He had a nightmare, and woke up in a dark room.

  He sat up and touched his head, confused. What had happened? Where was he? What time was it? For a moment he dared to dream that he had woken up in his own bed, and that the last few days had simply been a part of his nightmare, but this was clearly not the case. He wasn't in his own bed -- in fact, he wasn't in a bed at all. He was lying on a rubber mat, on the floor of a rather cold and candlelit room. Shadows were dancing on the walls.

  Someone had thrown a quilt over him. He pushed it off.

  He wasn't sure how long he had slept, but it must have been most of a day or night, because he felt wonderfully refreshed. He had barely slept since he had arrived in this world; this long sleep, even if it had been clouded by nightmares, had been a blessing.

  There were bandages on his arms and hands, and a large one wrapped around his torso; someone had evidently seen to his wounds. Despite these injuries, however, he felt great. His mind was clear, and he felt strong, alert, invigorated.

  Well, of course. He had gained eight levels, by killing the Living Hell. Curious, he opened up the menu and checked his stats.

  Stuart Brakely

  Level 18 "Overachiever"

  HP: 303

  "Overachiever"? Had he acquired that title by killing the Living Hell? He wasn't sure.

  In addition to that, his HP had doubled, and most of his other stats had soared. His strength and speed, in particular, augmented by the Strong Arm and Speed Freak skills respectively, were much higher now. His defense and stamina stats were a little lower, compared to these, and his intelligence stat hadn't changed much at all, but overall these were some big improvements.

  He also had twenty-four skill points available to allocate. He spent about fifteen minutes scrolling through the various skills, to see if he had missed anything interesting, but in the end, followed through on his original plan and purchased the Regeneration skill, which cost twenty points. A message popped up in his face:

  Regeneration Acquired!

  Almost immediately he began to feel a strange sensation under his bandages, as though there were bugs moving beneath them. He unwrapped one of the bandages on his arm just in time to see a deep cut close itself shut, the skin knitting together and causing the bloody, half-formed scab that had developed over it to simply fall off. Brushing it away, he found that the injury had totally healed, and that it hadn't even left a scar.

  "Well," he said to himself, staring at his arm in wonder, "that's going to come in handy."

  He did have some questions about this new skill, however. How well would it really protect him? Could he regrow whole limbs? Could he survive being shot in the head? And if he could regrow an arm (for example), how long would that take? He knew that the skill wouldn't necessarily protect him from poisons; Virge had almost certainly had the Regeneration skill, and it hadn't saved him from the mutate's poisons down in the subway.

  He didn't want to start thinking of himself as invincible, simply because he had this new ability to heal himself. That would be dangerous.

  He had four skill points left over after purchasing Regeneration. A part of him wanted to splurge and use them up -- he could level up either the Strong Arm or Speed Freak skills, with those four points, or level up Dead Aim (allowing him to use it twice in a day) or Night Vision (extending its duration from thirty minutes to an hour). Silence, Artful Dodger, Shadow King, and Firewalker were possibilities, too. Shadow King was particularly intriguing -- the skill would allow him to "disappear into the shadows" for a few minutes a day. Other interesting skills included "Bomber Blocker," which would protect him from bombers; "Captain Critical," which would make it easier for him to earn those mysterious "critical bonuses"; and the disgusting "Cannibal," which would give him the ability to absorb the powers of certain zombies and mutates by eating their flesh. Though he found it interesting, he had no desire to try out this last one; in fact just thinking about it made him sick.

  He was more intrigued by the higher-level skills, though -- Marksman, Don Juan, Guns Blazing, Chainsaw Ballet, Golden Moment. Unfortunately Marksman cost fifteen points, Don Juan cost twenty-five, Guns Blazing cost thirty-six, Chainsaw Ballet cost thirty-eight, and Golden Moment, which would give him ten minutes of perfect invulnerability, cost sixty.

