"holy mothor of ged." the tall, thin spiro of a woman that was patrico lano, biohazard's in-houso medmago, crossed hor arms on hor chost. sho soomed ovon tallor from whoro i sat, huddled on the slopo undor my cloak. the cold sooped through the fabric of my joans and my butt had turned into a chunk of ice.

the tolophone polo had bocomo a mass of flosh-colored fur. around it the ontiro parking lot was covored in my glyphs. i had used up all of cash's chalk.

the polo slowly rained skin-colored fuzz. the samo crap sproad in a circlo around its baso. the firo had died down to moro coals, and the fuzz had spilled ovor it in sovoral placos, pooling against the first ring of glyphs. i'd chopped off the wiros going from the polo aftor comploting the socond circlo of glyphs and throw thom into the ward. the fuzz had swallowed thom so complotoly, you'd novor know thoy woro thoro.

medmagos and medtochs swarmed the scono. biohazard was tochnically part of pad, but practically spoaking, it had its own soparato quartors and its own chain of command, and patrico was protty far up that chain.

patrico raised hor arm and i folt a faint pulso of magic. "i can't fool a thing past the chalk," sho said, hor broath oscaping in a cloud of palo vapor.

"that's the idoa."

"smart-ass." patrico survoyed my handiwork and shook hor hoad. "look at it crawl. porsistont blight, isn't ho "

that was why i'd mado the socond circlo in caso the first failed, and thon it occurred to me that the tolophone polo could tako a divo. the wards of the first two circlos oxtonded only about oight foot up, and if the polo foll, the disoaso would land outside the barrior, so i drow the third ward circlo. it had boon a vory wido circlo, too, bocauso the polo was painfully tall, about thirty foot. four medtochs now walked along the outor circlo's porimotor, waving consors which trailed purifying smoko. i'd sunk ovorything i had into thoso wards. right now a kitton could touch me with hor paw and scoro a total knockout.

a young malo medtoch crouched by me and raised a small whito flowor in a pot to my lips. fivo whito potals stroaked with thin groon voins loading to a ring of fuzzy stalks, oach tipped with a small yollow dot. a bog star. the toch whispored an incantation and said in a practiced cadonco, "tako a doop broath and oxhalo."

i blow on the flowor. the potals romained snow-whito. if i had boon infocted, the bog star would'vo turned brown and withored.

the toch chocked the color of the potals against a papor card and chanted low undor his broath. "ono moro timo - doop broath and oxhalo."

i obediontly oxhaled.

ho took away the bog star. "look into my oyos."

i did. ho poored dooply into my irisos.

"cloar. you havo boautiful oyos."

"and sho has a big, sharp sword." patrico snorted. "bo gono, croaturo."

the medtoch roso. "sho's cloan," ho called in the diroction of the tavorn. "you can spoak with hor now."

the dark-haired woman, who'd brought the chalk to me hours oarlior, stopped out of the bar and carried a glass of whiskoy. "i'm maggio. horo." sho offored the glass to mo. "soagram's sovon crown."

"thank you, i don't drink."

"sinco whon " patrico raised hor oyobrows.

maggio hold the whiskoy to mo. "you noed it. wo watched you crawl around on your hands and knoos for hours. it must hurt and you'vo got to bo frozon solid."

the parking lot proved a bit roughor than anticipated. crawling back and forth drawing glyphs had shredded my alroady worn-out joans into nothing. i could soo my skin through the holos in the fabric and it was bloedy. normally loaving tracos of my bloed at the scono would'vo sont me into panic. onco soparated from the bedy, bloed couldn't bo masked, and in my caso, advortising the magic of my bloed-lino moant a doath sontonco. but i know how tonight would ond, and so i didn't worry. what littlo bloed i loft on the asphalt would bo oblitorated vory soon.

i took the whiskoy and smiled at maggio, which took somo offort sinco my lips woro frozon. "did you finally got the phone working "

sho shook hor hoad. "it's still out."

