Someone stepped out of the hearse.

It was Chris. He was in a white Home Guard uniform and a lab coat with two armbands, one with a black HG logo and the other with a red cross.

Why was he driving a hearse?

"Don't ask about the car and I won't ask about the clothes," Chris said, tossing a small duffel bag behind the flowerpot. It landed by my bloodied foot. I unzipped it.

"Scrubs?"

"What else?" Chris looked away while I put on the faded blue hospital clothing he'd brought me.

I looked like a mental patient.

Now that I was clothed, Chris walked straight over and gave me a big hug. "You are amazing, Ashley," he said. "Totally amazing!" he yelled out. "Let me see it."

I gave him the access card.

"Incredible!" He was elated. "I didn't even think you'd get my note. How did you do it? Did you give him the sedative?"

"Sort of." I shrugged. "Seriously, don't ask."

"Do you think he knows you took the card?"

"I think he knows his whole wallet's missing."

"Crap," Chris said. "We don't have much time then. Let's go."

"Just a minute."

I hurried into the stables. Thirty or forty horses, all in their own stalls, pranced and snorted when I came in. They weren't in as bad shape as the chickens, but they'd eaten through all of their feed, not to mention all of the hay on the stable floor. The water in their shared trough was down to a muddy puddle.

I turned on the trough faucet and started emptying sacks of oats into the feeding bins.

"Seriously?" Chris called out when he saw what I was doing. "We seriously don't have time for this. We have to go!"

"You'll thank me later," I said. "I promise."

When all of the horses had been fed and the trough was full, I turned off the water and got into the hearse with Chris. I was glad to see it wasn't carrying a coffin. The engine was already running. As soon as I closed the door, Chris put the clutch in gear and sped forward.

"Can I really not ask about the hearse?" I asked.

Chris shrugged. "Well, it's the best way not to get stopped and searched at a check point," he explained. "Most of the rangers on guard duty are the young ones, and they're all freaked out by coffins with people inside banging and screaming to be let out. Understandably. They'd rather just pretend this kind of thing isn't happening. So most of the guards just wave hearses through."

I tried not to think about how many people must have been buried alive right then. . .

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