Passing through the portal was like walking through a warm summer rain. He felt a sort of electric tingle trickling over his skin, which was almost refreshing in its way.

  But it was also strange and disorienting. An odd feeling of vertigo washed over him as he stepped over the threshold; up was down, down was up, and then his body suddenly felt weightless, as though he had just reached the precipice of a roller coaster. He gasped.

  But then it was over, and he was through the portal, falling to his knees in some kind of dirty, darkened tunnel. Virge and Wayman, evidently accustomed to this means of travel, had kept to their feet, but both of them were wearing serious expressions, and Virge had pulled a gun out of his jacket. He swung the gun around, as though he expected to be attacked at any moment.

  "Where are we?" Virge asked.

  Wayman started moving the dials on his strange radio. "I don't know."

  "Try contacting Dr. Snowe."

  Wayman spent a few seconds trying to dial him in before finally shaking his head. "We're out of range. Either that, or the lab's broadcast tower is down." He gave Virge a worried look. "You don't think..."

  "No. I'm sure he managed to escape. How many close calls have we had?"

  "But you heard what was going on. If the Dread managed to break through--"

  "Later," he said firmly. "We'll worry about it later. Right now we have to figure out where the hell we are."

  "We're underground," Wayman said helpfully.

  "No kidding," Virge replied dryly. "You got a light?"

  Wayman dug a miniature flashlight out of his pocket and waved it around. Meanwhile Stu, though still a little disoriented, managed to climb to his feet. He considered making a break for it, but he had no idea where he was, and under the circumstances he thought it might be a good idea to stick with Virge and Wayman. He was still reeling from seeing the portal, and passing through it; that had been the strangest experience of his life. He desperately tried to come up with a rational explanation for all this, but failed. What did it all mean? What was he dealing with here? Were Virge and Wayman wizards or something? Did that mean that magic was real? Maybe it wasn't magic; maybe it was some kind of incredibly advanced technology that had been hidden from the public. Maybe Virge and Wayman were government agents after all.

  Or maybe this was all a dream. It certainly felt real enough; the tunnel they were in was dark and cold, and it smelled like earth. Virge and Wayman did not appear to be figments of his imagination. And Stu had broken out in a cold sweat, dampening his t-shirt; that was a realistic touch. Just to be sure, though, he pinched himself. It hurt.

  Not a dream, then. But if this was all real...

  He turned to Virge and Wayman. "What just happened? Where are we?"

  "That's what we're trying to figure out," Wayman said, still waving the flashlight around. "This looks like a subway tunnel." He frowned. "I don't think we're in Lon Halos."

  "What the hell is a Lon Halos?" Stu asked. He was losing patience with these two; they seemed determined not to tell him anything useful.

  "It's a city," Wayman said. "We're taking you there."

  "Why?"

  "Because Dr. Snowe needs you."

  He shook his head, frustrated. "I don't understand any of this. Can't you just explain it all to me so that I can--"

  "Quiet," Virge broke in. "I heard something."

  They all stopped to listen for a moment. Stu couldn't hear a thing -- the subway tunnel was eerily quiet -- but Virge was on high alert. "Let's get out of here," he whispered. "No more talking. We don't want to attract attention to ourselves."

  "Why not?" Stu demanded. But Virge ignored him. It was maddening -- he had just experienced the most amazing thing, something that had overturned everything that he had thought he had known about the world, and these two were refusing to give him any kind of explanation.

  So they started off down the tunnel, with Wayman in the lead with the flashlight, Stu behind him, and Virge bringing up the rear, his gun held at the ready. Stu wanted to ask them more questions, but Virge had told him to shut up, and the man was clearly on edge, waving that gun around, so he forced himself to remain quiet.

  This subway was obviously not being used; some of the walls had begun to cave in and some sections were flooded. Stu guessed they were underneath some kind of big city, because this tunnel system appeared vast, but he couldn't begin to guess which one. Were they in New York? Chicago? Stu had been to Chicago a few times, but he had never taken the subway, and he had certainly never tried hiking down an abandoned tunnel. In any case, there were no clues to be found here.