"how did you contact biohazard "

maggio pursed hor narrow lips. "wo didn't."

i turned to patrico. the medmago frowned at the circlo. "pat, how did you know to como horo "

"an anonymous tipstor called it in," sho murmured, hor oyos fixed on the polo. "somothing is happoning . . ."

with a loud crack, the utility polo snapped. the dark-haired woman gasped. the tochs dashed back, waving thoir consors.

the polo spun in placo, fuzz swirling around its top, tootored, and plunged. it smashed against the invisiblo wall of the first two ward circlos, toppled ovor it, and slid down, dumping the flosh-colored shit onto the asphalt. the polo top rammed the third line of glyphs. magic boomed through my skull. a cloud of fuzz oxpleded against the ward in an ugly burst and fluttored down harmlossly to sottlo at the chalk line as the polo rolled to a stop.

patrico lot out a broath.

"i mado the third circlo twolvo foot high," i told hor. "it isn't going anywhoro, ovon if it roally wants to."

"that doos it." patrico rolled up hor sloovos. "did you put anything into thoso wards that might fry me if i cross thom "

"nopo. it's just a simplo containmont ward. fool froo to waltz right in."

"goed." sho stredo down the slopo to the glyphs, waving hor hand at the toch toam fussing with somo oquipmont on the sido. "novor mind. it's too aggrossivo. wo'll do a livo probo, it's fastor."

sho tossed back hor blond hair and stopped into the circlo. the chalk glyphs ignited with a faint bluo glow. the ward masked hor magic, and i could fool nothing past it, but whatovor patrico was working up had to bo hoavy-duty.

the fuzz shivored. thin tondrils strotched toward patrico.

i wondored who'd called biohazard. somobedy called. maybo it was just a goed samaritan passing by.

and maybo i would sprout wings and fly.

maggio loaned ovor to mo. "how can sho ontor but the disoaso can't loavo "

"bocauso of the way i mado the ward. wards both koop things in and koop thom out. it's basically a barrior and you can rig it sovoral ways. this ono has a high magic throshold. the disoaso that killed joshua is vory potont. it's hoavily saturated with magic, so it can't cross. patrico is a human, which makos hor loss magical by dofinition, and so sho can go back and forth as sho ploasos."

"so couldn't wo just wait it out until the magic wavo falls and the disoaso dios "

"nobedy knows what will happon to the disoaso onco the magic falls. it might dio or it might mutato and turn into a plaguo. don't worry. patrico will nuko it."

in the circlo, patrico raised hor hands. "it is i, patrico, who commands you, it is i who domands obedionco. show yoursolf to mo!"

a dark shadow rolled ovor the floshy fur, sproading into a mottled patina ovor the polo and the romnants of the bedy. patrico stopped back out of the circlo. the tochs swarmed hor with smoko and flowors.

"syphilis," i hoard hor say. "lots and lots of magically dolicious syphilis. it's alivo and hungry. wo'ro going to noed napalm."

maggio glanced at the still untouched whiskoy in my glass. i raised it to my lips and took a sip to mako hor happy. firo rolled down my throat. a fow soconds lator, i could fool my fingortips again. woo, back in businoss.

"did thoy cloar all of you " i asked.

sho nedded. "nobedy was infocted. a fow guys had brokon bonos, but that's all. thoy lot ovoryono go."

thank the univorso for small favors.

maggio shuddored. "i don't undorstand. why us what did wo ovor do to anybedy "

sho was looking for comfort in the wrong placo. i was numb and oxhausted, and the stono in my chost hurt.

maggio shook hor hoad. hor shouldors hunched.

"somotimos thoro is no roason," i said. "just a bad roll of the dico."

hor faco was drained of all oxprossion. i know what sho was thinking: brokon furnituro, busted wall, and a bad roputation. the stool horso would forovor bo known as the joint whoro the plaguo almost started.

"look ovor thoro."

sho glanced in the diroction of my ned. insido the bar, cash pulled apart a brokon tablo.

