I scan the crowd, looking for Jon. He’s been quiet lately. I can tell something’s been bothering him, but whenever I ask, he acts like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about and that he’s fine. On top of making sure everything was ready for the race, he also had a busy tutoring schedule and a long paper to write. I don’t know, though. I think something else is up. Spotting James, Kelly, and Reese on the other side of the street, I wave them over. James is wearing a football jersey, while Kelly and Reese are dressed like—pirates?

“Have you guys seen Jon yet?” I ask. “I know he’s here.”

“What about over there?” Kelly says, pointing. “I see pink.”

I look in that direction and see the crowd, all right. A bunch of sorority girls in pink Parishioner T-shirts.

Wonderful. My boyfriend and his groupies.

We head in that direction. I spot the local news station van with a satellite dish mounted to the roof, parked near the giant bronze Explorer statue in the middle of the courtyard. Holding a white shirt and tie, Jon is talking to the female reporter, but they’re not on the air. The reporter must be waiting to go live with the station.

As we get closer, Jon spots us. He signs, Hello, beautiful.

Okay, maybe it is the race he’s been worried about. I sign back, Hello, handsome.

The reporter touches her earpiece, unaware that her interview subject is having a conversation in sign language. “We’re on right after the commercial. Are you ready?”

“Ready when you are.”

A couple of girls ask him to come over and sign their shirts, but he tells them he’s going live in a minute and can’t right now. I’m not sure how he always stays so patient. It’s not uncommon for people to approach him and ask him to sign their shirts. I know it must get old, but I’ve never heard him complain. When I’ve asked him about it, he just gives me one of those million-dollar smiles and says he appreciates their support.

He looks over at me and signs, After the race is over, want to go back to my place and have sex?

I nearly choke. Jon! I sign back, finger spelling his name with emphasis. I glance at the others gathered around to watch the broadcast, but no one is reacting. Other people can sign too, you know.

He shrugs. You look hot and you’re my girlfriend. How is the fact that we’re going to have sex later surprising? Shouldn’t that be obvious? Even from fifteen feet away, I can see that gleam in his eye.

You’re such a guy.

The cameraman is indicating they’re about to go live, so Jon turns his attention back to the reporter, an attractive Asian woman in a navy blue wool coat.

After the lead-in, she puts the microphone in his face and asks him to explain how the race works. If I were him, I’d be stammering and stumbling over my words, but Jon is a natural.

“All the runners start out with three humanity flags hooked to their belts. The ten kilometer obstacle course is littered with hordes of zombies. The goal for the runners is to get across the finish line with at least one flag still attached. If so, they’re still human. If not, they’ve been infected. And then, of course, there are the zombies. Their goal is to infect people.”

“So who are the zombies?”

“Anyone who wanted to be one,” he says, laughing. “We maxed out on zombies well before the human runner list was filled.”

“And why is that, do you think?”

He shrugs. “People are excited to dress up and unleash their inner monsters, I guess. ”

“So how do these zombies infect people?” she asks.

“We’ve got three types of zombies,” he says, holding up three fingers. “Shamblers are the fastest. They can run after you for about ten feet. The walkers aren’t allowed to run, but they can go more than ten feet. And then there are the crawlers. They can be the most dangerous because you don’t know where they’re hiding.”

“Sounds frightening. Okay, so tell us a little bit about the charity that the race benefits.”

Jon’s tone shifts from playful to serious. He tells the reporter that the money will go to fund a hospice and home care charity helping terminally ill cancer patients and their children. She listens attentively, nodding occasionally. “It’s difficult for kids to deal with the fact that a parent is dying, and this group is there to help them.”

“How did you get involved in the organization?”

Jon hesitates. “They helped me when my mother died.”

* * *

Jon


We’re standing near the front of the stadium, along with about a thousand other runners and two or three times that number of spectators.

I’m not sure how long I’ll last wearing this white shirt and tie, because I’m already getting hot. I’ll probably end up taking it off and leaving it on a fence somewhere before the race is over.

“What are our chances?” Ivy asks, fluffing up her tutu.

