve hums. "Well, we can't waste intel, so we have to check out each supply dump."

"That's right. And because it's just that sort of gray, drizzly day, you've picked up a couple of zoms. Okay, professionals, the first dump is the tattoo parlor at the end of the road. Get there before the zoms or Riders, or-"

"We know," Kefilwe cuts in, and I'm taken aback by her clipped and impatient tone. "Let's run."

I want to ask what could possibly have happened to make them this upset, but since this mission is of importance, talking about our emotions could be distracting. The last thing we need is to be distracted and end up getting caught by the Last Riders. After seeing what they did to all those people, I'd hate to see what they'd do to us.

I don't understand how someone could do that to another person and be okay with it, laugh about it. Those were innocent people there. I don't like raves. I don't like the idea of being pushed against a ton of other sweaty people dancing with flashing lights while being high off of whatever drugs ravers take, since it's obviously not heroin. I don't like that, but other people apparently do, and this was a way for people to come together, to be happy...

And the Last Riders made sure to destroy it.

And some of them are headed our way, probably wanting to keep their caches safe. The zoms don't seem to be much of a problem. They can't even keep them selves upright. I suppose it's because of the streets still slick with last night's rain and early morning's drizzle.

It might make things harder for the Riders, too. Roads that are wet can often mean those in vehicles have to drive slower than normal. So, this will either slow them down, or they won't care and will crash. I hope they crash. They deserve to after what they did to those people.

Their massacre does show us that we've been underestimating them. At first we thought they were just a bunch of violent idiots, but for them to have created this drug and lace it with zombie blood and give it out to everyone at the rave proves that they have at last some working brain cells. Or at least, certain ones do. And if there are Riders who actually are smart and can come up with a plan the others will follow, we're all in trouble.

And we're in enough of that with the V-Types.

We make it to the tattoo parlor, the rusted bell above the door jingling softly when we go inside. I look around at the chairs, the multiple pictures of people with their new tattoos on the wall. Some of them range from small enough to barely be noticed to covering a whole appendage.

I tried getting a tattoo once to cover up one of the scars that now has unsurprisingly healed over. I didn't know that would happen at the time, but there was a tattoo artist in New Canton who said he would see what he could do to cover up that scar I had on my side from falling off a platform after being attacked by a zombie lynx when we first met Veronica.

It was pretty. It was a very detailed rose. Too bad my skin literally broke the ink down and dissolved it within about four days. At least, I think it was four days, since by the time I took the bandages off it was already gone. Van Ark's treatments never surprise me with their amount of cons.

"The zoms are slipping on the greasy pavement, so it'll be awhile before they catch up. The Riders will probably get to them before they get to you, so you have a little more time," Jody says, although her voice still holds that tiny bit of urgency. "How's our intel? Anthin' in the tattoo parlor worth havin'?"

Steve huffs as he shakes his head. "Nothing so far. Ink, pictures of people's backs-wait." He rummages through one of the boxes behind the counter, then hoists it up onto the counter with a whistle of admiration.

"What is that?" I ask, walking over and running a finger around the rim of the metal box. It's been sitting here for a while, judging by the layer of dust that's now on my fingertip.

"Did you find somethin'? Anythin' they used to make that rave drug?" Jody asks hopefully, but again Steve shakes his head. This time, though, he wears a smile.

"Not quite, but it's good. Cache of JXQ-93 incendiary bombs. Weaker, but more stable than burn cubes."

"What's a burn cube?" I ask, and he looks at me funny.

"Didn't you spend most of your apocalypse time in America in a military base? I thought they taught you a lot."

"I know how to kill you with nothing but a toothpick and a shoelace," I reply with a sarcastic smile. "I wasn't a soldier, mind you. I was a runner. We were given different priorities. Also, if I messed up when firing a gun, I would only have to worry about one fatality. If I messed up in trying to build a bomb-"

"You would have killed everyone in your base." He nods understandingly. "Got it."

"While they never said, they did take in some consideration to the fact that I was only twelve. That's why they taught me how to use knives and guns."

He grimaces at how casually I say that. "Well, either way, a burn cube isn't something you'll probably ever see in your lifetime."

I suck in a sharp breath. He just jinxed me. I know he did.

"But help me load these into our packs."

I nod. As I put them into my backpack, Jody speaks.