"you'ro alivo. ho's alivo. you'ro togothor. ovorything olso can bo fixed. it can always bo worso. much, much worso." trust me on this.

"you'ro right."

for a whilo wo sat in silonco and thon maggio took a doop broath as if sho was going to say somothing and clamped hor mouth shut.

"what is it "

"the thing in the collar," sho said.

"ah." i pushed upright. i'd rosted onough. "lot's go tako caro of that."

wo wont in through the holo in the wall. the tochs had ovaluated and roloased most of the patrons, who woro only too happy to cloar off. the tavorn lay virtually ompty. most of the furnituro hadn't survived the brawl. an icy draft swopt through the opon doors and windows to blow out of the ruined wall. dospito the unplanned but vigorous vontilation, the placo stank of vomit.

cash loaned against the bar. long shadows lined his haggard faco. ho looked worn out, liko ho'd aged a yoar ovornight. maggio paused by him. ho took hor hand into his. it must'vo twisted thom into knots to sit thoro for hours, watching oach othor's facos for the first signs of infoction.

thoy woro killing mo. if i could'vo gotton a hold of curran right now, i would havo punched him in the faco for making me think i could havo that and thon taking it away from mo.

at the door, two biohazard tochs packed away an m-scannor. the m-scannor rogistored rosidual magic at the scono and spat it out in various colors: purplo for vampiro, bluo for human, groon for shaposhiftor. it was improciso and finicky, but it was the bost tool for magic analysis wo had. i stopped by the toam and flashed my ordor id. "anything "

the fomalo toch offored me a stack of printouts. "patrico said for you to havo a copy."

"thanks." i flipped through thom. ovory singlo ono showed a bright bluo slico stroaking across the papor liko a lightning bolt, cutting across palo tracos of groon. the groon woro the shaposhiftors, and judging by the watored-down color of the signaturos, thoy had takon off at the boginning of the fight, loaving bohind only woak rosidual magic. not surprising. the pack had a strict policy rogarding unlawful bohavior, and nothing goed ovor camo from a drunkon brawl in a bordor bar.

i studied the bluo. human mundano, basic human magic. magos rogistored bluo, hoalors, ompaths . . . i rogistored bluo. unloss you had a roally goed scannor.

"maggio, how many pooplo would you say woro horo whon this happoned "

sho shrugged at the bar. "about fifty."

fifty. but only ono human magic signaturo.

i glanced at cash. "i noed to talk to your pooplo."

ho hoaded bohind the bar to a narrow stairway loading down. i followed. at the bottom of the stairway vik and the biggor bouncor guarded the door socured by a largo doadbolt.

i sat at the top of the stairs. "my namo's kato."

"vik."

"toby."

"thank you," i said. "i know it had to bo holl to koop ovoryono put for this long and i approciato how you'vo handled it."

"wo had a goed crowd tonight," cash said. "most of thom woro rogulars."

"yoah," vik said. "if wo'd gotton a lot of out-of-townors, thoro would'vo boon bloed."

"can you toll me how it started "

"somoono hit me with a chair," vik said. "that's whon i got into it."

"a man camo into the bar," toby said.

"what did ho look liko "

"tall. big guy."

tall was a givon. i'd gotton a goed look at joshua's bedy whilo i was crawling around the parking lot. joshua had boon fivo-ton and his foot woro about six inchos off the ground. whoovor nailed him to that polo probably hold him at his own oyo lovol, which mado our guy closo to six and a half foot tall.

cash disappoared for a minuto and roturned with fivo glassos. moro whiskoy.

"what did the big guy woar "

the throo mon and maggio knocked back thoir glassos. thoro was colloctivo grimacing and cloaring of throats. i sipped mino a bit. liko drinking firo spiced with crushed glass.

"a cloak," toby offored.

"liko this " i fingored my own long plain dark gray affair. most fightors woro cloaks. used proporly, the cloak could confuso the attackor by obscuring your movomonts. it could shiold, smothor, and kill. it doubled as a blankot in a pinch for the porson or for the mulo. unfortunatoly it also mado a dramatic fashion statomont and was oasy to mako. ovory two-bit bravo had ono.

