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Also by Wright & Dudycha

The Uncivil War Series

UNCIVIL WAR

UNCIVIL WAR: EVOLUTION

Adam Burke Series

MOVING TARGET

HARD TO KILL

BREAKING POINT

COLD FRONT

BLACKOUT

Also By Bradley Wright

Alexander King

THE SECRET WEAPON

COLD WAR

MOST WANTED

POWER MOVE

ENEMY LINES

SMOKE SCREEN

SPY RING

WAR MACHINE

Alexander King Prequels

WHISKEY & ROSES

VANQUISH

KING’S RANSOM

KING’S REIGN

SCOURGE

Tom Walker

Killer Instinct

Holy Water

Blind Pass

Deliverance

The Wrong Man

Black Market

Lawson Raines

WHEN THE MAN COMES AROUND

SHOOTING STAR

Saint Nick

SAINT NICK

SAINT NICK 2

Adam Burke

MOVING TARGET

HARD TO KILL

BREAKING POINT

COLD FRONT

BLACKOUT

Also by J.D. Dudycha

First Coast Adventure Series

Coastal Pursuit

Seaside Heist

Gage Finley Adventures

Scavengers

Dark Descent

Buried Secrets

Deep Blue

Hurricane

Niki Finley Thrillers

First Shot

Second Best

Third Degree

Copyright © 2025 Bradley Wright

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead,

or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

UNCIVIL WAR/Wright & Dudycha

ISBN -

For Jon Dudycha

The first time we spoke years ago I had no idea it would lead us here. I couldn’t be happier that it did. I not only found a good writing partner, but a great friend.

To Brad

Thanks for coming on this adventure with me.

You’re a friend, mentor, and altogether wonderful human being.

Luck is a very thin wire between survival and disaster, and not many people can keep their balance on it.

Hunter S. Thompson

Monsters will always exist. There's one inside each of us. But an angel lives there, too. There is no more important agenda than figuring out how to slay one and nurture the other.

Jacqueline Novogratz

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

John: 3:16

Author’s Note

Uncivil War is a three novel series where you’ll follow two brothers into an apocalyptic mystery. What makes our story unique is that I, Bradley Wright, will be writing Jake Maddox’s story, and J.D. Dudycha will be writing Colt Maddox’s story.

The advantage this gives us as co-authors is that each brother will truly have his own unique voice, because the authors have theirs. We believe the stories of the different brothers are much more authentic because of the way we have split the storytelling duties.

As the reader, you get to see the story unfold from two different perspectives along the same timeline. Jake lives in Kentucky and Colt lives in Colorado. They both confront their own obstacles along the way while trying to fight their way back to each other. Each part in the novel is told in the individual brother's perspective, battling through a world that all of a sudden is nothing like it used to be. And neither are the people.

We hope you enjoy the ride. It has certainly been fun for us to write.

Prologue

Washington, D.C.

“What the hell is so dire that you dragged us to the PEOC in the middle of the night?”

President of the United States John Miller was disheveled. His silver hair was a mess, his clothes half on while hanging from his lanky frame, and his mind remained in the fog of sleep. The Presidential Emergency Operations Center, a bunker-like structure below the White House, was the most secure place to put the president on such short notice. He and his wife had been rushed there from their bed by secret service at the behest of George Armstrong, the secretary of defense.

“And what the hell are Jerry and Will doing here? What’s going on?”

The president was referring to Jerry Wesley, the director of the CIA, and Will Dunning, head of the FBI.

“Have a seat, Mr. President,” George said. “Please. We don’t have a lot of time.”

George was a broad-shouldered man, big by anyone’s standards. The gray in his hair matched his beard, and his uniform was finely pressed as always. There was fear in his voice. And he had a look of worry that President Miller had never seen his old friend wear before. It was hard not to fear the worst.

George picked up a remote from the table behind which he, the president, and the first lady were seated. The large television on the wall in front of them came to life. Jerry and Will looked on, standing against the wall behind them.

George cleared his throat. “Remember the outbreak we’ve been monitoring at the US Army base in Syria? The one that’s progressively gotten worse?”

The president let out a sigh of relief. “Good God, George, the way you all are acting I thought someone had shot off a nuclear bomb. Don’t bury the lead next time. Can’t we do this in the Oval Office? Can’t Melissa go back to bed?”

Though it didn’t seem possible, George’s face had grown even more worried.

“Fine, then, spit it out already. Yes, I remember the outbreak.”

George toggled something on the screen. “In the last forty-eight hours, sir—”

“Cut it out, George. Call me John. And can someone get me some coffee?”

A woman in the corner of the room made a move for the carafe on the table and began to pour coffee into a mug. “And who the hell is she? She cleared for this conversation?” the president said.

“John, I’ll introduce you in just a second. She’s the reason we all are in here. This is bad. Real bad.”

“Well all right then, get on with it.” The president rolled his hand, motioning for George to proceed.

“The last forty-eight hours,” George continued, “the same outbreak that has been getting worse in Syria has spread. John, it’s everywhere.”

“What do you mean it’s everywhere? The whole base caught it?”

“No, sir, every base caught it.”

The president’s face scrunched in confusion. “Every base? We only have one Army base in Syria. You okay, George? You feeling all right?”

“Not just the Army base, John. And not just Syria either. Every base, every single one we have in the entire world.”

“What?”

The room was quiet. George punched a couple of buttons, and a flat map of the Earth appeared on screen. Red dots were everywhere, all over the map.

The woman moved in and set a cup of coffee in front of both the president and his wife.

“John,” George said, “this is Doctor Emily Fraser.”

“Mr. President,” Emily said. “Mrs. Miller.”

The president simply nodded. He was still trying to process what George had started to say. Emily was a good-looking young woman, late twenties, her dark hair pulled into a ponytail. She was dressed in a business suit, the only thing left in her wardrobe fit for the occasion of meeting with the president.

George continued, “Emily was the doctor at the Army base in Syria who started working with the outbreak patients when this whole thing first started. I’ll let her explain as she knows more than any of us at this point.”

“Mr. President,” Emily started right in, “these red dots represent every US military base on the planet. And every single one of them has now reported an outbreak. They had all been warned to watch for symptoms, but most had full-blown cases before word even got around.”

“Word of what, again?” the president said. “What is this thing?”

Emily looked to the map, then back to the president. “We . . . We don’t know, sir.”

“Don’t know? Haven’t you been testing it?”

“We have. I’ve personally not stopped working on this since the first sign of it two weeks ago.”

“And?”

“And . . . we have never seen anything like it before.”

“Who’s we?” the president asked.

“Humanity.” Emily said bluntly. “No virus, no disease, nothing has ever been seen like this before.”

The president took a moment and looked up at the map. “And you’re saying that all of these military bases are infected with it?”

George interjected, “Most of them have gotten so bad they are no longer responding to our attempted communications.”

“Okay,” the president said, “so quit beating around the bush. It must be worse than just this if I am sitting here in the PEOC.”

Emily nodded to George. He hit a button, and a video began playing.

Emily said, “Sir, this is video from Fort Benning in Georgia. We have countless more videos just like this from other bases around the world.” Emily paused for a moment, then looked to the first lady. “Mrs. Miller, you might want to look away. I promise you, you can’t unsee this.”

The first lady held her head high, defiant. “I’ll be just fine, thank you. Go on.”

Emily gave her a moment to reconsider. When the first lady didn’t look away, Emily did as she was told and pushed play. On the screen in front of them, the video started in night vision, showing the sleeping quarters inside of an Army barracks. There was an open aisle running down the middle of a row of cots on both sides of the room. Before the president could ask what the problem was, the video showed the door farthest away from the wall-mounted camera bursting inward and people flooding inside. The soldiers sleeping on the cots sprang from their beds, but it was too late. Dozens of people rushed into the room, attacking them, the soldiers were overwhelmed. The glow of the night-vision camera didn’t pick up the gory details, but it was more than clear that whatever came into that room was tearing away at the soldiers’ throats—not just with their hands, but with their teeth.

“What the hell are we watching?” The president was appalled.

The first lady turned her eyes away. “Turn it off! For God’s sake, turn it off!”

The president said, “What was that? What were those things? I know they look like people, but clearly they aren’t. No human being would do that.”

Emily didn’t know any other way to say it, so she just stated the truth. “Their fellow soldiers, sir.”

“What?” The president turned to George. “What the hell is she talking about? What’s happening out there?”

George just looked down, hit a button that brought the map back to the screen, then looked over at Emily and gave a nod. She worked the remote in her hand, and multicolored dots filled the screen overlapping with the red dots.

“Those were infected soldiers who broke into those sleeping quarters and killed every last one of those men.” She looked back up to the screen. “These other dots you see here are the military bases of other countries all over the world. All have similar stories as the video you just watched.”

The president was flabbergasted. “I––I don’t understand.”

Emily walked over right in front of him. “Mr. President, we have some sort of pandemic on our hands, but it shows no signs of anything we have ever dealt with.”

“How . . . how do we fight it? Do we have any information on how to stop it? Anything at all? You were there, how are you not infected?” Then he turned to George, “How could you have brought her here? She could infect all of us!”

“Well, that is actually why I am here,” Emily said. “Several other bases that were able to report found the same thing I did. I along with three other soldiers at our base in Syria were not infected. And everyone who has been able to report around the world shares one thing in common with us. They all were on Beritrix.”

“Beritrix?” the president asked.

“A daily injection for the disease known as WD17,” Emily said. “Anyone like me who has this disease, we are stripped entirely of our immune system. Beritrix restores it completely and often puts one’s immune system in hyperdrive. About one percent of the world’s population has the disease, and there is no cure. As far as we know, Beritrix doesn’t do anything to reverse the symptoms when someone is already infected by whatever this new thing is. But I don’t have evidence to support that. Not yet. But it apparently works as a vaccine. At least for now.”

“Then let’s get word to our military to find more of it, fast, before it’s too late.”

There was a silence in the room. Everyone but the president and the first lady knew what George was about to say. They still didn’t understand the situation, but they understood how bad it was.

George said, “I’m sorry to tell you, it’s already too late. We no longer have a military to speak of. And neither does anyone else.”

“Dear God,” the first lady gasped.

“And I’m sorry to tell you even worse news—”

“Worse news? How can it get worse than . . .”

The president didn’t finish. He already knew how it could get worse.

“Sir,” Emily said. “All we can do is try to inform the people who aren’t infected to stay inside, which is already being coordinated. But it’s spreading so fast that those who aren’t already on Beritrix like me are in danger every moment they breathe. We have some here for you and are administering it to everyone we can at this very moment.”

The president could hardly speak. He looked over to George. “What are we talking about here, George? How bad is this?”

George had to keep his emotions in check. “John, it’s worst-case scenario. The infected could total over a billion before morning. The world as we know it will never be the same.”

1

Lexington, Kentucky

The crowd let out a roar that echoed across the little league baseball field. Another inside-the-park home run. The sun was high in the deep blue sky, a beautiful day in Lexington, Kentucky. As everyone applauded the young man who rounded third base and headed for home, Jessica Sanders and Jake Maddox were sitting on the bleachers, preoccupied in their own little world. She hooked her arm around his and hugged him.

“It’s so good to have you home, Jake.”

Jake gave her arm a squeeze and became lost in his own thoughts. Even though it was great to see Jess—he’d really missed her—and it was great to be back in his old stomping grounds, he felt bad he couldn’t say it was great to be home and truly mean it. Being back felt different than he’d thought it would. He knew he wasn’t the same man who had left for the Army ten years ago, but he was surprised things felt so different since his last visit home twelve months ago. It had been a hell of a year in Delta Force. Maybe that was why.

“You all right?” Jess asked as she patted his hand. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

Jake gave her a smile and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m fine. Just having a little trouble adjusting.”

“Yeah, my dad told me to be sensitive. Said he had a hard time being a civilian after serving so long. He told me to tell you that you can talk to him if you ever need to.”

“Thanks, Jess. But I’m fine. And unfortunately it doesn’t much matter if I adjust here or not.”

“I can’t believe they want you to come back so soon. I know being Delta Force is different, but you need time with your loved ones. With me.”

Jake could hear the emotion rising in Jessica’s voice. She looked away, and he could tell she was trying not to cry. Jake took a deep breath. He could hardly deal with his own feelings right now, and he certainly wasn’t equipped to help manage hers. He felt bad about it, but she knew what being in a relationship with him meant. His first duty was to his country. And right now all he could think about was getting back to it. Oddly enough, war felt more like home these days than Kentucky.

“There y’all are!” a man called from the bottom of the bleachers.

Jake had never been so happy to see his oldest friend. He loved Jess more than anything, but not knowing how to comfort her always made for an awkward moment.

Jake jumped up, ran down the bleachers, and wrapped Tyler in a bear hug.

“Good to see you, Jake.” Tyler patted Jake on the shoulder. “Good god, man. What did they do, carve you out of stone?”

Jake playfully slapped his round friend on the belly. “What’d they do here, mix you out of marshmallow?”

They both laughed. Jake looked back up at Jess, who was wiping away the tears to put on a brave face. He loved her strength. He just wished he could be what she needed him to be.

Tyler laughed. “Oh good, you’re still an asshole.”

“Wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” Jake brought back a smile.

The two of them beside each other was a comical sight. They couldn’t be more opposite. That was probably why the friendship had worked for as long as it had. Yin and yang, so to speak. It made for a lot of bickering, but since Jake’s brother Colt had moved to Colorado, Jake’s friendship with Tyler filled in for that brotherly love. Jake stood six foot three to Tyler’s five foot eight. Both weighed about 200 pounds, put together in two completely different ways.

“It’s good to see you boys back together again.” Jess came down the bleachers and gave Tyler a hug. The two of them had become close in Jake’s absence overseas. In high school they’d fought over him; later they had bonded over the fact that he was gone. “From back there, you all look like the number ten.”

Tyler scoffed. “Ha-ha. He won’t admit it, but I can still kick his ass.”

The three of them laughed. Jake was starting to feel better; Tyler made him feel at ease. There was some commotion across the field in the parking lot, but the three of them paid it no mind.

“I’m ready for a drink,” Tyler said. “Why are you all hanging out at a little league game? They don’t serve beer here.”

“My nephew’s playing and he wanted Jake to see him in action. As you can imagine, Jake is quite the hero to Brandon.”

“I guess,” Tyler said. “If you like the whole Captain America thing.”

The commotion was getting louder across the far side of the field. A lady in the bleachers next to them gasped and rose to her feet. “What the hell is going on over there? What is that?”

Jake turned to look, and at the edge of the parking lot out in left field someone was slamming his body continuously against the fence. Just running into it over and over again, like he was trying to plow right through it.

“Holy shit, what’s that guy’s problem?” Tyler said.

The man was huge. Even though this deranged man was far away, the left fielder was close enough to him that Jake could see that he was three times the kid’s size. He didn’t have a shirt on, and it looked like his pants were ripped to shreds. Jake took a step toward the chain-link fence that separated him and the field.

“What’s he doing?” Jess said. “Why is he just—”

Jess finished the sentence with a gasp. The crowd in the bleachers began to scream. Some were in shock, some shouting, trying to tell the left fielder to run. The man ran right through the fence. The entire left side of the outfield barrier collapsed under his feet, and he started sprinting toward the boy in left field. Jake made a move to hop the fence. He felt Jess grab his arm.

“You can’t go out there. What if he has a weapon?”

The screams became panicked. Jake turned back around just in time to see the man slam into the boy and tackle him to the ground. Jake ripped his arm away from Jess, pulled himself over the fence, and sprinted for the outfield. The boy was wailing in pain.

“Jake!” Jess shouted.

“Run!” Jake shouted to the rest of the players on the field. “Run! Get off the field!”

He sprinted past second base, and the closer he got to the man on top of the boy, the more the blood came into view. It was everywhere. The boy had stopped screaming, and the massive lunatic stood and turned toward Jake. Jake involuntarily slowed to a stop. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

The crowd of people rushed for safety, screaming at the top of their lungs, and running for their lives. But Jake didn’t see or hear any of it. All he could hear was his heart pounding inside his chest, and this . . . this thing, breathing wildly in front of him.

The man squared up. His eyes were black. But that wasn’t what terrified Jake. It was the pieces of the boy’s flesh hanging from the man’s mouth that shook his entire body. Out of instinct he reached for his sidearm. But the gun that always sat on his hip during combat wasn’t there in this civilian world. Slowly, Jake began to backpedal toward safety. Ten years of war overseas and he’d never backed down from anything. Two days back in the safety of his hometown and he found himself in the middle of his first retreat.

2

Jake turned and ran for the bleachers. He could see people running, but Tyler and Jess were frozen in shock. He looked back over his shoulder and the crazed man had started chasing after him. The boy lay motionless in the grass behind him.

Dead.

When he looked back toward the bleachers, Jess was waving her arms furiously, shouting something that Jake couldn’t make out amongst the screams all around her. He didn’t know what was wrong with the mountain of a man behind him, but Jake knew he was going to have to stop him before he could hurt anyone else. Jake’s mind was telling him to jump the fence and get the hell out of there, but his training forced him to scan the field for a weapon. He had his knife in his pocket, but he needed something that would take the man down without letting him get too close. He spotted a row of aluminum bats leaning up against the fence. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had.

He sprinted for them and picked one up.

“Jake, what are you doing? Get out of there!” Jess screamed from the other side of the fence.

“Run, man!” Tyler shouted. “Let’s get out of here!”

Jake turned, bat cocked back, and swung as hard as he could when the man was in range. The bat bounced off the man’s forehead with an awful thud, knocking him off his feet. It was a hard-enough blow––any other man would have been out cold. But it was clear to Jake that whatever it was getting back to its feet in front of him now was no longer a man at all.

“Jake, run!” Jess shouted.

Instinct kicked in when the man moved forward, and Jake dove at his waist for a double-leg takedown, tackling the thing onto its back. The monster fought wildly as Jake moved on top of it, mounting it and pulling a knife from his own pocket. As he simultaneously fought against the thing’s flailing arms and flipped the blade open on his knife, the moment he locked onto it’s coal-black eyes was one he would never forget. It was like staring into the dark of midnight, something entirely inhuman staring back.

Jake hooked his right arm forward, thrusting the three-inch blade into the thing’s neck. The sounds, the grunts, the wheezing coming from this monster were like no animal he’d heard before. He stabbed at its neck several more times, but the thing kept moving. He rose off it, his clothes covered in blood, and reached for the bat behind him.

“Jake! Are you okay? Jake!” Jess continued to shout.

Jake picked up the bat, and as the thing sat up he swung so hard its head nearly flew off when he made contact. Though the monster of a man fell to his back once again, he was still moving. Jake stood over him, watching as whatever it was continued to fight despite a shattered skull and gaping wounds in its neck. Jake pulled the bat high over his head and, as if he were chopping wood, he pounded down on its skull. Then he pounded down again. And then again, until there was no semblance of a skull left, and finally the thing stopped moving.

Jake dropped the bat and bent over, resting his hands on his knees. He could run twelve miles in full gear without getting winded, but right now he was drenched in sweat, his chest heaving for air. He looked back to the outfield where a man and woman were standing over the boy. The woman was sobbing, trying to get him to wake up. The man was doing his best to pull her away from the horror. Jake hung his head for a moment. His mind was numb. Nothing about what just happened made any sense at all. And he had no time to think it over either.

When he looked up at Jess and Tyler, chaos had broken out in the parking lot up the hill behind them.

“We’ve gotta go,” Jake said.

The two of them looked over their shoulders and watched as several more people—things—ran toward the crowd as they tried to leave the baseball complex.

“Now!”

Jake grabbed his knife and put it in his pocket, then picked up the baseball bat. He took one last glance down at the creature that he couldn’t help but think just might change the world forever. There was no time to ponder it. They had to move. He hurried over and picked up two more bats then jumped over the fence to join Jess and Tyler. He handed each of them a bat. Their car was in the parking lot atop the hill. Unfortunately, they were going to have to run right into the middle of all the chaos. It was their only way out.

3

For the moment, the path was clear to Jess’s Chevy Malibu. Jake scanned the parking lot and knew that if they didn’t move, their window would close in a hurry.

“Let’s go. Ty, you’re coming with us. Jess, just stay behind Tyler and jump in the driver’s seat as soon as we get up there. We don’t have long.”

On the outside, Jake was calm. That was his training. On the inside, however, his mind was racing, trying desperately to make sense of the mayhem around them. Though he had never seen anything like whatever it was that killed that boy, he couldn’t squelch a sense of familiarity. There was something about that crazed man he’d seen before. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. Up ahead, families were being chased out of the parking lot, which opened up a lane to Jess’s car.

“Go!” Jake shouted. “I’ll keep things clear till you can get the car started and then I’ll jump in!”

Jess and Tyler moved forward ahead of him. He scanned the immediate area, but the height of the SUVs made it difficult to see the area completely. The two of them made it to the car.

“Come on, Jake!” Jess shouted as she jumped in and started the engine.

Jake moved toward the car, but just as his hand hit the door handle, a woman’s scream a row of cars away made him recoil.

Jess rolled down the window. “Come on!”

But Jake couldn’t get in. Just on the left side of a Ford Expedition, a woman was trying to get her son in the backseat while one of the creatures snarled at her on the other side of the open door. It was attempting to get around the door to her.

“No!” the woman screamed. “No!”

“Mom, get in!” the boy shouted from inside the backseat.

The thing slammed into the open door between itself and the mother, and it knocked her to the ground. Jake sprinted for the SUV, and just as the monster dropped down to bite at the mother’s neck, Jake smashed its head, flowing with long blonde hair, with the tip of his baseball bat. As his swing knocked the deranged lady back, Jake pulled the mother away by her shoulders and kicked the thing in the forehead as it surged forward; then, before it could get back up, he stomped on its forehead and crushed its skull. A sickening crunch vibrated up his leg, and when he was sure the thing was no longer moving, he opened the front door for the woman and told her to get the hell out of there.

He didn’t stick around for the thank-you, because behind him he could hear another one growling as it ran toward him. As he sprinted for the car, Jess had the door ready and open for him. Over the back side of the car he saw two more inhuman humans running straight for him. He hurried around the door, and just as he shut it, the two things slammed against the trunk and clawed at the back windshield. Tyler screamed from the backseat, and Jake shouted, “Go! Go! Go!” as Jessica slammed the gas pedal to the floor, leaving the monsters behind and swerving around the one that had been running for Jake’s back. Two wild turns later they skidded out onto the main road, the madness growing smaller in the rearview mirror behind them. They were all huffing for air and searching their minds for answers.

“Is everyone okay?” Jake scanned Jess’s and Tyler’s bodies and faces. “Are you hurt?”

“Jake, what the hell just happened?” Tyler was in shock. “What the hell were those things, man?”

“Jake, what is going on?” Jess said. The fear in her voice was unnerving.

“I have no idea, you saw what I saw. You guys okay?”

“No, we’re not okay!” Tyler shouted. “We are in the middle of the zombie apocalypse. How could we be okay?”

Jess swerved around a couple cars moving slowly. “Is that what this is, Jake? A zombie apocalypse?”

Jake was quiet. His mind was needling at something. It was when his phone began to ring and he saw who was calling that it finally came to him what had been familiar about that madman on the baseball field. He had seen glimpses of it just before he’d left Syria.

“I’ve got to take this call,” Jake said. “This might give us some answers.” He slid his finger across the screen to answer. “Emily, what is going on out here?”

“Jake! You're okay!”

“I’m not sure about that, but we’re alive.”

“So it has spread to Kentucky. Damn it. There’s no containing this. You have to get to Washington as soon as you can.”

“No offense, Emily, but I barely just survived a parking lot. Much less a couple hundred mile drive.”

“You’ve still been taking your Beritrix?”

“You know I have. Is that what this is? This got out of the Army base?”

“No,” Emily said. “Well, yes and no. We didn’t leak it, but it spread somehow. We have no military left, and now it’s everywhere.”

“And the reason I’m not one of those things is the same reason you and I weren’t infected back at the base? Because we were on Beritrix?”

“Yes. At least that is the only explanation I’ve been able to find.”

Jake looked around the car. “Then why aren’t my friends infected?”

“They will be.”

Jake was quiet. He looked over at Jessica and behind him at Tyler again, then covered the phone. “You sure you all are feeling okay?”

Their faces were terrified, but they both nodded.

Emily spoke again. “You have to isolate yourself, Jake. It’s the only way to survive them. They will turn on you.”

Jake was incensed. “I’m not leaving my loved ones behind. They’re all I’ve got!”

“Jake . . .”

This time Emily went quiet. Jess made a couple more turns. They were getting close to Jake’s home.

“Emily?”

“How much Beritrix do you have on hand?”

“I always keep a two-week supply. Why?”

“I don’t recommend it, because you know how hard it is to come by, but you could inject them with it. I’m not sure if it will help since they may have to have been taking it for a while for it to work, but it’s either that or leave them. And I know it seems cruel, but leaving them might be the only way you survive.”

“I’m not leaving them behind. What else do we know about this, what this is . . . how to fight it?”

“We only—” Emily went away from the phone for a moment. “Jake, I have to call you right back. The president needs me. Be sure and answer when I call, okay?”

“The president? Emily, what the—”

“I have to go. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

Emily ended the call.

“Who was that?” Jess asked.

“Emily Fraser. She was the doctor at my Army base in Syria.”

Tyler scooted up between the front seats. “What did she say? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but before I left Syria there was an outbreak of some sort at the base. Everyone got it but Emily, me, and two other soldiers.”

“Is this because of that stuff you have to take?” Jess asked.

“It’s the only thing Emily could figure out for why we weren’t infected.”

“And these things were there? At the base?”

“No,” Jake said. “Well, yes, but not like this at this stage. Not that I saw anyway.”

Jess turned down Jake’s street and weaved around a couple cars that were stopped in the middle of the road.

“So what did she say? How bad is it?” Tyler asked.

“She said it’s everywhere.”

No one said anything as they pulled into Jake’s driveway. Jess put the car in park, and they sat there for a moment, gazing around the neighborhood. It was eerily quiet.

“I don’t like this,” Jake said. “Let’s get inside.”

Jess grabbed his arm, stopping him from getting out of the car. “What are we going to do, Jake? Are we in danger?”

“Looks like we’re all in danger. But I may have something that can help us at least for a little while.”

“You’re talking about the Beritrix?”

Jake nodded.

Jess shook her head. “But you need that to live.”

“Looks like you might need it to live too.”

“This can’t be happening,” Tyler said from the back.

Jess said, “Didn’t you just pick up a new shipment of Beritrix before the game?”

“I did. Tyler, it’s on the floor behind Jess. Grab it and let’s take it in. The dry ice is probably about gone and it has to be refrigerated.”

“Okay,” Tyler said. “But seriously, how is this happening?”

“Let’s just get inside. Call everyone you know and tell them to stay indoors and not to answer the door for anyone. Tell them it’s life-and-death.”

The three of them got out of the car and hurried toward the house.

Jess said, “I’ve got to make sure my sister and nephew made it home from the ballpark.”

Jake pulled out his phone and opened his contact list. “I have to call my brother.”

4

The house was quiet. Everything was quiet. Jake walked over to the window and lifted the shade. Dusk was working its way across the sky. There was zero movement out on the street. His mind still couldn’t comprehend the situation. How the world could go from harmony to chaos in a matter of days just didn’t make sense. And Emily had said there was no military left. Could it be a coincidence that whatever was happening here to all these people had started there? With America’s defense system? How was it even possible?

He pulled his phone from his pocket. Though it had been a while since he and his brother had been close, he had to warn him. Make sure he was taking the Beritrix too. Make sure he gave it to his family. The first thing Jake had done was administer a dose to both Jess and Tyler. He hoped it would be enough.

As he scrolled through his contacts to his brother’s name, the night Jake’s and Colt’s parents died flashed in his head. It always did when he thought of his brother. Colt had handled it a lot better than fifteen-year-old Jake. Much better, in fact, because Jake still hadn’t gotten over it. It was probably the reason he and his older brother had grown apart, which was still odd even fourteen years later. Before that, they had always been so close. Inseparable until that night. Colt had tried to reach out and help Jake with his grief, but Jake had been too stubborn, and it had cost him his best friend in the process.

He shook the sorrow from his mind and dialed his brother.

“Hello?” A young boy answered.

“Dylan? That you?”

“Hey Uncle Jake! What are––”

“Dylan I’m sorry I don’t have time to talk,” Jake cut him off. “I need to talk to your dad. It’s important.”

“But––”

“Now, Dylan!”

The line went quiet. Jake waited, and as he did, thoughts of what he was going to say spun in his mind. It wasn’t a conversation a person ever thought they would have, so there was no way to be prepared for it. There was no way to be prepared for anything that was happening for that matter.

There was a shuffling sound, and Colt finally answered, “Jacob. Long time, no talk.”

“Where are you?”

There was no time for pleasantries. Not that Jake had any to offer. But it was good to hear Colt’s voice. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he was truly home.

“Hello to you too, soldier.”

“Colt, are you with Anna and the boys?”

“Jacob, what the hell is going on? You sound like you’re hiding from a ghost.”

“Colt! Listen to me. Get Anna and the boys and lock up, don’t let anyone in or out until you hear from me again. There’s some sort of disease or something that has spread. Millions of people are already infected—”

“What are you talking about?” Colt interrupted. “What disease? You mean like the flu?”

“I mean like it’s airborne. And if you get it, you’re dead. But still alive. You—”

“Do you realize what you sound like?”

Jake couldn’t get the words out fast enough.

“Colt, would you just listen to me for once and do what I’m saying? Make sure you keep taking Beritrix. And make sure you give it to Anna, and keep giving it to the boys too. You hear me? It will keep you alive for now.”

“Jacob, where are you? What’s going on? It sounds like you’re talking about some sort of apocalypse. Walking dead, stay inside, give everyone Beritrix—”

“I know what it sounds like, Colt. You don’t think it sounds crazy to me too? But I just watched a man chew the Adam’s apple out of a kid’s throat right in front of me. I had to literally smash his brains in to stop him from doing the same to me. Get Anna and the boys to safety and lock everything up. Give them Beritrix, grab any weapon you can, and when I get more information, I’ll call you. Got it?”

Complete silence.

“Colt?”

Some rustling on the other end.

“Colt!”

Jake could hear Colt, but he wasn’t talking into the phone.

Then there was nothing.

“Colt! Colt, are you there?”

Jess and Tyler came rushing into the living room.

“Colt!”

He was gone. Jake stood staring blankly at the screen that read call ended.

“Everything okay?” Jess asked, giving him a caring squeeze of his arm.

“I don’t know.”

Jake took one last look out the window. The light was fading fast. So too was his hope that he would ever see his brother again.

Tyler tried to change the subject. “Looks like we’ve got plenty of food. For a few days, anyway.”

Jake snapped out of his trance and looked first at Tyler’s face, then to his stomach, which was stretching out his Star Wars T-shirt over the belt of his jeans. “Only a few days? You sure about that?”

Tyler smiled. “Ha-ha. That’s right. I’m fat. Still plenty of food, asshole.”

“So . . .” Jess took her time. “Now what?”

Jake had been forming a plan in his head. It was second nature. A Special Forces soldier is always adapting in his mind. It was no different here. Even though he’d flown halfway around the world to get a break from war, it seemed war had found him anyway. And he knew this battle would be the fight of his life. For now, though, it was just another mission. And every mission needed a plan.

“First and foremost, we need more Beritrix,” Jake said. “We don’t know how long this epidemic––or whatever it is––might last, so we have to be prepared.”

“How much Beritrix do you have?” Tyler asked.

“If this outbreak, or whatever it is, lasts more than a couple days, and with all three of us using it? Not enough.”

“What about weapons?” Jess asked.

Jake smirked, walked across the room, and opened the door to the basement.

“That’s one thing we don’t have to worry about.”

5

“Damn, you weren’t kidding,” Tyler said. His mouth gaped at the closet of weaponry Jake had been collecting since he’d joined the Army.

Jake picked up a hunting rifle.

“Yeah, I got a lot of it from my dad. He was nuts about weapons too.”

As Jake ran his hand along the wood stock of the rifle, a warm memory of his father teaching him and his brother how to shoot came to him. He could smell the wintergreen Skoal in his father’s mouth as his dad leaned over to show him how to lock in a fresh bullet. He could feel the dampness of the wet fall air, and he could even see the turning leaves falling to the ground in the distance the first time he looked through the scope.

“What is this?”

Tyler interrupted Jake’s thoughts, and he looked up to see his friend holding one of his favorites from his collection.

“A compact axe made by Winkler Knives. Custom steel with a Micarta handle. The best there is.”

“What’s the spike on the front of the blade for?”

“Combat.”

Tyler laughed. “Oh, combat. Yeah, ’cause lots of people buy spike-front mini-axes just in case the second civil war breaks out.”

Everyone glanced at each other, all understanding the irony.

It was a handheld axe, only a little over a foot in length, but sharp enough to split hairs. Tyler swung it once, then continued to marvel at it, looking it over as he turned it in his hands. “This is badass. But damn it’s heavy!”

Jake stepped forward and took it from his friend. “Yeah, best we leave this one for a man.”

“I suppose that’s you?” Jess asked with smile. She leaned over and gave him a soft kiss on the lips.

Jake’s smile faltered when he looked back at Tyler. “You grab that twelve gauge. It’ll kick, but I think you can handle it. Take that Chris Reeve knife over there too. Might come in handy.”

“What are we doing?” Jess sounded worried.

“What do you mean?” Jake said.

“Why are we equipping ourselves? You aren’t planning on leaving, are you?”

“Not tonight, Jess, but tomorrow we are going to have to find more Beritrix. We can’t sit around here and wait to turn into whatever those things are out there, can we?”

Jess turned and walked a few feet away.

“Look,” Jake continued, “I know you’re scared, but that doesn’t change what we have to do.”

Jess turned and gave him a stern look. “Jake, this isn’t the Army, and Tyler and I aren’t soldiers. Those things may not scare you, but they sure as hell scare me.”

Jake shook his head. “The thought of you becoming one of those things is what scares me. My brother, his family . . . your family. What do we do? Just sit here and wait to die?”

Tyler said, “Don’t you think they will fix it?”

“Who the hell is they, Ty? The military is gone. At this point the government will be in hiding, doing like we are, trying their best not to get sick.”

“What about that Emily whoever?” Jess said. “Isn’t she working on it?”

“Look,” Jake said, looking intently at both of them, “there’s nothing to work on right now. This came on too fast. When Emily first told me about it in Syria, she said it was like nothing we humans had ever seen. It could take years to—”

“Years?!” Jess was shocked. The fear on her face hit Jake hard. He had to remember that she hadn’t been through what he had. Hadn’t seen the things he’d seen, the horrors.

He walked over to her, tucked her dirty-blonde hair back behind her ear, took her jaw in his hand, and caressed her sharp cheekbone with his thumb.

“Listen, I don’t know what this is. And I don’t know how long, if ever—”

Jess started to turn away, but Jake took her by the shoulders and pulled her back to face him.

“I don’t know how long this will take to figure out, but I promise . . . Look at me.”

Her green eyes sparkled under the basement lights.

“I promise I’ll keep you safe. You hear me?”

Reluctant, she finally nodded. Jake turned to Tyler. “You too, shithead. Okay?”

Tyler nodded, and his dark curly hair wobbled atop his head.

“Shit! I forgot to get the Beritrix or whatever it’s called out of the backseat!”

Jess said, “No you didn’t. Jake just gave us some.”

“That was from what I already had in the house,” Jake said. “Damn it, Ty, I told you it had to be refrigerated.”

Tyler moved over to the stairs. “Calm down. I’ll get it. Get your girl some weapons. And no offense, but she’s gonna look smokin’ hot when she’s outfitted like Lara Croft.”

Jake and Jess watched Tyler bolt up the stairs as fast as a chubby, un-athletic, professional gamer could bolt.

Jess finally let a smile cross her lips as she shook her head. “He’s your friend.”

Jake smiled and nodded. Then he walked over and picked up his Beretta. “You know how to shoot a pistol, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t every good Kentucky woman?”

“That’s my girl.”

Jake handed it to her along with a spare magazine.

“Why the backpack?” Jess asked, pointing to the black one on the floor of the closet.

“It’s a go bag.”

“You say that like it’s supposed to mean something to me.”

“Sorry. Special operator thing. I keep a go bag ready for emergencies. There’s a few food packs, a box of shells for the shotgun, a box of bullets for the rifle, small med kit, and two spare magazines for my Beretta.”

“Oh, you know, just your basic everyday needs.” Jess smiled.

Jake laughed. “Yeah, exactly.”

From a distance both Jess and Jake heard someone shout. When they glanced at each other, they wore the same fearful look. It sounded like Tyler, and he sounded like he was in trouble. Jake kicked himself for letting Tyler go up alone. Jake ran for the stairs, axe in hand.

“Bring the pistol!” he shouted.

Jake ascended the stairs and sprinted for the front door. When he opened it, he was not prepared for what he saw. Moving in front of the last of the orange sunset were at least a dozen of the infected in the street. Jake looked to his left and saw three surrounding the car, Tyler standing on top of it. He was kicking at them and swinging the rifle, trying to keep them back.

“Jake! Help!”

“Shoot them!” Jake shouted.

“I can’t! If I don’t swing it at them, they’ll grab my foot!”

Jake took another look at the street. The infected seemed to notice Tyler shouting. They keyed in on his voice and began heading toward the car.

“Stop screaming! They can hear you!”

If Jake didn’t hurry, Tyler would be overrun. And he couldn’t let that happen. Jake tightened his grip on the axe and steeled his nerves. The fight had come to them quicker than he’d expected. But he was ready. His entire adult life had been preparing him for this.

War.

6

Just before Jake jumped into the fray, one of the infected, the fat one wearing a white tank and a pair of gray sweatpants, had finally gotten a grip on Tyler and yanked him by the leg to his ass on top of the car.

“Jake!” The fear in his voice was palpable.