"This is good news. Our intel might actually be solid. Pack up quickly."

"No problem," I say, zipping up my backpack a few seconds before Steve does the same. "Where to next?"

"You know, I doubted this one, but as we have found something good here, the nearest cache is a one-star rated B&B called The Hawk and Harridan. Did you know someone called 'I Still Have Standards' actually moved reviews from travel sites to Roufflenet?"

I laugh as we leave the parlor. "Really? You'd think people would move other things up there, like recipes or-or best canning methods so you don't end up killing yourself by ingesting bacteria."

"Yeah," Steve replies with a sigh. "Some people just can't let things go."

Kefilwe's head snaps up, her face hardening into a stony-faced glare. "Do you have to?"

He rolls his eyes. "That wasn't about you."

The look she gives him in response tells me she does not believe that, and I look between the two. What the hell could possibly have them so upset with each other?

With his remark, I'm beginning to wonder if he's referring to the things he did while he worked for Sigrid. I mean, Kefilwe did hound Tom quite a bit for his past actions. Maybe she's bringing Steve's past actions back up. I don't see why she would though, since Steve has shown remorse for it.

"Professionalism?" Jody asks, cutting my thoughts and also causing the two that are currently sending each other death glares to look away sheepishly. "Your path to the B&B is down the cobbled street. There are Riders on the main road, so you'll need to use the back ways. Five, you take point."

"Gladly," I say, sprinting to get a few feet ahead of Kefilwe and Steve. While it's probably not the wisest choice to leave them to talk alone, I don't want to be caught in between one of their passive aggressive quarrels. It's very awkward.

When me and Sam fight, we fight. We don't jab at each other, waiting to see who will explode first. The worst petty thing we've done is the silent treatment, but it's better than the snide comments and the quick words of saying "I wasn't talking about you!"

Nothing is going to get solved that way.

But they are both adults, and they can solve whatever couple problems they have one their own time. I don't want to be a part of it.

That's why I'm glad to make it to the B&B in record time. My expression changes when we open the door, which nearly falls off the hinges.

"I can see why this place was rated one-star," Kefilwe replies. "I have seen mud shacks with more space and less dust."

My face scrunches up at the awful décor. The walls are covered by striped wallpaper, reminding me of a circus tent, and the floors are those checkered patterns, and there's a ripped-up zebra print armchair in the corner of the room.

"Still, we got lucky last time," Jody says. "Split up and see what you can find."

I head off towards the kitchenette while Steve heads towards the front room and Kefilwe to one of the bedrooms. All I find is a thick layer of dust coating every surface and a few kitchen appliances that I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. I open some of the drawers and flinch back at some of the spiders' webs I find. After that escapade with Veronica, I've found myself much less fond with arachnids, not that I was ever fond of them to begin with.

"The reviews are incredible, by the way," Jody laughs softly. "'I wouldn't stay here again if that dirty kitchenette was the only thing between me and the zombie horde. Don't ask how I know.'"

"Yeah, well, there's nothing here with value, so once we leave, I don't ever want to come back either," I reply, giving the kitchenette another once-over.

"I've found something," Kefilwe calls, and I quickly abandon my search to head to the bedroom. Steve meets me at the doorway, and we both look inside to see Kefilwe gesturing to a small pile of bottles in the corner of the room.

"Oh. Nice. Stockpile of medicines," Steve says, and Kefilwe nods.

"Retaborin, a very rare antifungal oil. It treats fungal infections caused by proximity to rotting flesh."

"That's... convenient," I say slowly, but Kefilwe doesn't seem to catch my suspicion.

"This will help relieve much suffering. Five, please pack it up."

I silently obey, putting as many bottles as I can into one of the pockets in my backpack. This doesn't feel like a trap, per se, but it just seems odd that the Riders somehow managed to get a stockpile of such a rare find, as Kefilwe said. How would a bunch of anarchists manage to get ahold of this? They'd have to have some sort of connection to somebody, right?

But they don't seem to like anyone who's not a part of them. I mean, Darlene's boyfriend was a member and they still killed him. So how could they have...

"No solid info on the Riders' plans yet, but this is worth having." Jody pauses. "I was going to tell you to stop, but look... Okay. I've been a runner in the field. It's up to you."

Steve raises a brow. "What's the situation, Jody?"

