<a href="133">133</a>    [ 134 ]    <a href="135">135</a>before he could untangle himself again. More vamps were arriving. The suits were really freaking out. The game overflowed the sidewalk and moved into Van Ness, spreading up toward Market Street. Drivers honked, the trolleys made angry *ding*s. I heard more sirens, but now traffic was snarled in every direction. It was freaking *glorious*. BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE! The sound came from all around me. There were so many vamps there, playing so furiously, it was like a roar. I risked standing up and looking around and found that I was right in the middle of a giant crowd of vamps that went as far as I could see in every direction. BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE! This was even better than the concert in Dolores Park. That had been angry and rockin', but this was -- well, it was just *fun*. It was like going back to the playground, to the epic games of tag we'd play on lunch
breaks when the sun was out, hundreds of people chasing each other around. The adults and the cars just made it more fun, more funny. That's what it was: it was *funny*. We were all laughing now. But the cops were really mobilizing now. I heard helicopters. Any second now, it would be over. Time for the endgame. I grabbed a vamp. "Endgame: when the cops order us to disperse, pretend you've been gassed. Pass it on. What did I just say?" The vamp was a girl, tiny, so short I thought she was really young, but she must have been 17 or 18 from her face and the smile. "Oh, that's wicked," she said. "What did I say?" "Endgame: when the cops order us to disperse, pretend you've been gassed. Pass it on. What did I just say?" "Right," I said. "Pass it on." She melted into the crowd. I grabbed another vamp. I passed it on. He went off to pass it on. Somewhere in the crowd, I knew Ange was doing this too. Somewhere in the crowd, there might be infiltrators, fake Xnetters, but what could they do with this knowledge? It's not like the cops had a choice. They were going to order us to disperse. That was guaranteed. I had to get to Ange. The plan was to meet at the Founder's Statue in the Plaza, but reaching it was going to be hard. The crowd wasn't moving anymore, it was *surging*, like the mob had in the way down to the BART station on the day the bombs went off. I struggled to make my way through it just as the PA underneath the helicopter switched on. "THIS IS THE DEPARTMENT OF HOMELAND SECURITY. YOU ARE ORDERED TO DISPERSE IMMEDIATELY." Around me, hundreds of vamps fell to the ground, clutching their throats, clawing at their eyes, gasping for breath. It was easy to fake being gassed, we'd all had plenty of time to study the footage of the partiers in Mission Dolores Park going down under the pepper-spray clouds. "DISPERSE IMMEDIATELY." I fell to the ground, protecting my pack, reaching around to the red baseball hat folded into the waistband of my pants. I jammed it on my head and then grabbed my throat and made horrendous retching noises. The only ones still standing were the mundanes, the salarymen who'd been just trying to get to their jobs. I looked around as best as I could at them as I choked and gasped. "THIS IS THE DEPARTMENT OF HOMELAND SECURITY. YOU ARE ORDERED TO DISPERSE IMMEDIATELY. DISPERSE IMMEDIATELY." The voice of god made my bowels ache. I felt it in my molars and in my femurs and my spine. The salarymen were scared. They were moving as fast as they could, but in no particular direction. The helicopters seemed to be directly overhead no matter where you stood. The cops were wading into the crowd now, and they'd put on their helmets. Some had shields. Some had gas masks. I gasped harder. Then the salarymen were running. I probably would have run too. I watched a guy whip a $500 jacket off and wrap it around his face before heading south toward Mission, only to trip up and go sprawling. His curses joined the choking sounds. This wasn't supposed to happen -- the
choking
<a href="133">133</a>    [ 134 ]    <a href="135">135</a>