  They had been walking for about twenty minutes when Wayman's strange radio suddenly started making that unusual whistling sound again. "That could be Dr. Snowe," he said excitedly. He tried fiddling with the knobs and dials, but the whistling continued, echoing down the empty expanse of tunnel. He frowned at the device. "I can't tune it in," he complained, trying to shine his flashlight at it. "Looks like I might be able to get a better signal over here..."

  He started following the signal, moving deeper into the darkness. "Hey," Virge warned. "Don't get too far ahead of--"

  He was interrupted by a low, animalistic snarl...and then, to Stu's surprise, a dark figure suddenly burst out of the shadows, from around a corner, seizing Wayman by the shoulders. Wayman swore and tried to smash his attacker's head with the big radio-thing he was holding, but the man shrugged it off, latching on to him, biting and clawing. Wayman dropped the flashlight he had been holding, causing its beam to spin around crazily. The two figures were suddenly enveloped by darkness, though Stu could still hear the struggling and the shouting.

  While Stu stood there dumbly, too surprised to do anything, Virge reacted instantly, rushing forward and pulling Wayman's attacker off him. It was too dark for Stu to make out much of what was going on, but he heard a snarl, and a thump, and then two incredibly loud gunshots, which echoed explosively through the tunnel.

  What the hell had just happened? The flashlight had landed near him; he picked it up and directed the beam towards Virge, Wayman, and the mysterious assailant.

  His eyes went wide.

  Virge was standing over a dead man, slumped up against the wall of the tunnel. He had evidently shot him in the head, splattering a horrifying mess of blood and brains over the scene. Wayman, meanwhile, was now taking off his jacket to better examine his neck and shoulder, which appeared to be bleeding.

  One look at the gore was enough for Stu. He stumbled away from the scene, shocked by what had just happened. "You...you shot him," he stammered. "You killed him."

  "You all right, Wayman?" Virge asked, ignoring Stu's accusations.

  "No," Wayman muttered. He had gone pale. "The bastard bit me."

  Virge closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "Shit."

  Wayman picked up the radio and examined it. "Wrecked the transceiver, too. I'm sorry, Virge. I should've been more careful."

  "Not your fault," he said stiffly. And then, more kindly, he asked, "Does it hurt?"

  "Stings a bit." He lowered his eyes. "I guess that's it for me, huh?"

  "It'll be a few hours before you show any symptoms."

  He shook his head. "I don't want it to get that far." He looked up at Virge, his eyes sad. "I hate to ask you this, but..."

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  "I understand. It was nice working with you, Wayman."

  "Likewise." He brightened. "Hey, at least we got him here, right? All that's left now is to take him back to Dr. Snowe. If anything was worth dying for..."

  "Yeah."

  Stu, of course, had no idea what was going on -- why were the two of them talking like this? Who was that strange man who had attacked them?

  Wayman nodded at Virge. Then he got down on his knees, facing away from him. "So long, Virge," he said.

  "So long, Wayman." He raised his gun.

  Stu, suddenly realizing what was about to happen, turned away just in time to avoid seeing it unfold. A single shot ran out, and Wayman's body slumped forward into the dirt.

  "Shit," Virge grumbled. "Shit, shit."

  Stu was apalled. "You...you..."

  "Had to do it," Virge said. The gun was still smoking; Stu could smell it. "He would've turned in a few hours, and I would've had to shoot him anyway." He shook his head sadly. "Better this way."

  "Turned?" Stu asked hesitantly. "Turned into what?"

  "Zombie."

  "A zombie?" Stu stared at the man. Was he crazy? "Zombies...zombies aren't real."

  Virge glanced at him. "Wrong." He gestured to the body of the man who had attacked Wayman. "Take a look."

  Stu didn't want to look, but he did anyway, driven by a morbid curiosity and a desperate desire to better understand the crazy situation he was in. Slowly, he focused the flashlight beam on Wayman's dead attacker.

  Virge had practically blown his head off; that was evident enough. Examining the body more closely, though, he realized that the man's skin was pale and necrotic, full of bleeding ulcers and open wounds, including a long gash on his forearm that looked like it had cut all the way to the bone. It was a horrible, life-threatening injury, and he was sure that neither Virge nor Wayman had caused it.