"Six Riders are circling the town. I can get you to your next stop via the back streets. It's a theater."

"But?" Kefilwe says expectantly.

"But two things. First, the information said this isn't so much a cache as it is a place the Riders have been very interested to get into."

"If the Riders want to get in there, we may learn about their plans."

"Yeah, but it's a blind alley. If you get caught, you're stuck."

"Then we'd better not get caught," I pipe up. "We need to know what else the Riders are planning. We cannot have a repeat of the rave. Let's run."

I don't give them time to reply, instead running out of the B&B and heading towards the theater. I can faintly hear the sounds of motorcycles in the distance, and I do my best to be quick moving from one backway to another. The Riders will catch up on their bikes, but if they never see us, then they'll never know we're here.

But we still need to make sure we get to that theater first. If it's something the Riders want, then I want to take it from them. I want to make things as hard for them as I possibly can. I want to frustrate them, let them know that what they want is right in their grasp, and then snatched away.

That's the least I can do.

But their bikes are faster than I thought they were, and within minutes Steve, Bots and I are racing down one of the side streets, trying to get away from the oncoming Riders that will pass by in a moment.

We can make it. The theater's just ahead.

My heart sinks when Steve curses, and one of the Riders shouts and revs up his motorcycle engine.

"Damn it! I think that Rider might have spotted me. Any clues about how we get into this theater, Kefi?"

She squints on the poster on the door. "'The Inflexible Players, a theatrical experience you will not want be allowed to miss.' That sounds threatening."

"I remember them!" Steve exclaims, his eyes lighting up, seeming to forget about the danger right behind us. "That interactive theater where the audience are a part of the show. They locked the audience in."

I make a face. "That's terrifying."

"Steven, have you always been such a fan of the theater?" Kefilwe asks, and he chuckles.

"Well, I'm, uh, full of surprises, love."

"Evidently," She says, although her tone isn't as warm as it was a second ago. She grabs the door handle, and behind me I can hear the motorcycle engines growing louder. She opens the door, and I sigh in relief at the knowledge this place wasn't in the middle of a play on Day Zero.

"I see them!" A Rider shouts from behind us. His voice is deep and ragged. "There!"

"Inside, now!" I yell, all but shoving Kefilwe and Steve into the dark theater in front of us.

"But we don't know what might be in there," Steve argues. "We need to-"

"No time. It's either what might be in here, or the Last Riders." I step inside and slam the door shut. I hear the lock click into place, and I cringe.

Automatic locks... That's not good.

I immediately start fishing for my flashlight in my backpack, but it's hard since I have so much other things in the way thanks to our finds earlier.

"What is that?" Kefilwe asks, and I don't look up at her as I keep digging for my flashlight. It's not like I'd be able to see much anyway.

"What is what?"

"On the table. I can't see it very well, but I think it's a pile of... mouse masks."

I frown. "What?"

A bell tolls, and I stiffen, my shoulders tensing in preparation to attack.

"You are the mice and we are the cats," Someone says over the speaker phone. It sounds like a recording. "You are locked into the trap. Put on a mask and you may survive."

"Oh, I do not like this," I whisper. There's bang on the door, and I gasp embarrassingly loudly.

"Door's locked," A Rider from the outside growls, and the door handle jiggles. "Can't get inside."

He beats on the door again, and through the darkness I look at Steve.

"What is this?"

"Oh, God," He whispers, rubbing his face. "I-I do remember this show! It was infamous."

"For?"

"People had panic attacks and fainted. It was a combination of a theater and a puzzle room. You had to put on a mouse mask and navigate a maze while being pursued by-"

"Zombies dressed as cats?" Kefilwe finishes, glancing around when we hear loud moans nearby.

"People dressed as cats." He laughs. "They called it a deconstructed version of-"

"The musical Cats!" Jody finishes, and I jump, having forgotten she was there.

He nods. "And the only way to win was to find Mr. Mistoffelees. It was incredibly complicated, run by an AI system."

That gets my attention. AI system?

"Okay," Jody mutters, "so you're in a maze, and you need to avoid the cat zoms and figure out what the Riders wanted here."

Steve grabs a mask and tosses it to me. "Put this on. I think the AI responds better if you do. And if I'm right about where they are in the show-and I am-the whole cast is about to enter the maze for the Jellicle number."

