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numbers.”
    “If they travel in hordes, won’t they be easier to kill?”
    Einstein shook his head. “Not necessarily. If you attack them like that, they’ll scatter...and then create little hordes we call packs in the games. Packs grow and—”
    “Become hordes.”
    “Exactly.”
    “And you think packs are on their way?”
    “Yes. Packs are happening as we speak.” Einstein pointed to the map. “Don’t confuse their slowness with immobility. They will walk all day and all night, never needing fuel or rest. Those which fell into the bay will walk right out and begin searching for human flesh.”
    Dallas started doing the math in her head. “So they’ll make their way through Oakland and Berkeley, growing stronger.”
    “Yes. And that’s why we’re relatively safe for tonight. There’s a whole lot of feeding to be had between here and there, but as they grow, so does the threat.”
    “I’ll get the horses ready in the morning, but for now...” Roper left the room and returned five minutes later with an armful of rifles, handguns, and several large knives. Dallas reached for the Glock, but Einstein made no move toward a weapon other than the buck knife.
    “Strap the knife around your thigh, and never be without it. My dad taught me a rifle runs out of bullets, but a knife is your friend forever. Just make sure you retrieve it.”
    Dallas took the sheath and strapped it on.
    “Okay, pull it out quickly and practice sticking it in,” Einstein said. “Cut off the head, stab the eye, or shove it into the frontal lobe of the brain, but never attack lower than the head. It won’t do any good. They aren’t vampires. The heart is already dead. You have to turn the only engine off it has and that’s the brain.
    “And if we’re behind it?”
    “At the base, right back here,” Einstein put his hand behind his head and showed them where.
    “Where you wear the sheath is up to you, Dallas, but I’ve always preferred it on my weak side, so when I draw it, I can quickly slash, like so.” Roper pulled the knife out with her right hand and slashed across her body. “But it’s personal preference.”
    Dallas untied her sheath and put it on her right thigh. “Left-handed,” she said.
    Roper offered her a slight grin. “Good. Either of you ever shoot a gun?”
    Einstein had not. Dallas had shot one of her colleagues’ once a couple of years ago.
    “Tomorrow, I’ll set up some targets. We can practice before going.”
    Einstein took his glasses off and cleaned them. “Running out of ammo is a huge factor in the games, so let’s make sure we don’t waste too much of it.”
    Roper strapped on what looked like a gun from the Wild West.
    “Does that thing work?” Dallas asked playfully.
    “This?” Pulling out the four-inch barreled .357 Magnum, Roper aimed it out the window. “At this range, if I shot you in the stomach, it would cut you in half. I’m leaving the automatics for you guys since they take less skill and accuracy to fire.”
    “And the rifles?”
    “Stay with the horses for now.” Roper watched Einstein yawn. “I’ll take first watch. Why don’t you both get some rest?”
    “I’ll take second,” Dallas offered. “Our little brainiac needs a good eight hours.”
    “Good. We’ll leave at daybreak.”
    Einstein started up the stairs, but stopped halfway up. “Thanks for letting me stay with you guys. I promise I’ll earn my keep.”
    Dallas tilted her head as she looked at him. He was probably a geeky gamer who was friends with the brilliant Asian students and the pock-marked fat kid everyone teased.
    “You already have, Einstein. You already have.”
     
    ****
     
    When it came time for her watch, Dallas felt like she had just closed her eyes.
    “Sorry,” Roper said, sitting on the edge of the guest bed. “I wish I could let you sleep longer, but my eyelids are disobeying orders.”
    Dallas slowly sat up, feeling thickheaded and groggy. “No sorries, Roper. We’re all