Jake turned to Jess and pointed at the street. “Keep them off me if you can.”

“Go!” she shouted as she extended the pistol in front of her.

Jake spun the axe once in his hand and bolted down the front porch. From the two encounters at the ballpark, the only thing Jake knew for certain killed these things was making sure their brain could no longer communicate with the heart. That’s why when he brought the axe back the only place to swing for was the neck. And with one powerful blow, Jake severed the fat man’s head from his body like cutting through a wet piece of firewood.

Tyler was able to shake his leg free of the headless infected and stood back up on the car. He raised his gun to shoot, but Jake stopped him.

“Not the shotgun!”

“What? But more of them are coming!”

Jake front-kicked an infected woman in a flower print dress, creating some space to swing his axe. He hesitated for a moment. This was someone’s mother, maybe someone’s girlfriend or sister. How could this be happening? He couldn’t kill her. What if they find a way to reverse—

The infected woman cocked her head to the side, blinked, and stared at Jake for a moment. Her coal-black eyes felt like they were reaching inside of him. Pulling something from him. It was the oddest feeling he’d ever had. Was there more to these things?

The woman jumped toward him, faster than she should have been able to. Fortunately, Jake already had his axe in position to swing, and he jumped back as he whipped his arms forward, lopping the creature’s head clean off its shoulders. Then he turned 360 degrees and slid his blade through the throat of an infected man in a suit who was behind the infected woman in the dress.

“Go now, Tyler! Get in the house!”

Tyler slid off the roof of the car and bolted for the house. Gunshots ripped through the air from the porch. Jess was firing into the crowd of infected, trying to give Jake time to get back to the house.

“Stop shooting!” Jake heard a man’s voice shout behind him.

When he looked back toward the house, he watched a man dive at Jess and knock her off her feet.

“Help!” Just before Jake turned to help Jess, a young female voice shouted from the street.

Jake swung his axe once more, this time through the neck of a young man still wearing a bathrobe. He looked back and a man was holding Jess in his arms. She was fighting against his grip.

“Help me! Please!” He heard the young girl again.

He finally caught sight of her in the crowd of infected out on the street. She was backing herself into the wooded area across from the houses. Several infected were moving in on her, fast. Jake pulled his Beretta from the small of his back and fired six shots into the air. The noise froze the infected on the street, as well as the man who had a hold of Jess. Jake stared at him for a moment, but when the man’s glare moved beyond Jake to the street it focused him, and he turned to help the young girl.

“Jake, no!” Jess shouted from the house.

He had no time to look again; he raised his pistol and began firing at the oncoming infected. There were at least twenty of them now. The girl was screaming, which drew half of the infected to her. Jake shot two in the forehead who were running toward him. A sea of black-eyed monsters. Two shots rang out from behind him, dropping two more infected. Jake glanced back; the strange man had moved forward with him to help.

Jake fired twice more, two more infected dropped, and as he made it to the end of the driveway, he tucked his empty Beretta in his pants and began to swing away. The man behind him kept firing as they made a path to the girl, who was now pinned against a tree. She had dodged the infected as long as she could. The dying light was just enough to let Jake chop through three more infected, the last one being a man in a construction vest who was reaching for the girl. A bullet ripped through a crazed woman who had just grabbed the girl, and Jake scooped the girl up with his left arm. The fear in her eyes drove the reality of the situation even further home.

“Hold on tight!”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Jake made his way back to the house. The salt-and-pepper-haired man, who had only a moment ago tackled Jess, was now helping to clear a path for Jake and the girl. With only one free hand, Jake swung the axe, chopping off a reaching arm. The girl screamed. He swung once more, taking off the head of the body he’d just removed the arm from. The infected were closing in around the porch. He wasn’t going to make it if he couldn’t fight freely.

“Can you run?” Jake shouted to the girl he was holding.

She pulled her head back far enough to look at him, then to the porch that was only thirty feet away but was quickly becoming overrun.

“I promise I’ll keep them off you, but I need you to be brave and make a run for it. Okay?”

The fear seemed to deepen in her eyes. But she let go of her grip, dropped down out of his arm, and sprinted for the house.

The infected closed in.

They were in trouble.

7

“Go!” Jake shouted as he ran alongside the girl, trying his best to protect her.

The stranger who was helping threw his empty pistol to the ground, grabbed the shotgun that was strapped around his shoulder, and began blowing the heads off the oncoming infected. The girl ran up the porch toward the front door and Jess pulled her inside. Jake felt something smack so hard into his right side that it knocked him off his feet. The axe tumbled across the front yard about six feet away. He would have moved for it, but the infected man who’d run into him was clawing at his face. Jake used his Brazilian jujitsu training and shrimped out away from him, but the thing kept coming. He wrapped his legs around the thing’s waist and grabbed its wrists, holding it in place. With no limbs to come at Jake, it began snapping its jaws, its mouth only inches from him. Its black eyes glazed over like a great white hungry for prey.

Jake heard two more gunshots behind him, dug his feet into the hips of the monster, and pushed off as hard as he could, sending the thing flying backward. It quickly regained its balance and jumped back toward him, but just before it made it to Jake he heard a shotgun blast right behind him, and the infected man’s head disappeared into a pink mist. Jake scrambled to his knees, picked up his axe, and when he looked up to see the man who’d just saved him, he only had a split second to hurl the axe forward, the blade connecting with the head of another infected that was running for the man’s back. The man looked behind him, then back to Jake, then back to the thing as he watched it fall to the ground. He gave Jake a nod before removing the axe from the infected’s head, and both he and Jake hurried inside the house. Savage moans and ghastly shouts from the infected became the soundtrack outside.

Jess slammed the door behind them and immediately shoved the man who had just saved Jake’s life.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?! You could have gotten me killed!”

Jake grabbed Jess.

“Control your woman, son. Or I will,” the man said.

Jake didn’t hesitate. He turned, grabbed the man by the throat, and pinned him against the foyer wall. A flame of rage moved through him as if the man had never helped him outside at all.

“If you ever”—Jake was right in his face—“ever talk to her like that again, I’ll throw you out there with those things, and then once they turn you, I’ll chop your fucking head off. You hear me?” Jake shook the man against the wall.

“Please stop fighting. Please,” the girl said, cowering in the corner.

“Jake,” Tyler said, putting a hand on Jake’s shoulder. Then to the man pinned against the wall, he said, “Dude, I suggest you do what he says.”

Jake let go and the man immediately held his throat. He was as thick as Jake, hair buzzed, and looked like a silver-streaked G.I. Joe.

The man replied, “I save your life, and this is how you repay me?”

Jake stepped forward, and Jess jumped in between them. “Stop it, all right? We have enough to worry about.” She turned to the man, who was now standing upright, his chest jutted like a peacock. “You can leave now if you want. But I suggest we all stay together. The enemy is outside, not in here.”

Jake wasn’t surprised by Jess’s resolve, but his respect grew deeper by the second. He knew better than anyone that a person’s true character emerged during tough times. Jess was everything he thought she was and more.

The man took a step back and gave a sweeping look at everyone. “You can’t be shooting like that. It just draws their attention. War isn’t about who’s a better fighter. It’s about who’s a smarter fighter.”

Jake began to cool. “At least there’s one thing we agree on.”

The man scoffed. “What the hell do you know about war?”

Jake didn’t respond. He had nothing to prove to this stranger. He walked over to the girl. “Are you okay?”

She couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds soaking wet. Her blonde hair was stark against her tan face, and her deep blue eyes were wet with tears.

“I––I think so.”

Jess came over. “Where are your parents, sweetheart?”

The tears finally spilled over her bottom lids and flooded down her face. Jess took her in her arms and held her.

“You guys go secure the house. If we’re staying here tonight, I want to keep her safe.”

Jess looked over the girl’s shoulder and mouthed “give us a minute” to Jake. Jake turned back to the man who’d saved his ass.

Jake reached out his hand. “Jake Maddox. Delta Forces.”

The man’s demeanor changed entirely at hearing Jake’s military background.

The man gave Jake’s hand a firm shake. “Tom Jackson. US Marines.”

Jake dropped Tom’s hand. “I meant what I said. Fellow military man or not, you talk to her like that again, I’ll kill you.”

The man held Jake’s glare for a moment. Then he softened. “Won’t happen again, I was just angry. Calling all those infected over with noise was a mistake.”

“We understand that now. What else do you know?”

“This house isn’t safe. They’ll come through the windows. How come all of you aren’t infected?”

Jake looked around. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Don’t know. Was hoping to find someone who did.”

Jake motioned toward the pack on Tom’s back. “What’s in the sack?”

“Food, water . . . medicine.”

“That’s why you’re not infected. You’re on Beritrix, aren’t you?”

Tom was taken aback. “How the hell did you know that?”

“It’s the same reason we haven’t caught it yet.”

“I’ll be damned. The problem I’ve had my entire life saved me?”

“Looks that way.” Jake turned to Jess, who was still consoling the girl, and asked the girl the same question. “Are you on Beritrix too?”

The girl let go of Jess, dried her eyes, and shook her head. “I’m not on any medicine.”

Tyler instinctively took a step back.

Tom said, “Maybe she should go back outside.”

Jake shot him a look.

The girl began to cry again. “No, please don’t send me back out there!”

Jess hugged her as she gave Tom a death stare. “You aren’t going anywhere, sweetheart.”

“Tom might be right, Jess.” Tyler sounded worried. “What if she . . . turns?”

The girl’s face was wet with tears. “No! Please! I feel fine. Please don’t make me leave!”

Jake wasn’t sure what to say. Tom and Tyler had every right to be worried, but he couldn’t send the poor girl to her death. “It’s okay, you’re not going anywhere. What’s your name?”

“Amy.”

“How’d you get here, Amy?”

“I live just three doors down. My parents had me trapped in my room. I noticed them acting weird and then . . .” She started to cry again and couldn’t finish.

Jess said, “It’s okay, Amy. You’re all right now. How long were you trapped?”

“Since this morning.”

“That must have been scary. So your parents are like those things out there?”

Amy nodded, then pointed at Tyler. “I crawled out the window when I saw him standing on the car. I know it was dumb, but my own parents were trying to kill me.”

“It wasn’t dumb,” Jake said.

“Thank you for saving me.”

Amy broke Jessica’s hug, ran over, and wrapped her arms around Jake. Jake wasn’t used to affection from a teenager, so he didn’t really know how to react. He looked up and Jess motioned for him to hug her. He gave a one-armed squeeze and patted her on the back. Jess stepped in.

“Let’s get you some water, sweetheart. You must be thirsty. I’ll put this medicine in the refrigerator.”

Jake looked at Tyler. “You managed to get the Beritrix?”

Tyler looked proud. “Well yeah, tucked it all in my pockets when I saw them coming. That’s why I got trapped on the roof.”

“Good, so you aren’t a total liability.”

Tyler raised his middle finger.

Jess rolled her eyes and led Amy away to the kitchen.

“So how do we know she won’t turn and infect us all?” Tom asked.

“We can’t know for sure,” Jake said. “But in Syria the men exposed to the infected became sick in a matter of minutes. So there must be something we don’t know about her that is keeping her from becoming infected. She was in the house with her infected parents all day. If she were going to become infected, I think she would have already. Maybe something other than taking Beritrix can keep people from getting sick.”

“Well, I sure as hell ain’t a doctor, so I’ll be keeping my eye on her,” Tom said.

Jake thought of Emily in Washington. “We need to get her to someone who can run some tests. Maybe something about her can help us find a cure.”

Tom slid the pack off his back. “You said you were in Syria around this? What else do you know?”

“No more than you unfortunately. Except that our military is supposedly gone, and we are on our own. I have a contact in Washington who is with the president. They’re working on it, but it doesn’t look good. Maybe Amy, if she doesn’t get infected, can help shed some light on a cure. Or at least on a vaccine. That is, if there are any survivors by the time we get there.”

“That’s a big if,” Tyler said. “What are we going to do now?”

“This whole damn situation is a big if,” Jake said. “Our only strategy now is to survive the night. Then we’ll see what tomorrow brings.”

Right on cue, something shattered in the kitchen, and then they heard Amy scream.

8

Jake ran down the hall and into the kitchen with his axe at the ready. He fully expected to see one of those things climbing through the window, clawing at Jess and Amy. For the first time all day, he was pleasantly surprised when all he found was a glass jar broken on the floor.

Jake sighed. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Jess looked up from where she was cleaning up the mess on the floor. “Sorry, my hands are still a little shaky.”

Jake nodded.

His relief was short-lived.

Crash!

A window shattered in another room of the house. Amy screamed once again, and Jake darted toward the hallway.

“We’ve got company!” Tom shouted from the living room.

Jake rounded the corner in time to watch Tom drive a Bowie knife through the throat of the infected who’d gotten stuck in the windowpane. He ran to the window beside it, pulled back the shade, and nearly fell backward in shock when he took in the sea of infected that was now gathered outside the house. In the glow of the porch light, he was able to count dozens of heads. They were being drawn like moths to a flame.

“The lights,” Jake whispered unconsciously.

“What?” Tyler said.

Louder this time, he said. “The lights, they’re drawn to the lights. Shut them off, all of them!”

Jake pulled the shade closed. Tyler hit the porch light and the living room light. They were plunged in darkness.

“What do you mean they, Jake?” Tyler whispered. “How many of them are there?”

Jake stopped Tyler in his tracks, and in what little light glowed from the kitchen, he gave Tyler a look that frightened him. “Too many to count.”

If Jake could have seen the color in Tyler’s face, he would have been able to watch it drain completely.

Jake’s military instincts kicked in, and he took command of the situation. He had to see if the infected were encroaching on the back of the house like they were the front. If so, Jake and his friends were in serious trouble.

“Tyler, you take Tom to the basement and gear up. Tom, grab everything we need for a fight. A long one. I’ll be down in a second. Go!”

Another window crashed to the floor in the living room. Jake ran down the hall and into the kitchen, past Jess and Amy to the French doors that led out to the back deck.

“Jake, what’s going on? Is everything all right?”

Jake couldn’t answer. His words were stolen by the blank face staring at him in the back-door window. The soulless black eyes of another infected man stared back at him. Multiple infected were gathering behind them. They were trapped.

“Jake!”

Jake turned and ran for the cupboard on the opposite wall. He grabbed the insulated cooler bag, turned, and handed it to Jess.

“We’re trapped. The lights are attracting them.” He flipped the switch on the wall and the room went dark. He pulled out his phone and used the screen as a soft flashlight. “I need you to do everything I say, and do it right now. No improvising.”

Jess didn’t question him; she took the cooler by the shoulder strap and grabbed Amy by the hand.

Jake continued, “Get the Beritrix out of the fridge then put it in the cooler filled with ice. Keep all the lights off and don’t make a sound. Head upstairs and get up in the attic. Don’t make any stops in between. Pull the door up behind you. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

Jake walked over to the doorway. “And Jess . . . hurry.”

9

Jake left Jess to ensure she and Amy had a clear path upstairs. Another one of the infected was climbing through the window. Jake’s axe sliced through its neck, sending the head thumping against the hardwood floor. There were more lined up to come in behind the now headless woman, but her body was momentarily blocking them. Jake turned his phone back to the hallway in time to see Jess running up the stairs with Amy. They would be safe for now.

Crash!

They had left the kitchen just in time––a window had just caved in from that direction. Though every fiber of his being was telling Jake to run upstairs, right then he couldn’t leave Tyler and Tom by themselves in the basement. And if they were going to make it out of the house that night, he was going to need more weapons.

Jake didn’t wait to see what might greet him from the kitchen; instead, he made his way for the basement. He shut the door behind him and ran down the stairs. When he turned the corner, he was greeted by the ends of two shotguns.

“Shit, you scared us,” Tyler said. He and Tom lowered their weapons. “How’s it going up there?”

Jake moved past Tyler and picked up his go bag, then began filling it with boxes of nine-millimeter rounds, twelve-gauge shotgun shells, and all the .30 caliber rounds he could manage. After he stuffed it full, he put it on his back, attached his waistband holster for his Beretta, and threw his 300 AAC Blackout AR-15 build over his shoulder, ready for war. He’d never intended for his and his father’s collection of weapons to be used, but he couldn’t be happier now that he had decided to keep it when he joined the Army.

“You boys have everything you need?” Jake said.

“Only thing missing is night-vision goggles,” Tom laughed.

“Yeah, those didn’t make the collection.” Jake picked up the axe, slid it into the strap he had fitted to his go bag, and pulled his Beretta from the holster. He reached for the shelf beside him, picked up a silencer can, and fitted it to the end of his pistol. “But I do have one of these. They’re coming in through the kitchen and the living room. Let me do the shooting so we don’t draw any more attention than we already have. Only use your guns if you have to.”

Just as Tyler and Tom nodded, readying their shotguns, they heard footsteps above them. All three of them looked up in the direction of the kitchen first, then the living room directly above them. The sounds were coming from both sides of the house.

“Let’s go before it gets worse. We’ll hole up in the attic until we can figure a way out of here. I have to make a couple calls before something happens to the cell towers.”

Tyler’s mouth gaped. “You think it’s already that bad?”

“No idea. But if it’s spreading like this all over the world, things are going to stop working pretty damn quick.”

Tom nodded. “The power won’t last forever.”

“Which might be a good thing,” Jake said. He moved over to the foot of the stairs and flipped the switch off on the wall. “’Cause they seem to like the light.”

“We’re going up there with those things . . . in the dark?” Tyler said.

“Afraid so. Just stay between me and Tom. And try not to accidentally shoot me.”

Jake took the flashlight from the outside pocket of his go bag. Though the creatures were attracted to light, he had to be able to see what he was shooting at in order to safely make his way to the attic. There were more than one set of footsteps creaking the floors above them, but how many there were exactly was impossible to tell. He had to be ready for the worst. As he approached the closed door to the living room at the top of the basement stairs, he heard a thump. Something had banged into the door. It sounded like more infected had moved in. He paused for a moment to ready himself. He knew there would be no time for hesitation once he opened that door. How the hell he and Tyler had gone from watching a baseball game two hours ago to standing in his pitch-black basement with a total stranger, guns in hand, ready to push open a door into what seemed like some terribly cliché zombie movie scene just wasn’t computing. Even though he had seen the beginnings of this with his own two eyes with Emily back in Syria, neither of them had any idea it would grow into this. Whoever would have? This was madness. But it was also reality. And Jake knew that indulging the panic, relenting to the fear, and even what he was doing by dwelling on how they got here was a big mistake. They needed to do whatever it took to get to the attic unscathed. They could work on the next step after that.

One problem at a time was the only way they were going to make it.

Jake reached for the doorknob and gave it a turn. “Remember, don’t shoot unless you have to,” he whispered.

He didn’t wait for confirmation before brought his pistol to eye level and pushed open the door.

10

The first thing Jake noticed in his flashlight’s path when he pushed open the basement door was the back of someone’s head. It wasn’t anyone he recognized, so he squeezed the trigger and the body dropped in front of him. Though the round was silenced, it still made enough noise to get the attention of the four other infected in the room. They all turned toward him at the same time, and a cold chill ran all the way through Jake’s body. The first one on his left let out a hissing sound, and he swung the pistol toward her head and squeezed twice. Before her body hit the floor he’d swept the gun to the right and shot five more times. Three of the bullets found heads and he was able to move forward.

With his gun-hand resting on top of his left wrist, he held the flashlight parallel to the gun’s muzzle. He moved forward into the living room, the stairs just a few steps away on his right. He whipped the gun to his left and scanned the living room to make sure nothing would come up behind them. There were several infected trying to make their way through, but they had yet to make it inside. He turned to his right and surged forward, shooting twice at a man with black eyes that had made it to his end of the hallway from the kitchen.

It was then that the front door burst inward. Several of the infected must have been pressing against it, because they all poured in at once. Jake raised his gun to shoot, and Tyler and Tom followed suit. Their gunshot blasts filled the house, Jake’s ears instantly ringing. He squeezed the trigger several times, hoping to hit one or more of the half-dozen infected still moving through the door. He couldn’t tell if he’d been successful, or if it was the shotguns taking down the intruders. Either way, the sudden flood of infected from the front door drew all of their attention, leaving no one to watch what was coming from the kitchen.

“Ah shit! Get it off of me!”

Jake whipped his pistol to the left and his flashlight found a woman, her teeth sunk into the back of Tom’s right arm. Jake shot once, hitting her in the right shoulder, then his slide locked back––his magazine was empty.

“Tyler, watch the front door!”

Jake holstered his Beretta before he swung his AR-15 around from his back, and when Tom finally shook free from the woman and kicked her back against the wall, Jake shot until she fell limp to the ground, then fired several more times to take down the other three infected that had come around the corner from the kitchen.

This was an all-out war.

“Get to the attic! Now!”

Tyler didn’t hesitate and ran up the stairs at Jake’s instruction. Jake moved the gun back to the front door and shot several more times, until nothing was left standing.

“Go, Tom! Go!”

Tom took one last glance in the direction of the kitchen. For the moment the coast was clear. He ran past Jake, who backpedaled to the top of the stairs. The carnage of bodies on the floor below him was staggering. These were people. Maybe not when they had come through the windows and the doors of his house, but at one time they had been just like him. Living, breathing, human beings with lives, friends, and families. Jake’s brother Colt flashed in front of his eyes. He hoped his brother had heeded his warning and taken the proper precautions. He could only imagine the fear his nephews would feel if they saw one or more of these things coming at them.

Jake looked to his right, watching Tyler and Tom disappear into the ceiling as two more infected rounded the hallway from the kitchen. They didn’t immediately run for the stairs, so Jake decided to save the ammo and made his way up the ladder into the attic. Jess was there to pull the ladder up into the ceiling and shut the attic door. She had lit a candle at the middle of the room, and the soft orange light shone over the five of them. The adrenaline was still coursing through Jake’s veins, and it took him a moment to calm his breathing.

“Get the first aid kit,” Jake said through still-labored breaths.

Jess looked at him, concerned. “Are you hurt?”

Jake nodded toward Tom, who had just removed his shirt. Blood dripped from his elbow and soaked through the shirt as he held it against the wound.

“It bit him. One of those things bit him!” Tyler called out as he moved away from Tom.

“It’s not that bad. I’ll be fine,” Tom said.

“It’s not the bite I’m worried about, man. It’s what happens to you in the next five minutes that I’m scared of.”

“Tyler,” Jake said. He knew what his friend was alluding to. “We don’t have any idea how this thing works. Just because he got bit doesn’t mean he’ll turn into one of them.”

Amy threw her arms around Jess. The thought of being trapped in the attic with one of those things clearly frightened her. Jess held her close and made an effort to comfort her.

“It’s okay, Amy, Jake is right. We don’t know that a bite means anything.”

Jess looked over at Jake. Her face said that she didn’t really believe her own words. She was scared too. Jake didn’t have any idea what a bite meant either. He had seen all the same movies everyone else had. And in almost every one of those movies, a bite meant you were going to turn. This wasn’t a movie, and he didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but it certainly was concerning. He stayed quiet for a moment.

Tyler didn’t.

“Hell with that, he can’t stay up here with us. He turns, we are all dead. Jake, we can’t risk it!”

Tom picked up his shotgun and pointed it at Tyler. “You can try to make me leave.”

Jake stepped forward. “Tom, put down the gun. Tyler, shut your mouth. Nobody is doing anything rash right now.” Jake turned his attention to Tom. “You feel fine don’t you?”

Tom had yet to lower the gun. “Just a little pain, nothing else. I told you I’m fine.”

Jake turned to Tyler. “See? He’s fine. Move over to the other side of the attic if it makes you feel better. But in the meantime, no one is going anywhere.”

“But what if—”

Jake held up his finger. “Ty, that’s enough.” Then to Tom, he said, “Put the gun down. Let Jess take a look at your arm.”

Tyler let out a breath and walked as far away from Tom as he could. Jess peeled herself from Amy to grab the first aid kit and have a look at Tom. Amy rushed over and wrapped her arms around Jake. He could feel her trembling. Jake looked down at Amy, then up at Jess. Jess had to once again coerce him to console Amy. He awkwardly rested his arm on her shoulder and gave her another pat on the back. His phone began to ring, saving him from having to come up with any consoling words that he felt would surely miss their mark.

Jake took the phone from his pocket. “It’s my brother. Let’s hope he has better news than we do.”

11

“Jacob, you got my message? What the hell is going on?”

Jake didn’t even get the chance to say hello before Colt started in. His tone held fear. It was the first time he’d ever heard that emotion from his brother. Even when Colt had broken the news that their parents had died he hadn’t sounded this shook up. Something terrible must have happened.

“Is everything okay? Anna and the boys? Are they all right?”

There was silence. All Jake could hear was the hum of a pickup truck in the background.

“Me and the boys, we . . . we just left the house.”

“And Anna?”

More silence. Jake took the phone away from his ear for a moment. He had only met Anna twice, but both times it had been immediately apparent she was Colt’s better half.

Jake tried to lead the conversation. “She was infected?”

“Yes.”

“Shit, Colt.”

“What are these things, Jacob?”

“I’m not sure. It’s spreading like a virus, but . . .”

Jake didn’t really know what his own “but” was leading to. He supposed it was the fact that it had all started with the military that had him confused. If this was just some sort of out-of-control virus, why had it started in such a controlled way? The military first? That couldn’t be a coincidence. But he still wasn’t sure what it meant.

“But what?” Colt prompted.

“It’s just strange, is all. How the whole thing started.”

“You know how it started?”

“Doesn’t matter. All I can tell you is I know a doctor who is in DC with the president right now. She said our entire military is gone. And not just ours, countries all around the world are reporting the same thing. That their armed forces were infected first.”

Colt took a minute before he responded.

Jess was doing her best to clean up Tom’s wound.

Colt said. “So, what? This is a terrorist attack? Bio-chemical warfare that turns people into . . . zombies? That doesn’t make any sense. What good would that do the terrorists if the entire world was infected?”

It was a good question. Colt was right, it wouldn’t do anyone any good. Terrorism is used to push an agenda to the masses. What good is an agenda if everyone is dead?

“You’re right, it doesn’t make sense. But maybe something went wrong. Maybe whoever did this didn’t mean for it to have the effect that it did. Or didn’t mean for it to spread this wide.”

“How widespread is it?”

“Wide as it goes. Right now I’m holed up in an attic, surrounded by the bastards. Where are you?”

“We just left the house. I might stop by the neighbors and make sure everyone is all right. After that . . . who knows.”

Jake didn’t know either. He supposed the plan was ultimately getting to Emily in Washington, then trying to figure out how the hell to survive this thing. That didn’t help him with what to tell his brother. From Lexington, Jake was only about an eight-hour drive to Washington. But Colt being in South Park, Colorado, meant he had a twenty-six-hour drive or so, and that was if he didn’t stop. There are quite a few major cities along the way too. They could all be absolutely overrun at this point which would make the trek even longer if he stayed to the back roads.

Jake heard a beep, and when he checked his phone’s screen, he saw that Emily was calling.

“Colt, my contact in DC is calling. I have to take it. We are going to do our best to get to DC and try to figure this thing out. I know it’s a long way for you, but I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Listen, little brother. The power could go anytime, cell service too. I suggest you find an old CB radio somewhere. I’m sure that’s the way the government will have to contact everyone. Might be the only communication soon. We’ll do our best to get to DC, but that’s a lot of road. Not sure what we’ll run into.”

“Be careful, Colt.”

“You too, Jacob.”

Jake switched over to Emily’s call just before it stopped ringing. “Emily, you there?”

There was a helicopter in the background. Wind was swirling, making it hard to hear.

“Jake!” Emily had to shout over the noise. “Jake, I don’t have long. We are moving everyone, including the president, to the Mount Weather Emergency Operations Center in the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia. I’ll text you the address. Can you hear me!”

“I hear you.”

“What?”

“I hear you!”

Everyone in the attic jumped when Jake raised his voice.

“Jake something’s not right!” Emily continued to shout over the helicopter’s rotors. “These . . . infected . . . they’re changing. Evolving. This is more than just a virus. I have to go now, but I will call you when we land in Virginia. You need to get to Cincinnati. There is a scientist there, he could be on to something. Says he intercepted a possible conversation or transmission. We are going to send a helicopter to pick him up, but it will be a few hours. You need to get to Cincinnati now so they can pick you up before they leave for Mount Weather too. I’ve got to go. Get to Cincinnati. I’ll text you the address of the scientist, but he’s at the University of Cincinnati’s Department of Research. Apparently the university is swamped with these things and he can’t get out. He’s holed up in the basement there. He wanted to elaborate, but I had to go. Jake get—”

The line went silent.

“Emily?”

He looked at his phone and saw the call had been dropped.

“Is your brother all right?” Jess said.

Jake shook his head. “His wife was infected.”

Jess finished dressing Tom’s wound and walked over to Jake. “I’m sorry. Are the boys okay?”

She kissed him on the cheek.

“As good as you can be when your mom is a zombie and the world is ending.”

Jake knew he shouldn’t have said it as soon as it came out of his mouth. Amy immediately began to cry. She’d lost both of her parents and was in a room full of strangers. It couldn’t get much worse than that.

Jess moved over and took Amy in her arms. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’re going to take care of you. I promise.”

There was some noise below them now. The infected had made it upstairs.

“What did Emily say?” Tyler said.

“Something about this being more than a virus. Not sure what she found out, lost the call. Either way, we have to go. We have to—”

“Go?” Jess stood and turned to face Jake. “How the hell are we going to go anywhere? You hear those things below us. We’ll blow through all our ammo just getting downstairs.”

Jake walked past Jess over to the dormer window that looked out across the street. He opened the window and started to climb through.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jess walked up behind him. Amy and Tyler filed in behind her, but when Tom started to walk over, Tyler backed away.

Jake pulled himself through and stood on the slant of the roof. “Trying to find another way out of here. We have to get out of here. Now. It’s our best chance at making it to Cincinnati before we miss the helicopter the government is sending for the scientist.”

“And you think we can make it off the roof? So what if we can? Then what? We are just putting ourselves back down right in the middle of those things.”

Jake ignored her and turned his attention toward the street. There wasn’t time to think of ways this wouldn’t work. He had to find a way that would. There was still a crowd of infected just below him at the front of the house. He assumed it would be the same on the other side of the pitched roof. Jess was right, jumping down into those things would be suicide. So the only way to get down safely would be if they were all gone. Only way to make that happen was to get the infected to go somewhere else.

12

The helicopter lifted off from the front lawn of the White House. Emily tried for the third time to get her phone to power on, but the battery had finally given out. She didn’t have the chance to text Jake the two addresses she’d promised, but she would reach Mount Weather before he would get to Cincinnati. Jake was smart, he would easily find UC’s campus without her directions. She just hated that she hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye.

For the first time since the madness had begun, she felt she could finally take a breath. She paused for a moment to take in the chaos below. She felt as if she were in a dream. And not a good one. The last twelve hours had been more like the worst nightmare one could imagine, but there wouldn’t be the freeing moment of waking from it to offer relief. Though it didn’t seem it, all of this was actually happening. And that was never more apparent than from her seat looking out the helicopter’s window.

Just to make it to the helicopter with the President and the first lady, the Secretary of Defense, and the heads of the CIA and the FBI, they first had to don gas masks. Then they were led out of the White House by a full military detail, all equipped with fully automatic weapons, which they used to keep the infected at bay as they relentlessly kept coming for the helicopter. If that wasn’t enough, several explosions nearby lit up the night sky, a chorus of booms and fireballs made up the soundtrack to the terrifying scene.

Now, as she looked down at Washington DC on fire from the safety of the helicopter, it was sinking in that Emily was literally watching the world coming to an end. The worst part was that she didn’t yet know if she was one of the lucky ones or not. On the surface one would think it couldn’t be confused. But if the world was ending and she was one of the less than one percent to survive, would life even be worth living? Maybe succumbing to the virus, or whatever was going on down there, was actually the most fortunate thing. So one wouldn’t have to watch the entire world die.

Emily took her eyes from the window. She just couldn’t watch anymore. She looked around the softly lit cabin as the rest of the high-profile passengers were being given the thumbs up to remove their masks. All of it was so surreal. She didn’t belong in this helicopter. Who the hell was she? A doctor, that’s all. Lucky––or unlucky––enough to be the one that got the first look at what was happening. That was the only reason she was there. Not because there was a single thing she could do for anyone going forward. She couldn’t even help her only family member, much less help save the world. She dialed her sister’s phone at least a hundred times that day. Not once did she pick up. And even though her sister shared her condition, the one that kept Emily from getting whatever was going around, she knew in her heart that there was no way Diane would be able to survive all of this. Not by herself. Emily couldn’t help but feel guilty. Here she was alive on this helicopter while her sister was most likely mindlessly running the streets looking for blood. Was it even her sister at all anymore if she had become infected?

So many unknowns.

The only thing she knew for certain at that moment was that she was happy Jake was still alive. She had no idea if the night they’d spent together in Syria meant to him what it meant to her, but the feeling of him holding her long into the night hadn’t left her for a moment. Of course she knew he had a girlfriend. He spoke of Jessica often. And even though he’d told her that night had been a mistake, that he loved Jessica, she couldn’t help but hope that somewhere in the future they could have a chance to be together again. In a day where all had gone to hell, a thought like that might be enough to give her hope.

“Emily. Emily can I have a word with you?”

Emily snapped out of her trance when President Miller tapped her on the arm.

“Sorry to bother you, Emily.”

“Not at all. Just trying to steady myself.”

The president leaned in. “Were you able to make any more contact with the professor in Cincinnati?”

“Only text messages. He was afraid actually talking on the phone would attract the infected.”

President Miller nodded. “Any clarification?”

Emily turned toward him fully. Still dazed that she was staring at the face she had seen so many times on television. The face that ran the most powerful nation on the planet.

“Mr. President, to be honest, the guy could be a complete lunatic.”

“Granted. Panic may very well have driven him crazy.”

“But his first call to the DOD was before all of this broke out. So maybe there is something to it.”

“That’s my point. Do we know what exactly his claim is? Other than he can talk to aliens?”

Emily cleared her head.

“From what I can gather, he isn’t claiming to have spoken to any aliens. He just says that in research of one of our satellites, he came across something that resembled a conversation.”

“Conversation?” The President was visibly leery.

“Right. But not in a language he could decipher. That is why he said it wasn’t human.”

“Okay. Well if it wasn’t human—however one could determine that—or wasn’t a language he could decipher, how the hell could he tell it was a conversation?”

“The cadence.”

“The cadence, Emily?”

“He said it was something about the rhythm of the sounds. Two distinctly different tones, sounding in a back-and-forth manner, just as you and I are doing now.”

President Miller sat back in his seat. For a moment the cabin was filled with only the sound of the rotors. Everyone else was trying to get some sleep. None of them had had a minute of it since Emily had made it to the White House.

The president leaned back in. “Sounds crazy. And yesterday I would have dismissed it immediately. But with the things I’ve seen today? Things I would never have imagined being witness to? Well, you made the right call telling him we would send a helicopter for him. No way we can dismiss anything at this point. Get some sleep. We’ll need the best of all of us to try and figure out what to do next.”

Emily nodded and leaned back in her seat. The president was right, she did need some sleep. But with thoughts of Jake battling his way through the end of the world out there, through God only knew what sorts of evils, that sleep would never come.

13

Jake brought the scope on his AR-15 to his right eye. There was a row of houses that extended to his right for a couple of blocks across the street. Several streetlights dotted the neighborhood, and as far as he could tell, they had attracted the attention of almost all the infected in the area. In the distance, he noticed a few balls of fire around the city. Everything looked like it was going to hell, fast. Those flames were too far away to draw the attention of the infected in his neighborhood. But maybe if he could create a fire down the street, that would be enough to get them moving. He already knew they were attracted to light and sound. An explosion would seem to be a perfect draw for the bastards.

He moved the scope down the street a few houses on his left and noticed an RV sitting in a driveway. That would be big enough to fit the five of them and still have room for supplies. He aimed the scope in the opposite direction. A couple hundred feet down the street, there were two SUVs parked side by side in the same driveway. If he could hit the gas tank on one of them, both would probably blow. That might buy them the couple of minutes they needed to get to the RV. Problem was, what if there were no keys inside?

Jake knew what he had to do, and he also knew Jess wasn’t going to like it. He walked back over to the window.

“Tom, can you come out here for a minute?”

“Tom?” Tyler spoke up. “What the hell do you want him for? Let me help you strategize.”

“No offense, Ty, but just because you’ve seen Game of Thrones thirteen times doesn’t exactly make you a master strategist.”

“But I—”

“Call of Duty doesn’t count either.”

Tyler hung his head. Tom rounded the window and Jake helped him through.

“What’s on your mind?” Tom asked as he balanced on the slanted roof and looked out over the city.

“See those explosions out there? They gave me an idea.”

“Okay. I’m assuming you want to create a diversion.”

“That’s right. How’s your distance shooting?”

“Been hunting deer since I was a kid. If it ain’t moving, I can hit it.”

“Perfect.” Jake pointed to his left. “I’m going to go make sure that RV has a key and the battery isn’t dead.” He moved his finger to the other side of the neighborhood. “See those two SUVs?”

“Yeah.”

“If the RV is in working condition, I’ll give the signal. You blow those SUVs. If these things go running for it, I’ll drive over and we can jump down on the roof and get the hell out of here.”

Tom shifted from looking down the street to Jake. “Well, that all sounds great, soldier. But how the hell are you going to get to the RV without a distraction?”

Jake didn’t hesitate. “Carefully.”

“I suspect so. Mighty brave of you. Might just work too. But you think your pudgy friend in there can make the jump to the RV?”

Jake smiled. “He won’t have a choice.”

Tom nodded.

Jake started to hand Tom the AR-15.

“Let me get my rifle. I’ve been using it for years. No sense taking a chance.”

Jake nodded, then he followed Tom back inside the attic. The noise below them had grown even louder.