"Jellicle Ball, Jellicle Ball," The computer says. "Jelli-kill Ball."

The zombie's moans become louder, and I slip on the mask just as Steve turns to me and Kefilwe.

"Follow me. Run!"

•

"Good work, Five!" Jody praises while I pant breathlessly. "I didn't think you'd get through that last twirl sequence untouched, but you dodged those pirouettes like a pro!"

"Thanks," I reply, still trying to catch my breath.

"Found anythin' worthwhile yet?" She asks, and Kefilwe sighs defeatedly while she continues to rummage.

"It's full of atmospheric props like letters from cats to other cats, but nothing useful."

The bell tolls again.

"Remember, three blind mice, you are the ghosts. The spirits of the mice eaten by these cats."

I squirm. That takes on a whole new meaning since the people that are dressed as cats have now turned zom.

"Ah," Steve hums. "It knows there are three of us because we're wearing the masks."

"Is it possible what the Riders wanted here was the AI itself?" Kefilwe asks. "It's certainly sophisticated. Although they do not seem interested in technology, it must have taken complex calculation to work out the formula for their rave drug."

Before any of us can reply, the computer's automated voice speaks.

"Only Mr. Mistoffelees will save you. You must find him."

Something starts up-mechanical whirring. It sounds a bit slow from lack of use. Music starts playing. On a platform stands someone in a cat mask. It's clearly a zombie, but it doesn't move. I don't think it can see very well with the mask, and its left leg is broken.

"That's Mistoffelees," Steve says, and I look at him, lifting my mask to give him a curious look. "I've seen Cats nine times. It's a masterpiece."

"If you say so," I mumble as I slip the mask back into place.

"If the door in is locked, followin' him might by your only way out," Jody says, and Kefilwe and I both look at Steve expectantly.

"Know how to get us up there?"

He nods. "Yeah. I looked at the plans of this production. I know how to get us backstage. There's a quick route for stage managers to use when people had panic attacks."

"Can we get the AI core along the way?" Kefilwe asks.

"We can, but it'll stop the lights and the AI working. We'll be alone in the dark with the zombie cats and no way to open the backdoor."

I glance around. The lights are already pretty dim. When they came on during the dance sequence, which was thankfully made of robots and not zombies, I barely noticed. Still, being in complete darkness when I can't find my flashlight doesn't sound ideal.

"I think I know how to get the door open if we time it right," She says, and he chuckles.

"Well, uh, musical theater always needs good timing, love. When "Memories" plays, the theater will go dark, which should give us our chance."

"Guys, you've got company behind you," Jody panics, and we all spin around. I blanch when I see their faces, their outfits.

"They're Last Riders." I take a step back, then another. "And judging by the smell and decay, they've been here awhile."

"They must have come in a few weeks ago and got locked in."

"And bitten."

"You cannot end up like them. Backstage, run!"

I spin on my heel, allowing Steve to lead us through the back corridors and easier paths that have less zombies than the main ones. Sweat drips from my nose onto a dark floor. Walls of black and purples and other dark colors makes everything feel shut in and cage-like.

Thankfully though, the sensation is the same for the zoms. They keep running into walls, as if they can't exactly tell where to turn. We lose them well before we make it backstage.

But when we get there, I don't head for the mainframe. I won't touch anything unless I'm told to. I can't risk breaking something in here.

"There is a computer core here labeled 'Alpha Zeon'," Kefilwe says. "Do you know anything about it, Jody?"

She gasps happily. "Oh, yeah, I do! I've got it on the list, actually. That's the one Veronica wanted us to look out for to help stabilize her. She mentioned she was having some small glitches or somethin'."

"Or something," I murmur with a grimace.

"It is incredibly valuable."

"When we take it out, all the lights will go off," Steve says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Then we'll need to climb up that dark ramp to reach the door, which you reckon you can open, Kefi?"

She nods. "We have JXQ-93 incendiary bombs."

"Yeah, but we can't be in the range when they blow. Even if we get them to the door, we need to shelter, and there's nowhere."

Her mask hides her face, but I can hear the almost smug smile in her voice when she speaks. "But JXQ-93s have a fifteen second timer. That is the same timing as the platform that raises and lowers to the exit. If I arm a bomb and throw it onto the platform, it will blow the door at the top."

