Sara didn’t try to cut through the station. She expected more zombies just waiting for anyone doing that. Instead, she went around the squarish building toward the tracks leaving the city. She checked her backtrail as she went.

No screams meant no zombies.

She didn’t bother to wonder about how they worked. She was in the afterlife. The walking dead could probably feel her as she was moving around. It didn’t matter how they tracked her as long as she could keep ahead long enough to get to the border.

She wondered what it would be like to deal with someone with a brain. She doubted they would just let her traipse through their backyard without saying something. Maybe she could get hints on how to deal with the guys running the dark bubbles.

She hoped they didn’t all command an army of zombies.

Maybe it would be better if they did. Zombies were dangerous, but not smart enough to be a threat. Did she really want to run into a real threat while trying to reach the tower?

Sara started down the tracks. She hated being in the open with a relentless enemy behind her. She wondered why zombies, but figured there was no way to find out. She didn’t want to talk to the guy running the dark bubble. Such an interview would go bad for her.

She needed to get away long enough to rest. Then she had to think about her next moves. She had been pushed into rushing, and thought things were set up that way. Both sides wanted you in their armies, and didn’t want to give you time to figure out what you could do with the weapons from the armory.

She wondered about all the lost weapons. Were they sitting around where they had been dropped so that she could pick something up on her way? Or did they go to a different armory if they weren’t used? Could freelancers reclaim their gear if they could get out of the armies they had been conscripted into? Was the zombie horde freelancers like herself that had been taken before they could get out of the dark bubble?

She had too many questions, and doubted anyone would give her answers. The powers that be were more interested in their war games, and keeping freelancers from the tower.

Could freelancers disrupt the set up to make it easier for other freelancers to reach the tower? That would be a worthy goal if she couldn’t get there herself.

Sara heard a scream behind her. She looked over her shoulder. She saw one lone zombie standing on the train tracks behind her. The train station was behind him. She drew her pistol and blasted him. The damage was done, but that zombie would not be chasing her up to the border.

She started jogging for the border. She had to make the demarcation line before they caught up with her. She might have to fight tooth and claw with zombies if they caught up with her. The short blade in the back of the lion paw she wore should help with that.

Would the light army help her against the zombies if they rushed to the border after her? Could they cross that line?

Energy bolts blew up individual monsters as they shambled from the shadow of the buildings of the fake city. Some screamed to alert more as the horde slowly covered the ground between their downtown and the enemy.

A sentry in glowing cuirass and helmet waved for Sara to turn away from the border. She gritted her teeth and kept running. His face said he was going to keep her out and feed the zombies.

The bubbles had a real border in a series of standing rocks marching across her path. On her side, everything held a dingy gray quality. On his side, everything looked brighter.

“Help me!,” called Sara as she ran toward the rocks.

“Freelancers are on their own,” called back the soldier. “Turn right, please.”

He pointed out the direction he wanted her to go.

She knew that was going to be the answer. She had seen a horde of bureaucrats do the same thing when she asked for help with her kids. They all said ‘Can’t help you. Try some other office.’

She decided not to stand for it this time, just like she hadn’t stood for it then.

She pointed the pistol at the base of one of the standing stones as she approached. The line was at the top of a hill. If she tipped the stone over, maybe it would slide down and crush some of the horde behind her. She fired into the ground and blasted away a divot.

“What are you doing?,” said the representative of the Light. “You can’t just damage property like that.”

“I don’t remember asking you,” said Sara. She holstered the pistol and drew the short blade. She needed a lever more than she needed a way to turn the standing stone into a bunch of little rocks.

She didn’t actually know if she could do that with the energy pistol, but she didn’t want to find out either.

She swung the short knife in her hand as she eyed what she wanted to do. The blade extended with the sweep. She thought she heard some kind of lion roar come from the sword as it waited to be used.

“I forbid you from doing whatever you think you’re going to do,” said the border guard.

She dug into the ground beneath the standing stone with the point of the blade. White light blasted from the sword, digging out a channel under the marker. She stepped back as the monolith fell over and started down to the bottom of the hill.