  The man was dressed in ragged, rotted clothing, and his feet were bare. Moving the flashlight down a little further, he saw that the man was barefoot, but that one of his feet was almost completely denuded of flesh. The man's entire body, in fact, was rotten, putrid, corpse-like. How could he have been walking around like that? How could he have attacked Wayman in this state?

  Was this thing really a zombie? Once again, Stu found himself reeling, as everything he had thought he had known about the world suddenly came crashing down around his ears. "But that's...zombies aren't real."

  Virge snorted. "That's what we thought. We found out different, ten years ago."

  "Ten years ago?"

  "That's when the outbreak happened." He started off down the tunnel. "No more talking until we get out of here. This place rots."

  Stu had never heard that expression before, but he could guess what it meant -- it was very likely there were more zombies down here. Terrified, and not wanting to end up like poor Wayman, he shut his mouth and obediently followed Virge through the tunnel.

  They walked for what seemed like hours. Stu wasn't in the best of shape, and his legs were already wobbly -- his nerves were just about shot -- which meant he quickly fell behind. Virge, who seemed to have boundless energy, had to stop a few times to allow him to catch up.

  He took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. He had been kidnapped, thrown through some kind of reality-bending portal, and witnessed a zombie attack and some kind of mercy killing, all within the last hour or so. It was the most incredible, not to mention horrific, situation he had ever found himself in. Whatever he was dealing with here, it was life or death, and he couldn't afford to let himself be carried away by fear. He had to face up to this.

  They encountered no more zombies, but every once in a while Stu heard a moaning, rattling, or snarling sound in the distance, floating out of some darkened side tunnel. The sounds terrified him, but he steeled himself and carried on, hyper-alert. He wished he had some kind of weapon.

  Finally, after walking through at least a mile of tunnels, they arrived at a deserted subway platform. This was another horror show -- the walls here were spattered with blood, and there were decayed corpses lying around out in the open. There was dirt and garbage everywhere.

  There were a couple of advertisements hanging up on the walls. Thinking these might give him a clue as to which city they were in, Stu examined these, but the ads were for strange products he had never heard of -- what the hell was a dynamo engine? -- and there was nothing on them to indicate which city they might be in. There were some signs hanging above the exits and entrances, too, but Stu didn't recognize the street names or subway stops or anything else. Where the hell were they?

  But there was no time to study these things further -- Virge was already headed for the exit. A set of stairs leading back up to the surface, illuminated by some weak, hazy sunlight, was just ahead of them, further up the platform. Anxious to leave this place, Stu picked up the pace, catching up to Virge, but before he had gone more than a few feet, the man put an arm out to stop him.

  "Something's wrong," he murmured.

  "What?" Stu asked.

  Virge didn't respond to that, but continued looking around, squinting into the gloom. Then, suddenly, he pushed Stu back and shouted, "Look out!"

  A shadowy figure, moving so quickly that it was practically a blur, suddenly darted between them. Stu stumbled back, while Virge opened fire, but the thing -- whatever it was -- avoided the bullets and slammed into Virge, knocking him off his feet and sending his gun flying off into the darkness. The shadowy shape fell upon Virge, but he managed to kick it off and scramble to his feet. The two of them -- Virge and the monster -- began circling one another warily, and Stu finally got a good look at the thing.

  It was shaped like a man, but it was big, nearly seven feet tall, and its entire body -- even its face -- was covered with scales, which were constantly absorbing or redirecting light and which made it seem to blend into whatever background it was standing against. Its hands were clawed, and its legs resembled the back legs of a dog.

  Stu, terrified, started backing away slowly. "What is it?" he asked Virge.

  "Mutate," he said, his eyes fixed on the thing.

  "Mutate?"

  "A kind of irregular. This one's got some kind of camouflage." But that was all the explanation he was able to provide, because the monster was leaping for him again, trying to slash his face off with its long, knife-like claws. Virge dodged its swings, ducked beneath it, and hammered a punch into its midsection, which staggered it. It kept to its feet, however. It emitted a low growl and used it scales to make itself all but invisible; it then darted to one side, running up a wall, disappearing into the dim of the tunnel. Stu lost sight of it. He looked around, frantic...

  ...And saw a hint of movement on the ceiling, just above Virge. "Heads up!" he shouted.