  So he couldn't afford any of these. "Zombie Radar" only cost five points, however, and that seemed like a very useful skill -- he hated being surprised by zombies, bursting out of closets and rushing at him from around corners. He decided to wait until he had acquired one more skill point, and then go with that.

  He dismissed the menu screens and was just about to get up when a door opened and Lucky appeared. "Hey, you're awake," he greeted. "You must have been pretty tired, huh?"

  "How long did I sleep?"

  "About fourteen hours. The sun's been up for a while now."

  "Fourteen hours? Holy shit." He didn't think he had ever slept that long in his life; he must have been extraordinarily tired.

  "Yeah, we thought maybe you were dying or something. The Dealership's doctor looked you over, though. She said you were just exhausted. She's the one who bandaged you up."

  "Ah."

  "She checked to see whether you were infected, too. She checked all of us."

  "Where are we? What is this place?"

  "A room in the old dealership building." He took off his backpack, set it down on the floor, and unzipped it. Reaching in, he pulled out Stu's Midnighter. "I believe this belongs to you." And then he took out a whole box of .45 ACP ammunition and handed that to him as well.

  "Where did you get that?" Stu asked.

  "Marshal Tempo," he said.

  "The leader of the Pale Riders?"

  "Yeah. You saw him before -- he's the old guy with the beard. You used his rifle to stop the Living Hell when it came charging at you all."

  "Oh."

  "He wanted to talk to you. Luna did, too."

  "Is she all right?"

  "She's fine." But his expression was troubled. "A lot of people died, though. Four Wild Pack guys, three Pale Riders, and eight people from the Dealership."

  "Damn."

  "It could have been a lot worse. Madhouse was planning to attack Beggar's Town after killing Marshal Tempo and the Pale Riders. If he had managed to do that..."

  "So what's happening now?"

  "Things are pretty much back to normal. Tempo's men captured about fifty Wild Pack guys after we warned him about Madhouse's plans; the rest of them ran off. And with Madhouse gone, and the Wild Pack broken up -- for now -- I don't think any of the other gangs are going to want to try their luck against the Pale Riders. They've always been the strongest gang in Meku."

  "I guess that's good."

  "Yeah." He took his canteen out of his backpack and handed it to Stu. "Want a drink?"

  "Thanks." He took a long draught and handed it back to the kid, wiping his mouth. "Now what?"

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  "I've got some things to do. Still trying to convince Marshal Tempo to let me have Madhouse's Centurion rifle. Oh, but Luna wanted to talk to you. I'll go tell her you're awake." He zipped up his backpack, threw it over his shoulder, and gave Stu a serious look. "Thanks."

  "For what?"

  "For everything. For helping me kill the Brute. For helping me find Luna. For saving me back at Southside, and saving me from the Living Hell before. It probably would have killed me if you hadn't distracted it."

  "It was nothing."

  "It was not nothing," he said firmly. "Anyway, thanks. It's not easy making friends in Meku City, you know. Everyone's always looking out for themselves. You never know who to trust." He smiled just a little bit. "But I trust you."

  Stu returned the smile, but he didn't know quite how to respond to that, so he merely nodded. Lucky nodded back, and left the room.

  The door opened again a few minutes later, however. "You're awake?" a voice called out from the shadows. It was Luna.

  "Yeah."

  She entered the room. She had cleaned herself up a bit since the last time he had seen her; perhaps she had taken a bath or shower. Her hair was no longer a tangled mess, but shiny and straight, and she had washed the grease off her face. Her outfit was a little different, too; she had acquired a brown leather jacket and a t-shirt with the words "Night Train" on it. He didn't know what that meant, but the shirt looked good on her. He had been having a hard time deciding whether Luna was pretty or not, but seeing her like this, scrubbed and clean, with her eyes glistening and her face seeming to glow in the soft candlelight...no, she was definitely pretty.

  "How are you feeling?" she asked cautiously.

  "Fine."

  "Fine? I saw what the Living Hell did to you. You were bleeding from a dozen wounds."

  "Was it that bad?"