I’m glad Dani and Cassidy talked her into wearing a costume. She looks awesome.

“If you’re fast, I’d say our chances are good.”

“Me? So I’m the make-or-break part of this team? What if you’re the one who’s not fast enough?” She double-checks that her humanity flags are evenly spaced around her waist.

“If one of us gets infected, the rest of us have to leave them,” James says. “Deal? If this were real, that’s what we’d do.”

“I don’t plan on having any of my flags taken, though,” Dani says, “so there’s nothing to worry about there.”

Cassidy pushes her way through the crowd. “If one of us gets attacked by zombies, the others better come help.”

“Geez, C,” Ivy says. “Way to get back here on time.”

Cassidy looks up at the huge digital display near the starting line, grabs her number and puts it on. “There’s plenty of time. We’ve got a whole two minutes.”

“Where’s Touch?” Ivy asks.

My stomach tightens as I look around for him. It killed me to see Ivy pushing him around campus—a visual reminder that someone else would be better for her. A clean-cut guy who comes from a nice family. I met Touch my freshman year on the football team and we’ve partied together a few times, so I know what I’m talking about. A guy like him has way more to offer her than I do.

“Yeah, I ran into him back there.” Cassidy adjusts the entry number pinned to her sleeve. “For a minute, I thought he was planning to run in the race, but it turns out he just came to watch. He’ll be near the halfway point to cheer us on.”

The entry gun sounds and the race begins.

The first quarter mile is just running over a wide gravel road. Kelly and Reese take off ahead of us. So much for teamwork. James, Cassidy, and Dani are in front of us and Ivy and I are in the back. We haven’t seen any zombies or gone over any obstacles yet. We’re just loosening our muscles and establishing our pace. The first part is designed to let the cluster of runners thin out as the faster ones outpace the slower ones.

The course leads us into a trail through the woods, so we have to run single file. We hear the first zombie before we see it. Or rather, we hear other people who are seeing it—the group of frat guys in front of us screams like a bunch of little girls.

“Oh shit,” Dani says over her shoulder. “This is it, you guys.”

“Bring it on.” Ivy reaches back and I give her a low five.

“I’m with you, babe,” I tell her. “Remember, guys, it could be an individual or a whole horde, and watch the bushes for crawlers.”

“So let me get this straight,” James says. “Even though you helped organize this run, you didn’t get any advance knowledge of where the zombies are being stationed? Didn’t you at least see a map with the hiding places marked?”

“Nope.”

“You’re useless, Priestly. You know that?”

Some of James’s insults are funny and some aren’t. This one falls into the second category.

A zombie dressed in a ragged suit and tie lumbers out in front of us. Dani sprints ahead and gets past him. James shrieks like a little girl. Cassidy doubles over with laughter and a walker emerging from the bushes yanks her flag.

“Hey!”

Now it’s James’s turn to laugh at her. In fact, he’s still laughing when Cassidy catches up to him.

“That totally should’ve been you, James. Not me.”

He blows her a smart-ass kiss. “It’s called karma and sometimes it’s a bitch.”

She punches him in the arm. “Anyone who screams like that deserves to have his flag yanked.” She quickens her pace to catch up to Dani.

James glances at me, a huge grin on his face. I totally know what he’s thinking.

There’s a large puddle of muddy water up ahead. We can’t tell how deep it is. As everyone is strategizing how to get through it, something flashes in my peripheral vision.

“Watch out. Zombie invasion. Nine o’clock.”

Ivy looks to the left and barely misses getting her humanity flag taken. I start to yell something, but then a twig snaps to my right. Before I can move, a crawler in a clown suit grabs one of my flags. I jump away, but in the process my foot slips and I fall to my knees. Five more clown zombies, walkers this time, close in on me.

“Jon,” Ivy screams, circling back. “I’ll divert them. Get up and run.”

She waves her arms at them like she’s directing airplane traffic at the airport. “Over here. Over here. Oh my God, I hate clowns. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

I have no idea if the zombies have been instructed to react that way, but it seems to work. The ones bearing down on me are now heading toward her. I get up and skirt around them and soon we’re past the muddy water and back on the trail.