At least I didn’t see any bodies, so the quarantine line had been spared for the most part. I sure hoped that wouldn’t be changing soon.

Armstrong pointed out a big, rubberized command tent, similar to the one that I’d seen the MCB use in Natchy Bottom. “That was where Stricken’s strike team was working out of. I’m going to find the rest of my men, I’ll send a few after your friend, and then I’m getting my tranquilizer gun.”

“Awesome…” I muttered as I set out for the command tent. I was so tired I could barely think.

The silhouette of the Last Dragon towered above us. It had seen better days. Most of the windows were broken. Gigantic chunks of the conference center were missing. The gardens were one big muddy hole. The spot where I’d fallen down and hurt my leg was now just a smoking ruin from Milo’s last improvised explosive device. I couldn’t see any movement and had no idea if any of the others had made it back.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Holly whispered.

“Most of them,” Mosh answered. I looked at him and he blinked slowly. “What? You can’t hear him? Mordechai just said that most of them made it back.”

“Well…Huh…” At least now I wasn’t the only psychic in the family.

“You can have your dead guy back now,” Mosh insisted. “What? No…Why? Because I don’t want to be a crazy person, okay…Back off, old man. Shit. He says I’m easier to talk to than you…Go screw yourself. I’m evicting you as soon as this is over.”

I winced as I made it down the stairs. This had better be over soon, because my ankle and foot had swollen so much that I was now bleeding between my boot laces. At least Gretchen’s healing swill had really kicked in because I wasn’t in as much pain, either that or the nerves had just given up and died. Great. Whatever worked.

There was a Blackhawk parked in front of the tent, and it must have been here when the fog hit, because the pilots were sitting inside. One was crying and rocking back and forth while the other one was just staring blankly out the window. “I think that’s Franks’ ride.”

Normally there would be guards posted on the entrance, but they had probably fled. One MCB agent was curled up in the fetal position behind the tent flap, wearing his gas mask, and muttering something about crocodiles over and over again.

“Looks like it was a real party out here when that pillar came down,” Mosh said.