A wave of white washed over Sara as the stone went by. She smiled as she watched the border extend over the zombie horde as the rock crashed into some of them and squished them flat with its weight.

“What have you done?,” asked the guard. “This is nothing but trouble.”

“You should have thought about that before you joined the army,” said Sara. She held the sword in front of her. The round jewel in the hilt pointed at the zombies. She could hear the roar in the gem as the dark slit that caused it to resemble an eye widened into a red beam of light blasting through the horde and sending the stone flying into the city.

The bubble of light became an amoeba with a pseudopod extending into the enemy territory. Zombies caught in the effect but not dead from the stone or the light beam created little patches of dimness where they stood.

“I have nothing to do with this,” said the soldier. He held a hand to his ear. “Some freelancer just sent one of our border stands into Count Varn’s lichdom.”

A dark column of smoke blasted into the sky over the city. It formed a rainbow arc that dropped it down in front of Sara. A pale man in a black suit adjusted his tie as he absorbed the smoke into his body. He glanced at the border guard, then her.

“I usually don’t handle freelancers, but you have attracted my attention,” said the new arrival. The knot in the tie was a hangman’s noose, and the suit belonged to a funeral parlor. “I am obligated to give you one chance to join my army. What’s your answer?”

“I’m going back to my life,” said Sara. “That’s just how that goes.”

“Why would you think that?,” said the Count. “The Light won’t help you. And as a lord of my domain, I am more than capable of ripping apart any freelancer who tries to stop me.”

“Sir,” said the guard. “You’re going to have to step on the other side of the line. You can’t fight here.”

“You heard him,” said Sara. “You can’t touch me.”

“You’re going to have to cross the line also,” said the guard.

“Really?,” asked Sara.

The Count smiled with teeth that belonged to a wolf.

“You are a freelancer,” said the guard. “You’re excluded from traveling through our territory. We can’t hinder you, but we’re not going to help you either.”

He waved at the added bubble of space.

“And you have created an incident where we might have to fight the local lords and their armies over a border stone,” said the guard. “What did you think you were doing?”

“Escaping from a horde of hungry monsters,” said Sara. “Wait. Isn’t your job killing monsters?”

“Only if they cross the line on their own,” said the guard. “We don’t move the line to take advantage. That’s a degree of rules breaking that we don’t like.”

“The Count is right here,” said Sara. She gestured at the thing in black. “Shouldn’t you do something about that.”

“The Count is going to go back over the line,” said the guard. He waved at the agent of darkness to back up. “Then you are.”

“That’s right, freelancer,” said Varn. He nodded. “I’m going to back up to the new border. I expect you to meet me. If you don’t, you’ll be hunted by both sides.”

“He’s right about that,” said the guard. “The rules are the rules.”

“Whatever,” said Sara. She swung the sword in her hand as she watched her enemy float across the grass to the nearest edge of darkness.

“Join the army of Light, and we’ll protect you,” said the guard. “Otherwise, you have to take your chances.”

Sara glared at him. She knew the meaning of a cold war. It had been part of her life when she was a little girl. She supposed she expected better.

She didn’t know why.

Sara walked down to where the line separated her from Varn. He smiled at her. She glared at him.

“It’s been a long time since I killed a freelancer,” said the Count. “I want to savor this emotion.”

Sara flung the sword at him. She reached down and pulled the energy blaster from the rig on her leg. Her hand performed the action smoother and quicker than she thought possible.

Varn knocked the sword away. He raised a hand to stop the slow packets of light flattening against his liquid wall. He smiled as he advanced. He would show this freelancer how they did things.

Sara’s sword never touched the ground. The trajectory of its flight and the block from its target had shoved it to one side. It kept spinning through the air until it was behind the Count. Then it stabbed the monster in the back.

Varn looked down at the point burning the air as it stuck out of his chest. He reached up to break the sword with his strength of will. He forgot about his defense as he tried to fix his wound.

Sara killed him with a green blast of energy to the face. He burned the air as he came apart. She caught the sword as oily smoke cooked the grass away where he had stood.