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The beating had been administered by professionals, and it had left him spent; almost lifeless. He sat with his head down, bound hand and foot to the chair. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth; there was a gash across the bridge of his nose, and his bottom lip was beginning to swell. He faded in and out of consciousness, awareness a faraway signal he couldn't seem to home in on just yet.

"It's all over," someone hissed: "You're finished."

Neil focused on the voice, opened his eyes: he was staring down at a dirty concrete floor speckled with his own blood. He blinked.

"We took out your site," the voice continued: "It's history."

Slowly, because the muscles in his neck had been torn by the beating, Neil lifted his head. He blinked again, clearing his vision; focused. His eyes narrowed.

The pale gray face bent before him reeked of rot; the breath was thick and heavy, the odor that of the grave. There were wormholes in the skin. The teeth were turning as black as the gums. Something crawled from one nostril to drop unnoticed to the floor.

Neil managed a half-hearted chuckle. "You dropped something…"

The zombie straightened. "I see you still have a sense of humor…" The voice rasped harshly, like the voice of a long-time smoker. Turning away, the zombie gestured toward the surrounding darkness.

A pair of dead men stepped into the pool of light provided by the single naked bulb dangling above them. They wore clothes that had literally rotted on their bodies, the color fading to a dull gray over a long period of time. The color matched their skin. Neil recognized them: the two pros who'd worked him over earlier.

The zombie who had spoken to Neil turned again to regard him evenly. "Good-bye, Mr. 'Fawcett'- or whoever you are. You won't be bringing us any more unwanted attention after tonight…"

He turned away with a gesture of finality to the two goons. The darkness beyond the light seemed to swallow him whole. A moment later, a door was opened and closed.

Neil forced a smile as the two zombies came toward him. "Fellas…"

The shorter of the two threw a looping right to the jaw. Neil tried to roll with the punch, but it nonetheless connected solidly; his head snapped back. He went limp.

"Untie him," the taller zombie said: "We'll take him down to the sub-basement, down to the 'playroom.'"

The other snickered and bent to his task, working at the knots of Neil's ropes.

The taller zombie went to the door and opened it, peered out into the hallway. "Coast is clear," he said. He turned to watch his companion work.

And suddenly, his hands and feet free, Neil was up. He drove a short, straight right to the jaw of the zombie who had freed him and, as the thing spun away, falling, he whirled to meet the charge of the taller creature. The thing tried to enfold him in its arms, but he ducked and drove his head into its stomach. The zombie doubled over with a grunt (not in pain, but because the air had been driven from its lungs), dropping across Neil's back. He straightened, throwing the upended monster headfirst to the floor. It fell heavily onto its head, snapping its neck and effectively severing the synaptic connections that had kept it going. It lay unmoving.

Neil twisted around to look down at it- and suddenly felt the cold, lifeless fingers of the smaller zombie locking around his throat. He bent and drove his elbow back with all his might; the zombie's grip was broken. Whirling, he lashed out with a perfectly executed crescent kick to the temple, and the zombie staggered back against the unseen wall. Its brains scrambled, it nonetheless resumed its attack, charging at Neil with an inarticulate cry.

He dropped and spun, his leg coming around in an arc to sweep the creature off its feet. It landed heavily, its head banging hollowly off the concrete, but it started to rise again. Neil finished it before it could sit up, dropping down onto its head with both knees. He felt as well as heard the skull beneath the scalp give. Shards of bone were driven deep into the brain and the zombie went still.

Neil rose slowly, looking from one motionless body to the other. Neither would ever trouble him again.

He looked toward the door. Until he knew exactly where he was and what was going on, he would need a disguise. Reluctantly (but with no other choice), he went to the taller of the two bodies and knelt.

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