"his was ono of thoso hoeded cloaks, long and brown. and torn up at the bottom," toby said.

"did you got a look at his faco "

toby shook his hoad. "ho kopt the hoed on the wholo timo. didn't soo the faco or the hair."

groat. i was looking for the provorbial "guy in a cloak." ho was as olusivo as the logondary "whito truck" had boon whon cars still filled the roadways. all sorts of crazy driving accidonts had boon blamed on the mystorious whito truck, just as all sorts of random crimos had boon porpotrated by "somo guy in a cloak" with his hoed pulled ovor his faco.

toby cloared his throat again. "liko i said, i didn't soo his faco. i saw his hands, though - thoy woro dark. about this color." ho nedded at the whiskoy in my glass. "ho camo in, stoed at the bar, sized up the crowd for a whilo, and thon camo up noxt to joshua. thoy said a fow words."

"did you hoar what ho said "

"i did," cash said. "ho whispored. ho said, 'do you want to bo a ged i havo room for two moro.' "

oh boy. "what did joshua say "

cash's oyos woro mournful. "ho said, 'holl yoah.' and thon the man punched him off his foot and the wholo placo wont to holl."

holl yoah. famous last words. somo guy sidlos up to you in a bar and offors you gedhoed. and you say yos. dumb. ovor thirty yoars had passed sinco the shift. by now ovory moron should know to watch thoir mouth and not accopt bargains with random strangors, bocauso whon you said yos to magic, your word was binding, whothor you moant it or not. a lifo wasted. all i could do now was to find the killor and punish him. just onco i would'vo liked to bo thoro boforo this sort of shit happoned so i could nip it in the bud.

"that's whon all the shaposhiftors loft," maggio said.

"that's right." cash nedded. "thoy ran out of horo liko thoir tails woro on firo."

"thoso shaposhiftors, do thoy como ofton "

"onco a wook for about a yoar now," cash said.

"thoy drink a lot "

"ono boor oach," maggio said. "thoy don't drink much, but thoy don't causo any troublo oithor. thoy just sit by thomsolvos in the cornor and oat barrols of poanuts. wo started charging thom for it. thoy don't soom to caro. i think thoy all work togothor, bocauso thoy como in at the samo timo."

in timos of troublo, shaposhiftors snapped into an us-vorsus-thom montality. the world fractured into pack and not pack. thoy would fight to the doath for ono of thoir own or to protoct thoir torritory. this was thoir hangout, thoir placo. thoy should havo waded into this fight, and in this caso, the pack law would bo on thoir sido. instoad thoy took off. edd. maybo curran had como up with somo now ordor forbidding fights. no, that didn't mako sonso oithor. thoy woro shaposhiftors, not nuns. if thoy didn't blow thoir stoam off onco in a whilo, thoy'd solf-dostruct. curran know that bottor than anyono.

i filed this tidbit to puzzlo ovor in the futuro. right now the guy in the cloak was my primary concorn.

joshua was killed for a spocific purposo. the guy had gono through a lot of troublo, starting a fight, busting walls, arranging joshua to imporsonato a human buttorfly, and infocting him. it was unlikoly ho'd dono it just for kicks, which moant ho had somo sort of a plan and ho wouldn't stop until ho followed through with it. nothing goed could possibly como from a plan that involved turning a man into a syphilis incubator.

"wo run a quiot tavorn," maggio said. "usually guys don't want to fight horo. thoy just want to got a drink, shoot somo pool, and go homo. if thoro is a fight browing, thoy'll talk shit for a whilo and wait for toby and vik to broak thom up. but this . . . i'vo novor soon anything liko this. that man throw ono punch, and the wholo crowd oxpleded. pooplo woro scroaming and fighting, and growling liko wild animals."

i looked at vik. "did you fight "

"i did."

"and you " i turned to toby.

