1. The New Normal

I didn't know then that things were only just starting. I didn't know then that the mess we were recovering and rebuilding from would be the first in a series of ongoing struggles that would decide the fate of the world itself.

I only knew I was ready for things to get back to normal.

Channel 15 News was on in the breakroom at Feedworthy. Feedworthy was my job, the highlight of and bane of my existence. A place where I was paid a living wage to do work I loved, but a place that laid a burden on me at the same time. A burden of perpetually churning out coverage. A burden of adding to the digital age yet more data that allowed clicks and likes and helped some digital giant somewhere rack up consumer information so that they could target ads. I was a big-timer in the Information Age, had one of the well-paid jobs in the gig economy, and what's more, my big boss from DDM had just died. In respect to his memory, we retired the idea of a vlog series on urban legends in the city; and I was left to write my articles on the same subject matter in relative peace.

My assistant Gabe met me in the breakroom. We sipped on green tea and stood together quietly; the coffee pot in the corner a destitute mess that hadn't been touched in over a month by anyone with any sense.

We watched the news anchors smile and gab with one another about the mass-food poisoning incident in their professional suits. It was a story Gabe and I had constructed together to cover up what really happened—and in the quick strides to cover up anything else being out of the ordinary, the Feds had taken it and ran with it. It wasn't too far off base. Whatever dark magic was soaked into the coffee creamer delivered city-wide had poisoned endocrine systems, killing humans city-wide, and bringing them back as ravenous members of the undead.

William Corcoran, a Necromancer with a grudge against me, had done it. He'd poisoned the city. He was Gabe's ex-boyfriend and my old foe. He had been banished forever to Topside by the Regional Council, as the witch who'd trapped his soul had said. It should have been comforting, I knew, but it wasn't. Not just because I didn't get closure—but because I wasn't sure what Topside was. Nobody would explain it to me directly. They just muttered under their breath and made a series of holy symbols in the air before them.

In truth, I was pretty much done with the idea of adventure. At the end of this latest one, I was banged up, put on trial, framed, and almost executed for everything. This was after a full-blown Chicago-wide zombie apocalypse, mind you, and even traveling back in time to wrap up my own loose ends. The idea of an average day in the office scrolling through client emails and penning their conspiracy theories into something plausible was about the most appealing thing I could think of to do with my time.

I think everyone in the city was feeling that way if I were being honest. Stores had begun to reopen quietly; windows replaced, electronics fixed. More and more cars and public modes of transportation had come onto the street, but everything was still a ghost town. There was an air of anxiety on everyone's face when they were in public. Most coffee joints had been shut down. It was a total shift in the public consciousness. Even when I got cravings for the brown stuff, it was easier and easier to do without. I just had too many memories.

"Heard there's some bars reopening next weekend," Gabe said, sipping his matcha.

"You gonna go?" I asked.

"Probably not," he said. "I've just been staying at home at night and coming to work. Life's pretty boring, but it's been safe, at least."

"Safe," I said.

We both laughed.

"How are the men in your life?" Gabe asked me.

"The boys?" I asked.

"Yeah. Your little vampire troupe."

"Don't get me started," I said. "Eddie and Vic, we're still dating, but they've both been distracted. Brother Al hasn't spoken to me in a month. And Nagisa…" I shook my head. "I don't know what's going on with him."

"Love is complicated," Gabe said. And then: "I'm thinking about taking a vow of celibacy."

"What?" I asked. "Why would you do that?"

"My last boyfriend poisoned the whole city while I unknowingly helped him advertise the stuff that did it. I'm starting to think my libido is just going to lead me to trouble."

"I resonate with that sentiment," I said. "All my libido's done is get me involved with too much crap."

"We could join an Abbey together," he said. "Do they have unisex abbeys?"

"Maybe in Tibet," I said.

"I don't know that orange is my color," Gabe said.

"It's really not," I said.

We laughed together for some time until we both started tearing up, and then we stood in silence for a little longer until someone else shuffled into the room.

"Are things ever going to feel normal again?" Gabe asked, after some time.

"I keep wondering the same thing," I said.

The news anchor's teeth were bright and shining on the flat-screen. I couldn't help but stare at how fake his smile looked.

My phone rang over lunch. It was my parents. I stared at the number, listening to the ring tone drone on and on, and decided not to answer it. My tuna-on-rye started to look less than appealing, and I decided the best way to spend my off-time was a nap.

