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haven’t seen any others like me , Lisa.  Only like them.  Watch the news more if you have to convince yourself, but you’re safer in that room.  Keep an eye out through your window if you have to.  Do that now, okay?”
    “Okay,” she said.  Then: “Oh, my God!”
    “What?” I asked.
    “The street!” she said.  “There’s … people out there.  Some of them are naked!”
    “What?”
    “I think that’s Bill Pace from down the street.  Dave, he’s running around naked!”
    “He’s not in his head, Lisa.  And he’s dangerous as fuck.  Stay there.  You know it’s going to take me a while to get there, but whatever you do, you have to stay safe.  Don’t move.  You’ve got an attached bath, so you have water.  Just wait.”
    “Dave, he’s attacking a woman!  Bill Pace!  What the hell’s going on?”
    “It’s bad.  Don’t trust anyone, and don’t leave your room.”
    “I won’t.  When will you be here?”
    “I don’t know, but I’m leaving now,” I said.  “I’ll take this cell with me.”
    “Okay, I have the number showing on my phone.”
    “Charge it up.”
    “I will,” she said.
    “Bye.”
    “Dave,” she said, her voice worried.
    “Yeah?”
    “Be careful, okay?”
    “From your lips to God’s ears,” I whispered, and hung up.
    I grabbed the bag from the floor and jammed into the garage.  I searched for the light, but as I fell into the room, it went on automatically.
    Motion sensor.
    The 2012 BMW S1000RR gleamed in the florescent lights.  My eye caught the key in the ignition and I fed my arms through the straps of the stuffed, ritzy backpack, situating it on my back.  I jumped on the bike and turned the key.  Full tank.  Using the electric start, I fired the engine, leaving the stand down.  I jumped back off and ran to the door, hitting the garage door opener.  There was a helmet hanging on a peg by the door.  I grabbed it and stuffed it on my head, snapping the strap as I returned to the bike.
    I sat down, pulled the clutch and put it in first gear.
    I was very aware, as the garage door rose, that I didn’t have the guns I needed, but I would have to deal with that later.  I never said I was the brightest fucking bulb in the box.
    I was in panic mode, but some of my decisions weren’t bad.  The BMW would handle beautifully and get me outta Dodge.
    Right now I wanted the protection of speed; something these things did not seem to be in possession of.
    When I saw enough light to jet, I let out the clutch, cranked the gas and rode for daylight, the rear tire squealing on the painted garage floor.  Poor Mrs. Dunaway had severed part of her right arm as she followed me through the window, and I tried not to think about Leona, dead in the spare bedroom. 
    I would try to always picture the beautiful woman I had known and loved for those years, and work to convince myself once and for all that what I had seen her turn into was not something that anyone could come back from. 
    For Christ’s sake, Mrs. Dunaway didn’t even seem to notice that her arm was dangling from a few straggly tendons, never mind that her tits were still out.
    I loved Leona, and it killed me to know she wouldn’t be there to listen to all my bullshit, support me when I was struggling, and to hold onto when I needed someone to keep me from going insane.
    But I wasn’t Flex then, just as I’m not him now.  I was scared, Leona was gone and I had my mom and Lisa to think about.
    My little sister, whom I now knew was okay, was my only real hope for sanity at that moment.  In my heart, I think I had begun to fear the worst about my mom.  The house wasn’t that big that she wouldn’t hear her phone from her bedroom, even if it were in her purse in the kitchen.
    I was in the clear as I hit the street, and I was glad to feel the wind whipping my long hair against my back as I realized I still had no shirt on.
    I rode.  I’d deal with that later, too.  There were shirts in the