  Her eyes fell on his arm, the arm with the cut that the Regeneration skill had now healed. Realizing that she might find this suspicious, he tried to hide it under the blanket, but she yanked it away and pulled his arm out so that she could see it under the light.

  "You had a deep cut here, running halfway down your arm," she said. "I saw it."

  "Yeah," he said, a little guiltily.

  She shoved his arm away and took a step back from him. "What are you? Are you even human?"

  "I'm human," he answered quickly. "At least, as far as I know."

  "You fought the Living Hell yesterday, all by yourself. You held it in place with that rifle when it came charging at you. No human being could have done that."

  "Well..."

  "You threw a knife in its eye, too. I had trouble believing that story about you killing the Brute by throwing a knife in its eye, but I thought maybe you just got lucky." Her eyes narrowed. "Twice, though? No one's that lucky. No one can throw a knife at a moving target like that, and it hit perfectly, twice. I don't care how skilled they are."

  "Well..."

  "Your strength isn't human. You threw Madhouse out of my glider like he was a kid. And I saw you running up on the walls of the Dealership when you were chasing after the Living Hell. You must have hit twenty-five, thirty miles an hour."

  "That's an exaggeration."

  "You're not human," she insisted. "I want to know who you are, and what you are, and what you're doing in Meku City."

  He sighed. "I told you. Lucky told you. I came from another world."

  "A world where people are stronger and faster than they are here? Where they can heal themselves overnight?"

  "No," he admitted. "The people of my world are just like the people here."

  "But not you."

  "Not me," he said. "Not anymore." It was time, he decided. "I can tell you everything. I don't think you'll believe me, because I don't really believe it or understand it myself, but..." He looked up at her. "You don't have to be afraid of me."

  "I'm not afraid of you," she insisted, with a bit of false bravado. "I'm not afraid of anything."

  "You sound just like your brother," he said, chuckling.

  "Just tell me."

  He sighed. "You remember the story I told you, about how I got here? About how I was kidnapped by two guys and marched through this portal?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, one of the guys -- Virge -- did something to me just before he died. He touched my forehead, and I saw this flash of light, and since then...well, since then I've had this thing in my brain."

  "Thing?"

  "It's called the ICON system. I don't know what that means; I don't know if it's supposed to stand for something or what. But I see these screens, like computer screens, that nobody else can see. It shows me my "stats" -- my health, my strength, my speed -- and if I kill enough zombies these stats go up. It tells me about zombies, too -- it identifies them for me, telling me what kind they are and how strong they are."

  "Like in a video game?"

  He blinked. "You know about video games?"

  "Of course I do. I haven't played one in years, not since before the outbreak, but I remember them from when I was a kid."

  "Lucky didn't seem to know much about them. I thought maybe they weren't common in this world."

  "They were before his time," she said. "But you're telling me the whole world looks like a video game to you?"

  "Sort of. I have these stats, and every time I level up, or complete a quest--"

  "A quest?"

  He stopped. "Oh. I get quests, too, like in a video game. They just pop up randomly. If I complete the quest, I gain levels and earn these "skill" points. I can use these skill points to acquire new skills -- like throwing things with perfect accuracy. That one's called Dead Aim."

  "This is ridiculous."

  "I know it sounds crazy," he said. "Like I said, I don't understand it myself. I'm just following the rules of the game, trying to get strong enough to make it to Lon Halos, to find this Dr. Snowe, and to go home."

  "It's ridiculous," she repeated. "Do you really think I'm stupid enough to believe a story like that?"

  "You saw what I can do." He unwrapped the bandage on his head and showed her his scalp, which, like his arm, had been healed by the Regeneration skill. "How do you explain this?"

  "Zombies can heal themselves, too."

  "Only their internal organs. They can't repair their skin and bones. Lucky told me that."

  "You could be a mutate. Mutates come in all shapes and sizes. Some of them look more or less human, and some of them have strange powers."