“So?” Jess walked up. “Did Tom talk you off the ledge?”

Jake replaced the empty magazine in his Beretta as he explained the plan.

He was right. He’d known Jess wouldn’t like it.

When he finished explaining, Jess still wasn’t convinced. “You’re crazy. You can’t go down there alone with those things. You’ll never make it!”

“What other choice do we have, Jess?”

Jess huffed and put her hands on her hips. “What happens if there’s no way to start the RV? Then what? That’s if you can even make it past those things to get there in the first place.”

Jake hadn’t really thought about it, because to him it didn’t really matter. He had to go see if it would run. No way they all could fit in Jessica’s car. The trunk couldn’t hold their bags and weapons even if the five of them could squeeze in the car.

“I’ve gotta say, Jess.” Tyler walked over. “You’re bringing a lot of negativity to the group right now.”

“Shut the hell up, Tyler. Are you going to help Jake across the street?”

Tyler raised an eyebrow. “See? Negative. Just sayin’.”

“All right, all right,” Jake said. “We don’t have time for this. I will make it to the RV. And if it doesn’t start, I’ll find an SUV, or a van or something. I have to. We have to make this work. We don’t make it to the helicopter in Cincinnati, this journey gets a hell of a lot longer And if we have to go by car it will be much more dangerous all the way to Virginia, too. I’d rather take some chances now to try and avoid a more difficult situation later.”

Jess’s face held trepidation in the orange glow of the candle. She was beautiful even when she was skeptical. “And you think that just because this . . . woman you knew from Syria says there will be a helicopter that it’s automatically going to be there?”

“If Emily says it will be there. It will be there.”

“And just how well do you know this woman, Jake?”

Tom interrupted the impending awkward situation. “This isn’t really helping us. Let’s save the jealous rant for the car ride to Ohio, shall we?”

“Fuck you, Tom.” Jess took two steps toward him. “You don’t know me or who I am, so just mind your own damn business.”

Tom didn’t back down. “Whether I like it or not, getting all of us out of here is my business now. And your relationship insecurities are nothing but a distraction—”

Amy stepped between them. “Please stop fighting! They’ll hear us!”

Everyone was quiet for a moment. The only sounds were Jess’s labored breath, and the movement of the infected on the floor below them. Jess shook the anger from her face and put on a smile.

“Amy, honey, those things can’t get up here. I promise.” Then to Jake, “Do what you’ve got to do, but I’m going with you.”

“The hell you are, Jess. I’m not putting you down there with those things until I can distract them.”

“But it’s okay for you to go?”

Tyler spoke up. “Jess, at least Jake has training. Maybe not against zombies, but he’s Delta Force, for God’s sake. You’ll only slow him down.”

Jess was quiet.

“Fat boy is right,” Tom said. “Jake is as qualified as anyone on the planet.”

Tyler gave Tom the finger.

Jake pulled back the slide on his Beretta to put a bullet in the chamber, then holstered it. He removed his go bag and his AR-15 and handed it to Jess while he kept his axe with him.

“You guys gotta be ready to move when Tom blows the SUVs. We’re only going to have one shot at this.”

Jess moved in and gave him a long hug. When she pulled away there were tears in her eyes. “We’ll be ready.”

Jake kissed her on the lips then exited through the window. He turned around and ducked his head back inside. “Tom, you know what to do. Tyler, help Jess with my stuff and Amy. And whoever is the last one out, tip the candle over. If there are any of these things left inside . . . let’s burn the mother fuckers.”

14

Jake backed away from the window and walked over to the left edge of the roof. There, he could see the front and side of the house. There were several infected still trying to make their way in through the windows. Emily had said that they were evolving. He didn’t know what she’d meant by that, but they certainly weren’t evolving here at his home. The front door was wide open and they were still climbing over each other at the windows. However, the side of the house was clear.

He walked up to the top of the roof’s pitch to see if he could get a look at the back deck, but he couldn’t see it without going all the way over. There were a couple of straggler infected out in the street between him and the RV. He would just have to manage them, because shooting them would be too loud and draw unwanted attention. He crouched and walked to the edge of the roof. It was about a fifteen-foot drop. It certainly wouldn’t kill him, but it might do some damage to a leg. The pine tree just below him on the side of the house was going to be his best bet.

Jake tossed his axe down to the ground at the foot of the tree. He then grabbed hold of the roof just above the gutter with both hands and lowered himself down. Dangling, he took the top of the tree in between his feet and squeezed. All he could do was drop on top of it and hope it held his weight.

It didn’t.

As soon as his body hit the tree, the top half of the trunk snapped and he crashed onto his back to the ground. It knocked the wind out of him, but that wasn’t his concern. The tree breaking and him crashing through it was loud. Too loud. As he sucked in air to try and refill his lungs, he grabbed the axe and pulled himself up against the aluminum siding of the house. He snatched up as many branches as he could and covered himself with them, just getting them in place before he heard something walk around the corner.

The infected had heard him fall.

Jake froze, but he still needed air, and his back was aching. He didn’t feel like he had broken anything, but that wasn’t helping him find a breath. He did his best to take small breaths in through his nose as quietly as he could. Branches cracked underfoot; something was moving on the other side of the now half tree. Jake’s chest was burning. His body was begging for air. But the infected had now come to a stop, and another one had just rounded the corner of the house. It was a woman. For the second time since all of this had started, he wondered who that infected woman had been before she became a monster. Had he met her somewhere before? Maybe seen her at the grocery store? Why was he having these thoughts? Was he light-headed? He had to breathe, and with that he knew he was probably going to blow his cover.

Jake couldn’t hold out any longer. He sucked in a long breath through his mouth, blew it out and sucked in another. The feeling was almost euphoric. Like he’d been at the bottom of a pool for far too long and he’d just surfaced. The euphoria was short lived. The woman on the other side of the tree heard him. Jake acted fast and he sprung from his cover and hacked at the thing’s leg. It lunged forward as if he hadn’t even made contact. He moved to his left to avoid its snapping teeth, shoved it off to the side by its shoulder, did a 180 spin to bring the axe around and hack at the neck of the second infected, shook the axe free, turned back in the direction of the woman, and slammed the blade down into her forehead. The sound it made was a wet, sickening thud. He removed the blade from her skull and turned just in time to front kick the still-advancing infected man with half a neck, and then he baseball swung the axe to finish the job. The half-dead man’s head thumped against the grass, and a second later his still flailing body did the same.

Jake spun around a couple of times, axe at the ready, feeling like at any second one more of those things would grab him. But for the moment, he was alone at the side of the house. His arm was wet with blood, and his lungs were still playing catch-up after the fall from the roof.

A whisper came from above and Jake nearly jumped out of his skin.

“You okay down there, son?”

It was Tom.

Jake let out a sigh of relief. He looked up at the roof and could barely make out Tom’s figure against the clouded night sky. “I’m fine, just be ready. I’m going for the RV now.”

“Copy that.”

The thought of the helicopter leaving Cincinnati without them flashed in his mind. That’s all he needed to sprint forward, then make a left toward the RV that was about four houses down. He stayed close to the front of the neighboring house, as far away from the road as he could. There were two infected walking lazily toward his home. They seemed not to notice him. He glanced back over his shoulder. No infected on his heels. The clouds had cleared overhead, and the moon rested behind Tom’s silhouette that stood watch on the slanted roof. He could just make out a head protruding from the dormer window. Jess.

Jake remained in the shadow of the neighboring homes until he drew parallel to the RV across the street. He wasn’t a religious man, but before he crossed the road, he sent up a silent prayer to anyone who might be listening that the RV would please start. There was no backup plan. This was it.

He waited for the last of the infected moving in the road to pass, then darted across the street. He made it to the RV’s door. Though there wasn’t much light, it was clear that it must have been brand new. If he could get this thing to run, they’d hit the jackpot. Another silent prayer passed his mind as he placed his hand on the door handle and gave it a tug. He then slowly lowered his forehead to the driver’s-side window in disappointment.

The door was locked.

15

Jake walked around to the front of the RV and crouched for cover so he could take a minute to think. He couldn’t let the locked door stop him. This was really the only way all of them could make it out of the neighborhood. Sure, he could take the time to check every large SUV on the block, but there weren’t that many to begin with, and he was already here. He looked over his shoulder at the house. The keys would have to be inside there somewhere. The problem was, something else might be too. Either way he had no choice; he had to get the keys.

Jake walked around the back of the house, peeking around the corner to make sure it was clear. He moved on when he didn’t see any infected lingering there. Maybe he just had never noticed, or maybe it was because no one could operate cars anymore, but the night was intensely quiet. The only thing he could hear was the faint moans of the infected, most likely still trying to climb into his house.

He walked up the back deck and tested the door. It was locked. He was going to have to break the glass to get in. He gave the backyard a scan. There was no one around. Just an empty swing set. The breeze was blowing one of the swings, creepiness at its best. Jake took a step back from the door, raised his right leg, and kicked his boot through the door’s window right beside the handle. It made a decent crash, but for as still as the night was, it could have been worse. He reached his hand inside, turned the lock, and opened the door. He was in the kitchen. There were no lights on, but the moon provided enough white glow to see his surroundings. In this room, at least.

He started down the hall in front of him. The light was fading the deeper he moved into the house. There was a table about halfway down, and he could just make out the drawers on its side. As he reached for the first knob, once again sending up some more prayers, he froze when he noticed the framed photo in front of him. He didn’t know why, but he reached for it, picking it up and turning it until the light behind him caught it just right so he could see. In the photo there was a man and a woman along with their daughter. The daughter was Amy. And her story of how she had been trapped in the house with her parents flashed in his mind, just as something flashed in his vision near the front door.

Jake set down the frame, readied his axe, and went into a crouch. His first thought was that his mind was playing tricks on him. He couldn’t have seen something at the end of the hallway, right? Impossible. If one of Amy’s infected parents had been there, they would already have lunged at him. Wouldn’t they?

Jake, something’s not right! Emily’s words came to him in the silence of the hallway. These . . . infected . . . they’re changing. Evolving. This is more than just a virus.

Jake scanned toward the front door, then to the back. The floor below him was carpeted. So it was possible something had moved without him hearing. Evolving. Emily had said they were evolving. He hadn’t seen that at his house, but maybe it has something to do with how long they’d been infected. Maybe the more time under whatever spell had taken them, the more they became aware as whatever kind of being they are now. Maybe they’d become used to their host and were starting to put things together. His mind was going in circles. It didn’t matter if they were evolving or not; he had to find the keys to the RV and get the hell out of there.

A creaking sound came from the kitchen behind him. A pang of fear moved in Jake’s stomach. Something was in there with him. And whoever––or whatever––they were, they were trying to be quiet. Jake squeezed the handle on his axe and rotated toward the sound. His blood ran cold when a figure moved in front of the moonlit window. A silhouette of a man.

Amy’s dad.

It let out a terrible screeching sound and rushed toward him. Jake maintained his crouched position and held his ground, held the axe’s blade staunchly in front of him, and let it run right into him. When he felt the infected thump into the blade, he stood, kicked it backward, brought the axe overhead, and just when it started for him again, he slammed it down on the top of its head. The screeching stopped and it collapsed to the ground. He went to pull the axe free, but on the first tug, it stayed fixed in the skull.

Thump thump thump thump thump.

Footsteps came running up behind him and all he had time to do was put up his hands in defense before what used to be Amy’s mom was on him. Her momentum pushed him down, slamming onto his back, barely able to get her by her throat with his left hand before her teeth sank into his face. The glow from the window reflected in her black marble eyes. She kept savagely lunging for him with no other goal but to make sure he no longer drew breath. As he held her off, it occurred to him that she had purposely waited to come after him. They had somehow coordinated a trap. The dad was the distraction and the mother was to come in from behind for the kill. He shuddered as he wrapped his legs around her waist, helping to hold her in place. He slid his free hand down to his holster. He undid the strap, pulled the Beretta, and placed the tip of the silencer under her chin.

As he squeezed his finger her demeanor shifted.

“Wait.”

But it was too late, he had already put a bullet in her head. He pushed her body off of him with his legs and shuffled back to the back door. Every hair on his body stood on end. Did he really hear what he thought he heard? Or was his mind playing tricks on him? Was it just a hiss that sounded like the word wait? It had to have been. These things had made no effort to talk up to that point.

These . . . infected . . . They’re changing. Evolving. This is more than just a virus.

If Amy’s mother’s demeanor hadn’t changed—softened—just before he heard it, he would have dismissed it entirely. But it did shift. And Emily’s words continued to echo in his mind as he heard the word “wait” over and over in his mind. If these things were evolving somehow, getting smarter, adapting, why wouldn’t they be able to pull the rope at his house to open the attic door?

16

Jake holstered his pistol and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. One ring later Jess answered the phone.

“You’re okay! Where did you go?”

“The RV was locked so I had to go inside the house to find the keys. How are things there?”

“Okay for now, but they know we’re up here. They’re scratching at the attic door.”

“It probably won’t be long before they pull the door down, so make sure someone is watching it with a gun.”

“Pull the door down?” Jess’s tone was a mixture of fear and shock. “What do you mean pull the door down? How would they be able to do that?”

“I’ll explain in a bit. Just be prepared. Jess, I’m in Amy’s house.”

“How do you know?”

“Pictures. And I just killed her parents.”

“Good God, Jake. This feels like a bad nightmare. How is any of this actually possible?”

“I don’t know.”

Jake was quiet for a moment. The house was quiet too. But his house was in chaos, and they needed to move.

“Listen, I need you to ask Amy where her parents keep the keys to the RV so we can get out of here.”

“Hold on.”

While Jake waited, he thought he heard something at the other end of the house. He tuned his ears, waiting for another sound.

“On the nightstand in their bedroom. Far right side of the house upstairs. Hold on, she’s saying something else . . .”

Thump thump thump thump thump thump.

Jake pulled his pistol out when he saw a small figure running toward him in the hallway.

“Jake, she said they could also be in the basement on her grandmother’s bookshelf. Her grandmother is in the house!”

Jake didn’t hear Jess’s last sentence. He was pulling the Beretta’s trigger, sending a bullet through Grandma’s forehead. Her body skidded face down to a halt at his feet.

“Jake! Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.” Jake holstered his gun. “Anyone else running around here I should know about?”

A pause.

“She said no. You scared me there.”

“Get everyone ready on the roof. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Be careful.”

Jake put away the phone, walked down the hallway, then up the stairs. It was darker on the second level. He pulled his phone out and used it as a flashlight since his actual flashlight was with his go bag. Before he went any farther, he stopped and Googled directions to the University of Cincinnati, took a screenshot of the turn by turn text and messaged it to Jess. If he didn’t make it back to them, they needed to know how to get there. And Jake couldn’t help but feel like their cell phones wouldn’t be lasting much longer.

Jake turned his phone back into a flashlight and turned right––a bedroom door was open there. He walked inside and checked the nightstand, and in a decorative bowl sat two sets of keys. He took them both. He gave the room a once over with the phone’s light. House shoes on the floor by the bed. Clothes laid out above it, a man’s, probably what Amy’s dad would have worn to work––if of course he hadn’t turned into some sort of monster. The room screamed normal. Something Jake had always run from since his “normal” parents had died in such an abnormal way. It was the reason he joined the Army. Ordinary had scared him because “ordinary” had gotten his parents killed. Ironically, all he could wish for now was that things went back to normal. But he knew his wish of avoiding normalcy had been forever granted by the gods at that point. He had a feeling that life was going to be anything but ordinary from then on. However long the rest of his life lasted.

He noticed an iPod and headphones sitting on the opposite nightstand. He walked over and pocketed them, figuring Amy might a way to escape while all of them were discussing the gruesome details of this misadventure to her home. And maybe it would also be an escape for her while they were plotting the grim road ahead.

Jake left the bedroom, descended the stairs, and checked the window by the front door. He didn’t see any movement, so he opened the door and ran for the RV, pushing the unlock button and jumping inside. Before he started it up he walked back through the cabin. It was an extremely nice RV. They must have been planning a long road trip, because no expense had been spared. There was a mini kitchen, complete with a refrigerator where they could keep the Beritrix cold. A sitting area around a table with a couch across from it. And he found two bunk beds in the hallway that lead to what he assumed would be called the master suite and the adjacent bathroom. They’d truly hit the jackpot.

He noticed a skylight in the roof overhead. He pulled the latch and it opened outward. Perfect for getting everyone into the RV after jumping there from the roof. With no more time to spare he rushed back to the driver’s seat, inserted the key, turned it, and the powerful engine roared to life. He pulled his phone and called Jess.

“Jake, Tom has already shot three of them. You were right, they opened the attic door! How did they know how to do that?”

Jess was starting to panic.

“Jess! Get everyone to the roof with all of our things. Tell Tom to shoot the gas tank. When it blows I’ll be coming in hot. So be ready!”

He ended the call, put the RV in reverse, and backed out of the driveway. He watched as a figure walked out onto the roof from the dormer window on his house. Tom. Below him the moon showed a crowd of infected still pushing inside the house. He cracked the window and could hear shotgun blasts. Jess and Tyler fighting off the infected from entering the attic. If Tom didn’t blow the SUV, it was going to be almost impossible to—

Fire rocketed toward the sky down the block as the first SUV blew, then a second explosion sounded as the second SUV went up in flames. Jake mashed the gas pedal to the floor and the RV lurched forward. The crowd of infected shifted focus and began to move toward the burning vehicles. The plan had worked.

Jake turned right and rolled through the front yard, smashing a couple of infected before slamming on the brakes just before the nose of the RV hit the wall of the house. He put it in park, ran for the skylight and pulled himself up and out to the RV’s roof. Tom tossed him his go bag and his AR-15. Amy came head-first out of the window and staggered on the slanted roof. Tom took her arm at the elbow and helped her to the edge of the roof. Below Jake, two infected began beating on the passenger side door of the RV. The explosion had garnered a lot of attention, but not every infected had moved toward it. Especially the ones in the house. Two more shotgun blasts rang out from the attic. Jake moved toward the edge of the roof, reached up and took Amy in his arms. As he walked her over to the skylight he reached in his pocket and handed her the iPod.

“Here, go back to the back of the RV into the bedroom, shut the door, and put on your favorite music. Turn it up loud. But if you do hear something, don’t worry about. I’ll take care of it, okay?”

Jake began lowering her into the RV.

Amy looked at him, tears in her eyes. “Did you see my mom and dad?”

Jake didn’t have time to think about it, so he lied. “No. They must have gotten out of the house before I got there.”

Amy nodded. Jake lowered her and let go of her hands. “Do what I said okay? I’m going to get us out of here.”

The two infected beating on the passenger side door had become six. The infected that couldn’t get out through the attic were coming back out of the house and stopping at the RV. Two more came running out of the front door.

“We’ve got to go, Tom. Get them out of there!”

“Jake!”

Jess shouted his name from inside the attic. Her voice was filled with panic. Jake knew without seeing that infected had made it into the attic. They were about to be overrun.

17

Jake ran and jumped up on the roof, passed Tom, and moved quickly through the window. He was right. Tyler was holding his shotgun horizontally, pushing back a large male infected, desperately trying to keep them from coming in. Before Jake could step in, the infected forced Tyler backward, bulldozing him into the table that held the candle. It fell, and the flannel blankets below instantly went up in flames.

“Jake!” Jess screamed once again.

Jake raised the butt of his gun and slammed it down on the head of the infected man that was pushing at Tyler. He turned the gun in his hands, pointed it down the attic stairs, and began firing rounds at the half dozen waiting to get in. The shots were near deafening in that small space. Jake could feel the heat from the fire on his back. They had to go.

Two more gunshots filled the room. Jake looked over his shoulder and Jess had shot the infected man that Jake had bashed to free Tyler.

“Let’s go!” Jess shouted.

Jake turned and waved Tyler toward the window. The back wall was consumed with fire. Jake watched as Jess went through the window and he ran over and followed Tyler out. As soon as Tyler’s feet hit the shingles, he lost his footing and began to slide toward the edge.

“Help!” Tyler screamed.

Jake jumped out through the window and swiped for Tyler’s hand, but he missed and Tyler kept sliding toward the edge. He was going over. And Jake knew the fall was the least of the worry, because he knew there were several infected waiting below.

“Tyler!”

Jess tried for the back of his shirt, but it was too late. Tyler’s feet went over the edge, but just before he fell into the crowd of flesh eaters below him, Tom was able to hook his arm under Tyler’s right armpit and for a moment had him stopped, dangling over the edge at the waist.

“I can’t hold him!” Tom shouted.

Jake got up from his belly and slid feet first to Tom, digging his heels into the shingles and grabbing him by his left forearm.

“Pull yourself up, Ty. Pull!” Jake shouted.

“I can’t! One of them has my foot!”

“Pull, Tom! I’ve got you. Pull!”

Tom took a death grip around Jake’s arm. Jake could feel the strain on him as Tom pulled on Tyler. After a few seconds of struggle, Tyler began to slide up onto the roof. Their effort had been enough. Tom made sure Tyler had a solid place on the roof, and then let go. The three of them took a moment to catch their breath.

“Oh God thank you.” Tyler said.

“We have to go. Now,” Jake reminded them.

The three of them carefully rose to their feet.

Tom turned to face Tyler. “You sure you don’t want me around, son?”

Tyler answered with a shout of panic. Jake followed Tyler’s eyes fixed on something behind him, but he wasn’t able to turn his head before it was too late. Before any of them could make a move, one of the infected had come through the window behind them and ran right for Tom. Its momentum was too much for the unprepared Tom to withstand the force of the collision and it took him right off the edge of the roof.

“Tom!” Jess shouted.

Jake rushed to the side of the roof and looked over. He began firing into the crowd of infected, but Tom was like a drop of blood in a pool of piranhas. They had already encompassed him entirely. Blood-curdling screams filled the quiet night, until one of them ripped through Tom’s throat, quieting him too.

“Tom!” Jake shouted, though it was just a reflex. There was nothing he could do.

“Jake, help him!” Jess shouted. But her shout was already filled with sobs. She also knew there was nothing to be done.

Jake moved over and jumped down to the roof of the RV. As much as he hated it, he knew this was the time to move, while the infected were distracted. He reached out his hand to Jess.

“That’s it? We just leave him there? Is that what we’ve come to already?”

Jake could see the hurt mixed with fear etched onto Jessica’s face. He wished he could take the pain away. He wished he could comfort her, but there were no words that would help.

“What do you want me to do, Jess? Shoot them all? Waste our ammo?”

“I want you to make all of this go away.”

She was spiraling. He needed something to get her off that roof. To get her mind off Tom dying in front of her. There was only one thing that would do that.

“I can’t do that, Jess.” The infected began clawing at the RV again. They had finished with Tom. “But we do need to go. If you want to stop by your sister’s house and see if she’s still alive, we need to move.”

Jess’s entire demeanor changed. With all that they had been fighting over the last hour, thoughts of not being able to get ahold of her sister had slipped her mind. She immediately jumped to the RV, momentarily squeezing Jake’s hand, then moving straight down through the skylight. Tyler followed onto the RV with Jake.

“They just ate him alive, Jake. He saved my life, and they ate him alive.”

Jake’s normally goofy and jovial friend was nowhere to be found. The face that Jake normally laughed with was in shock. This entire situation had sucked the life out of Tyler.

Jake put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We’re going to find a way out of this, Tyler. We’re going to get to Cincinnati, get on that helicopter, and hole up with the government’s top officials until we figure a way to outlive this. You hear me?”

Tyler looked down at the infected as they desperately tried to reach the two of them. “You really believe that, Jake? After seeing Tom get devoured like that?”

“Do we have any other choice?”

Tyler nodded somberly. Then, he moved past Jake, wiggling his way down inside the RV. Jake wasn’t sure if he did believe his own words, but he was a soldier. All of his training taught him to fight until there was nothing left. And while he didn’t know a lot of things, Jake knew that right now, they still had something to fight for. What surprised him was that an image of Emily came to him with that thought. With all the things they had to overcome to get to Mount Weather, that was the last thing he needed to be worried about.

18

Tyler turned left out of the neighborhood. Jake watched as the infected gave chase, the still-fiery SUVs their backdrop. Jess continued to try to make contact with her sister as she lay on the bed next to Amy at the back of the RV. Amy was still escaping with her headphones, just as Jake had hoped she would. The immediate plan was to stop by Jess’s sister’s house. Jake held little hope for finding Vanessa and her family alive, but he had to check. If for nothing else, Jess would need the closure.

On the next street over, the neighborhood was desolate. They had to weave around the occasional abandoned car in the road, but most were stopped at its side. Jake had no idea how the interstate might look. They may have just escaped the neighborhood, but the road out of town could be completely blocked. He didn’t know what the course of action would be if that were the case. As with most problems that day, they would have to cross that bridge when they came to it.

At the end of his neighborhood in Beaumont they went straight, crossing over Harrodsburg Road. The normally bustling intersection was crowded, but none of the cars were moving. The lights on the Texas Roadhouse sign were still lit, sending a glow of neon red out into the street. For no reason, he pictured infected serving other infected human hearts as they all danced to REM’s, It’s the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine). Of course things weren’t fine. The fact that that image played in his head was probably good proof of that.

Tyler was able to use the shoulder to get around the cars. He drove straight through the red light. Just up ahead was Venessa’s neighborhood.

“What’s the plan here, man,” Tyler said in a whisper. He glanced toward the back of the RV to make sure Jess wasn’t nearby. “Don’t you think this is a waste of time?”

“Probably. But wouldn’t you want to know if you had family close?”

Tyler nodded.

“Make a right here.”

Jake’s phone began to ring. It was Emily. Jess popped up from the back of the RV and joined them at the front so she could listen.

“Stop here for a second. I have to take this call without interruption.”

Tyler pulled to the side of the abandoned neighborhood road. Before Jake answered the phone he couldn’t help but wonder where the hell everyone was. Empty streets were the last thing he’d expected to see.

“You safe in Mount Weather?”

“Jake! Thank God. Just made it and got my phone on the charger. I lost battery earlier, before we could finish the call. I’ll text you those addresses as soon as we’re finished here. Are you all right? Are you still trapped?”

“We’re fine.”

The image of Tom being eaten alive washed over him. “Fine” was a relative term at that point.

“We made it out of the house, and I found an RV. We have one stop, and then we are hitting the interstate.”

“Jake, don’t miss that helicopter. It will be leaving here soon to pick up Professor Reed. After seeing the fallout in DC from the helicopter I have to imagine that at some point, the roads will be impassable. Just hopefully not before you make it to Cincinnati.”

“Nothing I can do about that.”

“No, I suppose not.”

There was a pause.

“Jake,” Emily’s tone changed. “I know what you said about your girlfriend, and I respect it completely. And I know this is not the time, but I can’t stop thinking about you.”

It was so quiet in the RV that, even though Jake didn’t have the phone on speaker, Jess heard every word Emily said. Jake reached for Jess’s hand but it was too late. She turned and walked toward the back of the RV.

Jake covered the phone with his left hand. “Jess!” It was no use. He could see the hurt on her face.

He put the phone back to his ear.

“Jake?”

“You’re right, Emily. Now is definitely not the time.”

Jake looked up at Tyler and Tyler had formed his mouth into an O, his eyes showing he wanted the juicy details. Jake just rolled his eyes.

“Listen . . .” Jake needed to focus, because they needed to go. “My brother. He’s alive. But he’s all the way out in Colorado. He’s alone with his sons. Is there anyone communicating from there? Maybe at NORAD? He needs to find some allies.”

“Jake, that is great news that he’s alive. And more good news, I just heard the president on the phone with the vice president. He was in California and they managed to get him to the Air Force base where we still have a small group of survivors. They are flying him via helicopter to Cheyenne Mountain Complex near Colorado Springs. You think your brother can make it there?”

“I don’t know much about Colorado, but I know my brother. If there’s a way to get there, he’ll find it. So there is some military left?”

“We’re not sure how much, but yes. We’ve had several bases that were radio silent check in. They are all devastated, but there’s still some units that we didn’t know existed. They got our warning calls in time to gear up and keep from contracting whatever the hell is going on.”

Jake let out a breath. He couldn’t have heard better news. Through all that was going on, and even though he and Colt hadn’t spoken in a long time, his brother being out there on his own with his boys had been weighing on Jake more than he’d realized.

“That’s great news. I need to call my brother. Can you make sure someone in at the base will be watching for him?”

“Of course. I’ll go right now and speak with the president himself.”

“Thank you, Emily. We’re on our way. Hopefully we will be to you some time in the early hours tomorrow morning.”

“I hope so. Be careful, Jake. If you need anything, please call me.”

Jake ended the call and immediately dialed Colt.

Tyler whispered. “Did you?”

Jake ignored him.

“Come on, man, look at what we’re dealing with here. Give me something fun to think about for a minute at least.”

The phone kept ringing while Jake kept ignoring Tyler.

Tyler kept on. “You did, didn’t you?” He lowered his whisper even further. “You had sex with her didn’t you? Come on!”

The call went to voicemail and Jake’s mind immediately thought the worst. With the world officially ending, it was hard to stay positive.

Tyler noticed the somber look on Jake’s face and stopped with the ribbing. “I’m sure he’s fine. Let’s just check Jess’s sister’s house and get the hell out of here.”

Jake nodded and put his phone away.

But there would be no need to check Vanessa’s house. Because standing in the glow of their headlights, head cocked, eyes black as the night behind her, was Jess’s sister.

19

“Jake, why the hell would that woman on the phone say she—”

Jess had walked up behind them, but before she could finish her thought about the phone call she, too, noticed her sister standing there alight in the RV’s high beams. Jake turned and saw the shock on Jess’s face.

“Jess, just go back to the bedroom. You don’t need to see—”

“Uh, Jake,” Tyler interrupted. “I think we’d better get out of here. Like, right the fuck now.”

Jake turned and watched at least a dozen more infected move in behind Vanessa. Jess’s nephew, Brandon, was one of them.

Jess began to cry. “Jesus, not Brandon too!”

She bent over at the knees and Jake caught her before she collapsed to the floor.

“Tyler, get us the hell out of here,” Jake said. “Now.”

“Roger.”

The RV shifted backward as Jake scooped Jess up into his arms. He stumbled when Tyler whipped the RV around, but managed to plod his way back to the bed. Amy was sitting up. The sudden rushed movement of the RV had pulled her from her trance. Jake laid Jess down.

“It’s okay, Amy.” Jake placed his arm on her shoulder. “We’re heading for the interstate now. Enjoy your music. I’ll get you some food in a bit if you’re hungry.”

Jess was bravely trying to hide her tears from Amy so as not to worry her, but she couldn’t hold it in. Amy placed her hand on Jess. It was her turn to do the comforting.

“It’s okay, Jess,” Amy said. “I don’t blame you for crying. This is all so messed up.”

Amy didn’t know about Vanessa just yet, but Jake was sure the words were meaningful anyway. He bent down to try to help comfort Jess, but his phone began to ring. Jess shot up and gave Jake a hard look.

“It’s Colt. I have to take this.”

Jess just laid back down and continued to cry. The RV was swaying left and right as Tyler navigated around the cars stopped in the road. Jake was surprised by how relieved he was to see his brother’s name on the caller ID.

“Colt, everything okay?”

“We’re alive. Okay is another story, I guess. You get out of the attic?”

“We’re in an RV on our way to Cincinnati. Trying to make a helicopter that’ll be flying to Mount Weather in Virginia.”

“Speaking of helicopters, saw a couple military choppers overhead flying toward Colorado Springs. Thought you said there was no military left.”

“I just talked to Emily. She said they received word that the vice president is being taken to Cheyenne Mountain Complex. Said they’ve had a few bases report back since I last spoke with her. Their numbers are devastated, but there are more that aren’t infected than we thought. Hopefully a lot more people not infected than we even know. Where are you?”

“At the neighbor’s. We ran into some . . . trouble.”

“Yeah, I would imagine you did,” Jake said. A vision of the infected man toppling Tom off the roof and tearing at his throat came to mind. “Emily is going to let the people at Cheyenne Mountain Complex know you and the boys will be coming. How are they holding up?”

“They’re fine. Look, Jacob, I know you don’t like listening to me much, and I know you’re a highly trained soldier and all, but you’ve got to be smart. Don’t stop till you get to Cincinnati. Don’t miss that helicopter. And don’t worry about us. The boys know how to shoot, and I know these mountain roads pretty well. Just get yourself to Mount Weather. Tomorrow will bring some clarity.”

Colt still spoke to him like he was still the same wide-eyed eighteen-year-old kid from eleven years ago. But at least they weren’t arguing. Tragedy either brings you together or it completely rips you apart. The first tragedy they’d suffered together had broken their relationship in two. Hopefully tragedy they were now facing, whatever the hell it was, would be the kind that would bring them back together.

“Don’t worry about me. This isn’t my first war.”

“Just don’t get cocky. It’ll make you complacent. And that will get you kill—”

Jake heard something in the background, and then nothing but silence.

“Colt?”

He took the phone away from his ear––the call looked like it was still running. He put it back to his ear. “Colt!”

But Colt was gone. Jake ended the call and tried three more times to dial Colt back, but the phone wouldn’t even ring. For the first time since everything had gone to shit, he felt the heavy sting of panic. He looked back at Jess crying on the bed, then over to his right at his goofball friend trying to steer around the madness. If he let this panic grow and get the best of him, they were all dead. He’d seen this kind of thing before in combat. If the leader loses it, everyone is lost. He had to swallow the panic before it got too strong of a hold on him. Other than Colt, everything he loved in the world was right there in that RV. And he’d be damned if he were going to lose anyone else he loved.

For some reason, when he thought about everything he loved, Emily’s smile flashed in front of his mind’s eye. And the smell of her perfume needled at his senses. This had happened several times since they’d said goodbye last week in Syria. And just as he had the last several times it happened, he did everything he could to put it out of his mind. He dialed her number just to see if it was Colt’s phone that was having trouble. But her phone didn’t ring either.

The sting of panic faded as his will to survive settled in. For Colt, for Emily, and for the three people with him in the RV, it was what needed to happen. The other thing that needed to happen was them finding some other way to communicate. If cell service was really gone and wasn’t going to come back, they needed a backup plan.

Jake walked to the front of the rig and took the passenger seat.

“Thanks for getting us out of the attic back there,” Tyler said.

Jake bypassed his remark. “We need a CB radio. Any idea where they sell them around here?”

“CB radio? Are you serious?”

“Phone lines are dead. Might be for good. How close is Walmart?”

Tyler glanced over. “You’re sure?”

“I can’t get out on my phone.”

Tyler pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolled to Jake’s contact, and pressed CALL.

“Anything?”

Tyler shook his head. “Not even ringing. This just went from bad to worse, didn’t it.”

“Afraid so.”

“There’s a Walmart right up here. You think it’s smart to go in? Probably crawling with those things.”

Colt’s words about not stopping rang in his head.

“You’re probably right, but we don’t have a choice. If we get stuck somewhere on the way to Cincinnati, we might need it, as well as some other supplies. Failure to plan is a plan to fail.”

Tyler laughed. “Okay, Oprah. Good God they really brainwashed you didn’t they? Remember when you used to be cool and not this . . . robo-soldier?”

Jake smiled. “Remember when you used to be able to see your toes in the shower?”

“There he is!” Tyler laughed. “That was hurtful, but at least you’re still in there somewhere.”

Jake wasn’t sure the old him was still in there somewhere. But he did know that whether he was, or wasn’t, he was glad the boring robo-soldier was. Because he knew to survive long enough to make it to that helicopter, they for damn sure were going to need it.

20

Emily placed the framed picture of her and her sister on the nightstand next to her new bed. Other than some clothing, it had been the only possession she’d managed to take from Syria. Her heart broke as she looked into her sister’s eyes. The picture was the only way Emily would ever see her again, and that reality was weighing heavy. So was the conversation with Jake.

Before the phone call, the helicopter ride in had been surreal. Even crazier was where they’d landed. The Emergency Operations Center in Mount Weather was nothing short of spectacular. She’d heard rumblings about it throughout her life, even seen it mentioned in a few movies. On their way down to the bowels of the mountain in Virginia, the mayor of Mount Weather gave them a briefing.

The man said the operations center sat on 564 acres of mountaintop and it consisted of two parts: the above-ground FEMA complex, and the 600,000-square-foot underground facility where Emily was now. The complex was so big that it had its own police and fire department, and even its own laws. If that wasn’t enough, the underground bunker had its own hospital, crematorium, dining and recreation areas, sleeping quarters, reservoirs of drinking water, emergency power plant, and radio and television studio, which were part of the Emergency Broadcasting System. The facility was meant to accommodate about two thousand people. The mayor mentioned that they were roughly a thousand people at the moment. Helicopters had been coming in from nearby bases all day long––mostly full of soldiers, but a few were civilians who had been lucky enough to be around and survive long enough to catch a ride.

Emily’s helicopter had been the only one to fly in for about an hour before that. It seemed most bases anywhere near them had been overrun. Between the extra supplies the helicopters brought in, and what the facility had already been equipped with, they were in good shape for a long wait if that was what would be necessary. Food and all other supplies were plentiful. Though there were over a thousand people there, as Emily sat on her bed, she still felt alone. And the way Jake had brushed her off . . . she figured that wasn’t about to change, even when he made it to the facility.

She needed something to do. Something to occupy her mind. They were all supposed to meet in half an hour for a strategy meeting, but she couldn’t wait that long. She would go and make sure someone was contacted in Colorado to be sure they were ready for Jake’s brother Colt. That would help her nerves . . . at least for a few minutes.

Emily walked the halls of the underground facility. The only way she knew her way through the maze of all white corridors was the map they’d all been given and the helpful signs posted on the walls. The president had told the mayor to relay the message to Cheyenne Mountain Complex that a man named Colt would be coming with his two sons. She’d heard the mayor communicate this to the radio room, the room that was just down the hall now.

Emily knocked on the door.

“Come on in,” a man’s voice said, and she entered.

“You must be Emily,” the short, balding man said with a smile.