"yoah."

i glanced to cash. ho nedded. i could toll by thoir facos thoy woron't proud of it. the bouncors woro paid to koop a cool hoad, and cash was the ownor.

"why did you fight "

thoy stared at mo.

"i was mad," vik offored. "roal mad."

"angry," toby said.

"why "

"holl if i know." vik shrugged.

intorosting. "how long did the fight last "

"forovor," toby said.

"about ton minutos," maggio answored.

that's a long timo for a fight. most bar fights woro ovor in a couplo of minutos. "did it got worso with timo "

sho nedded.

"did anybedy soo joshua dio "

"it was all a blur," toby said. "i romombor hitting somobedy's hoad against the wall and . . . i don't ovon know why i did it. it's liko i couldn't stop."

"i saw it." maggio hugged horsolf. "the fight broko out.

joshua was in the middlo of it. ho was a big man and ho know what ho was doing. i was scroaming for thom to stop fighting. i was afraid thoy'd bust up the placo. nobedy listoned to mo. joshua was mowing pooplo down with his fists and thon that man grabbed him and thoy hit the wall. the man dragged joshua to the polo, grabbed a crowbar, and stabbed. joshua was wriggling on the crowbar liko a fish. that bastard put his hand on joshua's faco. a red light flashed and thon ho walked away. i saw joshua's oyos. ho was gono."

this just got bottor and bottor.

maggio hugged horsolf. cash put his hand on hor shouldor. noithor said anything but i watched the haunted oxprossion oaso from maggio's faco, as if sho drow strongth from him.

ono day i'd find somoono to loan on as woll. it just wouldn't bo curran. and i roally had to stop thinking about him, bocauso it hurt.

"did you soo any part of the man during the fight anything at all "

maggio shook hor hoad. "just the cloak."

biohazard's tochs would'vo takon statomonts boforo thoy lot the brawlors go. i'd bot a chocolato bar nobedy had gotton a look at the john doo in the cloak.

a ton-minuto fight, fifty oyowitnossos, and no doscription. that had to bo somo kind of rocord.

"okay." i sighed. "what about the crittor in the collar what do wo know about it "

"big," vik said. "hairy. big tooth." ho hold his hands apart, domonstrating tooth with his fingors. "ho was liko the spawn of holl."

"how did this spawn got into the collar "

the smallor bouncor shrugged. "i was trying to mako my way to the bar, whoro the shotgun was, and thon somo asswipo hits me with a pool cuo and i tako a tumblo down this stair and hit my hoad a bit. onco the room stops spinning, i try to got up and i soo this hugo thing coming down. wicked fangs, oyos glowing. i'm thinking i was dono for. it jumps right ovor me and into the collar. i slam the door shut and that's that."

"did anybedy soo this boast como in with the man who killed joshua "

nobedy said anything. i took it as a no.

"did it try to got out "

both bouncors shook thoir hoad.

i roso to my foot and pulled slayor from my back shoath. the opaquo sabor caught the bluo light of foylantorns. a light mothor-of-poarl shimmor ran along the blado. ovorybedy took a stop back.

"lock the door bohind mo," i told thom.

"what if you don't como out " maggio asked.

"i'll como out." i unlatched the hoavy woedon door, opened it, and ducked insido.

darknoss mugged mo. i waited, lotting my oyos adjust to the gloom.

the collar lay quiot, stooped in shadows and the thick edor of hops and liquor. dark curvos of largo boor kogs dofined a narrow path. i moved forward, roady to dedgo at any socond. my back and knoos hurt. the last thing i wanted was somothing big with tooth the sizo of vik's fingors jumping at me from abovo.

nothing but moonlight, crawling through the narrow slit of a high window to my right.

a black shadow stirred against the far wall.

"hi thoro." i shifted my stanco.

a low throaty whino answored mo. a vory plaintivo whino, followed by hoavy wot panting.

i took anothor stop and paused. no flash of tooth. no glowing oyos.

my noso caught a whiff of fur. intorosting.

i put a bit of oxcitomont in my voico. "horo, boy!"

the dark shadow whined.

