The Moderators found themselves in an old hay barn illuminated by a dozen naked lightbulbs high in the rafters. It was entirely filled with both old, dry hay bales and wheels of all kinds. The wheels were clearly a Zed’s work, but there did not seem to be any Zeds in evidence. Were they a by-product of dreaming? Were they a message?

Farooq-Lane made her way slowly through the wheels, spinning them here, turning them there. Each had the word tamquam on it, although she didn’t know the significance. She stepped out the other side of the barn. Cold air whipped across her cheeks, smelling of wilderness.

She stopped in her tracks.

Lock was leaning up against the exterior of the barn, his bald head slumped to one side.

It was not the real Lock, of course.

The real Lock was emerging to stand beside Farooq-Lane. The real Lock was exhaling noisily. The real Lock was putting his hands on his hips and saying nothing.

This other Lock was dead. Or rather, he was simply not alive. He had never been alive. He was just another mannequin, but with Lock’s exact face. He wore Lock’s usual track pants and sneakers, but the matching jacket was missing. Instead he wore a white T-shirt with words handwritten across it. Thirty pieces of silver.

Farooq-Lane felt something thrill inside her. “What does it mean?”

Lock said, “It means we need to find a different way to kill these three Zeds before this gets out of hand.”

Chapter 8

Hennessy couldn’t really fathom what it was like to be bad at art.

There was evidence that she had been, of course. Somewhere in the closets of her father’s Pennsylvania suburban home were journals full of her early drawings. Languishing in some English rubbish heap were grotty canvases she had painted over again and again. That old art was wrong in all the ways non-artists tended to notice: mismatched eyes, physically impossible nostrils, incorrect rooflines, broccoli-shaped trees, dog-nosed cows. And it was also wrong in all the ways artists noticed: poor use of value, inattention to edges, uneven line weight, lazy composition, muddy colors, sloppy palette choice, impatient layers, derivative stylization, tentative brushwork, overuse of medium, underuse of planning, unintentional fugliness.