“I am. Any luck contacting the base in Colorado Springs?”

“All set. The vice president is aware of Colt and his sons, and security will be watching for him.”

“Thank you.”

Emily walked back out into the hallway and pulled her phone from her pocket. She was happy to deliver good news to Jake, especially with what he was fighting at the moment. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be stuck out there in the madness. She hit send on the text, but almost immediately received a red warning that told her the message could not be delivered. She tried again, same result.

Emily ducked her head back inside the radio room. “Excuse me.”

The man smiled.

“Sorry to bother you again, but I can’t seem to send a text message. Is that because we are so far underground?”

The man’s smile melted. “No. I’m sorry, ma'am. Usually cell service is great down here. But . . . there is no cell service anywhere now. It went out about a half hour ago. There’s nothing we can do about it from here. This Emergency Broadcast Radio is our only line out.”

Emily nodded, then backed out into the hallway and leaned against the wall. All of a sudden she became overwhelmed with claustrophobia. Her breaths became short, and she slid her back down the wall until she was sitting in the hallway. Even basic communication was gone. Everything had changed. And now that she couldn’t communicate with Jake, he was all on his own. She feared the worry might just eat her alive. She began breathing through her nose and out through her mouth in an attempt to squelch the growing panic. Her palms were sweaty, her mouth was dry, and she felt faint.

“Emily? Are you all right?”

She jerked her head in the direction of the voice. It was Will Dunning, director of the FBI. He was young for such a position, couldn’t have been more than forty. The good looking man was polished, but not rigid, and his handsome smile was warm and inviting.

“I’m not sure, really.”

He held out his hand and helped her to her feet. “You’re wanted in the situation room, but let’s take a detour and get you some water. They can wait a few minutes.”

His even tone helped Emily relax. “Did you know the cell towers are down?”

“Unfortunately, yes. But we’re fine. We have open lines of communication with everyone we need to be in touch with.”

Emily knew what he meant, but she disagreed. The only person she cared to communicate with, she couldn’t. And she would have no idea if Jake made it to Cincinnati, or if he was alive at all. As they walked to meet with the most important people left on planet, the only thing Emily could do was worry about the only person she cared about. And that worry had no end in sight.

21

The bright blue Walmart sign shone bright overhead as Tyler and Jake walked toward the front entrance. Because they had no idea what could be waiting inside, Jake convinced Jess that it would be best if she waited in the RV with Amy. Jake felt that normally she would have put up more of a fight to go along, but with what had just happened with her sister, Jess was quick to stay put.

Jake walked up and the automatic doors slid open. The store was still well lit, but there were no signs of the crowds that would be shopping on a normal night. No signature Walmart greeter either. It was creepy that the upbeat pop music continued to play over the speakers even though no one was there to listen. As they had discussed in the RV, Jake and Tyler walked together, making a lap around the entire store––making sure they wouldn’t run into any surprises before they began putting things in carts. Other than stepping around the occasional dead body, things were pretty quiet. No infected to speak of, or shoot at. They finished the lap back where they’d started at the front of the store.

“Take a cart and grab as much food as you can. Start with a bunch of water,” Jake said. “I’ll go and get supplies.”

“We’re gonna split up?” Tyler asked, clearly wary of being alone.

“You’ll be fine, but keep your gun out just in case.”

Tyler nodded, took his shotgun from his shoulder, and laid it across the top of the shopping cart.

Jake stopped before walking away. “Oh, and Tyler . . .”

Tyler waited as if Jake were about to say something really important. Then a smile grew across Jake’s face. “Don’t just get Twinkies and Doritos, okay? Try to find at least a few healthy options.”

Tyler’s face morphed from concerned to annoyed with a roll of his eyes. “I was wrong about wanting the old you back. Forgot you were a total asshole. I’m happy just having robo-soldier. Bring him back please?”

Jake laughed. “Just make it quick, would you?”

Tyler pushed the cart away toward the food section. Jake laughed to himself; it felt good to feel something other than fear and worry.

“Oh, Tyler.” Jake walked back to his friend as he pulled his go bag open, fished through it, and pulled out a pair of two-way radios. He extended one to Tyler. “Here. Now that we don’t have cell phones, these handheld transceivers will help if we get spilt up.”

“Handheld trans—you mean walkie talkies?” Tyler smiled.

“Yeah, but these aren’t the walkie talkies we grew up with. These have a max range of fifty miles.”

“Fifty miles? Damn. That’s a hell of a range.”

“We shouldn’t need it, but we need to always be thinking worst-case scenario from now on. I have them set to the same channel already. Keep it on you no matter what.”

Tyler gave him a sarcastic salute, but Jake just shook his head and turned away. He walked toward the sporting goods section and at the very back he saw that almost all of the hunting rifles that usually lined the wall were gone. There was just one all alone on the right side. Apparently there were a few more survivors in town than he’d thought, and it seemed they’d had the same idea. Jake grabbed the Ruger Mini-14 and boxes of as many rounds of bullets as he could find. He filled his go bag up with ammunition first just in case they had to make a quick exit, then began filling the cart,.

Jake heard something on his left and pulled out his Beretta. He held it out in front of him as he searched the isle where he heard the noise. It sounded like the bottom of a sneaker. Florescent white lights hummed overhead when a break between songs came. He tuned his ears, but the music started up once again. That’s when he heard a crash and Tyler’s scream at the far end of the store.

Jake sprinted past electronics, then past housewares, his heart thudding in his chest. Thoughts of Tom getting eaten alive once again haunted him as he ran around the corner into the food section. What he saw caught him completely off guard. His mind had expected to see Tyler fighting off a ravenous infected. Instead, there was a large bald man in a camouflaged vest pointing his gun at Tyler. The shock of seeing a coherent human was almost stronger than the shock of someone holding a gun on his friend.

“I said give me the keys to the rig!” he shouted at Tyler.

“Put the gun down!” Jake said. He held his gun on the man, ready to pull the trigger if given any reason whatsoever.

Before the man had the chance to swing his shotgun over onto Jake, Jake felt something metal press against his temple from behind.

“Drop the gun. Right now, or I’ll blow your head off,” the ragged voice of a man out of breath demanded from behind him.

It was a rookie mistake. Jake hadn’t secured the middle isles in their initial walkthrough and now he was paying for it. If they made it through this, it wouldn’t be a mistake he would make again. The man holding a gun to Jake’s head must have been the noise that he’d heard in the sporting goods section, the sneaker squeak before Tyler screamed. He didn’t like missing things, and this miss could be particular costly.

Jake took his left hand away from the gun and held it in the air, then dropped the gun onto the tile floor. The man with the bald head motioned with the end of his shotgun for Tyler to move closer to Jake. Then he spoke to Jake.

“We just want the keys to that RV you got out front. You all ain’t the enemy, so we ain’t tryin’ to kill you. But we need that RV to get the hell out of here.”

“Where are you going to go?” Jake said.

The question surprised the man. “The hell do you care?”

“Take the gun away from my head and let’s talk about it.”

“That ain’t how this works. Now hand over the keys, or I radio my brother and he shoots that pretty lady and the little girl you got waiting inside.”

Jake’s stomach dropped. Then his body filled with rage. This wasn’t the first time he’d been in this sort of situation. In Afghanistan a few years back, it had been a local hostage and a jihadist instead, but still a similar scenario. He’d lost his cool then, and the girl paid for it with her life. It had haunted him ever since. But as with all tragedies in life, you either let them kill you, or let them make you stronger. Jake swallowed his anger and softened his demeanor.

“I have a contact in DC. I know where there is a safety zone. The only one I’ve heard exists. You can come with us if you like, but you’re going to have to follow us.”

The man laughed. “Why the hell do you think I would believe that? Who do you think you are? The president’s son or somethin’?”

The man holding the gun to Jake’s head behind him started to laugh along with his bald-headed friend.

The man continued, “You’re gonna have to come up with somethin’ better than that to keep me from takin’ that nice RV from you. Might even take the girls too just cause you’re a liar.”

Jake had tried the nice approach. He really had. Now it was time for what he was much better at.

Jake shot his right hand up behind his head and grabbed the man’s gun hand before he could react. He yanked it forward until he felt the man’s elbow on his shoulder, then he pulled violently down on the man’s arm and broke it in half. The man screamed in pain and it echoed through the empty store. Jake continued to hold the man’s gun hand, training the gun on the bald man until he worked the gun free and allowed the man to drop to the ground behind him.

“Put the shotgun down,” Jake demanded.

“Fuck you.”

“Tyler, pick up your shotgun and hold it on him.”

Tyler hesitated.

“Go on!” Jake said. “He won’t shoot you. If he turns his gun on you I’ll put a couple holes in him.”

Tyler picked up the shotgun like Jake asked. The bald man didn’t move.

“All right now. Hang on,” the man said. His buddy was still writhing in pain on the ground. “We’re just out here trying to survive whatever the hell this thing is just like you are.”

Jake took a step toward the man. “No, not like we are. I offered to show you safety. You offered to steal my RV at gunpoint and take our girls. That sound the same to you?”

The bald man’s radio crackled. “Jake, if you can hear me, don’t give those assholes that RV key. We’re safe here.”

Jake couldn’t help but smile. “You gotta love a Kentucky woman. Looks like your backup is gone. You want to put that gun down now?”

The big man looked over at his accomplice on the floor.

“Not particularly.”

“Okay, how about I shoot your friend here? Either way, we are leaving. Your call.”

The bald man smiled. His yellow-toothed grin held more than one blank slot. “That guy ain’t my friend. Just met him a few hours ago when we was running from those zombies. Now I got somethin’ for you, though. You hand over those RV keys and I’ll tell you how to keep from getting sick.”

“Beritrix,” Jake said.

The man’s face went from a knowing grin to a defeated frown.

Jake reiterated one last time. “Now put down the gun or we’re both going to shoot you.”

22

Jake finished looping the duct tape around the big bald man’s ankles.

Tyler said. “We can’t leave them alive, Jake. What if they come after us?”

“We won’t come after you,” the bald man said. The toughness in his voice was gone and he seemed like he was ready to beg.

“We’re not going to kill them,” Jake said.

Tyler shook his head in disagreement and finished taping the rest of the smaller man’s wrists.

Jake stood, collected the tape and a pair of scissors, and wheeled his cart around toward the exit. They were at the very back of the massive store. Jake motioned for Tyler to get his cart, then he addressed the two men.

“These will be waiting at the far end of the store,” Jake held up the scissors. “Worm your way down to them, cut yourself free, and be on your way. If I see you again, I’ll kill you. You understand?”

The little man with the broken arm and the scraggly beard spoke first. “You can’t just leave us here like this. What if one of those things gets in here? It’ll kill us!”

“You should have thought of that before putting a gun on my friend and threatening to take my girl.”

“Look, I’m real sorry for the way we handled everything, but we’re scared too. Just trying to figure all this—”

“Save it,” Jake stopped him. “You showed me your true colors. You’re lucky I’m giving you a way out of this alive.”

The man stopped talking.

Jake and Tyler started pushing their shopping carts toward the exit.

“The scissors will be by the last register. Your guns too.”

Tyler whipped his head around and gave Jake a bewildered, wide-eyed look. “Guns? They try to kill us and you’re leaving them weapons? What are you doing, Jake?”

They were out of earshot now.

“Listen. Just because the world is going to hell right now doesn’t mean we have to. If we stop being human, how is that different than being one of the infected?”

“That’s easy, Jake, we’ll be the ones alive.”

Jake shook his head. “I’m not going to take away their chance to survive. We’ll be long gone before they make it out of here. I’m not killing just to kill.”

This time it was Tyler that shook his head. “I don’t know a thing about war, Jake. But I’ve seen a lot of movies where this type of shit comes back to bite you in the ass. Something happen to you overseas? Or is this just the way you’re trained?”

Tyler didn’t understand because he’d never been in a life or death situation where your actions affect whether someone lives or dies. Jake’s training taught him kill these people. But his experience told him sometimes you never live that sort of thing down. The image of the little girl that had been killed because he’d lost his cool in Afghanistan flashed in his mind. He laid the scissors on the floor and they continued toward the exit.

“We can’t lose our humanity, Ty. Not when we have another choice.”

Tyler was quiet. Jake could tell he didn’t like the decision. Jake wasn’t sure he really did either, but it was the right thing to do. Though the right thing to do may not be the same anymore. Nothing else in the world was the same as it had been a day ago, Jake supposed laws and rules probably weren’t either. But it was the decision he made, and it felt better than murder.

The two of them wheeled their carts into the parking lot and over to the RV. Jake picked up the duct tape from the top of the pile in his cart, opened the door, walked in, and found Jess siting at the table nook holding her gun on the man sitting across from her.

“Sorry I left you girls here alone.”

“Don’t be.” Jess nodded toward her prisoner. “He wasn’t prepared for me.”

Jake smiled. “How could he be?”

Jess said to the stranger. “Told you your boys didn’t stand a chance in there.”

The man’s dark hair was messy atop his head. His face was dirty with sweat, and he was much smaller than his bald brother. Younger too. “Where’s my brother?”

“Tied up inside,” Jake said. “Where you’re going to be.”

Jake started with the tape on his mouth. He didn’t feel like hearing the man beg all the way back into Walmart. When he finished with the man’s hands behind his back, Tyler surprised him.

Tyler said. “I’ll take him in.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, you guys load all the stuff from the carts.”

“All right. Just make sure you tape his feet too.”

“Got it.”

Jake didn’t know what to make of Tyler wanting to take him in. Maybe he was going to be more helpful than Jake originally thought. That, or he just didn’t want to load the stuff from the carts. That seemed much more likely. Either way, Jake watched Tyler go through the automatic doors, then began grabbing the food from the cart and passing it inside to Jess, who put it away.

Several minutes passed. Jake and Jess, with a little help from Amy, loaded the last of the bullets inside the mini closet of the bedroom. They were stocked with everything they would need for a journey to DC, just in case they somehow missed the helicopter in Cincinnati. The thought that brought an urgent feeling to Jake. They needed to go––why wasn’t Tyler back yet?

Just as Jake placed the last box of bullets in the closet at the back of the RV, a blast of music rocked the quiet parking lot. The music was so loud that Jake could feel the rumble all the way to the RV.

“What the hell was that?” Jess popped up from putting a jug of water under the bottom bunk.

Jake pushed past Jess, and that is when the real sound came. Feedback. That ear-piercing, high-pitched whine that goes all through you when a microphone is in the wrong place during a live performance. What the hell was going on?

Jake opened the RV door, stepped outside, covered his ears to dampen that awful noise, and ran around the front of the truck. He couldn’t believe what he saw. For a moment, he was so caught off guard that he was frozen in place, staring at what his long-time friend had done. It wasn’t until he saw his chubby friend plodding toward him, the sound still blaring, that he snapped out of it.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jake shouted.

“Let’s go!” Tyler ran right by him and jumped inside the RV.

Jake looked back at the building. The sliding doors were propped open, and it looked like Tyler had pulled a mass of speakers and sound equipment just outside. He was making the noise on purpose. Jake had to shut it off.

Jake took three hard steps toward the entrance, then stopped dead in his tracks. About a hundred yards away at the edge of the building, the reason Tyler had created the loud noise, was coming straight for him. An ocean of infected. And they were coming fast.

“Come on, Jake! Let’s go!” Jess shouted.

He barely heard the shout over the feedback. There was no way he could get to the men inside before he was swallowed by the wave coming at him.

“Jake!”

Jess’s voice sobered him. As much as he wanted to help the men inside, he had to protect Jess and Amy. He turned away from the oncoming horde, jumped inside the RV, and slammed the door behind him. The RV spun its wheels as Tyler threw it into reverse, whipped the front end around, and launched forward, moving away from the army of infected. He turned out of the parking lot, then back onto Harrodsburg Road.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Jake moved to the front of the RV. “Tyler!”

“You made a mistake back there, Jake. Leaving them alive was the wrong call!” Tyler shouted, eyes fixed on the road.

Jake shrugged off Jess’s hand from his arm and took his place in the passenger seat, scooting to the edge and getting right in Tyler’s face.

“Wrong call? You just murdered three people! Do you realize that?”

“Murder? They were going to take the RV and rape the girls. And you're worried about them?”

Jake shot a look at Jess, but she had already turned Amy around, getting her to the back bedroom and shutting the door.

Jake continued. “So this is how we are now? Not even a day has passed and we’re already without laws? Without humanity?”

Tyler slammed on the brakes. Jake was thrown into the dash, and the girls screamed in the back.

“Look around, Jake! Shit has changed! We’re being chased by monsters, our cell phones don’t work, and people are pointing guns at us in the middle of stores trying to steal our RV! Yes. To answer your question, YES! We are already without laws, and if we are the only ones left with humanity, then we are next on the dead list!”

Jake was quiet. After a few seconds of heavy breathing, Tyler pulled forward and took the on-ramp to I-75 North. As crazy as what happened in Walmart had been, Jake couldn’t help but think Tyler might be right. Jake was always the man who did the right thing. Clearly, the right thing had a different meaning now. Mostly because everything was wrong.

23

Emily sat quietly at the long, rectangular wooden table in the meeting room. As she looked around at the President of the United States, the secretary of defense, and the heads of the FBI and the CIA, the same feeling that she didn’t belong in that room bubbled to the surface. But it was different this time. On the walk with Will, they’d passed several rooms where people were hard at work. On what, she didn’t know, but she did know that they weren’t sitting there feeling sorry for themselves––they were working to make a difference. That is exactly the mentality Emily needed to adopt, and fast. She was the one who had seen the first incidents of these things. The one who documented how their behaviors slowly changed, and the one who the president already said he trusted. She needed to buck up and trust herself. She needed to make a difference. She was one of the few sane members of humanity and there was no other choice. They couldn’t just quit; she couldn’t just quit.

“You said you had a couple infected here in the complex and were running tests on them?”

Everyone turned and looked at Emily.

“I’d like to take a look at them.”

“Of course,” the president said. “Anything in particular you are looking for?’

Emily stood. “I was going over my notes back in the helicopter. The progressions I witnessed while the infected were quarantined on base, they were fairly slow at first. But the last of the infected went through the progressions much faster.”

“Progressions?” Will said.

“To put it plainly, progression from complete savages, to . . . Not as savage.”

“You mean you witnessed them becoming less aggressive, and not more so?”

“Exactly. It was almost as if they were learning a new system.”

“They?” The president’s question hung there for a moment. “How will seeing the infected we have here, help?”

“If your doctors here have made thorough notes, I’ll be able to see if the progression has moved along even faster.”

“To what end? What’s your theory?”

“Not a theory,” Emily said. “Just a notion right now. But what if––whatever this virus or pandemic is––what if it isn’t just accelerating by individuals, but as a collective.”

Will spoke up. “You mean like a hive mentality?”

“Right. Like these organisms, or whatever they are, can communicate. And maybe they are learning our brains and functions. Getting better at them.”

CIA Director Jerry Wesley cleared his throat. “This is ridiculous, Mr. President. Are we really going to let some medical doctor lead us down a rabbit hole where we are chasing hypotheses instead of using what force we have left to wipe the infected off the map entirely? So we can start to heal and rebuild?”

The president started to speak, but Emily spoke over him to defend her position.

“Coming from you I have to say I’m surprised. Your entire line of work focuses on intelligence. Hell, it’s in your acronym, for God’s sake. But you don’t want to apply it here? Even if we have the resources to wipe them out, what happens when we don’t learn what actually happened and why, and the virus, or organism just comes back stronger?”

“Am I the only one hearing this?” Jerry asked, now laughing at Emily. “Have we lost our minds? Organism? You think, what, that some parasite has been able to take over our brains? Control us? They are nothing but savages out there. Chasing flesh and killing anything in sight. Come on, people.”

“Sit down, Jerry,” Will spoke up. “What’s your plan? Sit back and wait? Emily was the first to watch these things. I, for one, want to hear what she has to say.”

“Nobody gives a shit what you want, Will. You’re lucky to be in this room yourself.”

Now both men were standing.

“That’s enough!” the president shouted as he pounded his fist on the table. “Both of you sit down. Jerry, we are considering everything at this point. Use of force and use of science. We don’t have a feel for how many survivors are out there yet, so as we continue to assess, we will continue to try and learn.”

Both Jerry and Will took their seats. Emily sat down as well. Now that she had asserted herself, she was anxious to speak with the people researching the captured infected.

The president continued, “Now, we have been in contact with several bases. There are more military than we first thought. So we do have some positive momentum. Unfortunately, we are still completely in the dark about what started this thing, and what continues to drive it. The vice president is safe in Colorado, and so are a few top biologists and scientists from the West Coast. Emily, if you can get up to speed here, I’d like you to be the liaison between us and them with respect to this virus.”

“Of course, Mr. President.”

Emily looked over at Jerry, who was clearly not on board with that decision. At this point she didn’t care. The president’s faith in her was enough. And faith in herself was growing by the second.

“What about the helicopter to pick up the professor in Cincinnati?” Emily said.

Jerry spoke up. “You mean the kook who lost his mind when he heard there was a pandemic? Started making shit up as he went crazy?”

“We don’t know that what he found doesn’t have relevance. Mr. President, we—”

“I’m sorry, Emily. It’s just too dangerous to send a helicopter for one man. Daylight will help our men see danger if it’s present. Then maybe we can get the helicopter to him.”

“But Mr. Pres—”

“I know your friends were supposed to meet there too, but they’ll have to wait till morning as well. I’m sorry.”

“But he’s a Special Forces soldier, Mr. President. Delta Force. We need him, possibly more than the professor. Do we have anyone here with actual high-level combat experience?” Emily looked over to the secretary of defense. “No offense, George. I mean someone who can possibly lead us out there on the ground?”

“None taken,” George said. “But we do have soldiers here, Emily. Maybe not a Delta operator, but I’ll have to go over everyone's qualifications—”

“I’m sorry,” the president said. “But it doesn’t matter. No helicopter is leaving here until dawn. If it is even able to leave then.”

“But sir!”

“Emily, this is Janice Wilkinson,” the President interrupted. “She will take you to the laboratory so you can get up to speed.” He then addressed the entire table. “If there is nothing else, I need to speak with the vice president.”

Emily bit her tongue. A pit formed in her stomach as everyone exited the room. She had told Jake a helicopter would be waiting. Now that that wasn’t happening, he might possibly be stranded for good.

24

No one had said a word in over fifteen minutes. Tyler was busy trying to navigate around the mess of cars on the interstate while Jake attempted to work out the mess in his head. Though Tyler might ultimately have been right about how everything had indeed changed, including what was right, he could have at least untied those men stuck in Walmart and given them a chance.

He also needed to talk to Jess. He knew some difficult road would be ahead for them, and he needed to get right with her. Talk to her about her sister, talk to her about Emily, and make sure everything was okay. They were going to need a united front going forward. The four of them left in that RV, regardless of current tensions, were all each other had left. And they needed to be a team.

“You okay up here for a minute?” Jake asked.

Tyler nodded. “You’re not going to tell Jess about this thing between you and the doctor are you?”

“She needs to know.”

Tyler slowed the RV. There were quite a few cars to navigate right in front of them now. “Look, dude. Clearly you have more experience with women than I do. I mean look at you––even I’d have sex with you. But you have to listen to me now. Okay?”

“So now you’re an expert on apocalypses, and relationships?”

Tyler smiled as he steered. “I’m telling you, man. You can’t tell her. Not now. That woman is on the edge as it is. She just saw her sister in full-on zombie mode. You can’t dump this on her too.”

Jake pointed into the darkness on the right in front of them. “Watch out right there, the ditch is pretty steep.”

Tyler corrected course and slowly pushed past three cars turned in different directions on the road.

“Look, Jake. I know you’ve been through a lot. Losing your parents and then not really knowing the truth took its toll. Made you the brutally honest person you are. But you can’t do that here. I’m telling you, you just can’t.”

Jake was frustrated. “What the hell do you know about my situation? Or about any situation, for that matter? All you do is smoke weed and play video games, for Christ’s sake. You’re psychoanalyzing me?”

“Jake, I’m not the guy you left all those years ago when you joined the Army. I’ve grown up a lot in the last few years too. You just haven’t been here long enough to know. Why do you think me and Jess have gotten so much closer? We actually talk like adults now. And anyway, I happen to know everything about your situation, remember? I went through it with you. Your parents practically raised me. I loved them, too, you know.”

Jake did know. When it happened, Tyler had been devastated. He coped by turning to drugs, while Jake coped by trying to save the world. Ironically, now the world actually needed saving and all Jake wanted to do was go back home and get to know the people he loved again. Because apparently all of them had changed so much that he needed to. He was definitely not the guy he used to be. Jake was growing tired of fighting. It’s all they’d been doing for almost an entire day.

Jake smiled. “Look at you all grown up. Bout time.”

Tyler laughed. “Right? Sorry I didn’t consult you back there. That could've went sideways.”

“Sorry I made you feel like you couldn't have a say in things. You just have to understand that I’m not used to a democracy with my team. When men don’t take my orders in battle, they die. That’s what I’m used to.”

“Speaking of war, what are we going to do? What if we get to the university and it’s crawling with these things and we miss the helicopter?”

“We can’t think like that.”

“Okay, then what do you think this is? I heard you say terrorist attack to your brother. You think that’s what’s happening?”

Jake rubbed his face with both of his hands. “No. It just doesn't make sense.”

“What, then?” Tyler turned on his high beams to find a hole through the cars. “Just a virus gone wrong? You think this is really like some zombie movie?”

“Listen, something weird happened in Amy’s house when I was getting the RV keys.”

Tyler looked over—intrigued, but concerned. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Yeah, well, remember Emily saying these infected are evolving somehow?”

“Not at your house they weren’t . . . Well, except when they were able to pull down the attic door, I guess. You think that’s what she means?”

“I'm not sure what Emily meant, but I am sure that Amy’s parents coordinated an attack on me.”

Tyler’s tone was skeptical. “Coordinated? Like, talked about a plan then implemented it, coordinated?”

“I know it sounds impossible. But I’m telling you, the dad distracted me while the mom came at me from behind.”

“No way. Come on. You let what Emily told you about how she thought they may be evolving play tricks on your mind. It was just a coincidence.”

“Yeah?” Jake walked away, opened the refrigerator, and grabbed a couple of waters. He handed one to Tyler, then opened his and took a long drink. “What if I told you the mom said something to me?”

“Bullshit. Don’t be trying to scare me. We have enough real shit to worry about without you making me piss myself.”

“I’m telling you, before I shot Amy’s mom, she said ‘wait’. Like, she hissed it at me.”

Tyler gave Jake a look that lingered. Jake could tell he was trying to make out whether Jake was lying to him, or if he was scared out of his mind.

“You're serious.” Tyler finally said.

“Dead serious. I thought I was hearing things at first, like maybe she just hissed in a way that sounded like it. But she said wait. And her coal-black eyes were looking right through me as she said it.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do with that information? I was already scared. But if these things are evolving, or getting used to their host or whatever, what does that mean?”

“It means we’re going to have to be even more careful when we come across another group of them. Because they may be different than at the house.” Jake shook his head and took another drink of water. “Next time, they may be setting a trap.”

25

The last eighty miles had gone better than the first five in the RV. The farther they had gotten away from the city, the fewer cars they had encountered on the road. It was somewhere around ninety miles from Lexington to where Jake remembered the University of Cincinnati to be. Their current stretch of road was very familiar. Before his parents died they used to take him and his brother Colt on this trip a couple times a month. Sometimes to visit family, sometimes to catch a Cincinnati Reds baseball game, or once in a while to go to the theme park. Either way, no map was needed. He had been to football games at the university on several occasions as well.

As they closed in on Cincinnati the traffic in the road began to swell. But it wasn’t impassable. That was fortunate, because Jake was growing more worried by the minute that they would get there and find the professor and the helicopter had already gone. It was going on one o’clock in the morning, but he felt like he had been up for days. A lot of life had been lived in the last twelve hours. Enough to prematurely age a man. His eyes had gotten heavy several times, but he and Tyler had been able to catch up, so that was good, and it kept him alert. His friend really had changed a lot since Jake went away.

They talked about the past few years and what each other had been through. Jake shared several stories where he and his men had gotten themselves into some tough situations and found a way out of them. In an effort to ease some worry, Jake promised Tyler that they would make it through this in much the same way. Somehow. Tyler explained to Jake how he was able to make a good living playing video games online. Which quite honestly blew Jake’s mind. And that wasn’t easy to do on a day filled with inhumans chasing after you for your blood. Apparently people all around the world would tune in to watch Tyler play a game. Tyler said it was more about his personality and commentary that kept the large audience engaged. Jake, of course, joked that that was impossible. Tyler finished the story by explaining that he even had endorsement contracts. A gamer, with endorsements. Companies were actually paying him to drink their drinks and wear their clothing while he played games. It was unreal he could make a living that way. Every teenager’s dream come true. It made Jake feel even more disconnected from society. Of course, none of that mattered now.

All the things that people put thousands of hours into in their lives over the span of decades, like family and career, all of a sudden meant nothing. Unless of course they were someone like Jake, who had put thousands of hours into learning how to outthink and outmaneuver the enemy. In the blink of an eye, those skills were more in demand than ever. Possibly one of the few skillsets that would ever matter again. He felt fortunate to know what he knew about combat in this new world. He was one of the elite, and he had a feeling it was going to come in extremely handy over the foreseeable future.

Jake also felt unbelievably fortunate to have made it out of Lexington alive. And not just him, but he felt lucky that Tyler and Jess had too. They could all very easily have ended up like Tom.

Tyler broke the silence in the RV. “You think Tom would have turned? After being bit, I mean?”

Apparently he’d been thinking along the same lines as Jake.

“He didn’t seem to be showing signs of it. Whatever those signs may be.”

“Yeah. It all happened so fast, though. We haven’t seen a soul since started driving on this road. You think everyone is dead?”

“Not everyone. I think there are probably a lot more that made it than we think. They just aren’t dumb enough to leave their house like we were.”

“Yeah, like we had a choice.”

“True,” Jake said. “Take this exit up here.”

They were getting fairly close, and Jake needed to wake Jess and Amy. They would have to eat before all of them left the RV. He hated to think negatively, but someone in command has to do their best to think of everything, even the possible negative outcomes. That way there is always a plan B. Jake didn’t know what lay ahead, but he knew it wasn’t going to be easy. What made it even harder would be keeping Amy safe. It wasn’t like a thirteen-year-old could defend herself.

Jake said. “How do you think it’s possible that Amy didn’t turn?”

“I was thinking about that earlier. Honestly, I have no clue. Even if on the street she managed to avoid the virus or whatever, when she was trapped all day in the house with her parents she would definitely have been infected by now if she could be infected at all. Freaky, if you ask me. Especially since the only word we’ve heard one of these things say was from her mom.”

“What do you mean?” Jake didn’t really follow Tyler’s line of reasoning.

“Well, I don’t know. You want me to put on my ‘pop culture slash gaming’ hat for a minute?”

Jake sat back in his seat and folded his arms. It never occurred to him that his friend being a media junkie could actually help in this situation. And while he doubted Tyler could, at this point, Jake would indulge just about anything. “By all means.”

“Okay. Well . . .” Tyler’s eyes were wide with excitement. He seemed to be really getting into this. Maybe something he said could be of help. “If I were writing this story, or if this were a game I was creating, and all I had to go on to finish the game is what we know, the arc of the story would obviously be centered around survival, figuring out what was turning these things and how to stop it or reverse it. Pretty standard stuff. The wild card here is Amy. The Beritrix has been proven to keep a person from becoming infected, and so far it’s the only thing that we know of that does, yet she doesn’t take it. She was around her infected parents for an entire day, yet still didn’t turn. Nothing about it follows what we know to be the rules of this virus or whatever this is.”

Jake stopped him. “Okay, so far all you’ve done is repeat what’s happened. Your gamer brain have any theories going forward?”

“If you’d give me a second. The setup is as important as anything to a story.”

Jake smiled. “Got it. Please, do continue.”

“Smart woman in DC says she thinks these things are evolving. Your story about Amy’s mom and dad coordinating an attack against you, and saying a word to you, corroborates that. So, this leads us to believe there is more to the story than just some random outbreak, especially if it is known to have started with our military. A scene in the movie would show that you and your brother think a terrorist attack doesn’t make sense, because if everyone is dead, what is the point of a religious revolution? I tend to agree, but it could have started as a scare tactic then became far more contagious then they ever imagined.”

“I feel a but coming on. Get to it, we’re almost to the bridge.” Jake was actually enjoying this. The bridge he was referring connected Kentucky to Ohio. It did so by crossing over the Ohio River. In the distance they could see downtown aglow, along with a few fiery blazes. Not good. But at least the lights were still on.

“But,” Tyler paused for dramatic effect. “That doesn’t explain the part where they are evolving, or the part where a young girl is immune for no apparent reason. Now, there could be more like her, but in our small sampling, we have seen few survivors, and the ones we have met have all been on Beritrix.”

“Come on, man. Enough with the backstory.”

“Fine,” Tyler continued. “If it were my story, the girl would be the most important piece. She would hold the key to everything. Whether it be something in her blood, or whatever, that would be key. So the cast in my story would die to keep her alive. As for the infected evolving? Definitely aliens.”

“Aliens?” Jake didn’t see that coming. “You just lost me.”

They slowly approached the bridge into downtown Cincinnati.

“Yeah, aliens. It’s the only thing that makes sense. They want what we have here on earth for some reason, but they need us out of the way. So instead of war, they use our weak immune system against us. That way they have a lot less risk of losing their own kind in a war. The evolution of the infected is the aliens getting used to our bodies and our functionality. And if I’m writing the story, the good guys will have to hurry before the aliens can gain full control, because once they can use smarts, and they have the numbers, we’re all fucked.”

“Yeah, you’ve seen way too many movies.”

“Oh yeah, Jake, because what we are doing right now isn’t like one of those movies at all. You having a normal Saturday? Cause mine’s been a little weird.”

Just as Jake was about to agree, Tyler slammed on the brakes, skidding to a stop just before the entrance to the bridge. Illuminated by the headlights was what looked to be a woman standing right in front of them, looking down at something she was holding in her hands.

“Is that . . .” Tyler cocked his head and squinted his eyes. It was clear he was trying to make sense of the image glowing in the RV’s lights.

“A baby,” Jess finished his sentence. She had raced to the front of the RV when Tyler had slammed the brakes.

Jake got a strange feeling as he watched the woman holding the baby. Something was off.

“Nobody move.”

26

Emily was tired. She hadn’t slept in two days and she could feel it in her bones. However, her curiosity was stronger than the pull of sleep, and when she learned there was still one scientist up and working on an infected subject, she couldn’t help but go have a look. She was escorted through a maze of hospital-like hallways––white walls, white ceilings, all very sterile. At the end of the hall were two doors and her escort brought her to the one on the left. Emily had never been on the business side of a two-way mirror before, but the room she entered looked like all the ones she’d seen on television. A couple of chairs sat in front of an oversized rectangular window; the scientist and an infected were just on the other side.

“Can I get you anything to drink, Ms. Fraser?” the woman said.

Emily was about to say no, but a drink sounded like it would really hit the spot. “Got any vodka?”

“I think I can rustle some up for you. Need anything with it?”

“Just ice and a splash of water. You’re a life saver.”

The short-haired woman gave her a wink, then pointed to a button on the wall. “If you want to listen in, just press that.” She then left the room to get Emily her drink.

In front of Emily on the other side of the mirror there was a dark-haired woman on her left sitting in a chair. She could only see the woman’s side profile, but could tell the corner of her right eyeball was black. The thick wooden chair had arms, and the woman’s wrists were strapped to them. Her legs were fixed to the legs of the chair as well. The woman on Emily’s right had a small gas-mask-type thing on her face, long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was sitting in a chair as well, no more than a couple of feet away. That was the first thing that struck Emily as odd. How she could be so close without fear, and how she could be so close without the infected woman snapping at her? Did they have her sedated?

Emily walked over to the mirror and pressed the button. The woman’s voice came through the speakers; she was in mid-sentence, and speaking with a calm and conversational voice.

“. . . are safe here. No one is going to hurt you. Are you able to speak?”

For a moment Emily held her breath, as if waiting to actually hear words come from the creature’s mouth. The infected woman was still wearing normal clothes. The blue blouse was torn in places, and her white pants were dirty and ripped, but other than her black eyes there wasn’t much to distinguish her from the woman in the mask across from her. Especially since she wasn’t trying to tear out the scientist’s throat with her teeth.

“Are you hungry?” the doctor asked.

The infected woman leaned forward after hearing the last question. Was it a coincidence? Was that something the scientist had seen a reaction from before? Emily had so many questions, but no one to ask. She was enthralled with what she was witnessing. The closest she’d come to any of the infected in Syria was a television screen displaying the camera. None of them had been docile enough to strap down, and no one knew enough about them to think it would be okay to enter the room with them––even with a mask. The last thing Emily had seen when she ran to the helicopter in Syria was three infected soldiers running after her from around the corner of a building. There had been no civility to them whatsoever.

The door to the room opened and Emily nearly jumped out of her skin.

“I’m so sorry to startle you,” the woman said as she handed Emily a glass.

Emily’s heart was racing. She took a deep breath and thanked her. “Sorry, I was really into this. Do you know anything about it? What’s been going on? The progress? I apologize, I know the president said your name, but I . . . I’m Emily.”

“Shelley. I’m Doctor Kendall’s assistant.” She nodded in the direction of the two-way mirror. “There isn’t a lot to go on, but I can fill you in if you’d like.”

“That would be great.” Emily took a sip of vodka. The burn of the alcohol as it slid down her throat served to perk her up a bit. “I noticed that when the doctor asked if the woman was hungry, she leaned forward. Is that something new?”

“It is, as of this evening. There have been several words like hungry that have evoked a small response. It’s all so new. Just this afternoon you couldn’t even get in the room with this woman without her freaking out. In the last several hours, she has become very calm. It’s weird––and scary, if you ask me.”