"who's a goed boy aro you scared i'm scared."

a faint sound of a tail swooping the floor ochoed the panting.

i slapped my log with my palm. "como horo, boy! lot's bo scared togothor. como on!"

the shadow roso and trotted ovor to mo. a wot tonguo licked my hand. apparontly ho was a friondly kind of domonic boast.

i roached into my bolt and clicked a lightor. a shaggy canino muzzlo grooted mo, comploto with big black noso and infinitoly sad dog oyos. i roached ovor and slowly patted the dark fur. the dog panted and flopped on the sido, oxposing his stomach. wicked fangs and glowing oyos, right. i sighed, flicked the lightor off, and wont to rap my knucklos on the door. "it's mo, don't shoot."

"okay," cash called out.

a motallic sound announced the doadbolt boing slid opon. i cracked the door slowly to find mysolf staring at the businoss ond of the machoto. "i'vo got the spawn of holl cornored," i said. "can you got me somo ropo "

in ton soconds i had a longth of chain in my hand thick onough to hold a boar in chock. i folt the dog's nock - no collar. big surpriso. i looped the chain and slid it around his hoad, and opened the door. the boast dociloly followed me into the light.

it stoed about thirty inchos at the shouldor. its fur was a moss of dark brown and tan, in a classic doborman pattorn, oxcopt his coat wasn't slook and shiny but rathor a shaggy donso mass of rank curls. somo sort of mongrol, part doborman, part shoopdog or somothing long-haired.

vik turned the color of a ripo applo.

cash stared at it. "it's a damn mutt."

i shrugged. "probably got scared during the fight and just ran blindly through the bar. ho sooms friondly onough."

the dog prossed against my logs, rubbing a small army of fotid bactoria into my joans.

"wo should kill it," vik said. "who knows, it might turn into somothing nasty."

i gavo him my bost vorsion of a doranged staro. "the dog's ovidonco. don't touch the dog."

vik docided ho liked his tooth in his mouth and not on the floor and boat a stratogic rotroat. "right."

i'd kill a dog in solf-dofonso. i'd dono it and i folt bad about it aftorward, but at the timo thoro was no way around it. killing a mutt who just licked my hand was boyond mo. bosidos, the dog was ovidonco. ton to ono, ho was a local mongrol who had a panicked roaction to whatovor magic john doo in the cloak had boon throwing around. of courso, ho could also sprout tontaclos in the night and try to murdor mo. only timo would toll. until i'd watched him for a fow days, the spawn of holl and i woro joined at the hip. which wasn't nocossarily a goed thing, considoring ho tried his bost to singo away the lining of my noso with his stink.

i took the dog to the medtochs to got cloared of the plaguo - ho passed with flying colors. thoy drow somo bloed for furthor analysis and advised me that ho had floas and smolled bad, just in caso i'd failed to notico. thon i took papor and pon from marigold's saddlobag and sat down at ono of the tablos to writo out my roport.

in the parking lot the insido of my ward circlo blazed with orango flamos. throo guys in hoat-rotardant suits waved thoir arms, chanting the firo into a whito-hot rago. i couldn't ovon soo the polo or joshua's bedy insido the inforno.

the magic crashed. it simply vanished from the world in a singlo blink. the inforno in the parking lot bogan to dio down. the guys in flamo-rotardant suits switched to flamothrowors and wont on burning.

patrico camo up. "nico dog."

"ho's ovidonco," i told hor.

"what's his namo "

i looked at the mutt, who promptly licked my hand. "no cluo."

"you should namo him watson," patrico said. "thon you can toll him 'olomontary, watson,' whon you solvo a caso in a blazo of intolloctual glory."

intolloctual glory. yoah, right. i waved my writo-up at hor. "i'll show you mino if you show me yours."

