The van shot forward, Lawrence’s hands gripped tightly on the wheel. Thomas turned and looked out the
back windows—but there was nothing. Somehow, the person on top of the van was hanging on.
Just as Thomas spun back around, a face started creeping down the front windshield, staring at them
upside down. It was a woman, her hair whipping in the wind as Lawrence sent the van tearing down the
alleyway at breakneck speed. The woman’s eyes met Thomas’s, and then she smiled, showing a set of
surprisingly perfect teeth.
“What’s she holding on to?” Thomas yelled.
Lawrence answered, his voice strained. “Who knows. But she can’t last long.”
The woman’s eyes stayed locked on Thomas, but she had freed one of her hands and balled it into a
fist, then started pounding the window. Thump, thump, thump. Her smile stayed wide, her teeth almost
glistening in the lamplight.
“Would you please get rid of her?” Brenda shouted.
“Fine.” Lawrence slammed on the brakes.
The woman flew into the air, shooting forward like a launched grenade, her arms windmilling and her
legs splayed, until she crashed to the ground. Thomas winced and squeezed his eyes shut, then strained to
get a look at her. Shockingly, she was already moving, shakily getting to her feet. She regained her
balance, then turned slowly toward them, the headlights from the van brightly illuminating every inch of
her.She was no longer smiling, not at all. Instead her lips had curled into a fierce snarl; a big welt
reddened the side of her face. Her eyes bore into Thomas once more, and he shivered.
Lawrence gunned the engine, and the Crank looked like she was going to hurl herself in front of the
vehicle, as if she could somehow stop it, but at the last second she pulled back and watched them pass.
Thomas couldn’t take his eyes off her, and in his last glimpse, her face melted into a frown and her eyes
cleared, as if she’d just realized what she’d done. As if there was something left of the person she used to
be.
And seeing that made it worse for Thomas. “She was like a mix of sane and not sane.”
“Just be glad she was the only one,” Lawrence muttered.
Brenda squeezed Thomas’s arm. “It’s hard to look at. I know how it felt for you and Minho to see
what’d happened to Newt.”
Thomas didn’t answer, but he put his hand on top of hers.
They reached the end of the alley, and Lawrence swerved to the right onto a bigger street. Small groups
of people dotted the area up ahead. A few were struggling as if they were fighting, but most were digging
through trash or eating things Thomas couldn’t quite make out. Several haunted, ghostly faces just stood
and stared at them with dead eyes as they drove by.
No one in the van said anything, as if they were afraid that speaking would somehow alert the Cranks
outside.
“I can’t believe it happened so fast,” Brenda finally said. “You think they were somehow planning to
take over Denver? Could they really organize something like that?”
“Hard to know,” Lawrence replied. “There were signs. Locals disappearing, reps from the government
disappearing, more and more infecteds being discovered. But it looks like a huge number of them suckers
hid out, waiting for the right time to make their move.”
“Yeah,” Brenda said. “It seems like it was a matter of Cranks finally outnumbering healthy people.
Once the balance tipped, it tipped all the way over.”
“Who cares how it happened,” Lawrence said. “The only thing that matters is how it is. Look around
us. The place is a nightmare now.” He slowed down to make a tight turn into a long alley. “Almost there.
We need to be more careful now.” He turned off the headlights, then picked up speed again.
As they drove, it became darker and darker, until Thomas couldn’t see anything more than large,
formless shadows that he kept imagining would suddenly leap out in front of them. “Maybe you shouldn’t
drive so fast.”
“We’ll be fine,” the man replied. “I’ve driven this route a thousand times. I know it like the back of my
—”
Thomas flew forward and was snapped back by the seat belt. They’d run over something, and it was
caught beneath the van—metal, from the sound of it. The van bounced a couple of times, then came to a
stop.
“What was that?” Brenda whispered.
“I don’t know,” Lawrence responded in an even quieter voice. “Probably a trash can or something.
Scared the crap out of me.”
He inched forward and a loud, scraping screech filled the air. Then came a thump and another crash
and everything fell silent.
“Got her loose,” Lawrence murmured, not bothering to hide his relief. He continued, but slowed to a
fraction of his earlier speed.
“Maybe you should turn the lights back on?” Thomas suggested, amazed at how fast his heart was
beating. “I can’t see a thing out there.”
“Yeah,” Brenda added. “I’m pretty sure anyone out there heard that racket anyway.”
“I guess so.” Lawrence turned them on.
The headlights illuminated the entire alley in a spray of bluish-white light that, compared to the
previous darkness, seemed brighter than the sun. Thomas squinted at the glare, then opened his eyes fully
and a bloom of horror rose up in him. About twenty feet in front of them, at least thirty people had
emerged and now stood packed together, completely blocking the road.
Their faces were pale and haggard, scratched and bruised. Ripped, filthy clothes hung from their
bodies. They stood there, every one of them looking into the bright lights as if they weren’t fazed in the
least. They were like standing corpses, raised from the dead.
Thomas shivered from the chill that iced his body.
The crowd started to part. They moved in sync, and a large space cleared in the middle as they backed
to the sides of the alley. Then one of them waved an arm, gesturing that the van should go ahead and drive
past.
“These are some awfully polite Cranks,” Lawrence whispered.
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