Emily turned to look through the mirror. She hadn’t heard the doctor say anything, and it was because she was attempting to give the infected woman food. The woman made no move toward the food, though. It was like it wasn’t even there.

Emily said. “What other words have evoked a response?”

“The same words that do in me and you, really. Love, friend, hate . . . it’s almost as if there is still a human in there, but only those words with strong meaning to us get her to react.”

“So, they really are evolving?”

Shelley took a deep breath. “Well, it’s almost as if they completely devolved, and maybe now they are . . . relearning?”

Emily said nothing. Her mind was racing. She was trying to figure out if the fact that the infected were no longer just running around ravaging people all the time was a good or bad thing. What were they now? Was there something starting to fire in their brains? Were they able to think?

27

Tyler unbuckled his seatbelt and started to get up from the driver’s seat.

“Wait.” Jake put his hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “I don’t like this.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Jess said. “There’s a woman standing out there alone with her baby and we are just sitting here staring at her.”

She turned toward the door of the RV, but just before she was able to turn the handle, Jake caught her free hand and spun her around.

“Just wait. Something feels off.”

Jess searched Jake’s eyes like she didn’t recognize him. “Jake, we have to help her. What if those things are out there?”

“That’s exactly my point. What if they are?”

Jess was quiet for a moment. Everything was quiet. It was as if there wasn’t a thing making a sound in all the world.

Jake pulled her away from the door. “Don’t you think if this was a woman holding her baby that she would have already run up to the RV begging us to let her inside?”

Jake saw a shift in Jess’s demeanor. Her face softened. She walked past Jake toward the front to get a better look out the window.

“You’re right. Why isn’t she moving?”

Tyler said. “Jake, do you think it could be like you said? Like they’re setting a trap. Could it be happening this soon?”

Jake thought about it for a moment. If the infected were evolving this rapidly, all of humanity was in much more trouble than if they were just dodging zombies. It would mean this really was something else. Something much more involved.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense to me.”

Jess turned toward him. “You really think they are smart enough to set a trap?”

“It’s not a good trap, but what else could this be?”

“Jake,” Tyler said as he stared out the front windshield. “Jake, get over here. Now!”

Jake moved Jess to the side and peered through the window. It wasn’t that the woman had looked up and the headlights were glistening in her deep black eyes that frightened him. It was the dozens of glistening eyes on both sides of the road that shocked him to the core. There was no way to tell how many of them there were, but it looked like a group of fireflies floating in the darkness off to the left and right sides of the road.

“Reverse.”

Tyler hesitated. The fireflies began to move out onto the road.

“REVERSE!” Jake shouted.

The fireflies were now a horde of infected, and they were coming right for the RV.

“GO GO GO!” Jake shouted again.

Tyler pulled the shift lever up to reverse and stomped on the gas. In front of them, the many infected were running around the woman holding the baby as she just stood staring. It seemed like she was waiting for the director of the trap to yell cut. Just as soon as the RV began moving backward, several thumps sounded at the back of the RV.

On instinct, Tyler hit the brakes when he heard them hit something behind them. Jake rushed past Jess, dove to the floor, pulled his AR-15 from under the bunk bed, and strapped his bag to his back.

“Jake!”

Tyler’s voice was frantic. Jess went to grab a shotgun while she told Amy to keep her headphones on and stay in the bedroom. Bodies of the infected could be heard thumping against the RV.

“Jake they’re climbing the hood!”

Jake snapped his magazine in place, then picked up his axe from the table.

“What are you doing?” Jess said.

“I’ve got to get a look behind us. I’ve got to see how many there are so we can figure out which way we try to drive.”

“How?”

Jake answered by popping out the sunroof. He stepped up on the small table and poked his head out. They hadn’t made it on top yet. The muggy night air warmed his face. He placed the axe on the roof as he pulled himself through the opening. As soon as his shoes hit the top he heard a thump to his right. An infected man was pulling himself up from the front of the RV. Jake squeezed the handle on his axe and rushed to greet him there. He said hello with an over-the-head swing that connected on top of the man’s skull. Jake put his shoe on the man’s shoulder and pushed down as he pulled the blade of the axe free. Then he hooked the axe on the loop holster on his bag and took the AR-15 strapped around his shoulder in his hands.

In the headlights in front of him was at least two dozen of these monsters, all clawing at each other to get at the RV. He turned and ran to the back of the RV, and his stomach dropped when he saw even more of them glowing in the RV’s red brake lights. There was no way they were driving out of this. If they tried to push through the crowd the RV could get stuck on piled bodies. There was no way they could risk that. If the RV became immobile, they were all dead. But there was no way he could shoot them all either. There were more continuing to rush the RV from the sides. Even though Jake knew the trap they’d set wasn’t a good one, it worked. Because they were stuck.

Jake rushed back to the front of the RV and began shooting down the infected that were immediately threatening the windshield. He shot three of them off the hood, but there were more waiting to pop up. They needed a way out of there.

They needed a distraction.

Jake shifted focus to the bridge that was about half a football field away. If he could pull the infected’s focus long enough to move them from the front of the RV, Tyler would be able to pull away. But it wasn’t like he had flares or anything like that. So to create a diversion, he was going to have to be the diversion. He was going to have to get down there with the infected. He pulled what he knew about the area surrounding the bridge up in his mind. He wasn’t very familiar with what was in the direct vicinity of the bridge, but he knew another bridge wasn’t far just to the east. There were actually four bridges in total that connected that part of Newport, Kentucky, to downtown Cincinnati. He knew the next one over wasn’t far by car, but wasn’t sure what it would be like on foot.

At this point, it didn’t really matter. If he didn’t do something, all of them were dead.

Jake shot a couple more climbing infected and pulled out his two-way radio. “Tyler, pick up. Pick up, Tyler.”

“Jake!” Tyler’s reply came back after only a couple of seconds. “What do I do? Reverse? Plow forward? What?”

Jake press the talk button. “Tyler, we’re trapped. You can’t go backward or forward, you’d get stuck. So I need you to listen to me and do exactly what I say, okay?”

Jake watched two more infected climb onto the hood. He shot them both down. It was time to make a move.

“We’re listening!” Tyler said.

“Turn off the RV, and turn off the lights.”

“What?” Tyler’s reply came back immediately. “I can’t turn off the RV!”

“Tyler, we don’t have time for a debate. Shut the engine off and turn out the lights. When you see the infected move out from in front of the RV, turn it back on and get across that bridge as fast you can.”

Jess must have snatched the radio from Tyler’s hand, because it was her voice he heard next. “Jake, whatever you’re planning, don’t do it. I’ll come up and we’ll blast through these things and pull forward.”

“Too many bodies. The RV won’t make it over them. You know it, and I know it. The only way forward is if they are out of the way. I’m going to get them out of the way. Just be ready to drive across that bridge when they’re gone.”

“Jake!”

Jake pocketed the radio and shot two more infected off the top of the hood. His gunfire had only drawn more infected to the RV. Which, at that point, was exactly what he wanted to see. Because that meant they were still attracted to sound. And with the RV’s engine off, all he could do was hope he could make enough sound for the infected to follow him.

Away from the RV.

The radio crackled again.

“Jake!”

Then the lights went black, and the engine shut off.

28

The only sounds Jake could hear after the engine went quiet was the thumping against the RV and the hissing and moaning of the relentless infected.

And it was dark.

The green glow of the Radisson Hotel sign off to his right and some moonlight was the only light that was close. Jake felt for his spare magazine and swapped it with the one that was nearly empty. He took the radio and turned the volume all the way up. Then, he pressed the strobe button, which was a safety feature on the radio, but he doubted it would be enough pulsing light to draw attention. However, when he scrolled to the call test, the ringing was good and loud. He let it sound continuously, like a cell phone with a stuck ringer.

“Jake, please don’t do this!”

Jess had popped her head up through the skylight.

“We don’t have a choice. Keep the radio on and don’t stop driving until you get to the university. I’ll radio you once I get across the river.”

“You’re not getting back in before we cross?”

If he could see her face, he was sure it would be shocked.

“Jess, I have to lead them away. If you stop before you cross and I bring them right back to you, what good would it be? If I’m going to leave you, it’s going to be worth it.”

Jake crouched and walked over to the sunroof opening. “Just be ready and get across. I’ll find a way over. I promise.”

“We’ll wait for you across the river, then. By the Reds stadium?”

“Jess, you can’t. You have to go where the helicopter will be. I have no idea how long it will take me. Or if I will make it there at—”

“Don’t,” Jess interrupted. “Don’t you dare say it, Jake. We’ll get to the university, but only to make sure the helicopter doesn’t leave without you.”

Jess reached up, put her arm around Jake’s neck, and pulled him close. “Be careful. I’ll see you soon. And I love you.” Then she kissed him.

All he wanted to do was crawl down into that RV and stay with them. But he couldn’t. Leaving was the only way to keep them––to keep her safe.

“I love you. See you soon.”

Jake stood up and walked around every side of the RV. The right side looked to have the least amount of infected. That was where he would jump. With the radio set to strobe and continuous ring in his left hand, and the AR-15 in his right, he moved to the edge of the roof. He could see a mass of them ramming into the side of the RV. Just beyond them, there was an opening.

He pointed the AR-15 at the several just below him and squeezed the trigger. He shot five of them and leapt down on top of them, not stopping as he jumped off their bodies and ran into the clearing. He shouted the Star-Spangled Banner as he fired the AR-15 in front of him, sprinting off the interstate and down a grassy hill that led to the parking lot of the Raddison Hotel. In front of him he could see it was a clear path to the parking lot, so he stopped shooting and turned to see if it was working. About twenty-five yards up the hill, a mass of infected humans came sprinting down the hill after him.

Jake thought he heard the RV start up, but he couldn’t be sure. It could have been the groans of the infected. It was still hard to hear over the test ring of the two-way radio. At that point it didn’t matter, because all he had time to do was run. He turned and sprinted down the hill. “And the rocket’s red glare!” His voice was never the best, but it was loud, and the audience liked it enough to follow him away from the RV. To him it felt every bit as good as a standing ovation.

He clipped the radio to his belt line and just barely got the nose of his AR-15 back up in time to shoot into the crowd of infected that had come around the side of the Radisson. It made sense that he wasn’t only attracting them away from the RV, but from other surrounding areas, but he hadn’t thought they would come that fast. He made a hard left and ran toward the river. He didn’t know how much room he would have along the bank, but he did know running there would be safer. There would be less buildings to worry about corners, and less vehicles to block his line of sight.

Jake’s weapon clicked and locked. His magazine was empty. There was no time to rifle through the bag on his back, so he shouldered the AR and pulled his Beretta from his hip holster. A glance back over his shoulder was a sight he would never forget for as long as he lived. It was the stuff of the worst nightmares. There he was, alone, running toward a river in the dark with a sea of bloodthirsty lunatic humans chasing after him. The crowd from the RV and the crowd of them from the hotel parking lot merged into one scary-as-hell wave of monsters.

Up ahead, Jake could see the river water glistening in the light of the moon. He looked up and to the left and saw something that made the nightmare behind him disappear for the moment. He watched the RV’s headlights rolling across the bridge. His plan had worked. Unfortunately for him, he had reached the end of the best-laid plan. The rest was going to have to be improvisation.

29

“I can’t believe it worked!” Tyler shouted for about the fourth time since pulling forward onto the bridge.

Jess could believe it. Though she obviously had never seen Jake in his element with Delta Forces, and he would never tell her how great he was himself, she had met a few of his fellow soldiers. Once the drinks kicked in, not one of them could stop singing his praises. And though that was great, this wasn’t what he had been trained for. This was something different entirely, and not a second would go by without worry until she saw him again.

Tyler maneuvered around some cars on the bridge, and before they knew it, they were in downtown Cincinnati.

“I have no idea where to go,” Tyler said. “Did he say where to meet him?”

“The university,” Jess said as she opened the message Jake had sent hours ago with the turn-by-turn directions.

“University? We can’t leave him behind like that. Are you crazy?”

“No. But your friend is. It’s what he wanted. This way we can make sure the helicopter doesn’t leave without him.”

Tyler was quiet.

“Just stay straight on the interstate. I’ll tell you when to turn.”

The road wasn’t nearly as crowded as she’d thought it would be. They were forced to creep along, but it was nothing they couldn’t get past. The lights of downtown were still shining bright. For whatever reason, she felt like it offered a glimmer of hope. She realized it was probably psychological, because the facts were that the only thing they’d seen in a hundred miles was a horde of dead humans trying to attack them.

Can you believe they trapped us? How do you think it’s possible?” Jess said.

“Jake and I have a couple of theories, but he thinks I’m crazy.”

“Well, he’s right about that.”

Jess leaned over from the passenger seat and gave him a solid pat on the shoulder.

“But I figure crazy is where we are now, so you fit right in.”

Tyler laughed. “Yeah. I guess. We both thought they were evolving, and obviously they are. We just don’t agree on how.”

“So . . .” Jess waited.

“So, I said it was obviously aliens getting used to their new hosts, and Jake just laughed at me.”

“Laughed?”

“Yeah, laughed.”

“Had he forgotten all the craziness that has happened today?”

Tyler pounded the steering wheel. “That’s what I said!”

“Well, like I said, you are crazy, but so is everything else. But you really think it’s aliens?”

“Really? No. That’s just my twelve-year-old self’s fantasy. It’s probably just the effects of being infected. The virus shifting, allowing them to use their old brains a little.”

Jess felt a lot better about that explanation. “Yeah, that makes much more sense.”

Tyler had to slow down almost to a stop as he tried to find a way around a row of cars that nearly blocked the entire five lanes.

“You see any open spots?”

They both scanned the row of abandoned cars glowing in their headlights.

“There. Over on the right. I think there is room between the guardrail.”

Tyler turned the wheel to the right and eased over that way. “Looks like enough space.”

“You got this? I’m going to go check on Amy.”

“Yeah, but hurry back. I have no idea where I’m going.”

“We’re looking for the Martin Luther King Jr. exit. But I’ll be back in just a second.”

Jess left Tyler to navigate the opening on his own. She was proud of the way he’d handled everything. A couple of years ago the maturity level wouldn’t have been there to do anything on his own. When Jake had left for the Army, Tyler was lost. Jake was all the family Tyler had had for years. He dove deep into drugs and games, hardly even coming out of the house for air. But recently he had been using that gaming experience to actually make a nice living. It was good to see. And Jess was certainly happy she had the more mature version of him in the current disaster.

After stopping for a drink of water, Jess quietly opened the door to the only private bedroom. Amy was sound asleep on her side, headphones still on––Jess could hear a beat coming from them. She felt great sadness when she looked at Amy. On a scale of horrible days, hers had to have been off the charts. She’d lost literally everything she ever loved in a matter of hours. Now she was rolling along with a group of strangers, without any idea where she was going, or what was going on. In an odd twist, though Amy had the worst day ever, she was also incredibly lucky. If Jake hadn’t risked his life for hers, she would be dead.

Jess shut the door and took a quiet moment to sit on the adjacent lower bunk bed outside the bedroom. Jake had been doing a lot of saving over the course of the last day. Something that came so natural to him. She supposed that if she were a psychologist, she would say what drives him to continue to push to help and save people was that he was trying to save his parents with every new attempt. Maybe somehow it was healing for him in a way. Or maybe it was what was leaving him still so broken. She was sad that Jake and Colt had grown apart, especially since she remembered when they were so inseparable. But now she could certainly relate. Her sister was gone forever. And she hadn’t been able to get ahold of her parents in Florida. She hadn’t had time to grieve, however, because she was too busy trying to survive herself.

The RV sped up and jerked her backward a bit. It wasn’t a natural acceleration. Something was wrong.

“Jess!” Tyler shouted. “Jess, we’ve got company!”

Jess jumped from the bed and ran to the front of the RV. “What? What’s going on?”

“Someone is behind us!” Tyler was panicking.

He pointed to the passenger-side mirror. Sure enough, a pair of headlights danced in the road behind them. Then they began to flash. Her first thought, a crazy thought born from her and Tyler’s conversation a moment ago, was that the infected had already figured out how to drive. But she shook that off when the memory of them still savagely trying to attack the RV flashed in her mind.

“What do I do? Who the hell could they be?”

Jess tried to keep calm. “I don’t know, but we can’t stop. Our exit is right up ahead. Just take it and maybe they’ll leave us alone.”

“You really think they’re going to leave us alone? Probably the only other uninfected people they’ve seen in a long time? With a fridge full of food and Beritrix, and a hot woman on board? You think—”

“Tyler!” Jess tried to stop his line of thought. “I said don’t stop. Just take this exit and we’ll try to keep moving.”

The vehicle behind them began to honk their horn. Part of Jess wanted to stop. Wanted to find more people like them that were trying to survive. There was strength in numbers. Unfortunately, after what happened at Walmart, her and Tyler were both very wary of other people. Tyler turned off the interstate onto their exit. The truck blocking the road in front of them made their decision easy enough.

They had no choice but to stop.

30

The woman in the white lab coat reached out her hand. “Hello, I’m Dr. Kendall, but please, call me Elaine.”

She had a kind face. There were the beginnings of crow’s feet in the outer corners of her eyes and a few small lines in her forehead, but no gray to speak of in her dark hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. She wasn’t a tall woman, but she clearly stayed fit.

“Dr. Fraser, but call me Emily.” Emily gave the doctor’s hand a firm shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m sure you are tired, as am I, so I won’t take up too much of your time.”

“Time,” Elaine said with a smile. “Sort of irrelevant now, isn’t it? Especially down here in this hole. Feels like late afternoon, not one in the morning.”

“I was wondering how it would be being down here for a while.”

“I’ve been here for a year. You don’t really get used to it. Of course, I always went back up top to my home at night prior to, well, the world ending and all.”

Another smile. Though she made it seem as if she wasn’t tired, she certainly looked it.

Emily sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “It still seems like a nightmare I’m hoping to wake up from.”

“My assistant tells me you were one of the first to see this thing blossom. I’d love to hear more about it, and I’m sure you want to know more about Karen in there.”

“Karen?” Emily said.

“She still had her purse on her when our men captured her on the street, if you can believe it. ID, credit cards, driver’s license and all.”

“Guess there’s no worry of identity theft at this point,” Emily joked.

She felt at ease around Elaine. It was nice. They shared a laugh.

“How did this happen? Were you able to trace anything back to the first sign of infection in Syria?”

“It wasn’t like Karen, I can tell you that,” Emily said.

“In what way do you mean?”

“I got called in from the cafeteria that one of the soldiers was acting strange. ‘Wigging out’ were the exact words. He wasn’t talking, but was pacing the room aggressively and lunging at other soldiers without touching them. I was lucky they had decided to strap him down. Otherwise, he probably would have killed me. I began running tests, but nothing seemed strange in his blood. Nothing viral was occurring, and I was beginning to chalk it up to a mental breakdown.”

“Not even a fever?” Elaine said.

“Nothing. Until the convulsions. They weren’t violent, almost more like tremors, I guess you could say. I gave him a sedative and he fell asleep for a few hours. Overnight, in fact.”

“Any change in vital signs at all?”

Emily thought it over. “His heartrate was increasing slowly, but nothing significant.”

“When did you realize there was a problem?”

“When I was woken up at four in the morning by military police. Three more soldiers had begun showing the same symptoms. But the convulsions had manifested faster. It was then that we started wearing masks, guarding against infection. At that point, though, it was too late. And of course I didn’t know it at the time, but if I hadn’t been on Beritrix, I would have already been infected myself.”

Elaine walked over and took a seat beside Emily. “So others were becoming infected. What then?”

“I had the MPs quarantine the infected, and those who had come in contact. It was too late for that as well, but it did slow the process. I knew we were in trouble when patient zero awoke about an hour later that morning.”

“He was more aggressive?”

“Yes, but that wasn’t what scared me.”

“Was it his eyes?” Elaine said.

“Yes,” Emily said. A chill ran down her spine just thinking about it. “It started at the outsides of his eyes and slowly moved inward until they were completely black.”

“Wow.”

“Right? After that, each soldier that became infected, it happened faster and faster. Like whatever infected them was getting better and better at bypassing the immune system.”

“And now it’s evolved to the point where the aggression is slowly beginning to subside. At least that’s what we’ve seen in the three infected we have here. Were you able to watch Karen’s reaction to any words?”

“Hungry,” Emily said. “She leaned in when you said hungry.”

“Yeah, it’s creepy. She only reacted to emotional words. But we have a serious flaw in being able to determine the level of evolution.”

Emily already knew the problem. “We don’t know when and how long anyone has been infected.”

“Right. The only way we could know is if we infected a few people and watched from the beginning. Oddly enough, no one has volunteered as of yet.”

They both laughed.

Their moment of levity was interrupted when Elaine’s assistant burst into the room. “Doctor, you have to come quick!”

Elaine stood up, and Emily’s heart began to race.

Elaine said. “What is it?”

“She spoke . . . Karen . . . she spoke!”

Elaine looked at Emily––both of them were shocked to hear it.

Emily couldn’t help but ask, “What did she say?”

Elaine’s assistant had a bewildered look on her face when she answered.

“Amy.”

31

Jake wanted to make it to the riverbank, but at the last minute he figured unless he was willing to swim across, it would probably be best to be careful not to trap himself in that direction. The infected had only been chasing from behind him before, but they could also come from other angles. If the only way out was to swim, that left him with no options and a possible ruined radio in the process. So instead of potentially trapping himself by the water, there was one last parking lot before the hill ran down to the river, so he decided to make a quick right behind the hotel and jump in the back of a pickup truck to wait and see where the infected would go. It was a dangerous play, but so was continuing to run blindly around the corner of buildings or straight to the edge of the water. He needed to see their habits when things were quiet. He silenced the ring on his radio.

The worst part about being in the bed of the truck was hearing them moan and hiss as they ran by. He felt like he was in the middle of a movie scene where the hero was about to expire. He also had a lot of things on him that made a lot of noise when he moved against the aluminum truck bed, making it very hard to ease upward to take a look at his surroundings. But he had to look.

Jake first rolled over onto his side. He held his axe in place with one hand, and the AR-15 with the other. He made no noise, success number one. He then propped himself up on his left elbow, keeping his head low for the moment. Again, no noise. He was almost there. The sounds of the savages continued to swirl all around him. Inch by inch he raised his head, slowly moving it from left to right and ensuring he could see all angles. What he saw shocked him. It was as if the infected were a pack of wolves, moving together while hunting him.

Some of the pack were searching along the riverbank, the parking lot’s tall lights glowing over them. Some of them were going back up the hill where he’d come from the RV. He supposed they were trying to make sure Jake didn’t go back there, and probably to see if the RV was still trapped. There were also several wandering the parking lot itself. These few obviously concerned him the most, as they were the most imminent threat. Any wrong move now and they would be on him. And he would be forced to shoot them, which would once again attract the horde and put him directly back to start without passing GO. Whatever he decided to do, he had to do it quietly. His life depended on it.

“Jake! Can you hear me? We don’t know what to do! We’re trapped on the road by other humans!”

Because Jake’s entire reason for running from the RV was to be a distraction, he had set the radio’s volume as high as it would go. When he’d jumped into the back of the pickup truck, he’d killed the test ring and the strobe light, but he’d made his first major mistake of the day by not turning the radio off entirely. Tyler’s shouts through the speaker nearly echoed out of that truck bed.

Jake didn’t have to look to know they were coming. He switched the radio off, stuffed it in his pocket, rose to his feet, and hurdled over the truck’s gate. As soon as his feet hit the blacktop he ran right, heading toward an adjacent neighborhood while he looked left and watched the infected in the parking lot race toward him. He didn’t have to shoot, which was lucky, but he had no idea what he was running toward. This was a heavily populated area of Northern Kentucky, so the number of possible infected would be in the tens of thousands. His best bet out of there would be to find a car and make a drive for it. But finding enough time to escape the infected long enough to not only find an unlocked car, but also one that had the keys in it, was going to take some finesse. His combat skills were as good as they get. What separates a Delta operator from all the other soldiers is the ability to also outsmart the enemy. To find a way to beat them by taking advantage of their biggest weakness. And though they were obviously getting better at putting things together, they were still way behind the curve.

Jake jumped a chain-link fence separating the parking lot from the neighborhood. He glanced over his shoulder and saw what looked to be a half-dozen infected giving chase. The time it took them to either go over the fence, or through it, might give him the window needed to get into a house. He thought it fitting to use their own tactics against them. They’d set a trap for someone coming across the bridge. He was going to set a trap for them.

As he approached the first of a row of houses, he wanted to radio Tyler, but there was nothing he could say to help. If they were trapped, Jake just had to hope the people were still reasonable, and not like the men they’d encountered in Walmart. Radioing now would be a mistake. It would have to wait until he made it to a car and was on his way to the university.

Behind him, the infected had evolved enough to climb a fence. What a difference a few hours makes. He’d probably showed them how to do it just now. All it meant was that he was going to have to be fast, so he ran up the driveway of the first house and tried the door. Locked. He bolted for the second house––the infected were over the fence, but still about a football field away. The second house was locked, and so was the third, but the fourth knob turned and the door opened. He rushed inside, his axe at the ready, just in case it was like Amy’s house and the owners were still home.

In front of him was an open entryway, a staircase going up the right side, a second-story balcony that overlooked the front door, and what he assumed was a living room of some sorts on the other side. It was a lucky break. He rushed up the stairs and pulled out his silenced Beretta. At the top, he had a perfect view of the front door, and if one of the infected happened to get by his bullets, he would be able to shoot it in the back of the head on the other side.

Jake pulled back the slide to load a round from the magazine, went down on his right knee, rested his elbow on his left thigh, placed his gun hand in his propped left hand, and waited for the first of the infected to come running through the door, all while tuning his ears to the house, making sure nothing was already in there with him. It was quiet, so he felt confident he was alone.

The infected that were coming for him didn’t stand a chance.

32

Jess watched as Tyler slowed the RV and anxiously awaited a response from Jake. If she had known Tyler was going to radio him, she would have stopped him. God only knew what predicament Jake was in after making the infected chase him. She was trying not to think about it, because she knew if anyone could handle himself out there it was Jake. But the last thing she wanted to do was make it harder for him. However, now that it had already been done, she anxiously awaited his voice to chime in.

Waiting for that, coupled with the danger that surrounded them, was enough to make her sick with worry. She racked the slide on the twelve-gauge shotgun, but at the same time prayed she wouldn’t have to use it.

“What are we going to do, Jess? What if they try to kill us?”

“Just stop the RV and keep the doors locked. I’ll do the talking.”

She had no idea what that meant, but she thought better her than Tyler to speak to the strangers. When he got skittish, a lot of dumb shit had the tendency to roll out of his mouth. The two trucks up ahead of them that were turned parallel had both sets of headlights on, but she couldn’t see anyone outside of them yet. She rushed back to the bedroom. Amy pulled off her headphones and sat up with a frightened look when she saw Jess with the shotgun.

“Everything’s going to be okay. We’re blocked on the road, but not by infected. People we can actually talk to.”

Amy’s face turned even more scared. “Like the man at Walmart? Are they going to hurt us?”

“Not like the man at Walmart. I promise. We’ll be fine, okay? Just stay in here until I talk to them.”

Jess didn’t like lying to Amy, but some lies were necessary. What she told her could be true. But just as likely, Amy’s fears would be correct, and while they may not want the RV itself, they could want the food and Beritrix that was inside. And God willing nothing more than that.

Amy nodded, but continued sitting up. Jess moved to the window over the bed and peeked through the blinds. The large SUV behind them had stopped, and someone was walking toward them. Jess’s heart began to pound and she had to swallow the rising fear when in the red glow of the RV’s taillights she made out a large man carrying an equally large gun.

“Stay in here, Amy. No matter what. Understand?”

Amy nodded. Her expression told Jess everything. She believed the worst was about to happen. Jess’s hands were shaking as she held tight to the shotgun. Apparently her subconscious felt the same way. She tried a few in-through-the-nose, out-through-the-mouth deep breaths. Ever since she began teaching yoga over the past year, she had become better at centering herself and controlling her impulse emotions. She was going to have to Namaste the hell out of the next few minutes, just to avoid a gun fight.

As she approached the door, she’d made up her mind that she was going to go ahead and step out of the RV. It was dangerous, especially with a shotgun in her hand, but she didn’t want the man coming inside and realizing how good they had it. And stepping out would also help keep Amy safe, and Tyler from shooting off his mouth. But she really didn’t want to get out. She really just wanted to crawl under the bunk bed and let Jake do the talking. If only Jake were there. He had already saved their ass once. Jess mustered up all the courage she could find inside her, because it was her turn to take one for the team.

“Stay in here and protect Amy no matter what, you hear me?” She tried to say it with as much steel in her voice as she could, even though she was a quivering mess just below the surface.

“What? You can’t go out there. You can’t—”

“I can’t let them in here. They’re either going to try to rob and kill us, or they aren’t. If they shoot me, plow right through those trucks and drive like your life depends on it. Because it will.”

“Jess, you—”

“Just be ready,” she cut him off and opened the door.

Jess wanted to just rip off the bandaid, and before she knew it, she was standing outside holding the gun over her head as the man stopped at the back of the RV.

Jess made sure her voice wasn’t shaky. “My shotgun is above my head, but make no mistake. There are three more guns pointed at you from inside the RV if you try anything.”

The man raised his gun and Jess’s stomach dropped to the ground.

“Don’t move,” he said.

The man was big. Real big. Like Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson kind of big. Bald like him too, and the gun he was holding looked like Jake’s AR-15. These guys weren’t messing around. Jess’s instinct was to put the shotgun on him, but she fought it, because she didn’t want to make the situation seem hostile if there was a chance it wouldn’t be.

Jess said. “Take your gun off of me or they’ll shoot you. I don’t want that to happen, but the people in the RV don’t know your intentions.”

Jess felt herself literally shaking in her boots. Though it wasn’t all that hot, she was sweating. The fumes from the RV’s exhaust were wafting her way, and the sickness of the day was finally setting in. She’d been strong for so long. Her sister and nephew were gone, she hadn’t been able to get ahold of her parents––so they were most likely gone––she’d watched Tom get his neck chewed to pieces, Jake was all alone with a horde of infected on his heels, and now this. She had a very large man with a very large gun holding her hostage in the middle of a road where she didn’t know if there was any way out. Just because some woman that clearly had feelings for Jake says so? Her head was starting to spin. If she didn’t calm down she was in trouble. She took a deep breath, but it felt like a penny in a well. Empty.

“I don’t know your intentions,” he said. He took a big step forward.

“You stopped us. Not the other way around. We don’t—”

Jess’s legs wobbled.

She tried again. “We don’t—”

Everything went dark, and oddly enough, the last thing she thought before her body gave out on her was that she should have had something to eat.

33

They should have been here by now.

Jake maintained his pose, gun held toward the door, finger on the trigger. It hadn’t been very long, but it had been long enough. The infected that were after him had been on their way over the fence when he opened the door to the house. Even at a slow pace, it shouldn’t have taken more than twenty seconds for them to arrive. It had been over a minute.

His mind was telling him to move to one of the windows that looked out over the neighborhood and see what was happening. His heart was telling him they would be running through the open door below him at any second and to hold position and end the bastards. However, the seconds kept ticking by, and not only did he not see them, he couldn’t hear anything from them either.

What if they went back to get the others?

Jake shook that thought from mind. It was outrageous to think they would double back for more support. Wasn’t it? He felt his pulse quicken just thinking about it. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Jess and Tyler flashed in his mind. He wasn’t good at letting the thoughts of them being in trouble leave him. But he could not afford to have a split conscience. Not now. Something was definitely going on, and it was time to find out what.

He eased out of his crouch, never moving the gun from the front door. He raised it up over the banister and continued walking to the right on the balcony. It was dark in the house, but there was enough light from the street, and the moon gave him walkable visibility. He hadn’t heard a sound from inside the house since he’d been in there. At least he didn’t have to deal with that. He came to a wall and finally moved his gun. He took one look back around the wall toward the front door. Just in case. There was nothing. He was starting to get antsy, and he could feel a small pit forming in his stomach.

Once past the wall, he came to a door. He knew the window would give him a view of the direction he’d just run from. He wasn’t sure what he hoped to see, but he was ready to know. In the back of his mind a hopeful thought lingered that maybe these things couldn’t see that far in front of them, and that they had lost him when he ran from the fence. But his experience back in his neighborhood when Tom blew the SUVs, and they’d all gone running for it squashed that optimistic thought.

Jake eased open the door. Being quiet at every turn had already become second nature. It was even brighter in the room because of the concentrated lights of the night coming in the window. It was a children’s room. He could tell by the decorations. The small bed filled with stuffed animals. Not more than a day ago, a child had played happily in this room, no idea the nightmare that was coming. Jake looked to his right and saw maybe the creepiest thing he’d seen all day. A curio cabinet full of spooky dolls. Every eye, it seemed, was focused directly on his own. Why anyone would want a bunch of dolls looking at them while they slept was another of life’s incredible mysteries.

The irony of the dolls creeping him out in the situation he was currently maneuvering through was comical, even in such an intense moment. However, the closer he came to the windows, and to being able to watch what the infected were up to, the humor of the situation quickly faded. The first thing he saw out the window was the top of the hotel in the distance. He couldn’t see the rest of it because of the trees, but the parking lot he was hiding in was just to the right of it. With every step he took toward the window, more of the street below came into view, and it was immediately apparent that he had made a massive mistake.

He had underestimated them.

They had doubled back for the rest.

There was a sea of infected just below him. They’d come by the dozen. All the hairs on his body stood on end. His heart raced and his stomach dropped. These things no longer needed light or sound to draw them to a location––they were clearly communicating with each other. Instinct made Jake’s hands holster his pistol and pull a fresh AR-15 magazine from his pocket. He locked the magazine in place and loaded a round into the rifle’s chamber. But he didn’t have the weaponry to survive a battle with this many infected.

Jake was now standing at the window, looking out over the mass of infected. They weren’t hostile. It was as if they were a platoon of soldiers, patiently awaiting their orders. Not moving at all. Dead still. Until they weren’t.

In one motion, the infected mass below him collectively moved their heads upward until every single one of them was staring through the window at Jake. There was something beyond fear that sparked inside him. Beyond any reality his brain was meant to comprehend. For a moment, he was lost. He couldn’t move. It was as if they were sucking him in somehow, and all he could do was stare back at them.

The front door is open.

Finally, a rational thought squeezed through the distress.

All of these things are out there waiting for you, Jake, and the front door is open. What are you doing? MOVE!

Jake shook his head and snapped back to the cold reality. His body caught up with his mind. He turned from the window and rushed out the bedroom. He sprinted across the balcony and practically flew down the stairs, sliding into the door and slamming it shut. He turned the deadbolt––not that it would do any good––then took a deep breath to settle his nerves. Once again, the only advantage he had over them was to outthink them. He’d underestimated them once––he wasn’t going to do it again.

His first thought was the garage. If there was a car in there, with the keys in it, he could make a break for it. In hindsight, it was what he should have done the moment he walked through the door for the first time. But he hadn’t, and now he was going to have to make something happen. Even if there was a car, or even better some sort of SUV or truck, he couldn’t just back out, because there were too many of them standing at the front of the house to run over them and keep going. Backing over them he’d probably be okay, but once he tried to go forward again, he’d be stuck. Especially if it were only a passenger car.

Before he could take the time to check the garage, he needed a plan to get them to move. He knew he was going to have to do the exact thing he didn’t want to do. He was going to have to make them come in the house. But how?

Fire.

Would they still be attracted to it? It was very possible the answer was no. Did he have a choice? Also no. Jake sprinted under the balcony, into the living room, then made a left into the kitchen. The stove was gas, a lucky break. He turned all six available burners all the way to high. Fire rose from the stovetop and he began digging through the drawers. That’s when he heard the first thump against the door.

They were coming.

The first drawer was silverware. The second was full of measuring cups and stainless kitchen tools. The third held what he needed––towels. He grabbed them with both hands and threw them on the fire. He noticed drapes hanging above the window that overlooked the backyard and he yanked them off the rack and tossed them atop the now heavily flaming stove. When he did that, he also noticed for the first time that something was in the window. Two black eyes staring at him, the fire flickering inside them.

That’s when he noticed the window was open.

And that’s when he heard the front door burst inward.

Jake reached the knob and set the oven to bake.

The infected in the window began to reach through. Jake raised his gun, but before he could squeeze the trigger, the monster hissed something at him.

“Amy.”

34

When Emily, Elaine, and Elaine’s assistant Jennifer walked into the room, Karen––the infected woman–– was just sitting quietly and staring off into space as if watching a movie in her mind’s eye. Elaine and Jennifer had to suit up before walking in. Against their protests, Emily did not.

Elaine said, “Jennifer, can you get me her vitals from the time she spoke to you?”

“I have it on my tablet. Let me pull up the video to get the right timestamp.”

“What are you looking for?” Emily said.

“I just want to see if there is any bump in heart rate, or anything we can measure when she spoke. See if there is emotion there, or if it’s just some sort of synapse incident.”

“You mean you want to know if the name ‘Amy’ has an emotional meaning to her.”

“Basically,” Elaine said. She then walked over in front of Karen. “Amy.”

There was no movement.

“Karen,” Elaine tried again. “Does the name Amy mean something to you?”

Nothing.

“Amy. Amy. Amy,” Elaine repeated.

Emily didn’t know anything about behavioral science. However, she imagined that if you wanted an emotional response, you had to try to speak with emotion.

“Elaine,” Emily said. “Do you mind if I talk to her? Maybe someone she hasn’t spoken with before will help?”

“By all means. I’m willing to try anything.”

Emily walked over to a chair and pulled it over in front of Karen. The closer Emily drew to Karen, the more pronounced her veins seemed. Like blue streets on a road map. The blackness of her eyes up close was chilling. Nowhere in any of Emily’s medical background had she ever heard of anything that could turn eyes completely black. Florescent lights in the white room were gleaming off of them, and Emily could see her reflection dead in their center.

