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quite able to land as quietly on the sleeping houses as Oliver could, his feet thudding on each roof. “Sorry,” he offered before Oliver had said anything.
    They angled across the neighborhood, leaping over yards and streets. Oliver tried to track Emalie on the wind, but her scent seemed more faint than usual, so they had to stay close, keeping her in sight, but not too close, such that she’d hear Dean’s landings.
    Emalie reached a thickly wooded park and disappeared beneath the trees. Oliver and Dean hopped down to the sidewalk and followed cautiously after her. The park yawned down a gentle hill. Large old pines shrouded the sparse grass beneath. Here and there, lampposts cast cones of white light on the twisting cement walkways.
    â€œThere,” Oliver whispered. He pointed down to their right. Emalie was in a very dark gathering of trees, kneeling in the grass, her bag in front of her. “Can you tell what she’s up to?”
    â€œNah,” Dean replied, squinting. “It’s kinda dark for photos, though, isn’t it?”
    â€œWe should get closer,” Oliver suggested.
    â€œCloser?” said Dean. “She might see us!”
    Oliver felt a twinge of his old annoyance with Dean. He was still nervous, even as a zombie. “Not too close,” Oliver said, and was just about to start forward when a sound made him stop.
    â€œWhat was that?” whispered Dean.
    It had sounded like laughter, coming from the other direction. “This way,” said Oliver. They crept away through the trees and spied a small sandy playground. There were three figures there. They looked young. “Vampires. Stay here,” Oliver said sternly. “And, Dean, I mean it.”
    â€œFine with me,” Dean agreed, sounding not at all hurt to be left behind.
    Oliver walked down through the shadows, glancing to his right as he did so. He couldn’t see Emalie from here, and the wind was blowing uphill, but if it shifted at all it might carry her scent to these vampires.
    Now he heard one of them talking:
    â€œAnd he was so scared. It was like he’d never seen a Norwegian Mongreloid before!” Oliver recognized the voice as it went on. “What a freak.”
    One of the others chuckled.
    Oliver dropped down onto the sand, shoving his hands into his sweatshirt pockets as he walked closer. The vampires looked up.
    â€œIs that Oliver Nocturne?”
    â€œTheo,” Oliver said simply.
    Oliver’s classmate, Theo Moore, was lounging across the top bars of a jungle gym. His friends Brent and Maggots were sitting on the spring-powered seesaw, rocking up and down a little, but they stopped the moment they saw Oliver.
    â€œWhat are you doing out?” Theo asked. He spoke with that same sarcastic tone that he’d used to pick on Oliver in the past, except these days he sounded just a bit less certain. Everyone at school looked at Oliver differently since he’d allegedly killed Dean. Oliver didn’t enjoy it. He felt like a curiosity: like a leopard at the zoo—everyone watching him through glass and wondering what he might do next. It was kind of nice not to be made fun of, but Oliver felt like it was only a matter of time before he screwed it up. So lately he’d been saying as little as possible. That way, maybe everyone would think he was mysterious, when really, he didn’t know what to say.
    â€œI’m just out,” Oliver said, and an awkward silence passed over the three. The wind shifted downhill, and Oliver caught a faint scent of Dean. He noticed Maggots cocking his head strangely as well, but then the breeze died away. “What are you doing here?” Oliver asked.
    â€œWe’re looking for humans,” Theo said, still with some attitude, but also with that ever-so-slight edge of defensiveness. “Not to make friends with, either,” he added.
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?” Oliver shot back.
    Theo