I cuddled up on my bean bag in the corner of my office and closed my eyes. Almost as soon as my lids were closed, I could see it again—a white tower jutting into the sky, and four massive flames, all shining in different colors throughout a deep forest. Someone was cackling behind me, and when I looked at the sky, the moon hung high and bright. I could feel myself floating towards it, higher and higher, like a piece of cotton or a leaf or a balloon floating through the air, and then the whole of the moon turned, and a giant man's face stared down at me.

It was like seeing the brilliance of God himself, and I knew The End was coming, and I woke up in a puddle of sweat, screaming into my darkened office around me.

It was eight at night. I'd slept all day, and nobody came to wake me up. I could see the moon on the horizon, bright against the Chicago skyline. So I called one of my boyfriends, and he said he'd come and grab me.

Eddie was at the curb, bike idling, fingerless gloves revving the throttle.

"Working late?" he asked me.

"Save me from this place, please," I said.

"Hop on," he said.

I hitched up my purse and grabbed him around the middle, and off we sped into the night, darkness whipping around us.

"Have you eaten?" he asked.

"No," I said. I thought of my tuna sandwich on my desk. It would stink the whole place out by the morning.

"How's ice cream sound?" he asked.

"You're my favorite person," I said.

"I bet you say that to every vampire you meet," he called, against the wind.

Eddie could digest plain vanilla ice cream. That was about it, other than blood. We sat and ate cones at night on the street, the neon light of the shop sign behind us buzzing.

"You look distracted," I said.

"It's Brynholf," Eddie said. "Stupid fucker. Thinks he knows what's best. Constantly expects me to fill out paperwork for every little fucking thing. It wears on you. Half the time he sends the forms back and asks me to redo them. I'm struggling with all this and I have it easy. I'm only forty something. Me and Vic keep having to do Brother Al's paperwork for him. It's a mess."

"We had a guy like that," I said. "Turned into a zombie. Andy, the head of my department, tossed him out the window after he ate a few interns. Maybe you guys should toss Brynholf off a skyscraper. Or into a volcano or something."

Eddie laughed.

"You're crazy," he said. He fell silent.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

"You don't want to know," he said.

"I really do," I said.

"You really don't," he said. "Trust me."

"Look, how can you consider us partners if you can't open up to me?" I asked.

"Stacey," he said, and looked into the distance. "Do you consider us partners?"

I closed my eyes, pinched the bridge of my nose. This was one of those recurring conversations, the prelude to what I knew would be an argument where both of our feelings would get hurt.

"I just don't know what you want out of me," Eddie said.

"I want a partner," I said.

"I can't have kids with you," he said.

"I don't want kids."

"Then what do you want?"

"You," I said.

"Then why everyone else?" he asked. He threw his hands up. "Why not just me? Am I not enough?"

"I can't have this conversation tonight," I said.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I had a long day at work," I said.

It was a lie. I knew it. He knew it. He knew I knew he knew. But neither of us said anything else for a while.

"You want my waffle cone?" he asked after a moment. His voice was somber, a little disappointed, extra careful about what he was saying. "I can't eat the cone part."

"Fork it over," I said quietly.

He passed it over, and I stared at it. Stared at the way the vanilla dripped down the sides, penetrating the crevices. I flaked off little pieces, put them in my mouth. Thought about how much of myself I could give.

"I'll take you home here in a bit," he said, his voice quiet.

I was quiet for a little longer.

"Okay," I said eventually.

We didn't talk for the rest of the night. Just waved goodbye at one another at the door to my apartment. I shut the door, latching it, leaning against it, and sighed, sliding down and coming to a rest on my heels.

My phone buzzed again.

From: Vic

Message: Hey, Stacey. We need to talk. About us.

I slammed my head back on the door and sighed.

"Why?" I asked. "Why now?"

I sent a text to Brother Al. Or at least. I started to. He was the oldest of the bunch; acted as a Priest, of sorts, even though he and I had a moment of passion during a time I wasn't quite thinking the right way.

Al, I wrote. I know we have our history. But I need advice. About my love life.

I deleted it. Decided I didn't owe him an explanation.

Al, I wrote. Hey buddy. Long time no see. I know you're busy?—

I deleted it again and then started typing.

Al. I can't do this anymore like this. I don't know what to do.

I stared at the text for what felt like twenty minutes, thumb hovering over the 'Send' arrow, and then sighed and put my phone on the ground. I got to my feet, stopped in the kitchen for some anxiety cheese, and then staggered over to the couch and sat. I binged comedy specials until the siren song of sleep took me away.

Again, the flares were flickering in my dreams, and the moon turned, leering at me with its holy wrath…