“Hi, Karen.” Emily felt awkward. She had no idea how to do this, but she was the type that always liked to dive right in. She had always been the first to volunteer on dissecting days, and always the first to jump off the steep cliff at Lake Chickamauga where she’d grown up just outside of Chattanooga, Tennessee. So, she dove. “My name is Emily, and I would love to get to know you. Can you tell me what happened to you?”

No response from Karen, and no laughing from Elaine and Jennifer. One out of two wasn’t bad.

“I’m sorry this has happened to you,” Emily continued. “Where are you from?”

“This isn’t going to work,” Jennifer spoke up.

Elaine shut Jennifer down, “Just give her a minute. And give me those vitals.”

Emily settled in with the approval from Elaine.

“No jump in vitals,” said Jennifer. “No waver in any of them since we hooked her up.”

Emily turned to Jennifer. “So she does have a heartbeat? She isn’t dead?”

“She isn’t a zombie, if that’s what you mean,” Elaine answered. “At least not in the George A. Romero sense.”

Emily nodded. She didn’t know whether that was good or bad. She supposed it could be great news that the infected stayed alive, if they did happen to find a cure one day.

“Karen, do you know a woman named Amy?”

Karen didn’t even blink. Hadn’t since Emily sat down.

“Is she your sister? Your daughter?”

Emily looked over to Elaine. Elaine nodded for her to keep trying.

“Why is Amy important to you?”

This wasn’t working. Emily got up and walked away from Karen. She couldn’t stare into those soulless eyes for another second.

“Maybe it was just a fluke that she said it. Are we sure it wasn’t just a noise that sounded like Amy?”

Jennifer said, “It was Amy. Plain as day. I can play it back for you.”

Emily was about to tell her it wasn’t necessary, but she was interrupted by a frantic knocking at the door. All three of the women in the room jumped. There was a man in the same air-tight suit as Elaine and Jennifer pounding on the glass air-lock door. Elaine rushed over and let him in.

“Jesus, Dan, you scared us to death. What the—”

“John Doe spoke. Can you believe it? He spoke!”

Dan’s face was red inside his helmet. He was clearly worked up.

“So did Karen,” Elaine said. “What did he say.”

Dan whipped his head over to Karen. He was wild eyed. He apparently had never seen such excitement in his line of work before. “She spoke?”

“She did,” Elaine said. “Now what did John Doe say, Dan?”

“I––I have no idea what it means, but he just said the name Amy. That’s it, nothing else, just Amy. Plain as day.”

The three women shared a bewildered look. What just moments ago seemed like something of a fluke didn’t seam anything of the sort now. The word Amy definitely meant something. But more disturbing was that they both had said it.

“When did he say it?” Emily said.

“What are you thinking, Emily?” Elaine said.

“What did Karen say?” Dan said.

“The same thing. Amy,” Emily said. “When did your John Doe say it?”

“Wait, Karen not only spoke, but she said the same thing as John? You’re joking.”

“We’re not,” Elaine said. “Now answer Emily’s question.”

“When did he say it? I, well, just a few minutes ago, I guess. We wanted to play the video back to make sure before we came and told you.”

“No, Dan,” Emily said. “I mean, when exactly, to the tenth of a second, did John Doe say the word Amy?”

Dan looked over at another man that was standing just inside the door. “Craig?”

Craig pulled out a tablet and moved his covered finger around. For a few seconds, no one said a word. They were all lost in their own spinning thoughts.

Elaine broke the silence. “Jennifer, pull up the exact time when Karen spoke.” Then she turned to Emily. “What are you thinking, Emily?”

“Well, it’s not a coincidence either way, right? There’s no chance two different infected would say the same exact name out of coincidence. That alone means we are dealing with much more than a virus, if we didn’t already know it.”

“Okay, I agree. But what does the time matter?”

“It may not.” Emily was quiet for a moment as she tried to gather her thoughts. “But it might give us a clue as to how big this thing actually is. A clue into its significance.”

“I’m not following.” Elaine walked over closer to Emily. “Don’t be shy now.”

Emily nodded. “If they said it at the exact same moment––and I do mean exact––we could be dealing with something much larger than what we know.”

“We’ve established that already,” Dan said. “Nothing in our medical history as humans shows anything like this.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Emily said. “I don’t know exactly what I mean. It’s just that . . . If the times are somehow exact, it would mean that there is the possibility of a hive mentality happening. One consciousness. A singular viewpoint somehow, interconnecting all of the infected.”

“That’s crazy.” Jennifer had to stop herself from laughing out loud.

The look on Elaine’s face was like a laser beam of anger when she turned her eyes to Jennifer. “There is an apocalypse on the surface level, yet you think what Emily just said is crazy?”

Jennifer didn’t respond.

“Emily, what do you think that would mean?”

Emily tried to reel it in a little. They didn’t even know if it had happened at the same time.

“Like I said, I don’t know. But no point in speculating until we know the—”

“2:32.24 am,” Jennifer interrupted.

Everyone looked over to Craig. Craig did something with his index finger on the tablet, and then went white as a ghost. He looked up, his eyes wide, and everyone waited for what they already knew was coming.

“2:32.24 am.”

35

The drone of muffled voices swam in Jess’s head. At least she thought it was muffled voices. It could have been talk radio, but why would her mom be listening to that in the middle of the night? Jess felt the fold of the sheets beneath her. But they didn’t feel like her sheets. She always slept with a fan on for white noise, and she definitely didn’t hear that. She rolled her head around the pillow to stretch her neck as she felt for her stuffed animals. But there were none.

Jess shot straight up and for a moment was entirely lost when she opened her eyes. This wasn’t her bedroom at the house she’d grown up in, but then again, why would it be? She hadn’t lived in her childhood home in more than ten years, and hadn’t slept with stuffed animals in almost twenty. A second later, the nightmare of the situation came back to her. She was in the back of the RV. The voices must be Jake and Tyler.

But Jake wasn’t there.

She gave her face a good rub with both hands, trying to recall exactly how she got there. And where was Amy? Then the memory of the man with the gun outside the RV flashed in front of her, and she remembered feeling faint before he shot her. Did he shoot her? She did a quick assessment of her body. No holes that she could find.

“Wait,” she whispered to herself. “How did I get in here? Are Tyler and Amy okay?”

She saw her shotgun propped against the wall beside the door. She threw the sheets off of her and jumped out of bed. Wobbled once, then regained her balance. Wobbled again, shook her head, and grabbed the shotgun. She opened the door and pulled her shotgun up to a shoot-ready position as she stepped into the hall. Tyler, Amy, the big man with the big gun, and two other strangers whirled their heads around.

“Whoah, Jess! Put the gun down!” Tyler held up his hands and moved toward her.

“What the hell are they doing in here?”

“It’s okay, Jess.”

“It’s not okay!” She pointed to the big man. “He tried to kill us!”

Tyler put his hand on the barrel of the shotgun and pushed it downward. “No he didn’t. I was watching through the window. You started to wobble on your feet, and he rushed in and caught you before you hit the pavement.”

Jess obviously didn’t remember that, as she was already unconscious, but it didn’t align with how the men had forced them to stop, or his demeanor as he’d approached her and the RV.

The big man stood up, took a step forward, and extended his hand. “Bryan. Sorry if I scared you before.”

Jess took a step back. His skin was tanned, and it made his blue eyes look like there were lights on behind them. Amy ran beside him and threw her arms around Jess.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!”

Jess gave a small smile to Amy and patted her on the back.

“It’s okay, Jess. Really,” Tyler said.

Jess looked Bryan in the eye. “Why did you force us to stop?”

“Well . . .” His voice was deep. “We didn’t know exactly where to go after the whole pandemic happened. We figured if a car was driving down the road, they probably hadn’t caught the virus, and maybe they knew somewhere to go. Sorry about the way we stopped you, but it was the only way.”

It made sense to Jess. Not everyone had a contact like Jake did, directing them to a possible safe haven. She softened a bit, but didn’t take his hand. “Who is we, exactly.”

“Like I said, I’m Bryan. The skinny one is Jason, and the ugly one beside him is Mark.”

They both said hello.

“Sorry to barge in on you like this,” Mark said.

Jess was still trying to let everything sink in. Amy went back to happily eating her meal while the adults worked it all out.

Bryan continued. “We all pretty much just met. But they are good guys. Apparently, Beritrix ended up being a life saver. At least for us. And Tyler was telling me your man Jake kept you from getting it with Beritrix too. Crazy, right?”

“You have no idea what we’ve been through.” Jess was still on edge.

Bryan shifted his weight and took a step back. “No offense, ma’am, but I assure you we do. My wife tried to eat me a few hours ago, and both these guys lost their families. So excuse me if I disagree completely.”

Now Jess felt terrible. Of course these guys knew what she’d been through. They’d been battling this thing the same as her and her friends.

“I––I’m sorry. I’m just playing catch up here. I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bryan interrupted. “We’re a scary bunch, especially coming out of nowhere. I’m just glad you didn’t shoot me out there. That took guts walking out of the RV to meet me. Real guts.”

Jess let down her guard. “Thank you. Embarrassing that I passed out, but thank you. Though the real hero is out there right now alone running from the infected. I was just trying to be brave while he was gone.”

“Tyler told me what he did. I can’t wait to meet him. Jake, is it?”

Jess nodded.

“Yeah, sounds like a brave man.”

“You have no idea,” she said. Then realized she should probably stop saying that.

Amy came back over to Jess and handed her a plate. “Here, Bryan said you needed to eat. He said it wasn’t you being scared that made you pass out, said it was your blood sugar.”

Jess took the plate and smiled at Amy. Then smiled at Bryan.

“You okay to talk?” Bryan said. “I don’t think we should sit here on this exit much longer. Never know when those things could be coming.”

Jess nodded and took a seat at the table. The men moved around to make sure she had room.

“Tyler said that Jake knew someone in DC. Said that’s where you’ve been getting your information. Straight from the president?”

Jess was put off that Tyler had shared so much.

“Before you answer,” Bryan said, “we don’t mean to intrude. We’re just talking it all out. We had a woman with us earlier who swears when she was in the store that a radio broadcast said there was a safe zone in Columbus. About two hours from here.”

“Where is she now?” Jess said.

“She left for there immediately. We were going to go, but first we had to check and see if Mark’s family was okay, or not.”

Jess definitely understood the feeling.

“We still don’t know if it’s the best move, driving all the way to Columbus. We were hoping to find some place safe here in Cincinnati. That’s why we were hanging around the interstate. Trying to get lucky that a car with some info would come by. Didn’t expect to find someone communicating with the president.”

Jess finished chewing her bite of sandwich. Though there wasn’t much on it, it was about the best sandwich she’d ever had. “Not the president. Just someone with him.”

“Same thing to me.” Bryan smiled. “Look, I figure if we help you find Jake, maybe you’ll let us see about this professor and the helicopter? If there isn’t enough room, we stay behind.”

“It’s not up to me. But thank you for offering to find Jake. He told us to meet him at the university. I know Jake. He’ll be there. Probably already is.”

“Jess,” Tyler said. “We still haven’t heard from him. I keep trying, but . . . nothing.”

Tyler looked defeated. And Jess felt defeated, but no way was she going to let that negativity steer her. “He’ll be there.” She looked at Bryan. “You guys are welcome to follow, but I can’t make any promises on what will happen when we get there. All of this may be for nothing. There may not be a professor, and there may never be a helicopter.”

Bryan nodded. “I understand. But, if it’s all the same to you, we don’t have a better plan. At least together we have a better chance of getting there safely.”

In that moment, Jess was thankful they had run into Bryan. But there was still a part of her that wouldn’t let them all the way in. Her guard would stay up. All she cared about was seeing Jake again. Anything else would be a bonus.

36

For a moment Jake was frozen. Even though the infected man was crawling through the window, even though the fire was rising on the stove and at any moment could ignite from the gas in the oven, and even though he heard the front door burst inward, the infected surely right at his back, he couldn’t move. This thing, this former human—whatever it is now—said the name Amy. It wasn’t like back in Amy’s house when he thought her mom had said “wait” but he wasn’t exactly sure. But this was clear, and Jake’s brain couldn’t get caught back up to the moment he was so blown away.

To his left, the flames had traveled up the wall and were burning the bottom of the cabinets. That flicker, coupled with the infected man swiping at him and knocking against the end of the silencer on his Beretta, finally snapped him out of it. He wanted to try to communicate with this thing after it spoke. He wanted to understand why, and how it said Amy’s name, but he couldn’t do any of that if he were a ball of fire, or if he had infected chewing on the back of his neck.

He re-aimed his pistol, twitched his right index finger, and blew a hole in the talking zombie’s forehead. As he holstered his gun and took the AR-15 in his hand, the image of the outside of the house came to him and he sprinted toward the right side of the house, where he remembered the garage doors were. Out of the corner of his eye, on his left, he saw a couple of infected run into the kitchen. Jake had just put one foot in the adjacent dining room when the gas met the flames on the stove and a powerful blast shook the house behind him, strong enough to propel him forward onto the ground. Shattering glass and a burst of heat popped off behind him. He wanted to look back to watch the flames melting the black-eyed strangers, but he was too busy rolling to his side and aiming his gun at the line of infected that were rushing the dining room to attack him.

Jake held his finger down as he stood, a string of bullets began meeting flesh, and blood colored the white walls crimson. He continued to fire, taking down at least ten of them before his thirty-round magazine clicked empty. There was a mass of them still moving into the front door. He darted left and ran down the hallway under the balcony he had been on a minute ago. He ran past a bathroom, then a laundry room, and he tried the next closed door. It opened out into the garage, and as he slammed the door behind him his heart leapt when he saw the shiny, red Ford F-150 parked in the first bay. He removed his bag from his back as he opened the door, and as if a holy light were shining down on it, the cabin lights glowed over the set of keys that sat in the center console. He tossed his bag in the passenger seat, climbed in, and started the truck. The engine firing up was like the sweetest of songs. He pulled the lever down to reverse, but instead of going ahead and hitting the gas, his instincts told him to wait as the scene he watched from the upstairs window––the mass of infected covering the driveway––jumped into his mind.

He didn’t want to floor it and run into too many of them. If he could hold out until they started coming into the garage from the same door he’d just used, maybe enough of them would have moved into the house to give him an easier, less risky route to the street. It was a fairly new truck, and it might be able to handle it, but if it couldn’t, he was out of the frying pan and into the fryer.

Waiting wasn’t an easy thing to do. Everything inside of him, except for that small voice telling him to wait, was screaming at him to punch the gas and roll out. It was like having the worst of itches and not scratching it. Like starving and not eating. But he waited. As he did, he took his AR-15 from around his neck, reached into his bag for his last loaded magazine, and locked it in place. He put both hands on the steering wheel, ten and two, and stared without blinking at the door from the house into the garage. Though it had only been seconds since he started the truck, it felt like hours.

Seconds were long enough for him to think of Jess and Tyler. There was so much chaos surrounding him that it was crazy to be worried about anything other than himself. But he was. Tyler was like his brother. And if he lost Jess, he didn’t know what he would do. She was the only woman he’s ever loved. He remembered the first time he’d kissed her. A forever fourteen years ago. As he continued to stare at the door, waiting for the infected, he could see Jess’s nervous face, her wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans as he leaned in on the bleachers at the football game. It wasn’t the best kiss, but it was the most memorable. It had changed both of their lives forever. From that moment on she was like a magnet. No matter what was going on in his life, she always drew him back in.

The door to the garage flung open and banged against the wall. Reality set back in when a train of infected rushed through, the first flinging itself onto the hood of the truck as Jake switched his foot from the brake to the gas. He stomped on it, and the tires screamed as they spun atop the slick poured concrete below. When they caught traction, the back of the truck bed smashed through the garage door behind him, and, before he knew it he had run over at least four infected that had been moving outside. It wasn’t the horde it had been earlier. The waiting had paid off.

He continued backward, bouncing and rumbling over the bodies. The truck continued out into the street where it struck a couple more when he turned the wheel to the left, slammed the shifter down into drive, and pressed the gas pedal all the way to the floor. The tires spun again and the truck shot forward, running over two more infected that were moving toward the house. With a look to his left he saw flames licking the sky at the back of the house, and a throng of infected running from the busted garage door like ants from a flooding hill.

They were too late.

Jake was already three houses away by the time they reached the street. The streetlights glowed over them as they raced to catch up, but they couldn’t, Jake had managed to escape them again. He made a quick right, then a left. Once he found his way out of the neighborhood, he was going to drive away from the bridge that Tyler and Jess crossed earlier. He didn’t want to take the chance that some of the infected were still waiting there. If they could coordinate an attack at the house and say the name of the girl in the RV with Jess, they were capable of leaving some there for him at the bridge.

He pulled out of the neighborhood. He knew there were multiple bridges across into different parts of downtown Cincinnati. He was going to find the next one over and cross there. Jake’s mind shifted as he drove––he had to see if Jess and Tyler were okay. He reached down to his left pocket where he’d stashed the radio when he was hiding in the hotel parking lot.

But the pocket was empty.

Panic shot through him like a bolt of lightning.

He felt in the other pocket and found nothing. He frantically dug inside his bag, but there was no sign of the radio. His mind replayed the blast in the kitchen that had knocked him to the floor. He hadn’t noticed at the time, but it must have fallen out there. He slammed his fist against the truck’s dashboard. Not once, but three times. He’d been by himself for a while now since he jumped from the top of the RV to draw the infected away from the bridge, but being in that truck with no way to reach out to Jess was the first time he truly felt alone.

37

After a few wrong turns, Jake finally found the road that led to the second bridge over to Cincinnati. Traffic was a little more jammed on that route because it was more residential. He was still recovering from the anguish of losing his radio. More so because Jess and Tyler had no way of knowing if he was okay than it was that he didn’t know if they were. He couldn’t imagine the worry Jess would have after watching him jump right into the middle of the fray. Seemed surreal even to himself. Amazing what you can talk yourself into doing to save the people you loved. And Jake was willing to go much further than that.

He weaved around some cars, but made it onto the bridge. The shoulder was fairly clear, giving him a path to finally cross over into Ohio and be on his way to the university. Though by that time, with all the detours that he had to make, he doubted there would be anything there waiting for them. He still needed to try. His worst nightmare would be that he did make it, but Tyler and Jess weren’t there. He had no idea what he would do then. Backtracking their route would be the most obvious start, but they might have had to detour a dozen times to make it there. They could be on one of a hundred different roads.

Jake shook the stream of negative thoughts from mind. However, there was no running from the negative that happened when he reached the middle of the bridge. All the glowing lights of downtown in front of him, from the Great American Tower to the Scripps Center building, all at once––they all went black. Jake hit the brakes and slowed to a stop. It was as if a black cloud had suddenly swallowed Cincinnati whole. All he could do was stare into the darkness. Other than a few blazing fires, his headlights were the only lights he could see. It was a haunting sight as he idled above the river.

He thought back to his conversation on the phone with Colt. He remembered either he or Colt had said something about how the power could go out at any moment. But in between conversations with Tyler on the interstate, it occurred to him that the power should stay on for quite some time. Jake was no expert on power sources, but even if no one was manning the stations, there should be enough coal loaded to last a few days at worst. And the nuclear plants could run autonomously in a lot of situations.

Amy.

That infected man hissing her name came back to him. The infected evolving quickly enough to set a trap came back to him. And when they’d gathered each other instead of bull-rushing the house when he was waiting for them came back to him, all telling him that this was more than a virus. Now that he was staring at a blacked-out Cincinnati, it seemed to only further prove something much larger was going on.

“Aliens,” Tyler had said. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Jake let the thought wash over him. If, in fact, someone had shut off the power manually––which was what Jake figured to be the case since this entire thing was only about a day old––aliens, no matter how absurd, couldn’t be ruled out. Of course in most everyone’s mind, the thought of an alien invasion most likely brought visions of spaceships and weird-looking creatures. But that didn’t have to be the case. It also could be the other idea Jake had been tossing around: a terrorist attack. None of what happened really added up to that, but there had to be something from those two options. A virus, considering the speed of which the power and technology had been shutting down, actually seemed more unrealistic than aliens and terrorists. All he knew for sure was that there was someone––or some thing––to blame for this. And if that was the case, though hard to imagine, things could still get even worse.

Before he moved ahead toward downtown, he turned on the radio and began shuffling through the stations. Static continued as he scrolled through them, until finally he found a continuous beeping. Then a man’s voice came over the airwaves.

“This is the Emergency Alert System. If you are hearing this message, please either return to, or remain in your home until further notice. Lock all doors and windows, and if you have a room without a window, stay there and listen for an update. There is a serious threat to all that remain outdoors. Please adhere to this message. Your life could depend on it.”

The beep came again, then the same message. It was such a surreal and creepy thing to hear. America truly was a completely different place now. Jake wondered how long the message had been on loop. Though it didn’t offer much information, there really wasn’t much else to be said. He supposed if there were safe zones being reported, they would update the message, so apparently there either wasn’t any, or more likely there was just no way to report it. Things had happened so fast that there had been no time to set up a safe zone and then report it before everything went down. There had only been time to survive.

Jake switched off the radio and moved forward on the shoulder of the bridge. He didn’t like the darkness he was driving toward, and he hated the silence that was accompanying him. He reached over and unzipped the front pocket on his bag where he had put his phone.

“Just because the cell service is useless doesn’t mean you can’t be useful.”

He unlocked the phone and tapped on the music app. He had a decent collection. When he’d been deployed in Afghanistan, there wasn’t a whole lot in the way of entertainment, so music had been something of a daily, if not hourly ritual. Especially when heading into a mission. He glanced up at the dark city as he rolled off the bridge onto land. This was just as much of a war as anything he’d ever experienced before. So he put on the song he always listened to when going into battle and made his way toward the University of Cincinnati, visions of helicopters dancing in his head, Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” in his ears. Since the light had literally just exited the city, he couldn’t think of any song that could be any more fitting.

38

Emily finished removing her makeup, brushed her teeth, and flossed. As she sat in the chair in her new cubbyhole of a bedroom, she began to brush her hair while she stared into the mirror. For the foreseeable future, this was her home. With none of her things, none of her surroundings, and––worst of all––none of her people. And she wouldn’t be seeing any of her people ever again. Because in a matter of only a few days––they had all died.

At first it was just one tear that squeezed out of the corner of her eye. But feeling the tear run down her cheek triggered what she had been holding back for a long time and she began to sob. In her adult life, Emily hadn’t been much of a cryer. She’d never really had reason after her parents died. She had a solid upbringing, good family, never went hungry. Like everyone else, her life had its ups and downs, but never anything that could emotionally prepare her for this. Not that anything could. Humans weren’t supposed to experience what was going on out there. But it was happening, and everything she’d ever loved was gone.

Tears flooded her face. She was red with grief. She reached for a tissue, trying to dam up the waterway, but it was no use. Finally, she moved over to the bed and let it out. Really let it out. She had never cried like that before. At least not since her parents died in the plane crash. But even then, she’d been so numb that she never really had this kind of moment.

The thought of her parents reminded her of Jake. It was the reason they had connected on such a deep level so quickly. She had been performing a physical exam on him when Emily had awkwardly asked where his parents lived. When he’d told her they were both dead, Emily had told her story and it led to more and more communication. He’d told her things that he said he had never told anyone. Not even his high school sweetheart. Said there was something easy about Emily, he felt he could truly be himself. That was the night they’d made love. The night Jake had called a mistake. However, the things Emily felt, and the things she could see in Jake’s eyes that he felt, there was no possibility that what they’d shared was a mistake.

The most painful part of all of it might be that he was the one person alive that she did feel a connection to. But she won’t even be able to connect with him. Even if he did make it to Mount Weather, she would have to keep her feelings to herself. All that was happening in the world was terrible, but the worst of it for Emily was that she’d survived, yet had no one to share it with.

Karen could always come around. She is a really good listener after all.

Emily laughed out loud in between sobs. She pictured her playing chess with the infected woman. Even getting a high five for her win. Then it occurred to her that John Doe could play too. Apparently he and Karen had a lot in common. They both liked the name Amy.

“I like the name Amy,” Emily said to no one.

She dabbed her wet face with tissues and sat up in bed. She was tired of feeling sorry for herself. She laid back down, this time letting what happened in the room with Karen, Elaine, and Jennifer replay in her mind. Both Karen and John Doe had said Amy at the exact same moment. Meaning somehow that whatever happened to them, be it a virus, or whatever it was, somehow connected them. They, at least on that one occasion, shared a consciousness. So what could that mean?

Emily let herself extrapolate that shared consciousness thought to the rest of everyone infected. What if they all were interconnected now? What if, somewhere, one consciousness had access to all of them? What could that mean? How could it be possible, and what did it mean if it was? A virus could never do that. At least not the knowledge of viruses humans currently had. The closest thing Emily could relate to a mass of people having one conscious, at least in earthly terms, was the internet.

Obviously, at least on the surface, the infection had nothing to do with computers. Emily let her mind wander to places it had never gone. Humans didn’t have the capacity to meld their minds like computers. Well, maybe they did, but they hadn’t figured out how to do it yet. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t be done. It would have to be by a more evolved species, but it could be done. In theory.

“Is that what this is?”

She wanted to stay with that line of thought. So what if it was? If a more advanced species could have one consciousness, and they brought it to earth, what were they doing? Was it annihilation? Because it sure as hell looked like it on the surface. Did they need a new place to live? Were they microbial in size and they needed new hosts?

“This is absurd,” she said.

Emily rolled over and shut off the bedside lamp. If the virus that infected everyone truly was a new thing, theoretically, it could connect everyone that had it to a single consciousness. Whatever it was that had moved in on humanity, she wasn’t going to solve the mystery of what was going on that night, especially not with her ridiculous line of thought. And she really needed some sleep. With all the questions swirling in her head, though, it would be hard. She quieted her mind and was able to block all of the questions. All of the questions but one.

“Who the hell is Amy?”

39

“Amy!” Jess rushed from the passenger seat of the RV when she heard the thump behind her. “Amy!”

Jess dropped to the floor over top of her and began to stroke her hair.

“Amy, wake up, sweetheart.”

“Is she okay?” Tyler shouted from the driver’s seat. “Should I stop?”

“Amy, honey, wake up, okay?”

Jess could see that Amy’s chest was rising and falling. She pressed two fingers on Amy’s neck––her pulse was strong.

“No, keep going. I think she’s just passed out.”

All of her functions seemed to be working, though Amy’s face was much whiter than it had been earlier. Jess walked over to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water and picked up a towel from one of the kitchenette’s drawers. She soaked the towel the began to dab it all over Amy’s face.

“Amy, can you hear me?”

Amy’s eyes shot open, and she sat upright on the floor. It happened so fast that it startled Jess and she scooted back toward the front of the RV. Amy was sitting there, staring at her, but Jess could tell she wasn’t really there.

“Amy?”

“What the shit, Jess? What’s wrong with her?” Tyler said.

“Just watch the road, she’ll be fine. She’s just exhausted. Poor thing has been through a lot.” Jess scooted forward, not far from the girl now. “Amy, can you hear me? You’re safe now. You can wake up.”

That’s when her eyes rolled back in her head.

Jess was frozen. She wanted to move, to take her by the shoulders and shake her, but all she could do was stare into those white eyes.

Amy started to tremor. Not a seizure, but a shaking equivalent to someone with Parkinson’s. Jess was getting scared, but still couldn’t move.

“NO!” Amy shouted, then fell to her back on the floor.

The shout had been so loud that Jess nearly jumped out of her skin. Tyler hit the brakes and the RV skidded to a stop. Jess moved forward and once again checked her vitals. Still breathing, heart still beating. She thanked God that Amy’s eyes were closed. Jess didn’t want to see that again.

“Tyler, can you help me get Amy back to the bed?”

Tyler put the RV in park.

Static crackled at Jess’s hip. “Everything okay up there?”

It was Bryan. The three of them were following behind the RV. He had tuned his hand radio to the same frequency as Jess and Tyler’s. She pressed the talk button.

“We’re fine, just putting Amy in bed. We’ll only be minute.”

“Copy.”

Jess grabbed Amy by the shoulders. “You get her legs.”

Tyler did as she asked and they carried her back to the bed.

“Jess, what the hell was that? That wasn’t exhaustion.”

“I don’t know, Ty. Maybe it was exhaustion and she was just having a lucid dream.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Jess covered Amy with a blanket, then shuffled Tyler out the door and shut it behind them. “Keep telling myself that? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tyler’s face was dead serious. “We have to quit beating around the bush here. Something is going on with Amy. It’s no coincidence that she’s not infected, even though she hasn’t had any Beritrix. Come on, Jess. Wake up!”

“All right, calm down. Let’s go back up front and get moving. We can talk there. You want me to drive?”

Tyler shook his head. He couldn’t wait till they were siting. “I’m telling you, there is some sort of connection we’re missing here.”

Jess sat in the passenger seat, Tyler put the RV in drive and rolled forward. They weren’t far from the university now.

“Connection to what? I don’t get what you’re saying.”

“She’s the only person that hasn’t been infected after a long period of exposure, and no Beritrix. That has to mean something!”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. You know that.” Jess tried to keep her voice calm, hoping it would bring Tyler’s level down a notch. “We have too small of a sampling. There could be many more like her, we just don’t know it yet.”

“Really? Really, Jess?”

Her calm voice hadn’t calmed him down at all.

“Because look around. We’ve seen about seven people alive in over a hundred miles, and all of them had one thing in common. Beritrix. You’re telling me that’s a coincidence?”

“No, Tyler, I’m telling you that we don’t have enough information to go on. There could be thousands like her.”

“Okay.”

It was a dismissive okay. Jess could tell that his mind had already leapt to places she wasn’t going to be able to talk him back from. She let him have a moment to at least cool down before she said anything else. The image of Amy’s eyes rolling back in her head kept replaying in Jess’s mind. She had told Tyler it was exhaustion, but did she actually believe that? The tremors, the eyes, the passing out, the screaming of the word no at the top of her lungs. Was it just a dream, or had she seen something?

“Good God, you’re starting to rub off on me.”

Tyler looked over.

Jess pointed to the right. “Turn here, we’re almost there.”

“You’re thinking about it aren’t you. There has to be a connection somehow, between Amy, and these things. Right?”

“I don’t know. She isn’t infected. So, there’s no way Amy could be connected to them, right?”

“Connected to who?”

Both Jess and Tyler jumped and Tyler almost swerved off the road. Amy had come up from behind them.

Jess was breathing heavy. “You scared us, Amy. Are you all right?”

“I don’t think so. I think they’re in my head.”

40

It took Jake by surprise how different everything was when there was zero power. Sure, when the sun goes down, it’s dark. But he never realized how much the light of houses in suburban areas, and buildings and street lights in commercial areas made a difference in being able to signal where you were going. Nothing looked the same. Driving straight through powerless traffic lights felt odd as well. Despite all of this, Jake was pulling up to the University of Cincinnati. Only one wrong turn along the way that was fairly easily corrected.

Now the real hunt would begin. Though he’d been to the stadium here at UC, he had never actually been on campus, and certainly nowhere near the science department. He assumed like any other university, there would be signs posted, but the thought of just strolling out in the open on a campus full of thousands, seemed entirely counterproductive. He’d seen the way the infected rallied outside the house he’d blown up an hour ago. If they were still hanging around here, it was going to be virtually impossible to get to the professor.

The first thing he noticed when he momentarily pulled into one of the student parking lots along the outskirts of campus to get his bearings was the fact that there was no sign of a helicopter. Not that he expected it. He figured if they had come, they were probably long gone at that point. Which made him question the decision to go on this little danger-filled field trip at all. If Emily wasn’t getting her information from the president himself, Jake wouldn’t even consider going near this place. However, when the commander-in-chief finds a person interesting enough to send a helicopter for in the middle of an apparent apocalypse, that was good enough for Jake. Even if the professor was already long gone.

Jake knew Nippert Stadium was pretty much in the middle of campus, so he pulled out of the parking lot and drove to where he knew it would be. The stadium was also the destination of the directions he had left with Jess. So if they were lucky enough to make their way there after their forced stop, this would be where they would be.

After a couple of turns, Jake was in the main stadium parking lot. So far it was an absolute ghost town. He made a lap around the entire lot, then turned down the main drag toward the stadium’s entrance. There were quite a few cars in the lot, but nothing like it would have been on a game day. He supposed the stadium’s lot was used by students during the week. Of course it was just an assumption as Jake had never been to college.

Jake’s attention shifted when he noticed a large vehicle parked out of place toward the front. His headlights and a strong moon were the only light to guide him. He felt both relief, and exhilaration when he could tell it was the RV they had taken from his neighborhood. Jess would know not to leave the RV until Jake got there. But as he pulled up, there were no lights on. Which would be smart, seeing as how light attracted the infected. However, it also seemed like the RV was empty. Maybe it was just his mind jumping to a negative conclusion, but the three trucks parked in much the same way behind the RV didn’t give him confidence anyone was still around.

Jake pulled close, and his headlights were positioned on the cab of the first truck behind the RV. No one was inside. There would only be two reasons Jess would leave the RV. One: she thought Jake was dead and wasn’t coming. Two: She had been forced to leave.

The reason didn’t matter to Jake. The outcome for him was the same. He would have to find her first, then worry about the professor. He didn’t know who had forced Tyler and Jess to stop earlier, and both of them could be in danger––either from the people that stopped them, or from the infected that were most certainly lurking somewhere on campus.

Jake put the truck in park and stepped out. He left it running in case he needed a quick exit. The summer night was muggy and damp, but Jake was focused on the RV and, more importantly, its unlocked door. Jess was smart, she would never have left the door unlocked with all of their things in it unless she hadn’t had a choice. Jake jumped in the RV, gave a quick look to make sure it was empty, then rushed back to his truck. He threw the AR-15 over his shoulder and strapped on his bag. He then quietly shut the door to his truck, and made his way toward the entrance of the stadium. It was the logical place to start, given where the RV was parked. If forced to run, either from the infected, or from the trucks that may have given chase and followed them there––directly into a place full of bathrooms, concession stands, and a myriad of other hiding places would be an ideal place to go. Especially because it had multiple exits to escape from.

On any other night, there would have been too much ambient noise to hear much of anything. But in the new world devoid of electricity, it only took a couple steps inside the gates for Jake to make out the unmistakable sound of a group of infected hissing and groaning. Jake fought the panic that rose in his conscience. He fought the urge to just rush in, because action without thought yielded unwanted results in terrible situations. Then two men emerged from the shadow of the stadium, out into the moonlight. Jake froze.

Were they infected?

Were they human?

The still of the night was broken, and Jake’s questions were answered when one of them made a sound Jake had never heard before. It was somewhere between the howl of a wolf and the scream of an eagle. Every hair on his body stood on end. Then a crowd of infected filled in behind the two men. Shooting would do no good. There was only one way out of there.

Run.

41

Jake turned from the stadium and broke into a full sprint. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew he wasn’t going to hang around the mob of infected. He felt light on his feet. Though he had a full go bag on his back, an axe hanging from it, a pistol on his hip, and an assault rifle in his hands, it was nothing compared to the gear he was used to carrying in the Army. He and his fellow Deltas would train with free-weights in their bags, just in case of situations like this one.

The stadium shadowed the moon, so every corner of the part of campus he was in was dark. And each time he came to one of those dark corner, the thought of infected running at him kept him sharp. As he focused in on a building that was partially lit by the moon off in the distance, the near-paralyzing thought that if Jess and Tyler were actually in that stadium, there was no way they could have survived. It was overrun with infected. Almost like they had been holding some sort of meeting and Jake had interrupted. Which wouldn’t even be a surprise at this point. Not after what he had seen the way they had come together back at that house.

There was a large fountain in front of him that he almost ran right into. He rushed around the right side of it, and as he did, he fought against the growing anxiety inside him. The worry that something happened to two of the five people left on the planet that he cared about began to filter through his nervous system like a fast-moving cancer. He also needed somewhere to go in a hurry. He couldn’t just keep running. He had to find a place to—

A blinking light came from the bottom of the building in front of him. At least that’s what he thought it was. Was he seeing things? Was he like a man stranded in the desert? Was he seeing some sort of mirage?

Then the light blinked again.

It must be Jess.

But how could she see him?

It didn’t matter, but when he surged forward, helped along by a surging boost of adrenaline, his foot caught on something that was sitting at the break between the concrete and the grass, and he sailed forward, a full-on sliding dive onto his stomach. When he popped up to his feet, he felt something tighten around his ankles, then he was right back on his ass. But that wasn’t the worst of it, because he was also being pulled—dragged—back in the direction of the oncoming horde. Their moans and groans grew louder as he was pulled. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw the doors of the building open and a few people walk out. He couldn’t tell if it was Jess, but right then it didn’t matter.

Jake was almost back to the concrete where he’d tripped, and he had to stop the momentum of the pull fast or he was a dead man. He rolled to his stomach, and the grass turned into concrete below him. As he scrambled to free his axe from its hook, gunfire erupted from the direction of the building. Whoever had come out was trying to help him. Jake’s hand found the axe, but when he pulled it free, the handle caught in a break in the concrete and was yanked from his hand. It bounced to his right, and with a desperate lunge his fingertips caught the handle and he squeezed with all he had.

He rolled to his back, being dragged even faster, and could see the front line of the infected was just on the other side of the fountain. Not twenty feet from him.

“JAKE!” he heard a woman scream behind him.

Jess.

Jake raised up, grabbed the taut rope below his feet with his left hand, and chopped down on it with the axe in his right.

“Jake, RUN!” Jess shouted.

“Jake, you gotta get out of there!” This time it was Tyler. His voice echoed over the open area of campus Jake was fighting for his life in.

The axe cut right through the rope, and finally Jake was no longer being dragged. He came to a full stop, sitting upright. He stopped, but the oncoming wave of death did not. The infected had rounded the fountain on both sides, now just a few feet from him.

