San Diego 2014 Read Online Free PDF

Buffy, or Xena, or Indy Rivers. As long as she kept thinking of the situation like that—like it was a story, something she was watching on television, and not something that was actually happening around her—she’d be fine. She hoped.
    It wasn’t like she had a choice. At this point, running wasn’t an option.
    The stall’s owner screamed, adding his own little bit of noise to the din, and cowered behind his register. Kelly was privately starting to think that this might be a good idea. Then the people in the bloody clothes were on top of her, and there wasn’t time to think about anything but fighting for her life. She swung her staff first with military precision and then with wild panic, hitting bodies that barely seemed to notice the impact.
    It wasn’t until their greedy, grasping hands bore her to the floor that she added her own voice to the screams around her, and by then, it was too late for anyone to come to her defense. For Kelly Nakata, the convention seemed to be over before it properly began.
     
    * * *
    7:01 P.M.
    The California Browncoats were set up toward the back of the hall, far from the open doors and the sound of screaming. Still, the commotion eventually filtered back to them. Dwight jumped onto a stack of boxes so he could peer over the booths, which were mostly the same height. “Some sort of commotion near the doors,” he reported. “Security’s moving in.”
    “Actual security or our security?” asked Rebecca. It was an important distinction. The actual convention center security would be dressed in the normal rent-a-cop array, and wouldn’t do much to quell a fannish riot. The con’s private security force, on the other hand, was a mixture of Dorsai Irregulars and people in full-body armor dressed as Imperial stormtroopers. They could stop a bunch of pissed-off fans with a stern look and a waggled finger.
    “Both,” said Dwight. He paled, still staring at the doors. “The people who’re coming in from outside don’t look good.”
    “Don’t look good how?” asked Shawn.
    “Bloody. Biting.” Dwight turned to face the other Browncoats. “I don’t really feel like describing what’s happening right now. But I think maybe we should start looking for another door.”
    That was when the lights went out on the convention center floor and the screaming began in earnest. The Rising had come to San Diego.

LORELEI TUTT’S APARTMENT,
LONDON, ENGLAND, JUNE 1, 2044
    Lorelei’s voice is a soft monotone as she recites the events of July 23, 2014; she does not look up from her teacup.
    LORELEI: The lights were a mistake. Some stupid rent-a-cop thought it was just an ordinary riot, and decided people would calm down if they couldn’t see anything. I wish I knew his name. I’d like to go and spit on his grave.
    MAHIR: Who turned them back on?
    LORELEI: The Klingons. One of them saw him do it, and they were fighting to hold the lobby, so he went after the guy. Do you even have Klingons anymore?
    MAHIR: They were the villains of a pre-Rising science fiction drama, weren’t they? One of the Star Trek spinoffs.
    LORELEI: Not quite, but I guess that’s close enough. The Klingons I’m talking about weren’t aliens; they were people wearing heavy costumes and silly latex heads, and somehow they figured out what was going on. I don’t know how; maybe one of them knew someone who’d already encountered Kellis-Amberlee outside of San Diego. They were the ones who realized that most of the infected weren’t in the main hall yet. If they closed the doors, the people inside might have a chance.
    MAHIR: So they closed the doors?
    LORELEI [ nodding ]: Yeah, and then they got the lights back on. There were already some zombies inside, but they were figuring that the people in the hall would find a way to hold them off until help arrived.
    MAHIR: The people inside? What about the Klingons?
    LORELEI: They stayed in the lobby. It was the only way they could get the doors to close. They even