  Virge looked up, just in time to see the "mutate" detach itself and land on him. It came down claws-first, slashing into Virge's neck and chest. The big man winced, but managed to seize the creature by the neck and slam it down into the floor. He held it there, keeping it pinned down while it struggled to free itself, its arms and legs scratching wildly. Virge then proceeded to bash the the thing's face in with his bare fist.

  After a few moments it stopped moving, and Virge, having reduced the monster's face to a bloody pulp and looking quite disgusted with the whole business, released it.

  "Are you all right?" Stu asked, from some distance away. He was a little reluctant to approach the thing, even if it was dead.

  Virge touched his neck, which was bleeding freely. "This could be a problem," he said. "Oh, shit." And he fell to his knees.

  Stu went to his side. The monster had cut deeply into the side of his neck, and blood was practically squirting out of it, presumably out of some major artery. Virge was a tough guy, maybe even superhumanly tough, but this looked to Stu like a mortal wound. Virge closed his eyes and touched his neck, and for a moment the bleeding stopped, and to Stu's amazement, the wound even started to sew itself closed. But then his hand fell away. "Ah, damn," he muttered. "Poison."

  "Poison?"

  "Fucking mutates. It's always something with them." He started to fall backwards; Stu caught him and eased him down. "I can heal the injuries, but I can't do anything about the poison. I didn't get that far with the ICON."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I'll be dead in a minute. Listen to me. Listen very carefully. You have to get to Lon Halos. You have to find Dr. Snowe. You're the key to this whole thing."

  "Where's Lon Halos? Who's Dr. Snowe? I don't know what's going on here." He hissed through his teeth. "I just want to go home."

  "Dr. Snowe can send you home," he said. His voice was growing weak. "If his equipment's still functioning, anyway. If the Dread hasn't got to him."

  None of this was all that helpful. "Virge..."

  "But you'll never make it on your own. Here." He reached up and touched Stu's forehead with two fingers. The moment they made contact, Stu saw a flash of light, like a camera flash, that burned his retinas, and for a second he felt dizzy. "What...what was that? What did you do to me?"

  "Get to Lon Halos. If you don't..." He trailed off, his arm slumping to his side, his body going slack.

  "Virge? Virge!" He shouted at the man, but he didn't respond. Reluctantly, Stu touched his wrist, feeling for a pulse, but there was nothing there. He was dead.

  Stu had to take another deep breath to steady himself. He was crouched on the filthy floor of a darkened subway platform in some unknown city. Both of his kidnappers were now dead, killed by monstrous things that shouldn't even exist. He had seen more horrors in the last few hours than he had in his entire life.

  He suddenly felt very alone, very vulnerable, very exposed. What else might be lurking in these tunnels? There were almost certainly more zombies down here, and maybe more of these strange "mutate" things as well.

  He slowly got to his feet. He studied Virge's body for a moment, then looked at the monster, the mutate, which fortunately appeared to be dead; it wasn't even twitching. Now that its camouflage scales were no longer functioning, he saw that it had a vaguely lizard-like appearance. Had it been a human once, like the zombies, or was it a completely different kind of creature?

  The light -- that little bit of illumination coming from the top of the stairs at the other end of the subway platform -- beckoned him. He walked to it, his sneakers squeaking softly over the tiled floor, and climbed the steps, one by one, up to the surface.

  A moment later, he found himself standing on a deserted street, in what had obviously been a big and busy city at one point -- huge skyscrapers rose up on either side of him. But this was a city of the dead. The buildings were crumbling, the broken-up streets were full of burned-out cars, and there were weeds growing up all over the place. He saw corpses, here and there -- mutilated, blood-spattered wrecks. He saw shopping carts, piles of garbage, and, about fifty yards away, sandbags that someone must have been trying to use as a barricade. The scene was lit by a blood-red sunset.

  And there were zombies, shuffling around in the streets -- their jaws hanging off their faces, their eyeballs falling out, their limbs rotting away. There were dozens of them, hundreds of them. They filled the streets.

  There could be no doubt about it. This was a real-life zombie apocalypse, and he was right in the middle of it.

  Afraid of being seen by the undead hordes, he retreated back into the darkness of the subway.