Once the rope was cut it wasn’t as tight around his ankles. He was able to separate his feet just enough to chop down through the rope and free his legs. If his axe had been even the slightest bit more dull, he would be dead. Instead, he sprung to his feet like his life depended on it, because it did. But it wasn’t fast enough, because after his first three strides back to the building, he felt something grab hold of the bag on his back. They had caught up.

Whoever had the guns at the entrance to the building couldn’t help him now. Now that he was standing, shooting him would be just as likely as shooting any of the infected. He felt the hand on his bag began to pull, and it was slowing him down. Then he felt another hand grab and pull at the strap on the left side of his bag. What was worse were the sounds coming from these things as they breathed down his neck. It was almost like a growl as they hunted their prey. Jake wasn’t a man that scared easily, but there, running from certain death, he was terrified. The thought of being eaten alive was bad enough, but actually becoming one of whatever the hell those things were, that was what really did the trick.

Instinct overcame thought, and Jake swatted behind him with his axe as he maintained as much forward momentum as he could. He was half a football field away from safety. At full speed he could get there in about five seconds. Fighting for his life, it would take a little longer. The first blind swing he took hit nothing. He was slowed even more. He had to break free or not only was he dead, but so were the others that waited at the door. They would never be able to shut the door in time to hold the infected off. And even if they did manage it, this bunch of blood suckers would just smash right through it.

He swung again. Nothing.

He swung again and finally made contact, and the tension pulling him back eased a bit. Jake switched the axe to his left hand and swung one more time, and as soon as he felt something hit, there was no longer anything holding onto his bag.

“Get inside!” he screamed while closing in on the building. “Get ready to shoot!”

Jake kicked it into another gear, giving it his best Flash Gordon impression. It felt as though his feet weren’t even hitting the ground. As he approached the entrance he could finally see Jess, Tyler, and four other men with guns out front. He didn’t have time to look back.

He was just going to have to go for it.

42

Jake took two more massive strides then launched himself forward. Jess and Tyler had moved inside, and two of the men were waiting to slam the doors shut once he made it through. Jake went flying headfirst through the open door, and as soon as he hit and started to slide on his stomach, he heard the doors slam behind him, and the horde slam into the doors. Before he could come to a stop, he’d already slid the axe into its holster and taken the AR-15 in his hands. He was ready to fire if they broke through.

The doors bent inward, but for the moment, they held.

“We gotta go! Now!” a large bald man wearing night vision goggles shouted.

Tyler came over and helped Jake to his feet. “Christ you’re so dramatic.”

Jake smiled and hugged him. Then he shoved his friend out of the way to get his hands on Jess. She felt like a security blanket. For a second all was right with the broken world, and he squeezed hard around her.

That second was up when the next push from outside began to crack the doors.

“Lets go!” the man shouted again. Jake could just make him out at the back of the room standing next to a door.

“Come on, we’ll be safe down here!” Jess said as she yanked Jake’s hand.

He didn’t have to be told twice. The reckoning was just beyond those doors, and Jake wanted no part of it. They ran across the lobby of the building, through the open door, and down the stairs. Jake stopped halfway down. He was about to ask how they thought this would be safe, to trap themselves down in the basement, but when he looked back up he saw that it was no ordinary door. It had been modified at some point and the lock on the frame made it almost seal like a hatch. Besides, it wasn’t like they had an alternative at that point.

The men pulled a long steel bolt across the door and latched it on the other side. That was when the lights being on down the stairs beneath Jake registered, and so too did the hum of a generator. Jess was just below him, a smile on her face. She waved him down. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he noticed a door. When it opened, it sounded pressurized. The men who had helped save him up top stepped in with them. The door shut, one of them pressed a button, and the air sucked out of the top of the room at the same time it was filled with more air from the bottom.

“You’re sure he’s been on Beritrix too?”

Jess took Jake’s arm. “I told you he has, but have a look for yourself.” She turned his arm over and showed him Jake’s injection points––something he’d been hiding his entire life so no one mistook him for a junkie.

The man nodded to the other and the second door of the small room opened. The large bald man stepped forward and extended his hand.

“Bryan Hall.”

Jake shook his oversized hand. “Thanks for having my back up there.”

Bryan nodded toward Jess. “Thanks goes to her. She showed us how to get here, even though we trapped her on the interstate.”

Jake understood then that these were the people who stopped his friends on the exit ramp.

Bryan said. “Heard a lot about you. Hell of a thing you did going out there alone. I’m ready to fight these things with you when we’re ready.”

Jake just nodded. He was a little overwhelmed with all that was going on. He first wanted to get his bearings on exactly where, and what it was that he had just entered into. He walked out of the chamber and more than a dozen other people were staring back at him. He realized that someone had absolutely been preparing for what happened that day. And it looked like they’d been preparing for a very long time. A man in a lab coat walked over to him and extended his hand.

“Professor Reed. Call me Charlie. Last time I spoke with Emily she mentioned you’d be coming. Glad to see you made it safely.” The man seemed warm. His salt and pepper beard combined with his black-rimmed glasses screamed professor. Jake imagined there would be a cardigan beneath the lab coat.

“Good to be here. Thanks for letting us in.” Jake shook his hand.

“Your skills really round out our little group here. We have everything from a cook to a nurse. The only thing missing was a military man. Can’t say I had one in my inner circle before the fallout.”

Jake felt as if he were in a movie. And it wasn’t the first time that day he’d felt that way. But to hear they had a cook, a nurse, and to hear the word fallout? It just seemed far too surreal. “I’m assuming you’ve been preparing for this day?”

The group laughed.

“You have no idea,” Reed said.

A man walked up, a wide smile across his ebony face, his hand reaching for Jake. “Randy. Nice to meet a real-life Delta. I’m an American History teacher at a local high school. A bit of a military nut.”

“Nice to meet you too, Randy,” Jake said. Then, he turned back to the professor. “Not that it isn’t great to meet you, all of you, but there are quite a few infected just above us, you know, trying to eat us? But you don’t seem concerned. Should I be worried?”

The professor’s face was serious. “We all should be worried, Jake. Just not about them getting down here. We’ve been preparing for this for some time now. This is a university-funded project, if you can believe it. It took me years to get them behind the idea.”

“University-funded project? For the apocalypse?” Tyler said. “That’s pretty sweet.”

The professor nodded. “More of a project about being prepared. The way I finally sold it to the board was that we would perfect the standard in fallout shelters for anyone out there who is a ‘prepper’, so they can follow our mold. I’ll show you around, but needless to say, we have everything we need to survive for some time down here.”

Jake wanted to say something about our tax dollars and tuition money hard at work, but what could he say? It had literally just saved his and his friend’s lives. “Fantastic. I can’t wait for the tour, but do you have a radio? I need to get in contact with Mount Weather. When was the last time you spoke with Emily?”

“Of course, right this way. We have been working on making contact with them for a little while.” Jake, Tyler, Jess, and Amy followed behind the professor. “I’d say the last time I got a message to her was probably around the last time you spoke with her. That was when we lost cellular capabilities. What do you know about what is going on, Jake?”

As the professor walked them around the basement, Jake noticed it was set up like a school, but it seemed the classrooms had been converted to storage and bedrooms. The large room he walked into from the stairs when he first came down was a common area with couches and other various seating, with what looked like activities or games set up in the back.

“I’m sorry,” Jake said. “But how long have you been preparing this area?”

The professor showed them into a space that was clearly designated as the communication room. Stations were set up with radios, and other computer devices. “Two years. That was when we got permission to move forward. The university stopped using this area down here over five years ago. I’ve been trying since then to get all of this approved. We are incredibly lucky to have it. I don’t have to tell you that most down here would be dead without it. Including the members of the board that we promised beds in order to get this project approved in the first place.”

Now that made some sense to Jake. Some members of the board hedged their bets in case this wacko professor was right about the end possibly coming. Two days ago, Jake would have laughed if he’d heard about this project. Now, he hoped there were a lot more ‘crazy people’ across the world that had done some of the same things.

43

“So, professor, how did you get everyone here in time to survive without getting infected?” Jake said.

The professor looked solemn. “Call me Charlie. And a lot didn’t make it. Most, actually. I always thought we would have more warning. We were set up to hold a hundred. Only fifteen made it.”

“I’m sorry,” Jess said.

“Me too. The only reason as many of them made it here as they did was because of the radio transmission I intercepted two days ago. I felt it meant something, so I told everyone to be ready. But I had no idea it would lead to this.”

“Radio transmission?” Jake asked. “Is that the one Emily mentioned? Said you claimed to have heard an alien conversation or something?”

Jake didn’t realize it at first, but he was smiling when he said it. Even after the day he’d had, the words alien conversation still sounded ridiculous.

“I know it seems outrageous, Jake. But is it really . . . after all you’ve seen out there?”

Jake’s mind flashed to the trap the infected had set in front of the bridge, to the conversation about Tyler’s theories they’d had in the RV, to the house where the infected had coordinated an attack, and to just moments ago when they’d caught him in the rope like he was an animal running from hunters. Did it really sound outrageous after all of that?

“Alien conversation?” Tyler stepped forward. Then he looked at Jake. “I told you, man. You too, Jess. I knew there was more to this!”

Then Jake thought about the moment in the kitchen of that house. When the infected man was reaching through the window then, plain as day, he said Amy’s name.

“No,” Jake said. “It doesn’t sound outrageous at all. But do you really think that’s what these things are? Aliens?”

“I don’t know, but I know what I heard on the transmission is a conversation between two intelligent beings. I don’t have any idea what was said, but if you listened to it, you would see what I’m saying. The cadence, the back and forth—”

“Couldn’t it just be a college prank?” Jake interrupted. “I mean, surely students knew about this little project of yours down here. Sounds like something I might have done. Play a prank on the paranoid professor? You don’t think that could be it?”

“Maybe, Jake. Maybe before the pandemic today that crossed my mind. But not after what happened to those people that chased you into this building. After more than eighty of the people who’d been chosen for this project turned into whatever that is up there, I knew the transmission wasn’t a fake. And when you hear it, you’ll know it too.”

“Well what are we waiting for?” Tyler said. “I believe you, professor—Charlie––and I want to hear it.”

Charlie looked at Jake. “Matthew is in the back still working on finding Mount Weather’s frequency. There is nothing else for us to do while we wait for him to connect with them, so we might as well hear the transmission now.”

With the look of getting a new puppy draped over Tyler’s face, how could Jake say no? He knew it was silly. And he knew it wasn’t going to mean anything to him, but if all of them were going to fight what was going on above them, Jake knew they were going to need to sift through every piece of information they could find. No matter how wild it seemed.

“Let’s hear it,” Jake said. “I wouldn’t want Tyler to have an aneurysm waiting for his dreams to come true.”

Charlie nodded, then walked over to a computer. He hit some buttons, and as he did, Jake, Tyler, Jess, and Amy gathered around them.

“There will be some fuzz at first, then you’ll hear what I’m talking about. Don’t expect to learn anything, except that maybe something bigger is going on out there.”

Jake tried to remain neutral as Charlie hit play, but he couldn’t deny the feeling that this was completely nuts.

Charlie pointed at the screen. “This is a sound-level meter that was recording this particular frequency from a satellite. You’ll see the measurements jump when the conversations starts.”

At first there was some fuzz, kind of like when you are tuning an old radio, or when you hear the break between speaking into a handheld walkie-talkie. The meter jumped once at a sound, then just like Charlie said, two distinct sounds were going opposite each other. You could definitely hear the difference in each ‘voice’. It didn’t sound like any language from planet Earth, more like computerized gibberish, but with sounds instead of words. It could have been a lot of different things, but Jake could see where Charlie, especially since he was looking for something like this, could say it was a conversation. But beyond that, it didn’t mean a thing to Jake. And jumping to the conclusion that it was aliens talking? That was borderline laughable in his mind.

“They are talking to each other. This is amazing!” Tyler on the other hand bought in hook, line, and sinker. But this had always been Tyler’s dream––ever since he watched E.T. The mind hears what it wants to hear when there is room for shades of gray.

Jess interrupted Tyler’s fantasy. “Amy . . . Amy are you okay?”

Jake turned in time to watch Amy’s eyes roll back into her head as she stood behind them listening.

“Amy!” Jess got behind her to make sure she didn’t fall.

“What’s wrong with her?” Jake said.

“This happened in the RV. Her eyes did the same thing. Then she passed out.”

The professor kneeled down in front of her, looking into her all-white eyes. He glanced up at Jess. “When you first got here, you said she wasn’t infected, and you also said she wasn’t on Beritrix, right?”

“Right, you almost didn’t let us in.”

“That’s because you mentioned she had been with her infected parents all day. Then she was out in the open with you all night. Both are sure-fire ways to become infected, so obviously I was a bit leary. But you’ve seen her do this? Where her eyes rolled back into her head?”

“Like I said, she did it back in the RV.”

Amy started to tremor.

Jake cut in, saying, “One of them said her name.”

Everyone turned their head to look at Jake.

“What?” Tyler said.

“Yeah, in the house earlier. One of the infected looked me dead in the eye and said Amy.”

Charlie stood from his crouch, his mouth was agape. “You heard an infected speak?”

“Yes. For the second time today. But this time, the thing said Amy. Plain as day.”

“What? That has to be connected!” Tyler was excited.

The professor clarified, “So she has never had Beritrix, isn’t infected, and one of those things said her name?”

Before Jake could answer, Amy stopped shaking and her eyes returned to normal. But her facial expression changed––she was absolutely terrified. She turned and buried her face in Jess’s shirt and began to sob.

“It’s okay, Amy.” Jess rubbed her back. “You’re okay, sweetheart. You just went somewhere for a second. But everything’s fine.”

“What was it? What did you see?” Charlie pulled at Amy’s shoulder, trying to turn her around.

Jake swatted his arm away, then shoved him a couple of feet back. “What’s wrong with you? You can’t put your hands on her.”

“What did she see? It was something! Look at her!”

Charlie was adamant. He didn’t even acknowledge Jake’s shove.

“You need to give us some space. Right now!” Jake demanded.

“No, I need to know what just happened to her.” He looked past Jake to Amy. “Amy, what was it. Did you hear something?”

Jake stepped toward Charlie. He was going to get Amy her space one way or another. Just as he began pushing him back, Amy spoke up, but none of them could make out what she said.

Jake stopped and turned toward her.

Jess let go and Amy pulled away, drying her eyes.

“What was that, honey?” Jess said. “You don’t have to—”

Amy cleared her throat.

“I said . . . I understood them. I understood everything they were saying.”

44

Jake knew everyone in the room felt the same spine-tingling sensation that he did. The same feeling he got earlier in the night when the infected man in the window said Amy’s name. They were all stunned into silence at Amy’s words. She understood them?

“I knew it! I knew it was a conversation!” Charlie shouted.

Jake kept him from running at Amy, and held him back with a hand to his chest.

“Calm down,” Jake said. “Everyone just relax. It’s been a long day. Jess, maybe we should take Amy somewhere to lie down. She’s clearly just exhausted.”

The words Jake said to everyone came out as if he were on autopilot. He wanted nothing more than to hear what Amy claimed to have heard, but he never expected to hear himself trying to defuse the situation. The weight of the moment was throwing him off his game.

“No,” Amy said. “I’m okay. But we’re not.”

Charlie shoved Jake’s hand aside as Jake was trying to process, then rushed forward, crouching to Amy’s level and getting right in her face. “What was it? What did you hear?” He was frantic.

Jake pulled him up by the collar of his white coat. “Stay out of her face.”

“This isn’t a game!” Charlie yanked his coat free. “This is history for God’s sake. I need to know what she heard!”

Jake saw a chair behind Professor Reed, grabbed him by the lapel, and sat him down in it. “You will give Amy her space. You hear me?”

“Stop fighting each other!” Amy shouted.

Everyone turned toward her.

“It’s what they want!”

They.

The room was completely still. Everyone, including the three other men working the radios, all stopped what they were doing and tuned in on Amy. Jake felt paralyzed when he heard the word they. He hoped she meant something other than what his worst fears were telling him. Something other than what the professor and Tyler were telling everyone this was. And something other than what his instincts had been telling him after watching the infected evolve as quickly as they had. But he knew. Deep down Jake knew what she meant, and that was why he and everyone else in the room couldn’t summon words as they stood staring at Amy. Waiting for her to speak.

Amy looked at Charlie. “You were right. That was a conversation.”

Amy looked over to Jake. Her blue eyes were swimming in tears. “This wasn’t a disease or an infection that did this to my parents, and all of those other people.”

Jake finally managed words. “Then what was it?”

“An infiltration.”

The words stunned Jake, and apparently everyone else as well. There wasn’t a sound in the small room.

Jess walked around so she could face Amy. “Infiltration? You mean another country has done this? Like an act of war?”

Amy shook her head. “It’s a war, all right, but not another country. They are from somewhere else.”

Just as Charlie began to speak, the radio at the back of the room squawked. Then they heard a man’s voice. “This is the United States Army. We are looking for survivors on this frequency. We heard a transmission from here just a moment ago. If anyone can hear us, please respond.”

The man at the radio turned toward the professor for guidance. The transmission was horrible timing, because the only thing any of them in that room wanted to hear was what Amy had to say. But there was no way they could miss this communication with the Army. They had no choice but to respond.

“Professor?” the man at the radio prompted.

The radio sounded again. “I repeat, this is the United States Army. We are looking for survivors on this frequency. We heard a transmission from here just a moment ago. If anyone can hear us, please respond.”

It seemed to Jake that Charlie was so caught up in understanding what Amy heard that he was willing to lose the opportunity with the Army. Jake knew better.

“Amy.” Jake began moving toward the back wall. “You think you can remember what you heard until I finish with the radio?”

She nodded. “I’ll never forget. Not for as long as I live.”

Jake couldn’t put his finger on why, maybe it was just the way was she was speaking, but Amy seemed more mature than when he’d first met her. Probably because she was just a frightened little girl on the street outside his home. It’s not like he actually knew her. Maybe she had always been this mature. Or maybe the end of the world has that effect on thirteen-year-old girls.

Jake walked over to the radio.

“Just press this button to talk, then release for a response,” the man said.

Jake nodded, picked up the microphone and its stand, and pressed the button. “This is Jake Maddox, Special Forces 1st group. We read you loud and clear, United States Army.”

Though things were about as bad as they could be, the ability to communicate with someone, somewhere else in the country, felt like hope. Jake waited for a reply. Everyone in the room now turned their attention to him. But there was no response.

Jake repeated his statement. “This is Jake Maddox, Delta Forces 1st group, we read you loud and clear, United States Army.”

They all waited for a few seconds, but there wasn’t even the sound of static.

Jess stepped forward, concerned. “Are we too late? Would they move on to a different frequency that fast?”

Jake’s feeling of hope was quickly replaced with worry. He didn’t think they would move on that quickly, especially since the man said they’d heard a transmission from their frequency just a minute ago, but this much lag in response was not a good sign. And the longer they all stood there in silence, the deeper the worry burrowed.

Now Charlie stepped forward. “They should have already responded. Tim,” he said to the man at the radio, “is there a problem with the radio?”

Tim checked the wires, checked the power, then smiled as he started to check the microphone.

“What?” Jake said. “What the hell are you smiling about?”

“The button. You forgot to release the button.”

Jake looked down at his hand and released the button immediately. If he hadn’t cared so much about hearing a response, he probably would have been embarrassed.

“Nice one, G.I. Joe. Apparently Radio 101 isn’t a course in Delta Forces.”

The radio barked. “Oh good, you finally released the button.”

Now Jake was embarrassed.

“Really good to hear from you, soldier. This is Corporal Jim Banner. Where are you transmitting from and what is your situation?”

Jake breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good to hear from you, Corporal. We are at the University of Cincinnati. There’s about twenty of us in a basement full of supplies. Where are you transmitting from?”

This time Jake was sure to release the button.

“Best news I heard all day, Jake. You’re my first contact outside of military bases. Glad to find some of us still among the living. Especially a fellow soldier. We are in Mount Weather, trying to see what’s left of this country.”

Mount Weather.

Jess’s face lit up. Tyler stepped forward and pumped his fist. Professor Reed was still lost in his own thoughts.

“Jim, that is damn good news. A woman by the name of Dr. Emily Fraser came in with the president earlier today. I need to speak with her immediately.”

“I can’t confirm she’s here right this second, but if she is I’ll find her.”

“Wake her up if you have to. I need to talk to her now.”

“I’ll be back here as soon as possible.”

“We’ll be here.”

Jake sat the microphone down and turned his attention back to his friends. Back to Amy. And back to the new reality that was stranger than fiction. The break in communication with Mount Weather was perfect. By the time they found Emily and got her to the radio, Jake would know what Amy heard.

He knew what he was about to hear would change his world forever. But he figured that had already happened, so he was ready to bring it on.

45

“Put the camera down, professor,” Jess said.

“This is literally history in the making. We have to capture it!”

Jake moved from the radio toward Charlie. The professor took a defensive step back.

“It’s okay. He can record it,” Amy said as she dried her eyes and repositioned her ponytail.

“You’re sure?” Jess said. “He doesn’t have to.”

Amy nodded.

The professor refocused the camera. “It’s June 30th, 2019. Amy here has heard the transmission of the conversation I have recorded between two unknown beings. And she understood them. She is going to tell us what she heard.”

Jake watched the professor nod to Amy. All of it felt so surreal. Before Amy began to speak, Jake had a terrifying thought. It wasn’t about what the aliens said in the transmission, though. Rather, his thought was about why Amy could understand it, and what exactly that meant.

One life-altering thing at a time. He focused, as did the others, on Amy.

“The first thing that was said sounded like someone was giving an update. They don’t speak like we do, in and sort of order, so I’ll summarize. They said, ‘infiltration complete, armed defenses crippled, very few immune.’ Then the other voice said, ‘begin phase two.’ The response to that was, ‘already learning.’ The other said, ‘are they as weak as they seem.’ The response was, ‘they are fragile, but resilient.’ The other said, ‘will this be enough.’ The response was, ‘too early to tell.’ Then the last thing that was said was, ‘will hold on reinforcements. Find element zero. There has been no recent report. Element zero is our only weakness. Find and eliminate element zero.’

They all were stunned.

“That’s it. That’s all they said,” Amy finished, then waited for a response.

Jess gave Jake a look, then glanced at Amy, then back to him. Though Jess said nothing, the meaning behind her look was unmistakable. He knew she was thinking the same thing he was, that because Amy could understand the transmission, it was very possible she was Element Zero.

“Thank you, Amy,” Jess said. “I understand how that would be hard to forget.”

“I know we were already in trouble,” Amy said. “But doesn’t this make it worse?”

Jake felt like this was all too much for a young teenager. Mostly because it was too much for him, a battle-hardened soldier. “Professor, I need some water. Amy, you could probably use some too, right?”

“I think we all could,” Jess agreed.

“Professor?” Jake prompted.

“What? Oh, yes. Just out in the common area. Bill here can show you. I’m going to upload this video to the computer to make sure we don’t lose it.”

A man stood up from in front of a computer, ready to take them to get water. Jake walked out with them, and as they exited the long hallway into the common area, he stopped.

Jess turned around. For the first time Jake noticed how tired she looked. “What is it?”

The rest of the group turned to Jake when they heard Jess. He waved them on. “Go on ahead. I just need a minute with Jess.”

The group seemed to think nothing of it, and Amy followed beside Tyler to get some water.

“You don’t think it’s really possible, do you? That she’s this ‘Element Zero’?” Jess said.

“I don’t know. She was surrounded by the infected when we first saw her out on my street. Looking back, they had opportunities to get her. Didn’t they? Before I got there?”

“I don’t know, Jake. I don’t know anything anymore. I mean, aliens?”

“Amy didn’t actually say it was aliens.”

“You’re right. She didn’t. She just rattled off a translation of a takeover in some weird language that no one has ever heard of. Where it was asked if we humans are as weak as we seem.”

Jake nodded. He knew she was right.

“What are we going to do?”

Jake took her hand. “All that we can do. Which is work off of what we know. It doesn’t matter if this is a zombie apocalypse, or an alien invasion, or both. We’ll figure it out. It’s what we do. And if Amy is somehow a part of them, or a part of their plan, then we have our first advantage. We know where she is and they don’t. Maybe we can learn more about them and figure out a way to use it against them. They did say it was their only weakness.”

Jess leaned in and wrapped her arms around Jake. He gave her a squeeze, then he immediately pushed her away.

“What is it?” Jess said. “What’s wrong?”

Jake was already backpedaling. “If Amy is Element Zero, and Element Zero is their only weakness, we have to make sure there is no way they can find out where she is!”

Jake turned away from Jess and began sprinting back down the hall. If Emily came back on the radio and he wasn’t there, the professor could say the wrong thing. Since they had no idea what capabilities these beings had, they couldn’t chance it that they could be listening in somehow–monitoring the airwaves. There was no such thing as being too careful. Not with what was at stake: the very fate of humanity itself.

Jake threw open the door and his exact fear materialized in front of him. Charlie was at the back of the room, the microphone in his hand.

“And we have someone here that was able to translate it, she could understand—”

“Stop!” Jake shouted.

Charlie jumped and nearly dropped the mike. His finger slipped off the button.

“Professor? Are you there? Is everything all right?”

Jake heard Emily’s voice through the speaker.

“What did you say?” Jake stalked toward professor Reed.

“I––I was just relaying that I was right, that it was a conversation. That I wasn’t crazy.”

Jake snatched the microphone from his hands. “We can’t talk openly about this. What if they’re listening?”

Charlie backed away. “They can’t . . . They can’t hear this radio, can they?”

“I don’t know, but it’s not worth finding out, is it?”

Jake pressed the button. “Emily? It’s Jake. No more talking about this over the airwaves. Understand?”

A squawk. “Jake! You’re all right! Thank God you made it! When they came and told me you were on the radio, I ran as fast as I could!”

“Emily, no more discussion about what Professor Reed is saying, okay?”

“But how can we fight this without knowing what was said?”

“You can hear it in person. Get the helicopter here, and I’ll bring Amy to you.”

“Jake, did you just say Amy?”

“Yeah.” Jake stopped talking and let go of the button.

“Jake?”

If the infected man had said the name Amy back in that house, they were already looking for Amy. Which confirmed that Amy was the one they called Element Zero. Which means if these things could listen in on this radio communication, Jake had just made an even bigger mistake than the professor did.

“Jake, the infected woman we captured said the name Amy too. Jake, what is going on?”

As soon as the radio fuzzed, Jake pressed his button. “No more talking! No more names, no more information. We are here waiting for the helicopter. Let me know when it leaves, and I will see you soon. We can discuss everything then. But no more talking on here!”

“Okay but we—what?”

The transmission stopped. When Emily said ‘what,’ it sounded as if she had turned away from the mike to talk to someone else. Jake pressed the button. “Emily? Are you there?”

After he released the button, there was a break in the communication. The silence seemed to go on forever.

“Is something wrong with the radio?” Jake asked the man that had been working it.

Tim checked everything. “It should be good to go.”

He pressed the COM button again. “Emily.”

Released.

Pressed it again. “Emily!”

Finally it barked back at him. “Jake, I’m so sorry. They just informed me that there is no way to get to the helicopters here right now. The airfield has been overrun with infected. The soldiers that were guarding it are dead.”

Jake’s stomach dropped. He felt sick.

“Jake?”

“I heard you. We’re on our own.”

“The president will have someone come get you, I know he will. It just won’t be from here. Not right now. I will let you know as soon as I hear anything. I’m so sorry, Jake. How long will your supplies last? Can you make it okay for a while? Just in case it takes some time?”

Jake didn’t know what to say. If someone or something was listening to all of this from the beginning, they not only knew where Amy was, but they now knew where the president was as well. The two of them needed to stop this communication right then. It might already be too late.

“Emily. Stop talking on here about people’s names, titles, and whereabouts. We can no longer communicate this way. It’s too dangerous. I’ll figure something out and get back to you.”

“Okay. All right. Someone will always be here by the radio when you need to communicate.”

“Here too. Be safe. And consider getting the POTUS the hell out of there if it’s possible. I don’t know who knows what anymore.”

“I’ll tell him. Stay safe.”

“You too, Emily.”

46

The next morning came and went. No helicopter. So did the next morning––day three––and Jake had just poured himself a cup of coffee after checking with the watchmen. They let him know once again that no helicopter had come. That wasn’t good, but what was worse for Jake was that he checked with the radiomen too, and there was still no word from Colt. It should never have taken his brother that long to get to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, and Jake was doing everything he could to keep the worst out of his mind, but after seeing things like Tom getting his throat chewed out, it was hard for his mind to go anywhere else.

After a full day without running from infected, everyone was all rested up, well fed, and well hydrated. Ready for the next move. But Jake knew they weren’t really ready for a next move. Not for what was coming. That’s why when the first morning had passed without a helicopter coming to take them to Mount Weather, he began training select members of Professor Reed’s group. Training them for the trek they were going to have to make to Mount Weather, Virginia. By land.

He had been communicating with Emily. They talked in as much code as they could. They even said some of the more sensitive things in pig-Latin. But Jake wasn’t counting on anything, or anyone coming to help him. As he had many times over the years with the Army, he instead was preparing for war. He began training Jess, Tyler, Amy, two of Bryan’s men, and three others that were willing to make the journey with them from Charlie’s group in everything from weapons to tactical movements and defensive hand to hand combat.

The thing he couldn’t train them for was the evolution of the infected. Because he had no idea to what level they had evolved. If how far they’d progressed in one day was any indication, he believed they would be completely up to speed by the time he and his crew hit the road. The longer they waited to move, the more complete the infected’s capabilities would be. Which Jake planned to treat them like any other threat he had ever faced, like they were as capable as any of the best soldiers in the world. Preparing for less would leave them even more vulnerable than they already were.

The problem was, his “team” wasn’t ready. They had a lot to learn, even to get the basics down. Bryan was good––he was a Marine––but his two men and the three others were weak. In the meantime, one of the members of the group was a technology expert. They sent out small drones with even smaller cameras just before nightfall yesterday, capturing a look at campus. Overall it was quiet, which made Jake even more nervous. After listening to Amy’s translation of the conversation where the aliens had stated, “move on to phase two”, Jake figured that even though he didn’t see any infected on campus, they were most certainly plotting. Or they at least were making sure they were familiar with all of their host bodies’ cognitive and physical functions. It further reinforced that the longer Jake waited to move Amy, the better prepared the infected would be.

Jess, Tyler, and Amy were comfortable in the basement of what they now knew was the library building at UC. Everyone had been very generous in taking them in and making them feel welcome. Professor Reed was busy helping plot a course to Virginia which stayed off the main roads. Emily was still maintaining that a helicopter would be coming, but she still couldn’t say when. She mentioned there were several bases with working helicopters and planes, they just couldn’t mobilize yet. They were all still fighting to keep the infected at bay.

Jake knew these things were going to just keep coming. He just didn’t know what they wanted. Whether it was extinction, or making Earth their own, it didn’t really matter to him. His job was the same either way; keep them from winning. The first step in that would be securing Amy, and letting people much more knowledgeable than him help understand exactly what she was, and how they could use her to fend off the aliens. Once he got Amy to Mount Weather, he could then be made aware of the situation around the country, which Emily explained there were more people reporting every hour.

Jake knew a war was coming. It was inevitable. And he was built for it, maybe better than anyone else left on the planet. All of that would have to wait. His first mission was clear, and that was his sole focus. Get Amy to Mount Weather.

Day three down in the bunker was going to go just the same as day two had. He had already made love to Jess––the rest of the day he would be spending every hour on a different aspect of combat training. When Jess and Tyler weren’t training, they would be working with Charlie to continue to perfect the course to Virginia and work up a supplies list that would sustain them weeks on the road if necessary. The most difficult was the Beritrix. None of them knew why it continued to keep them from turning into one of the infected, but a daily dose did. Those doses, however, were running low. It would already be gone if everyone had been taking it. But the air filtration system that Charlie had used a lot of the university-allocated money on was doing the trick for the people not on Beritrix.

That was the mission that was set for that evening: to get more Beritrix. They would need a much larger supply with seven or eight of them making the trip to Mount Weather. This would be the first small gauge of how the team would be able to work together, and how their training would hold up. It would also give Jake his first look at how much the infected had evolved. It was a key element in knowing when they could leave for Virginia.

Even this first move out into the open air wasn’t set in stone. If they had a bad day of training that day, that first move would be pushed back too. All Jake could do was focus on the next hour, and then the next one, and so on. He took a sip of his coffee and stared blankly over the common area of the bunker. He was the only one awake other than the guards and radiomen, so the room was empty and silent. Leaving him alone with his thoughts. Every second he had alone with his thoughts, the other thing that had been weighing on his mind maybe more than anything else always came storming back.

His brother Colt and the boys.

Colt had always been a hunter and great outdoorsmen. This fact gave Jake a little bit of hope––that, and the fact that the thing that he and his brother had most in common was that they never quit. Two great qualities when you live in the mountains and the end of the world happens. But worry came with those comforts, because Jake knew how hard it was for him to survive out there, and he was a highly-trained soldier. Not to mention he’d had two adults alongside him. Colt only had his sons, which would only make it more difficult for Colt to survive.

Would Colt be able to handle the evolution of these things? Could he adapt to their changing habits? It had nearly killed Jake twice. If he’d had to protect two young men in the process, it might have turned out differently. The longer the silence lasted for Jake, the more the worry grew. And the more the worry grew, the worse he felt about his brother’s chances. The not knowing was enough to drive a man insane.

Sitting idle was making him sick. He had never had anxiety before, but if he didn’t get up and get moving, it was going to overwhelm him. He didn’t want to know, he needed to know. And the need to know was getting to him. Filling his head with doubt. Any more time alone and—

Jake couldn’t take it. He knocked his coffee mug to the floor with a violent swing of his arm. It smashed into a dozen pieces, he stood from his chair––his insides churning––and let out a scream. Just as he did, the hallway door burst inward and the radioman came running into the room.

“Jake, Emily is on the radio from Mount Weather. She needs to talk to you. She said it’s urgent.”

Jake’s chest was still heaving from the moment he’d had with himself. After hearing the word urgent, his breath quickened even more. “Is it about a helicopter?”

“No, she said it’s about your brother.”

47

South Park, Colorado

Colt Maddox grasped his axe, twisting his fingers around the hickory handle. He brought down the blade with force, cutting through the thick piece of wood like a fiend. The split wood lay in half. He picked up both chunks and tossed them into a disheveled pile.

Bringing his hands to his lower back, he arched into a stretch, and the sun gleamed on his rugged face in the afternoon glow. His shoulders were wide and his arms long, and his thick, dark graying beard just added to his manliness. But father time was catching up with him, as it does all.

Another log rested beneath him on a bed of pine needles. Just as he reached down to lift it, a noise—a reverberating snap—echoed near the edge of his property close to the country road. He shot a look to his right and scanned the area for any sign of intrusion.

He’d had trouble in the past with poachers coming onto his land illegally to hunt elk. All fifty acres of his property were surrounded by state land, and more than a few trespassers had tried to use the excuse that they didn’t know where they were. That was nonsense. Any hunter in these parts knew exactly where they were.

He shook off the noise and reached down again, but again came a snap. This time Colt would not allow it to be a coincidence. He took one step to investigate but was distracted by the sound of rolling tires over crushed gravel. Colt spun to see his wife Anna driving up the driveway in her SUV. She noticed him and gave him a smile and a flicked wave before she proceeded up the drive.

He watched her exit the SUV with an overnight bag in hand. Even after a long day of travel, she was still stunning. Her blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail and she wore a zip-up sweatshirt with a pair of blue jeans that hugged her curves. She had just returned from a trip to visit her sister in New York City. Her plane had landed that morning; only now had she reached their home in the middle of the Rocky Mountains.

She walked up the decked staircase and toward the front door of their log home. Colt stepped forward and started up the slope. He wished to hear all about her trip, but his path was stopped by his son’s call.

“Dad, it’s Uncle Jake,” Dylan yelled to his father. “Says he needs to talk to you right away,” Then Anna came near to her son. She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek before proceeding inside.

Colt shouldered his axe, avoided the scattered trees, and walked up the incline until he reached the patio that led directly to his house. He’d built their house with his own bare hands—sure it took almost five years to complete, but it was perfect, each log set with precision and accuracy, and it would withstand anything mother nature sent to test it.

When he reached the wrap-around deck, Dylan, his oldest son, held out his cell phone. He rested his axe against the wood support that ran to the second story. He smiled at Dylan but waited for him to re-enter their home before speaking to his brother.

“Jacob. Long time, no talk.”

“Where are you?” He cut to the chase.

“Hello, to you too, soldier.”

“Colt, are you with Anna and the boys?”

There was hysteria in Jake’s voice.

“Jacob, what the hell is going on? You sound like you’re hiding from a ghost.”

“Colt! Listen to me. Get Anna and the boys and lock up, don’t let anyone in or out until you hear from me again. There’s some sort of disease or something that has spread. Millions of people are already infected—”

“What are you talking about?” Colt interrupted. “What disease? You mean like the flu?”

“I mean it’s airborne. And if you get it, you’re dead. But still alive. You—”

“Do you realize what you sound like?”

But Jake didn’t acknowledge his question. “Colt, would you just listen to me for once and do what I’m saying? Make sure you keep taking Beritrix. And make sure you give it to Anna and keep giving it to the boys too. You hear me? It will keep you alive for now.”

“Jacob, where are you? What’s going on? It sounds like you’re talking about some sort of apocalypse. Walking dead, stay inside, give everyone Beritrix—”

“I know what it sounds like, Colt. You don’t think it sounds crazy to me too? But I just watched a man chew the Adam’s apple out of a kid’s throat right in front of me. I had to literally smash his brains in to stop him from doing it to me. Get Anna and the boys to safety and lock everything up. Grab any weapon you can, give them the Beritrix, and when I get more information, I’ll call you. Got it?”

