That was why the Night Watch was interested in us.

They knew the secret history of how worms and peeps had always appeared together and had a grip on modern science as well. Cal said they’d known before anyone else that this apocalypse was coming. They had cures and treatments for turning maniacs into soldiers to fight the enemy. They had cool worm-killing swords.

But we could do something they couldn’t.

We could sing the worms up. We could bring them out of hiding and to the surface, which made them a lot easier to destroy…

After we’d been talking for a while, Min handed me a note. Her handwriting was still a mess, but I could understand it. More or less.

“So, Moz, we have to leave for a while,” I said. “Just for a day or so. We’ll be back before you’re out of bed.”

“Where?” he croaked.

My fingers folded the note up small. “Manhattan.”

“Are you kidding?” Zahler said. “It’s dangerous back there! And I promised my mom I’d stay right here!”

I nodded. Local phones were mostly still working, so we knew that my mom was safe in the Hamptons, Elvis at her side, and that Zahler’s parents were at a Guard camp in Connecticut. Minerva’s family had been scooped up by the Night Watch, who’d wanted to check and see if they also carried her weird monster-calling strain of the disease. But Moz’s parents, like most New Yorkers, were holding out in their building. And they’d said things looked ugly down on the street.

“Sorry, Zahler. But there’s someone the Night Watch wants us to meet.”

“Can’t this someone come out to Jersey?” he asked.

I crumpled the note and shrugged. “Apparently not.”

“Well, screw that!” Zahler said. “New York is one big Maniac City! They can’t make us go, can they?”

“Pearl,” Alana Ray said. “Does it say what they want to talk about?”

“Only that maybe we can help. What happened that night—we might be able to use it to save people.” I turned to each of them as I spoke, pushing my glasses up my nose, like this was a rehearsal and I wanted to get them to stop tuning up and playing riffs and listen to me. “These Night Watch guys are the only people in the world who aren’t clueless about what’s going on. When that thing turned up at our gig, they were the ones who stopped it from killing everybody, remember? It won’t hurt us to listen to them.”

“It’s not the listening that I’m—”

“I am sorry to interrupt, Zahler,” Alana Ray said, tapping her forehead twice, a shiver moving across her. “But I agree with Pearl. We called that creature up; we were responsible.”

“We didn’t know it was going to happen!” Zahler cried.

“Whether that is true or not…” Alana Ray’s eyes dropped to the floor, as if she saw something there. “It would be unethical not to help if we can.”

I looked at the others. Minerva nodded silently, trying to catch my eye. Moz crooked one thumb into the air, and Zahler let out a defeated sigh.

28. DOCTOR

— ZAHLER-

There was a checkpoint at the Jersey end of the Holland Tunnel, swarming with New York cops and Guardsmen and guys in khaki toting machine guns. It didn’t look to me like they were letting anyone through.

I figured this was the end of the trip—too bad, we’d tried—and that was fine by me. But then Lace zipped down her window, flashed a badge, and said, “Homeland Security.”

The unshaven Guardsman stared at the badge, his eyes red. He looked like he’d been awake for days, like he’d seen some scary shit, and like he thought we were crazy.

But he waved us through.

“Homeland Security?” I asked. “Are you guys, like, really Homeland Security? Some sort of paranormal branch?”

“Please.” Lace snorted. “Those guys can’t even handle natural disasters.”

Our convoy slid into the tunnel. We were in two big military-looking vehicles, a bunch of angels riding on the outside. I wondered what the cops thought of them. But I guessed everyone had seen much weirder stuff than black ninja suits and swords lately.

The tunnel was completely dark. Lace flicked on the headlights and drove straight down the middle, ignoring the lane dividers. As I watched the entrance disappear behind us through the back window, blackness swallowed everything except the red tinge of our taillights. It felt like sinking to the core of the earth.

“Aren’t there worms down here?” I asked.

“They’d never attack us here,” Lace said. “The whole Hudson River’s balanced over our heads. They breach this tunnel, and a million tons of water gush down on us and them.”

“Oh. Fawesome,” I said, reminding myself to shut up forever, as of now.

“Are they that smart?” Alana Ray asked.

Lace shrugged. “It’s all instinct. They evolved underground.”

I swallowed, thinking about how much earth there was below us. Room for all kinds of weird stuff to be brewing, and I’d never even thought about it.

“Okay, let’s get a few things straight about Dr. Prolix,” Cal said. “There’s a red line painted on the floor of her office. Whatever you do, don’t step across it.”

“A line on the floor?” Pearl said. “Doesn’t she like musicians?”

“She’s a carrier, like me,” he explained. “A really old one, so she’s got a few diseases that aren’t around much anymore. Typhus and stuff. Bubonic plague. If you get too close to her, we sort of have to… burn your clothes.”

I looked at the others, wondering if I’d really heard him say that. These angels or Night Watch guys or whatever were always saying stuff that was just messed up. Talking to Cal was like watching some psycho version of the History Channel that only showed the nasty parts—epidemics, massacres, and inquisitions, twenty-four/seven.

“Burn our clothes?” Minerva said. “But this is my last nice dress! Shouldn’t you put her in a glass bubble or something?”

Cal shook his head. “The whole house is set up for negative air-pressure prophylaxis, so the germs around Dr. Prolix can’t get to where you’ll be standing. Just don’t cross the line.”

“Bubonic plague?” Alana Ray repeated. A shudder traveled through her body, and she pressed her hands together. “Exactly how old is this woman?”

“Old,” he said.

In Manhattan, the streets were still alive.

Rats moved among leaking piles of garbage, stray cats sliding under smashed and motionless cars. You could see long ripples in the asphalt where the worms had passed, leaving gleaming stains of black water in the high sun. A few gaping holes showed where they’d burst through the surface. I wondered if anyone had been standing right there when they had…

According to Cal, it was all natural: they were hunters and we were their prey.

Nature can blow me.

“There are no bodies,” Alana Ray said.

“The peeps are cannibals,” Lace said. “And the worms are human-eaters.”

“Much neater than your usual epidemic,” Cal said.

A flash of disbelief went through me; this wasn’t really the Manhattan I’d grown up in. For a moment, it was all a big movie set—a giant, evil version of Disney World. There weren’t really any monsters under our feet, or crazy people hiding in the darkened buildings, and all our parents were actually back in the real Manhattan, wondering where we were.

But then we passed an empty school yard, the concrete ripped and torn from one end to the other. An ice-cream truck waited beside it—split almost in half, ripped open from underneath. It was bleeding white goo into the street, and the breeze carried a smell like spoiled milk and burnt sugar through the open windows.

A basketball sat abandoned in the middle of the playground. It stirred in the wind, and the realness of everything settled over me again.

Our convoy weaved slowly downtown, avoiding the worst streets and any people we spotted. Small groups were scurrying from place to place, carrying water and food and other stuff they must have looted from the stores. Smashed and gaping windows were everywhere.