Epilogue
Arty sticks around the restaurant for a bit, digging for information from the four heroes as well as the kitchen staff. He knows he's not getting the full story, but he seems content with what he's got by the time the police arrive a few minutes later.
Due to the number of incidents in the city throughout the evening, the cops merely take statements and cordon off the scene. It will be some time before a crime scene unit will be able to arrive. Fate takes one last look at the body in the freezer, noting in the back of his exhausted mind that Paul Link looks no different than he did when Granite carried him out of the sewers - scoured tissue with patches of fungi.
*****
Lawrence manages to get one of the cops to track down his father. While they aren't allowed to carry on a conversation over the police band, his father assures Lawrence that he's okay...and that they should talk in the morning back home. Lawrence borrows a cell and has his brother come pick him up.
An hour later, Andrew brings his car to a stop in front of their parents' house. He looks over at Lawrence, who has been sleeping soundly for most of the ride.
"Good job, kiddo," he says quietly, then wakes his brother just long enough to lead him to his old bedroom.
*****
Granite gives Fate a firm handshake, then nods farewell to Jorgi and Lawrence before taking off himself. He aims himself in the general direction of the downtown area. A few enormous leaps later, he's near his buddy's apartment. He discretely transforms back to his "normal" form and walks the last block.
Exiting the elevator on the fourth floor, Thomas can tell by the noise that he's not too late. Without knocking, he let's himself into his friend's unlocked apartment. His army buddies look up from the cramped table littered with empty beer cans, chips, and cards, and give him a hearty cheer.
"We've got an empty chair waiting for you and your cash," Duece yells at him, lobbing a cold beer at him from across the room. "That hero act won't cover your buy-in!"
His buddies laugh and clap him on the back, eager to return to the game.
*****
Jorgi is all too eager to be done with this evening. Two nights in a row of danger is making him wonder whether things might have been quieter had he stayed in Russia and dealt with the angry mob goons. He gives his farewells to the others and flies off into the night.
Back at his apartment, he finds that most of the mess from his earlier encounter has been cleaned up. It's quiet and his neighbors are locked in for the night. He crashes in his own bed. Before he completely drifts off to sleep, he links his mind back into the internet via his own computer. Sure enough, all the files are now decrypted. He forwards copies of them on to Professor Linderman as well as some secure accounts of his own for later perusal.
He drifts off to sleep with images of a cute goth girl prancing through a field of eight-foot tall green mushrooms.
*****
Fate, thoroughly exhausted, is more than ready to leave once the police finish taking their statements. He feels like there are a number of unfinished matters to deal with, but he can't think of any that won't wait at least until morning. By all accounts, the fungus that has rampaged the sewers has stopped growing. The police assure him that they'll pass along the info about using strong bases to counter it.
He makes it back to his apartment, slipping through the ventilation system intangibly. He returns to a solid form inches above his couch and is asleep moments later. Maggie tries calling three times that night, but Fate never wakes.
*****
The next day...
The Coast City Chronicle ran Arty's story on the events of the previous night. "Mutant Fungus Paralyzes City" the headlines screamed. "Super Foursome to the Rescue Again" said the byline.
While there were plenty of holes in Arty's presentation of the material, what was present seemed remarkably accurate. How he was able to piece things together and write a story in the few scant hours after events went down was nothing short of remarkable.
Serious cleanup efforts began almost immediately, and most of the city had water and sewer services restored within a couple days. The death toll was estimated at around 220, both those who had been "zombified" or victims of the zombies.
*****
A few days later...
Dr. Linderman rubbed his eyes and pushed himself away from the desk. He looked over his shoulder at Dr. Breen, chair of the Genetics Department, who was also buried under a pile of reports and computer files.
"Well," Dr. Breen said without looking up, "I think it's pretty clear that the effect that took Paul over was fundamentally different from the way the zombies functioned. Paul's DNA was changed into something entirely new. The tissue samples from the zombies show something more akin to a viral infection. There is, however, signs in a few cases that they may have begun to experience genetic changes as well. I'll need to study it longer."
"Pretty much what we figured, then," Dr. Linderman said. He was exhausted, having hardly slept since the events of that horrific night. Some compulsion to clear Paul Link's name drove him on.
"I'm concerned about some of the samples we collected from the fungus," he continued.
"How so?" Dr. Breen said, finally looking up at his colleague.
"Well, the spores that I had Jeanine culture turned out to be viable," he said. "That means that this city is probably hosting several trillion spores, any one of which could trigger a future outbreak of the fungus again."
"Oh my God..."
"I'm hoping that the difference in climate will save us," Dr. Linderman said. "The original fungus is quite rare due to its extremely sensitive growth requirements. Once it's growing, it's more durable, but the exact mix of nutrients, moisture, and pH needed for the spores to start growing don't exist in the cooler climate of Coast City."
"So we should be okay?"
"Only time will tell," Dr. Linderman said. "We couldn't possibly get all the spores, and it's likely that some will spread around the world...on people's clothing, on animals, even on the wind. I think we're gonna have to create a group that will fully study this genetic profile. Learn everything we can, just in case it makes a comeback."
"It's a shame that most of the best labs for that sort of thing are buried under a few thousand tons of rubble. You're right, though. I'll get all my grad students on it right away. I think I'll start beating the bushes for some additional funding, too. Werner Schwartzeit of Aztechnologies has been bugging me for years to do some joint genetics research with his outfit. He's got the money, so maybe the time's right to accept his offer..."