  "Do you really think I'm a mutate?" he asked, spreading his hands innocently.

  "I don't know what you are," she said, "but it's easier to believe you're a mutate or some kind of weird brainy than a man from another world, who gains levels and skills like he's in a video game."

  He shrugged. "Believe what you want. I've told you everything I know."

  She snorted and turned away from him. After a moment, however, she asked, "What kinds of quests do you get?"

  "The first one was called Justice for Jacen. I completed it by killing the Brute. The second was Looking for Luna, and the third was Madhouse Mayhem."

  "Looking for Luna?"

  "It appeared after Lucky asked me to help find you."

  "This is ridiculous," she muttered, for the third time. But she sounded like she was arguing with herself now, rather than with Stu. After pacing back and forth a bit she asked, "Why do you think these two guys kidnapped you, brought you to our world?"

  "I have no idea."

  "Think."

  He scratched at the back of his head. "They kept telling me I had to get to Lon Halos and find Dr. Snowe. They said I was the key to everything. But there's nothing special about me -- or at least, there wasn't, until Virge gave me the ICON system. Why would I be the key to anything?"

  "They must have had some reason for bringing you here. You, specifically. And this reason was so important that they were willing to die for it."

  "I guess so," he said uncomfortably.

  "Who do you think this Dr. Snowe person is?"

  "I don't know. But he sounded like the brains behind the whole operation."

  "A doctor," she murmured. "Working in Lon Halos."

  "Do you know something?"

  "No. But some of the Pale Riders might."

  "I'll ask Marshal Tempo." He paused. "I forgot to ask. How's your glider?"

  "Scratched, dented, dinged up," she growled. "It still runs fine, but it's going to take me forever to buff out all that damage."

  "You can fix anything," he reminded her.

  "You learn fast." She gave him a long look. "This story of yours...it doesn't make much sense. I still think you might be some kind of mutate. But...you have helped us out, over the last couple of days. You saved my brother and you saved me and you probably saved the whole damn Dealership from the Living Hell. I don't know why a mutate would do that, but..." She trailed off. "I think you're all right."

  As soon as she finished speaking, an ICON message popped up in his face. It was a new quest.

  Quest Available: Looking for Love: Luna

  Accept quest? Yes/No

  He stared at the message. Looking for love? What was this? The ICON system was giving him romantic sidequests now?

  He was so surprised by the message that he didn't touch it; he let it hang there in front of his eyes. Luna, meanwhile, was looking at him quizzically. "What is it?"

  "Nothing," he said quickly.

  "Hmm."

  "For what it's worth, I think you're all right, too," he said. "What are you going to do now? Are you going back to Harbor, with Lucky?"

  "I haven't decided yet. What about you?"

  "I've already told you. I have to get to Lon Halos."

  "Lon Halos is on the other side of the country."

  "I'm aware of that."

  "It'd take you forever to walk there."

  "I'm hoping to hitch a ride with one of the Pale Riders. I was going to talk to Marshal Tempo about it."

  "Hmm."

  "You don't think that's a good idea?"

  "You can't trust Tempo. You can't trust anybody."

  "I've heard that."

  She didn't say anything in reply to that; she simply snorted again -- Luna did a lot of snorting -- headed for the door, and left.

  The ICON message was still floating in front of him. "Looking for love," he muttered. Was he looking for love? Not really. Luna was pretty, and courageous, and he did like her, but he had other things to worry about, like getting to Lon Halos. A relationship? In this zombie nightmare? He shook his head. He didn't want to settle down in this world; he didn't want to start thinking of this place as his new home. This was a temporary sojourn, nothing more. As soon as he found Dr. Snowe, he was heading home.

  Home. He sat back, closed his eyes, and tried to imagine what it would be like to see his friends and family again. He tried to imagine the moment. He saw his mother and father, and Zach, and Phil...and Berly.

  Berly.

  "Looking for love," he muttered again. He touched the "No" button beneath the quest message, and it disappeared from his sight.