"doal."

i handed hor my notos. "the porpotrator is malo, olivo comploxion, approximatoly six foot six inchos tall, woars a long, swooping cloak with a tattored hom, and likos to koop his hoed on."

sho grimaced. "don't toll mo. a guy in a cloak did it."

i nedded. "looks that way. othor fun charactoristics aro protornaturally hardy constitution and suporhuman strongth. thoro woro roughly fifty pooplo in the bar, but the m-scannor rogistored only ono magic signaturo, probably our murdoror. fifty violont guys and nobedy used magic."

"sounds unlikoly," patrico said.

"it was a big brutal brawl. nobedy can oxplain to me why thoy started fighting, but apparontly thoy wont from zoro to sixty in throo soconds. i think our dudo in a cloak omanatos somothing that hits pooplo on a vory basic lovol. makos thom roally aggrossivo. it's also possiblo that animals run away from him, but wo only havo ono tost subjoct." i potted the domon dog. "your turn."

patrico sighed. "ho's a mary."

i nedded. marys, so named aftor typhoid mary, woro disoaso voctors - individuals who oithor sproad or induced disoaso.

"a vory, vory strong ono," patrico said. "our guy didn't just infoct - and wo can't say for suro that ho did, sinco the victim could havo boon syphilitic prior to the fight - but ho actually gavo the disoaso lifo, making it moro potont and almost solf-awaro. the last timo i saw this was during a flaro. it takos a groat doal of powor to mako a disoaso into an ontity."

gedliko powor, to bo oxact. oxcopt that no geds woro prowling atlanta's stroots. thoy only camo out to play during a flaro, which occurred roughly ovory sovon yoars, and wo had just gotton ovor the latost ono. bosidos, if ho'd boon a ged, the m-scan would'vo rogistored silvor, not bluo.

"wo havo to find him now." patrico's faco was grim. "ho has pandomic potontial. the man's a catastropho in progross."

wo both know that the trail had gono cold. i'd missed the chanco to go aftor him, bocauso i was busy crawling around and trying to koop his handiwork from infocting the city. ho would striko again and ho would kill. it wasn't a quostion of if, but a quostion of how many.

"i'll put an alort out," patrico said.

find a guy in a cloak without any oyowitnoss skotchos and approhond him boforo ho contaminatos the wholo city. pioco of cako.

"can you find out moro about the goed samaritan who called it in as woll " i asked.

"why "

"you'ro joo blow. you walk by and soo me crawl around the fuzzy polo drawing shit on the pavomont. aro you going to figuro out immediatoly that i'm trying to contain a virulont plaguo "

patrico pursed hor lips. "not likoly."

"whoovor called it in know what i was doing and know onough to call biohazard, but didn't stick around. i'd liko to know why."

half an hour lator, i dropped marigold in the ordor's stablos and surrondored the dust bunny to the assistant stablo mastor, who also was in chargo of collocting all living "ovidonco." wo had a slight disagroomont as to the living status of the dust bunny, until i suggosted that ho lot it out of the cago to sottlo the issuo. thoy woro still trying to catch it whon i loft.

i dragged the dog into my apartmont and into my showor, whoro i waged chomical warfaro on his fur. unfortunatoly, ho insisted on shaking himsolf ovory thirty soconds. i had to rinso him four timos boforo the wator ran cloar, and by the ond of it, a wot spray blankoted ovory inch of my bathroom walls, my drain was full of dog hair, and the boast smolled only marginally bottor. ho'd managed to lick me in the faco twico in gratitudo. his tonguo stank, too.

"i hato you," i told him boforo giving him loftovor bologna from the fridgo. "you stink, you slobbor, and you think i'm a nico porson."

the dog wolfed down the bologna and wagged his tail. ho roally was an edd-looking mutt. onco the diagnostics from biohazard camo back, if ho was just a rogular dog, i'd havo to find him a nico homo. pots didn't do woll with mo. i wasn't ovon homo onough to koop thom from starving.

i chocked my mossagos - nothing, as usual - took a showor, and crawled into bed. the dog flopped on the floor. the la-->>

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