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before Ryan had finished shouting. Bones smacked into the ground and rolled over but was getting ready to jump right back up as if it was nothing when a second officer with an animal-control pole and lanyard raced over and tossed the loop around Bones’s neck. As he pulled it tight, like a noose, a second officer looked over and stopped short.
    “Bones?” said a voice filtered through layers of plastic and charcoal.
    But Bones was already back on his feet, gnashing at his tether as the officer at the other end of the pole kept the shepherd at a distance, prodding him ahead by what now looked like a spear jutting out of his neck. The officer who had recognized Bones walked over and took the pole away from the other officer.
    “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve got this.”
    The pole officer bent to one knee, keeping Bones at a distance but inviting him to look his way.
    “Bones?
Bones
. Hey, boy.”
    Bones, giving the air a sniff, managed to ignore the leash long enough to manifest some sort of recognition. The cop pulled the pole closer to him, allowing Bones to get within a foot.
    “Bones, hey,” the officer said, raising a hand to his gas mask, as if to take it off. “I’m a friend. We’re on the same team. We trained together.”
    “You keep that mask on, Purnell!” cried the team leader, a little incredulous.
    “Yeah, sergeant—I forgot,” the officer—Purnell—said but then waved the sergeant over. “But sir, this is Bones. He’s Billy Youman’s better half in the K-9 unit.”
    “No shit?” grunted the sergeant. “Guess we know what happened to Commander Zusak and the others out on 790, then.”
    Mr. Arthur stared up at the men as they checked him over for additional weapons.
    “You can quit with the stormtrooper act now,” he grunted, though he was still in pain. “You can see we’re not one of them.”
    “One of who?” asked the sergeant, as if having not a clue what Mr. Arthur could be referring to.
    “Do I have to spell it out for you?” grunted Mr. Arthur. “Come on. You’ve seen a movie, read a comic book or two. You got cannibalistic dead guys running around the western Pennsylvania countryside.”
    “Sir, all we know is that we’re dealing with an outbreak here,” the sergeant replied. “For all we know, the three of you and maybe the dog, too, are infected.”
    “Are you kidding me?” asked Mr. Arthur as a medic bandaged his wound. “There’s a big damn difference between me—
us
—and what we’ve been fighting out here all morning while you assholes sat on each other’s dicks. Do I look dead to you?”
    “At present, you may be merely a carrier, but should your ‘status’ change, you would express the characteristics of what we’re currently labeling the ‘Stage 2,’” the sergeant explained.
    “Oh, you say that like it wasn’t almost you guys who just about changed my ‘status,’” Mr. Arthur bellowed. “So I guess if you’d shot me dead and then I’d gotten up and run over there to bite your head off, that would’ve been considered what—friendly fire? I’m sure you would’ve gotten a medal for it, but you’d still be dead.”
    The sergeant stared at Mr. Arthur through the shaded black eye holes of the gasmask and shook his head angrily.
    “Sir, we probably have less of an idea of what we’re dealing with out here than you do. You three are the first survivors we’ve come in contact with, and we have our orders. I’m sorry if that conflicts with your idea of due process, but right now, ‘containment’ is taking precedence. Maybe you’ll come around to understanding that.”
    With that, the sergeant turned and headed away, deciding there was no need for further debate. Officer Purnell watched this exchange with a satisfied grin but then turned back to Bones, discreetly taking off one of his gloves and giving Bones a pat.
    “You’ve probably been through hell, huh, boy?” Purnell said. “Shit, man. Bet this means Billy’s bought it,