The guy’s pudgy face became surprised. “Uh, sorry,” he said as he came forward, slower now. “I thought you were a doctor.” Stopping, he looked at the morgue tag, then at me, then at the doors to his right. The bottle of pop in his hand started to slip. “Ah…”

Angry, I strode back, my bare feet slapping. “Thanks,” I said, snatching the toe tag and jamming it into the lab coat pocket. Giving him a last glare, I turned and started back to the end of the hall to the elevator. Behind me, there was a nervous shifting of shoes.

“Hey, uh, weren’t you…” the guy said, then hesitated, thinking. I got three steps farther down the hall, and he shouted, “Hey!”

I didn’t turn around, but every muscle in me tensed as I smacked the up button. Almost instantly the doors slid apart, but I jerked to a halt when Shoe looked out at me, shocked. His eyes went behind me, and I wasn’t surprised when I heard the orderly shout, “Hey, you! Wait up!”

Shoe’s eyes were huge as he took in my lab coat and angry expression, and he rocked back, saying, “Uh, you okay?”

“Find me a broom closet, will you?” I muttered, and he darted out of the elevator.

I stiffened as the orderly came up behind me, huffing and puffing. I’d had enough. The stuff they did to dead people sucked. The last thing I wanted to do was answer this guy’s questions as to why I was up and walking.

“You got a problem?” I exclaimed as I turned to him. It had the desired effect, and he stopped short. Behind him, Shoe had found a tiny room with a wheeled bucket and mop. Jabbing my finger at the guy, I forced him to take a step backward.

“You’re alive…” the orderly stammered, his eyes going to my earrings, back where they belonged—in my ears.

“Not really, but you’re a thief,” I said tightly. “Take a timeout,” I added, shoving him back into the closet.

Arms pinwheeling, the guy fell back. Tripping on the bucket, he went down, staring up at me when I reached in and grabbed his keys off his belt. I rocked back out of the way, and Shoe yanked the door shut, almost catching the guy’s white sneaker.

“I’d guess that one,” Shoe said as he pointed out a key with MAINTENANCE on it, and I jammed it into the lock and gave it a twist.

“Hey!” came faintly from the closet, and I exhaled, feeling vastly better.

Shoe eyed the closet, laughing. “Make a new friend?” he asked, and I jumped when the orderly rattled the handle and pounded on the door.

Embarrassed, I felt my anger fizzle. “He stole my earrings,” I said, glad I hadn’t found them in his earlobes. Skulls and crossbones were harder to find than one might expect.

“Let me out!” came from the closet.

“Thanks,” I said to Shoe as we turned back to the elevator and I hit the up button.

“For what?”

Suddenly shy, I looked at Shoe, his hands in his pockets and his shirt casually untucked. “For coming to find me,” I said.

The elevator wasn’t back yet, and he glanced askance at me. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. I mean, you were dead.”

“I still am.”

He became even more nervous, shifting from foot to foot as he watched for the up light to glow. “Yeah,” he admitted, “but…you’re okay, too.”

I smiled, reaching out to mock punch his shoulder. “It’s just my body that’s dead.”

Shoe took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. “Ah, we need a quiet computer.”

From the closet came a soft, “Damn, no bars.”

“There’s a computer in the morgue,” I suggested, and Shoe looked down the empty hallway, his eyebrows high in speculation. I knew exactly what he was thinking: Why go somewhere else when the only person down here was locked in a closet?

“Sounds good to me,” Shoe said, and we started for the double doors, his shoes squeaking on the tile and my bare feet silent. “If the virus is on the computer, then I can connect to the server from here and upload the patch.”

My smile went wider. This was going to work. Finally, something was going my way.

“Guys?” the orderly called, starting to sound frantic. “Anyone? Hello?”

Shoe looked down as we entered the morgue. “Why did they take your shoes off?” he asked, and I suddenly became very conscious of my torn shirt, hidden under the coat.

“They have to put the toe tag somewhere,” I said, slowing to a stop and wondering if my shoes might be in one of the lockers against the wall. I wasn’t a connoisseur of morgues, but this one was nicer than the one I’d woken up dead in the first time. There was only the gurney I’d come in on, and I guessed this was a holding area where they kept the bodies before they were given…permanent shelving. That was probably in the room beyond the doors with BIOHAZARD stenciled on them. I wasn’t going to go look. I was just glad they dropped me off and left before putting me in a cold drawer. I hadn’t been looking forward to having to knock to be let out.

“This guy is a slob,” Shoe said as he headed for the scratched desk. With a single finger, he shoved the remains of the guy’s chicken dinner across the faded fake-wood desktop and sat in the rolling chair. “Look, he’s got grease all over the keyboard,” Shoe said, disgusted.

I picked up my file. JANE DOE. Yup, that was me. CAUSE OF DEATH, UNDETERMINED. Yuck, I’d been down for an autopsy. I started feeding the contents, sheet by sheet, into a paper shredder, feeling better as my record disappeared. “Can you imagine eating down here?” I said between sheets. “That is just gross.” Kind of like waking up barefoot in the morgue.

With a flourish, Shoe took control of the computer, pulling the chair up close and typing an address into the window to bring up a serious-looking black screen. Watching his proficiency, I mentally kicked myself for not knowing that it hadn’t been him in my first flash forward. Shoe was really good at this. Exceptionally good, I hoped as I finished destroying my file and came to stand behind him so I could watch him work.

“Let’s see what we’ve got…” he said softly, oblivious to where he was as he found the familiar in a new setting. He tapped a few more keys, and a search began. “Yup,” he said when something immediately popped up: a little black bird icon next to the string of nonsense letters and numbers that meant nothing to me. Black bird. Like the dripping artwork Ace had made his trademark. I hadn’t seen a real black wing in two days, but they seemed to be everywhere.

“There it is,” he said, glancing back at me with victory in his eyes. “We can do this from here. I just need to do some backtracking to make sure that it’s a two-way communication, then drop the patch in.”

He was excited. My heart gave a thump, and I smiled. “How long will that take?” I asked as I pushed the greasy chicken into the trash and sat on the desk. The orderly was really close to the elevator. If he kept shouting, someone would eventually hear him.

Shoe shrugged, totally unruffled and cool. “Few minutes.”

Relief spilled into me, and I exhaled a breath I’d probably taken five minutes ago. “That’s great,” I said, beaming. “Shoe, you’re fantastic. I wouldn’t know the first thing to do.”

“Yeah, well, it’s what I do,” he said awkwardly, but then he blinked at me. “What happened to your shirt?”

My hands flew to the lab coat to make sure I was covered. I was, but I slid from the desk, holding the lab coat tighter about my middle. “Uh, I was dead,” I said, flustered. “They tore it while trying to get my heart beating.”

“Sorry,” he said, seeming to mean it. Turning back to the keyboard, he started tapping.

“It was my favorite shirt, too,” I said, wondering how I was going to keep this and my tights from my dad. Oh, swell, my dad. Crap, I’d promised to call my mother, too.

The sound of the elevator dinging in the distance brought both Shoe’s and my heads up. This wasn’t good. Maybe they’d found someone else to try sticking me for blood. “Just do your thing,” I said as I headed for the door. “No matter what, don’t stop. I’ll keep whoever it is out.”