There's a beat of silence.

"Oh. You, uh, listened when I talked about JXQ-93s."

"I always listen."

The bell tolls again, and I grit my teeth. I'm getting rather tired of hearing it.

"Memories... memories," The computer says.

"Guys, we're almost at blackout time," Jody says as I pull one of the bombs from my backpack and hand it to Kefilwe. "Five, get ready to pull that core."

I hesitate, but obey. "Ready."

"Lobatse, you ready to throw that bomb?"

"Ready."

"Memories... memories... I remember," The computer says, and Kefilwe pulls her arm back and tosses the bomb onto the platform. Steve cheers as the platform starts to rise while she counts down under her breath.

"Five, you need to pull that power cord out to free the core in three, two, one-"

I pull hard, the sound of an explosion overheard causing my ears to ring as darkness floods my vision.

"We've got the core!" Steve yells, and despite the pain his voice causes I reach out to search for him. "We need to get to that door before any of the zombies spot us. Up the ramps. Go!"

•

I hiss in pain, my eyes burning as the darkness is burned away by the light.

"Team, report!" Jody demands.

"The lights have come back on," Kefilwe replies, blinking rapidly. "There must have been a lighting backup."

"Ugh, this thing is heavy," I grunt, and immediately Steve grabs one end to help ease the weight off me. I give him a small nod in thanks, but his help doesn't help me speed up by much. I've still got quite a few bombs and meds in my backpack. That and gravity is weighing me down, keeping me slow as I try to get up the last bit of the ramp.

Why the hell is this thing so steep?

Kefilwe looks back, her eyes growing wide. "The zombies are gaining on us. We're not going to make it to the door."

"Yes, we are," Steve replies sharply. "We have Retaborin. You told me it was developed as an industrial lubricant before they found out it had antifungal properties." He unzips one of my backpack pockets and pulls out a bottle, then takes the core and shoves the medicine into my hands. "Squirt it down the ramp!"

I spin, uncapping the bottle and shaking it to get the slick medicine to come out. Green liquid plops to the floor, sliding down the ramp. The zombies scramble after us, but as soon as they reach the medicine-slicked floor, they slide right back down with ragged snarls.

I laugh, but it dies in my throat, replaced by a grunt as I grab ahold of the core again to help Steve get up that last bit and out the door. Well, what's left of the door.

I let out a sigh of relief when we get outside, ripping off my mouse mask. "I am never going to the theater ever again."

"Yeah, that was close," Jody says, letting out a breath. "You're okay though. The theater was built into the hill and you've come out nowhere near the entrance. Those Riders that were outside-if they find a way around here, all they'll find is an angry, furry, zombie mess."

"I can't believe you remembered about Retaborin," Kefilwe says as she and Steve remove their masks. He smiles a bit sheepishly.

"I... don't think I've forgotten a single thing you've said to me. I do understand. We can't be like zombie cats, keeping on doing the same thing, even though the reason it died a long time ago."

I frown. What?

She nods somberly. "While it was alive, it was good."

"That's a-a metaphor, though, isn't it? For our relationship, which was good. Rather than the show, which was clearly terrible."

My jaw drops. "Wait. Was?"

They ignore me, and Kefilwe again nods, although this time looking slightly exasperated. "Yes, Steven. A metaphor."

"You guys broke up?!" I screech, and the side eye I get from them both makes me flinch.

"You didn't know?" Jody asks.

"No, I didn't know! I thought they were having a fight!"

"Don't you watch Phil and Zoe's show?"

I shrug. "Only sometimes, if Phil reminds me. What does that have to do with anything?"

Her only answer is a sigh.

"In any case, something good has come from it today. We have taken supplies from the Riders, and we have this core," Kefilwe says. "When Veronica has more processing power, she will be closer to finding a solution to the V-Types, too."

"Yeah," Jody agrees. "And then we'll be the cats and they'll be the mice!"

A beat of silence passes.

"No?"

"No," Kefilwe says.

"No" I add, and Steve laughs.

"Definitely not. Good effort though. Maybe you can find a pun that rhymes with Jellicle."

Kefilwe chuckles before looking at me. "Five, let's get this core home."

A/N: Here you go, guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please be sure to vote and comment! Thank you and have a blessed day!