Colt lifted the phone from his ear and stared down in disbelief. How? How could there be people doing these things? Alive, but not?

“Colt! Colt!” he heard Jake yell into the phone.

But he didn’t answer his brother. He didn’t bring the phone back to his ear, because as Colt stood, his youngest son, Wesley ran out the front door to play with his dinosaurs on the cedar deck. Frozen in shock, Colt couldn’t shake his brother’s words or even Wesley’s play-talk ringing in his ears, until . . . another snap resounded again in the trees, this time closer to the home. And it wasn’t caused by the rolling tires of Anna’s SUV.

His thought went to his son and his well-being just as he hung up on his brother. Colt turned the corner to see Wesley on his hands and knees. He sprinted toward him and scooped him up without explanation.

“Daddy, what are you doing?” Wesley looked up from his father’s arms.

An emotion lingered on his face—one he’d never shown Wesley before.

Fear.

Once inside, Colt tossed Wesley onto the couch, spun around and slammed the door shut, then locked the deadbolt.

The staircase was just to his right. He climbed to the top, bounding two steps at a time. At the top of the stairs were three doors: the boys’ bedrooms, and Colt’s office. Colt pushed into his office and went directly to the closet. Inside was a Browning gun safe. He typed in the combination and spun the handle.

Three handguns—a Glock 23, a Sig Sauer SP2022, and a .357 Magnum revolver lay across the top of the shelf. Next to the Glock was a belt holster. He lifted the holster and the Glock. Then shoved the magazine inside the Glock, racked the slide to load a round, and pushed the handgun into the holster that sat on his right-side.

Below the shelf were three rifles and a shotgun. He lifted his favorite hunting rifle—a Browning BLR Lightweight ’81—and slung the strap over his head and across his chest. As he was loading ammunition into his pockets, Dylan walked in.

Dylan held tight to his own phone but looked up and said, “Uh, Dad, what are you doing?”

Colt didn’t answer his question, but instead asked one of his own. “Where’s Mom?”

“She said she was going to take a shower.”

Next to the gun safe was a mini-refrigerator. It had multiple uses. Cold beer, soda. But the most important use was for Beritrix. (Medicine Colt and his boys had taken daily since birth due to a defect in their DNA.) Beritrix acted as an immune system booster, and it always needed to be kept cold. If the boys ever had an attack in the middle of the night, Colt’s office was the closest room to theirs. Colt threw open the door and grabbed the remaining three vials and syringes and stuffed them on top of the ammunition he loaded into his pocket.

Without further explanation, Colt breezed by his son. He needed to find Anna.

He hurtled down the staircase. Wesley lay precisely where he left him. He clung to the armrest of the couch, unwilling to move, scared by his own father’s demeanor, but Colt couldn’t stop to calm him or help. Anna needed to know.

From the hallway, Colt heard the shower running. When he reached for the bathroom door, steam poured from underneath.

“Anna?” Colt tapped on the door.

No answer.

He knocked again, this time harder and his voice went up. “Anna, honey, can you hear me?”

He reached for the handle and pulled down. It was unlocked, and the door clicked open.

“Are you in here?” His eyes remained on the floor but rose as he stepped inside in search of his wife. He looked to the glass first, maybe she was inside washing herself and didn’t hear his call.

But she wasn’t there, not in the shower. Instead, she was standing nude with her face against the wall. Her blonde hair was tossed and wiry, different than normal.

“Honey?” he questioned softly. Then Colt noticed more peculiarity.

The skin along her spine, vertebrae by vertebrae, went black as it cascaded from her hairline to the base of her lower back. She turned slow—only an inch at a time. When she faced him, the color left his face. What stared back was not Anna, not his beautiful wife of fifteen years, this was something different, some thing.

Instead of sea green eyes staring back, she peered through eyes void of color, black, with a deep sullen gaze.

Is this what Jacob meant? No. Can’t be. Not Anna.

“An-na?” He held onto hope that his wife was somewhere inside, maybe buried deep, but there all the same.

She made no response. She simply tilted her head, shrieked, and attacked.

48

Only two paces separated Colt and Anna in the bathroom, and even in his moment of shock, he reacted. He bowed up and blocked her exit. She could not pass, the boys couldn’t see her, not like this.

On any normal day, Colt would have been able to handle his wife. She stood five-foot-four and weighed 125 pounds, but when she contacted him it was like running into a brick wall. She sent him flying through the doorway and dropped him on his ass.

He skidded to a halt with his hands acting as brakes on the freshly mopped cedar planked-floor. His righthand brushed against his holster and nicked the Glock. His fingers hovered over the grip, but couldn’t lift it free.

“Anna. I know it’s you, I know you’re in there.” He held up his hand to deflect her approach.

She lacked response, only continued forward, almost stalking him as he sat helplessly. He gulped the lump of spit that formed, thinking there was no way he could stop her, no way he could kill this . . . this apparition that had taken over his wife. She took one more solitary step, but then a yelp echoed from the hallway.

It was Wesley.

Anna whipped her head to the right and saw him.

“Anna no, don’t,” Colt begged, and in that moment, he rose to his feet.

Anna didn’t heed his call, nor did she delay, she ran for Wesley.

Colt chased after her, leaping forward to catch her by the heel just before she reached their son. Colt held on for dear life as she kicked wildly when Dylan came into view.

“Dylan! Get Wesley out of here. Get to the truck, now!”

Though distracted by clutching at Anna’s thrashing leg, Colt saw his boys escape through the front door. Anna screeched again, turning her vacant eyes back on him. His stomach dropped. He couldn’t let go, but she was strong—much stronger than any man he’d encountered, including those he’d wrestled in college.

“Anna. Please, stop!” he pleaded with her.

But she didn’t. When she finally ripped her leg free, she kicked Colt in the solar plexus, sending him scooting across the floor until his back hit a thick round wooden beam that ran the height of the two-story living room.

Before he knew what was happening, she charged again. Out of instinct he ducked, and she flew over his shoulder, tumbling down the staircase to the basement below.

Colt stood and peered into the darkness of the lower level. He was tempted to walk down to see if she was okay, but he remained. Then she rose from her prone state. Her arm was broken, with the bone pushing through the skin. The compound fracture didn’t even faze her.

Upon her first step on the staircase, Colt ran for the open front door. He slammed it shut and locked it with the keycode combination from the outside. Giant two-story windows looked in on the home, and as he moved by, he caught Anna’s eyes. Staring in disbelief, Colt could not comprehend the sight before him. As she walked toward him, her arm remained stuck at an angle not accustomed to human anatomy. She reached with the opposite arm and ripped her forearm to the left, jarring it from where it was stuck.

Watching, Colt waited for her to react. She did. She rushed directly at the window that Colt stood behind and threw her fists into the glass. Upon contact, the window cracked across the middle.

Colt stumbled two steps back, and gripped the handrail of the decking. Upon stepping backward, he kicked his axe over in the process. When he bent down to retrieve it, Anna rushed the window again, and again the window cracked, now along the bottom. It was only a matter of time before it gave way.

Colt jogged down the staircase that led away from the deck and ran for his truck. He threw the axe into the bed, but never took his eyes off the house. Her violent assault on the glass was ceaseless, and seemed nothing was going to stop her attack.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, Colt looked to Dylan who held his brother to his chest as they both sobbed. Colt began to speak but swallowed his words. What could he say? Both had witnessed their mother, or what used to be their mother, vicious toward them, as well as their father. Their world would never be the same.

Keys dangled from the ignition, as they always did; no reason not to leave them there. Colt spun the ignition and started his Ford F-150, still staring back at the house, back at Anna, who would not give up. A single tear welled up in his eye, but he wouldn’t allow it to fall. He had to be strong in front of his boys. But this situation was beyond comprehension, and this might be the last time he’d ever see his wife, even if it was only a shell of her former self.

He refocused, let off the brake, and rolled away. Feeling his phone on his thigh in his front pocket, he leaned over and lifted it to call his brother. The phone rang four times, then went to voicemail.

“Jacob. Call me back immediately, it’s—it’s Anna—” Colt stopped and looked to his boys. He couldn’t continue, not with them listening to the conversation. “Just call me back as soon as you get this.”

The steep decline away from their house brought them to a gap where Colt stopped, and shoved the truck into park. He reached for the handle and opened the door.

“Dad! What are you doing?” Dylan stammered.

“I’ll be right back. Just hold on to your brother.”

Colt walked up the dirt road which ran parallel to their property. He walked nearly 100 feet before stopping. He reached back to unsling his Browning from his back. Putting it tight against his shoulder, Colt pointed the barrel back at the house.

I don’t know what you are, but you are not my wife. He stared down the sight and gritted his teeth. His aim locked on the oversized propane tank resting five yards from the kitchen wall. It was perfect, an easy shot for a marksman like him, but he lifted his jaw away, and sucked in breath. Come on. You can do this. She’s not Anna anymore. Just pull the trigger. But then, out of his left ear he heard it. More crying as his sons looked on. They would witness his next decision and carry it with them always.

Colt raised the barrel. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t murder her, even if there was no semblance of what she used to be. There was too much history, too much love.

When he walked back to the truck, Wesley peered up from Dylan’s chest and asked, “Dad, where’s Mommy?”

Dylan locked eyes with his father, waiting for Colt to speak. He couldn’t lie, not with Dylan knowing the truth.

“Gone, son. She’s gone.”

Then Colt drove away from the only life the boys had ever known.

49

The sun was getting lower in the sky, only peeking above the line of fourteeners stacked in the western sky. Colt looked over at Dylan, then Wesley, who leaned on his older brother. Dylan held his gaze westward, resting against the window and staying silent. Colt could only imagine what was running through his mind. What thirteen-year-old could comprehend this? None.

Colt wished to speak, to give his son hope, to express wisdom. But this lacked understanding. And if what Jake said was true, and more had become what Anna had become, then things would turn dire, and hopefulness would fade like the passing breeze.

Turning his attention back out the windshield, Colt stared up on the hill. His neighbor, if you call someone with his own fifty-acre property a neighbor, was driving up his driveway.

“Walter,” Colt spoke, if only to himself.

Walter Gantry was in his early seventies—a Vietnam vet with a prickly demeanor. Colt hadn’t said much to him over the past few months since he’d once yelled at Dylan while he was driving their four-wheeler. Dylan had accidentally careened onto his property as he swerved to miss a fox that scooted across the roadway directly in front of him. Walter had seen the incident and yelled down from his house before coming over and chewing out Anna and the boys while Colt was away in town.

Colt’s focus shifted from his neighbor when his phone vibrated. He pulled it out and saw it was his brother.

“Jacob, you got my message? What the hell is going on?”

“Is everything okay? Anna and the boys? Are they all right?”

Colt’s mouth was glued shut. He turned to look at his son’s as emotion struck again. Just hearing her name brought on a paralyzing sentiment.

“Me and the boys, we . . . we just left the house.”

“And Anna?”

Colt lifted the phone away from his ear and brought it down to his chin. He looked to the ceiling of his truck and stuffed the tears back down.

When he returned the phone to his ear, Jake spoke again. “She was infected?”

“Yes.”

“Shit, Colt.”

Colt ground his teeth, pissed that his wife had been taken over, by this, this pandemic. “What are these things, Jacob?”

“I’m not sure. It’s spreading like a virus, but . . .”

“But what?”

“It’s just strange, is all. How the whole thing started.”

“You know how it started?”

“Doesn’t matter. All I can tell you is I know a doctor who is in DC with the president right now. She said our entire military is gone. And not just ours, countries all over the world are reporting the same thing. That their armed forces were infected first.”

Colt stalled. He couldn’t believe his ears, and he spoke out of speculation. “So, what? This is a terrorist attack? Bio-chemical warfare that turns people into . . . zombies? That doesn’t make sense. What good would that do the terrorists if the entire world was infected?”

“You’re right, it doesn’t make sense. But maybe something went wrong. Maybe whoever did this didn’t mean for it to have the effect that it had. Or didn’t mean for it to spread this wide.”

“How widespread is it?”

“Wide as it gets. Right now I’m holed up in an attic, surrounded by the bastards. Where are you?”

“We just left the house.” Colt paused, looking up at Walter’s house. “I might stop by the neighbors and make sure everyone is all right. After that . . . who knows.”

Jake paused on the other end. Then came back. “Colt my contact in DC is calling. I have to take it. We are going to do our best to get to DC and try to figure this thing out. I know it’s a long way for you, but I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Listen, little brother. The power could go out at any time, cell service too. I suggest you find an old CB radio somewhere. I’m sure that’s the way the government will have to contact everyone. Might be the only communication soon. We’ll do our best to get to DC, but that’s a lot of road. Not sure what we’ll run into.”

“Be careful, Colt.”

“You too, Jacob.”

Colt hung up the phone and peered back toward Walter’s driveway. That snake. Should I warn him? He doesn’t deserve it. It was true there was no love lost there. Colt continued to drive, nearing Walter’s driveway. As he followed the road around the corner, he was about to pass, but stopped instead. He was reminded of his own words to his brother. It was humane to check on him.

“What are you doing?” Dylan turned his attention away from the mountains.

Colt glanced up the long driveway, then spun the wheel to the left and climbed.

Dylan persisted. “Dad. What are you doing?”

“Warning Walter. He may not deserve it, but . . . I can’t just leave him.”

But as Colt drove, they came upon Walter’s old Chevy, which was stopped halfway up the drive, precisely where Colt had seen him driving from far off. Colt’s mouth fell open. “What the—”

“Why’s he stopped there, Dad?” Wesley said.

Colt shoved the gearshift into park and let his F-150 idle. He waited a moment and gathered his bearings, glancing up toward the house, searching for any sign of movement because the Chevy appeared empty. Colt reached down and unbuckled his seatbelt. Grabbing the grip of his Glock, he lifted the handgun free to set it on the dashboard. “Only in an emergency.” He looked to Dylan, then nodded to the gun.

“Dad, no. Don’t go,” Wesley begged.

Colt reached for the door handle and got out. As he held his door open, he lifted his Browning and gave one last fleeting glance to his boys. “I’ll be back,” he said, then gingerly shut the truck door and proceeded to the backend of the Chevy.

It was quiet. Even for the mountains, where you’re unlikely to encounter another human being unless you mean to. But this was different. Even the sound of nature was absent. No chirping birds. No wind rustling through the leaves of the aspen trees. Nothing.

He took one step. Then another.

As Colt crept along the passenger side of the Chevy, he glanced to the house perched on the hill. There was no movement. Why was the truck still there, stalled? Were his eyes playing tricks on him from the road? He swore Walter had been heading up his driveway. Maybe Colt was in a state of shock? But he would’ve staked his life savings that the Chevy was in motion.

Nearing the passenger door, he reached for the handle to push in the button, but as he got close, as he was about to thumb the switch, Walter made himself known.

The old man rose from the bench seat and put his hands on the steering wheel at ten and two. Something felt off. Colt lifted his hand away from the button, then rapped on the window as Walter stared forward.

“Walter.”

But the old man didn’t acknowledge his call. Colt never knew him to be hard of hearing. Perhaps he was lost in thought.

Colt knocked again. “Walter. You alright in there?” Colt grasped his Browning tighter now, not knowing what to expect.

Walter’s mouth fell open, and he turned his head slowly—inch by inch—until his cold black eyes stared back at Colt.

“Holy shit.” Colt backed away, struck in disbelief. He lifted his rifle, aiming it Walter’s head. “Walter, you just . . . just stay there.” Colt warned, but deep down he knew this thing wouldn’t listen.

Like a ball being shot from a canon, Walter lurched forward, head butting the glass of the passenger side window.

Colt kept his aim locked. Soon Walter, or whatever this thing was, would break free and reach for him. Instantly he was reminded of what Jake had said. Jake witnessed one of these things ripping the throat from a young boy. As he stared at Walter, he imagined that young boy being Dylan, or Wesley, and there was no way he would let that happen.

One more thrust of his head and Walter broke through the window. Shattered glass stuck in Walter’s thinning hair as he looked up. Colt didn’t hesitate, he wouldn’t allow another attempt at his life. He squeezed the trigger and sent the bullet directly through Walter’s skull. From that distance, with the caliber of his bullet, there was little left of him as his body tumbled back onto the bench seat of his truck.

Colt looked to his own truck. Both sons stared at him through the windshield. They’d witnessed the entire thing. As he looked into their eyes, fear was fixed on their little faces. Wesley dropped down, huddling into Dylan’s chest. Dylan continued to stare at his father, but his eyes were glazed over. Colt knew it then: the innocence of youth was gone.

Dropping into the driver’s seat, Colt set his rifle on the floor next to his right leg. There was silence until Wesley reached for his father, and wrapped him tight around the mid-section, squeezing with all his might.

“It’s okay, buddy.” But it wasn’t. And Wesley wouldn’t let go.

Colt held onto him. We can’t stay here. Colt knew they wouldn’t be safe in the truck overnight, and it would be dark soon. As Colt spun around to look out the back window to the west, he knew they had to find shelter. Since Walter lived alone, Colt figured the best place to hunker down for the night would be his house.

Colt reached over his son’s head and lowered the gear into drive. The driveway wasn’t wide, and Colt would need to off-road up the side of the sloped driveway to climb beyond Walter’s Chevy. The tires of the F-150 caught the shoulder of the incline, and Colt turned the wheel to the left as the truck tilted on the axis of the rising property and continued.

When they passed the Chevy, Colt kept his eyes forward as Wesley pushed his face deeper into his father’s side. But curiosity got the better of Dylan. He glanced back to witness the blood spatter engulfing the inside of the cabin.

The switch-backing driveway rose until they reached the perched house—an A-frame cabin with a tuck-under garage. The garage was topped with a deck that stared westward to showcase the view of the mountains in the distance.

Colt stopped and glanced at his sons. “We’re going to stay here tonight.”

Dylan leaned forward and stared out the windshield but remained quiet.

Just as Colt reached for the door, Wesley grabbed tighter. “No. No. I don’t want to go, I want to go home, I want to see Mommy.”

Colt rubbed his son’s back to calm him. “Shh, I know you do, buddy, but . . .” he stalled.

“Mom’s dead,” Dylan said abruptly, then swung the passenger door open and stormed out.

“Dyl—” Colt wished to stop him, but Wesley looked up at his father from his lap, his eyes misty. Colt forced a smile through the emotion that struck him. “It’s just for tonight, okay,” Colt whispered, but that smile faded at another sound. Only one word, a shout from his eldest son.

“Dad!”

50

Three mountain lions crept close to Dylan, tracking him after he stepped outside. Their eyes were piercing yellow. All six focused on Dylan as he trembled. As Colt assessed the situation, he recalled two things: mountain lions are solitary animals. And they never let themselves be seen. This scenario was disconcerting, and their behavior uncharacteristic as they snuck closer, almost circling Dylan, sizing him up before they pounced.

Grabbing the Glock from the dashboard, Colt leaped out and fired three shots into the air. The mountain lions shuddered but didn’t retreat. Their attention shifted to Colt. He pointed the Glock toward them, but as he adjusted his grip, he realized the .40 caliber rounds wouldn’t likely stop them. Especially if they worked in unison. The likelihood he would get more than one shot off if attacked was dubious.

With the mountain lions’ attention off Dylan, Colt spoke out of the side of his mouth, “Dylan, walk to me. But come slow.”

Upon his first step, rocks shifted beneath his feet. The lions’ attention returned to Dylan, and the closest let out a growl. Dylan went rigid, and Colt stepped closer to his son, aiming the Glock. It was decision making time. Should Colt shoot the lion who roared, clearly showing dominance over the other two by his action—or should he run to cover his son as the lions tore through his flesh, devouring him for a meal?

Before Colt could act, a thunderous cacophony echoed amongst the trees and mountains. Disoriented by the sound, the mountain lions took one step back, then another. But Colt didn’t believe they were withdrawing from the fight; perhaps it was a trap for him to let his guard down.

Colt stepped forward again. He blew anger through his teeth as the lions fell further back into the property. It wasn’t until they disappeared into the forest that he dropped the raised pistol and ran to his son.

Colt held Dylan tight, while peering over his shoulder, waiting for the lions to reappear. They didn’t. And when Colt pushed out of the hug, the noise from overhead grew louder, rising from the north and west.

An AgustaWestland AW139 helicopter was bookended by two Bell UH-1N’s. They flew low in the sky and in-formation. Air Force? Colt thought. He and Dylan looked to the blueish-orange sky above and waved their arms.

“Here! Down here!” Colt yelled.

But the helicopters didn’t deviate from their heading. Their path was clear, destined for Colorado Springs. Instantly Colt remembered what Jake had said. This started with the military. Our military is gone. But if they were gone, who was flying over them?

Colt ran to his truck, and when he opened the door, Wesley jumped into his arms.

“Hold on, buddy.” He set Wesley down, then reached into the cab to lift his rifle. After he slung it across his chest, he handed the Glock back to Dylan, then lifted Wesley back up.

“Make sure of your target before you pull that trigger. Like I taught you. And don’t raise that barrel unless absolutely necessary. Understand?”

Dylan nodded and squeezed close to his father. Colt led, with Dylan close by his side, his head on a swivel. They didn’t need another surprise like the mountain lions.

A staircase rose from the right side of the house that led to the wrap-around deck. Colt climbed the stairs, carrying Wesley, holding him tight to his chest as Dylan walked backward, staying vigilant for a surprise attack. Once up, Colt walked toward the front door. He reached down and tested the handle. Locked.

“Damn,” he said, then moved around the corner. He looked up to see the river-rock chimney climb high above the pointed A-frame. Right-angled windows paralleled the chimney, and below them were sliding glass doors. He pulled the first slider; again it was locked.

“Walter!” Colt shook his head. “Who’s he trying to keep out, anyway?”

Then Colt stepped around the protruding chimney and tried the other slider. This one slid open.

“Thank God.” He set Wesley down and let him proceed inside. Dylan was next. Colt remained outside, staring back at his own house set amongst a group of aspen trees. Thoughts of Anna crept into his psyche—sweet memories as he stared at their bedroom windows. She was kind. Passionate for her husband and her children. Strong-willed, not stubborn, but held her ground and didn’t take shit from anybody. He paid homage to her, a tribute before ducking into Walter’s cabin. He remembered her for what she used to be, not what she was now.

Colt stepped in behind his sons. They hadn’t moved another inch. Their eyes danced around the living room. At least twenty animal heads stuck out from the walls. Deer, elk, pronghorn, moose, jackrabbit, even a wild boar hung there.

“What is this place?” Dylan said.

“A trophy room,” Colt answered.

Colt walked beyond his sons, heading directly for the refrigerator. The Beritrix needed to remain cold. He opened the door, feeling for cold air. The refrigerator was old and did not display a digital reading of the temperature anywhere. Colt felt cold air rush out, but fell back at the presence of a foul odor. Argh, something’s rotten. Colt pulled his shirt away from his chest and lifted it over his nose. He searched the contents and saw a brown paper bag in the rear, against the back. Fluid stains made circles and ovals all over the bag. He pinched the bag in-between his thumb and index finger and lifted it out. A pungent aroma followed. When Colt turned, Dylan saw him holding the bag away from his body and asked.

“What is that?”

“Don’t know, but I’m not keeping it in the same fridge as our medicine.” He walked through the sliding glass door and to the opposite side of the home and tossed the bag into the woods.

When returned, Colt went to the open fridge and searched the contents. “Are you guys hungry?” Only ketchup, mustard, a jug of mayo, and three packets of relish sat on the high shelf. A jar of dill pickles sat in the middle, along with a half-gallon of milk with today’s date on it.

“I don’t think I could eat anything after smelling that,” Dylan said.

“I don’t blame you,” Colt grinned. “But we gotta eat something, and soon.” Above the fridge was the stacked freezer. He pulled the door open and searched inside. There was a bag of frozen hamburgers and hotdogs, but nothing else. Deep in his gut, Colt knew the power would fail soon. He closed the freezer and moved to the pantry. It was nearly barren, aside from a half-opened box of spaghetti. He lifted the box and turned it over looking for the best-by date. The noodles had expired months ago. Ridiculous.

Once back in the kitchen, Colt stopped and leaned on the island. They couldn’t afford to spend too much time in Walter’s house, and they needed supplies for the long road ahead. Just as Colt found a pad of paper and pen to make a list, he glanced up. His mind was scattered. Are we really going to DC? How the hell are we going to make that trip? That’s almost 2,000 miles. We’ll be dead before we leave Denver. Perhaps that was speculation, but Colt had seen enough ‘end of the world’ movies to know population meant death. The better scenario was to find something closer, some vacant property in the mountains, and wait. But if Jake was right and Beritrix was the only thing keeping them human, waiting was not an option.

At that, Colt abandoned the pad and paper and searched the cabinets for a pot to boil water. The noodles would provide energy for the following day, and the hamburgers would give them protein. Once he found a pot, he filled it with water and stuck it over the lit burner.

When he returned to his blank list, he peered up to think, and in doing so saw his sons standing on the opposite end of the home and staring out the window.

“Dylan? What is it?” Colt moved toward them as they stared.

But Dylan remained quiet.

“Dylan?” Colt wondered why he didn’t receive an answer. But as he approached, he peered over his son’s heads. His eyes bulged as he saw the same three mountain lions devouring the paper bag full of rotten meat. He wrapped his arms around them and pulled them back into the middle of the home.

Upon their first step, the floor creaked. Colt froze in place. He could still see the animals through the window. The small snack didn’t occupy them for long before their attention was back on the house. The mountain lions broke apart, each pouncing in different directions. Colt left his boys and moved to the window, partially shielding himself by the interior walls as he searched through the glass, making only his head visible.

“I’m scared, I want to go home,” Wesley said. “I want Mommy.”

Colt whipped around to see Wesley’s first movement. It was toward the sliding door they had just entered.

“Wesley, no!” Colt raised his hand, but it was too late.

Wesley reached the sliding door and slid it open. Colt broke for him, sprinting across the living room. When he reached him, Wesley already had one foot outside, Colt grabbed him and pulled him back inside, falling to the wood floor in the process.

“Stay down!” Colt was furious but had no time to reprimand his son. He rose from the floor, and as he turned, he stopped. Immobile at the presence of a mountain lion. The lion crept forward, but only a few inches. His shoulders rose and fell with each step before coiling onto his back paws, ready to pounce.

Colt was helpless. His Browning was twenty feet behind him, sitting on the countertop. If he made a move toward it, he’d risk the lion attacking Wesley on the ground. Not knowing what else to do, Colt held his hands out to his side, making himself seem bigger. Maybe he could intimidate the lion. Maybe the lion would just turn and run away. But that was wishful thinking.

Instead, the lion attacked. Bending its hind legs, the beast pounced. As it flew, Colt spread his arms wide, ready to catch the animal in his long thick arms. He didn’t know what he’d do once he caught the beast, but figured he could hold on long enough for his sons to reach safety. But the lion never reached him. Instead a loud burst echoed inside the home. A gun shot.

The lion let out a yelp once the bullet pierced its hide and fell to the ground. Colt ripped his head around in shock to see Dylan on the other side of a smoking gun. Dylan locked his grip tight and fired again. Again, the bullet punctured the fur. The lion turned and hobbled as blood poured from its wounds. As he turned for the exit, his long tail dragged through the pooling blood on the floor and eventually made its final exit.

Colt crept to the door and yanked it shut just as the lion fled. He stared through the glass and watched as the other two lions leaped on top of the injured animal, sunk their teeth in, and tore it apart.

51

Cheyenne Mountain Complex: Colorado Springs, Colorado

The fleet of helicopters hovered above the earth as Henry Lawrence, the vice president, stared out the window at a giant H stamped into the concrete of the landing pad. Six armed men were standing guard, waiting for the chopper to land. Each man kept a keen eye outward, away from the landing chopper, never taking their eyes off the wilderness. It was as if they expected to see something running at their position at any moment.

When the vice president’s helicopter touched down, the pilot stifled the rotors, shutting down the engine. One of the armed men ripped the door open and reached inside. Over the noise, he yelled, “Sir, I’m Colonel Jenkins. We need to get you to the briefing room immediately. The president is waiting to speak with you.”

With a panicked look on his face, the vice president asked, “Does he know what’s going on?” Ordinarily a colonel in the Air Force wouldn’t know all aspects of the truth, not at the presidential level, especially in the matter of national security, but the vice president was in shock and didn’t know what he was asking in that moment.

“I don’t know, sir. My orders are to bring you inside. That is all.”

The vice president scooted toward the open hatch and stepped onto the skids of the chopper. “Lead on, Colonel.”

Joining the vice president was the president’s chief of staff. Both men leaped out and jogged behind Colonel Jenkins. They ran through a half-moon opening built into the side of a mountain of rock. This was a main entrance, an entrance tall enough and long enough to fit five semi-trucks inside. The vice president looked up the face of the opening, following the mountain upward. The wall of jagged rock climbed, seemingly to the heavens, as the top disappeared into the low-lying cloud bank.

Once through the semi-circular opening, the temperature dropped. The air was cool and dry. Not surprising due to the lack of sunlight. Colonel Jenkins continued forward, only stopping at the guarded desk to offer his credentials.

“Mr. Vice President, sir, it’s my honor,” the guard saluted.

He nodded to the guard, then proceeded inward.

“Colonel,” the vice president said as they walked.

“Yes, Mr. Vice President.” He didn’t turn but rather continued his path with haste.

“Have you seen many of those . . .” he paused, not knowing what to call them.

“We call them infected, sir.”

“Sure. Have you seen them?”

“Of course, sir. They’ve overrun the city. We’ve held off many as they tried to breach the complex. There are still some outside the gates, but I assure you, the gate will hold. Luckily, we had just enough men to defend ourselves. And this place is pretty much a fortress, so it’s unlikely they could even break through.”

“Thank God for that,” Mark Joyner the joint chief added.

“How many men do you have?” the vice president asked.

Finally he stopped at a door and spun around. “Wish we had more.” He opened his hand and welcomed the men inside.

The vice president nodded and walked inside. The joint chief followed him. Both took their seats at the back end of a long rectangular table and faced a screen. The TV screen spanned across the entire wall of the conference room. It was only them inside as Colonel Jenkins waited outside and stood guard. The screen sparked to life, and the president stared forward.

“Oh, Hank, I’m so glad to see you safe,” the president said. “You too, Mark.”

“It was touch and go there for a while in Salt Lake City. We barely made it out alive,” the vice president said. “But, yes, John, we’re safe now. And as you know, this place is pretty much impregnable.”

“Good. Hunker down for the time being and let me go over the situation.”

“Mr. President,” Mark spoke up.

“What is it, Mark?”

“Do we know what this thing is yet? Has anyone claimed responsibility?”

“That’s where I was about to begin. Not that we’ve heard,” the president said.

“Sir, do you think this is an outbreak?” Mark added.

“That’s hard to say. I don’t think we have enough information to make that call right now.”

Mark slumped back in his chair, and the president saw him fall defeated. “But we have our best men and women working on that right now. We have the finest minds studying this pandemic. I assure you, if this is an outbreak, they will find the cure to save us all. But until they do, don’t forget to take those.” The president nodded to the table where a collection of vials of Beritrix were sitting. “Take it every day.”

“Will do, John,” The vice president said.

“Even though I have no doubt that the complex is safe and can withstand this disaster, I feel it’s best you try to meet me here at Mount Weather. If we’re all together, I won’t have to worry about the rest of my cabinet. Are the choppers prepped and ready for takeoff?”

“I believe so, John. After we arrived, Connor Masterson, our pilot, informed us he would stay with the chopper and refuel. He is at our disposal when we need him. And he is one hell of a pilot. Trust me when I say we’ve got the best to get us out of here.”

“I have no doubt. Those Air Force boys are one of a kind. I do have one favor to ask before you leave.”

“Name it, John.”

“I was told by one of my finest scientists that a man and his two boys would be making their way toward your position. It is mission critical he and his family accompany you here to Virginia.”

“A man, sir? His family?” The vice president knew how unlikely it would be to find them.

“I know what you’re thinking, Hank, but like I said, they are critical.”

“How are we supposed to find this family?” Mark asked.

“Like I said, supposedly, they are on their way to you.”

“And how long would you like us to wait?” the vice president asked.

The president sighed on screen. “Don’t wait more than two days. If they don’t show up tomorrow, you could send some men if you feel it’s safe.”

“With all due respect, sir, do you think it’s wise to send our own men to find them? Isn’t our military more important than this family? I mean, how much manpower do we even have left?’

“Yes, they are as important, maybe more so. Besides, Hank, you of all people should know how it is—sometimes you need to sacrifice a few pawns to capture the king.”

“You’re sure, John?” the vice president asked.

He nodded.

“Then consider it done.”

“But to answer the second part of the question: in short, no. We don’t know how much of the military we have left at this point. How many men do they have on the ground there?”

“Colonel Jenkins said not enough, but he’s right outside, shall I bring him in and ask?”

“Please do,” the president said.

The vice president nodded to Mark, who walked over and opened the door and invited the colonel inside.

He stepped in and stared to the wall, immediately saluting the screen. “At ease,” the president said. “How many military personnel do you have available to you?”

“Seventeen, Mr. President.”

“Seventeen?” The president nodded his head on the screen, seeming to mull over the number. “Very well. Thank you, Colonel.”

Colonel Jenkins saluted and left the room once again.

Once Colonel Jenkins was out of earshot, the president spoke again, “That’s less than I expected. We have a lot more here. Hopefully, we’ll get word there’re more around the world, but for now, let’s consider what we have. That’s all I have for you, Hank. When I find out more, I’ll call you back.”

“Do you think we’ll continue to have power?” Mark asked.

“I can’t imagine we will for much longer, but . . . that’s a good point actually. Sooner or later, I assume the power will fail. Talk to the colonel about prepping the radio room for a frequency we can communicate over. I assume he’s done so, but with the lack of personnel, maybe he hasn’t had the chance. Again, that’s all I have for now. Remember to be on the lookout for that family and leave as soon as they show up. Don’t stay any longer than you need to.”

“Roger that, John.”

The president appeared serious when he spoke on the screen, as if this was life and death. “Oh, and Hank . . . be careful.”

“Always am, sir.”

The president nodded and the screen went black.

52

South Park, Colorado

Once the mountain lions had devoured their meal, they turned their attention back onto the house. Colt stepped away from the sliding glass door and fell back to the middle of the room. On his way toward his sons, he lifted his rifle from the table, then grabbed them and huddled close together, watching the predators approach the glass.

One of the lions licked its lips as blood from his former companion dripped into his mouth. As the lion peered inside, the animal lifted its paw and swiped at the door. His nails scratched, drawing a six-inch line across the bottom third. Then the lion brought its nose to the deck, where blood from the now deceased lion stained the wood, and slopped up the mess with his tongue.

The other mountain lion walked toward the opposite sliding door. He fell onto his hind legs and sprung at the glass. The door held, but the lion pushed hard to test its limits.

“Dad, I’m sca-red,” Dylan said.

“Me too, son. Just aim your gun at the door. If the glass shatters, don’t hesitate to put another bullet in him. On second thought, empty the entire magazine.”

But the lion fell from the door, back onto all fours. The door held, but the lions didn’t vacate; instead they paced across the deck and waited for another mistake.

Colt pushed out the breath he was holding in. “I think it’s okay now.”

“You don’t think th-ey, th-ey can get in, do you, Dad?” Wesley peered up at him.

Colt knelt to his son’s level. “No, buddy, I don’t. But I need you to use your brain next time.” Colt fluffed his son’s hair.

“Yeah, idiot! You almost got us all killed.” Dylan glared at his younger brother.

“Dylan, that’s enough!” Colt scolded him, looking back over his shoulder.

Dylan huffed and walked away.

“Where are you going?” Colt didn’t want him to stray far.

“To piss. That alright with you?”

Colt didn’t need to answer but showed disdain at his choice of words in front of his younger brother. He returned his attention to Wesley, offering a smile, but fear remained on Wesley’s face. He pulled him into a hug before moving toward the sliding glass doors. On the other side of the glass, both lions rose from their prone state and shadowed Colt’s movements. Colt pulled the blinds shut. They slid across the track until they reached the far end. He twisted the rod, and the blinds swayed, then closed. Then he walked toward the other side and did the same.

“Out of sight, out of mind.” He turned to Wesley and offered a smile and a wink.

“I’m hungry, Daddy,” Wesley said.

It seemed making the lions invisible put his son at ease, at least for the moment. “Sounds good, champ, I’ll get right on it.”

Colt set his rifle down again and moved to the stove, where he hadn’t realized the water had been boiling for a few minutes. He dumped the spaghetti noodles into the stock pot and opened the fridge to grab the hamburger meat. Throwing open multiple cabinet’s, he scavenged for a frying pan, then tossed in two frozen patties.

“What’s this?” Dylan nodded to the covered sliding glass door, upon his return from the bathroom.

“Out of sight, out of mind.”

“That’s stupid! It’s never going to work.”

“Easy, kid. I’m doing whatever will put your brother’s mind at ease.”

Dylan didn’t respond to his father, but was more interested in what was cooking. “You really think it’s a good idea to put the smell of raw meat in the air?”

Colt whipped his head around at the sound of searing hamburger. Huh. Maybe Dylan was right. In fact, he knew he was. Colt moved to the burner and cut off the gas.

“At least we still have the noodles.” Colt forced a smile.

“This is so stupid,” Dylan mumbled, then turned and walked away from his father.

“Excuse me?” Colt said, but Dylan didn’t offer a response, only shook his head and huffed.

Leaning over the countertop, Colt hovered over the pad of paper. He lifted the pen and began to make a list of supplies.

Food

Meds

Cooler

Ice

Flashlight

Ammo

Knives

TP

Blankets

Pillows

Clothes

“Dylan, come here. I need your help.” Colt’s head remained down. He didn’t see Dylan walk over. When he raised his head, he said. “Oh. Can you see if you can find any of these supplies?” Colt ripped the paper from the pad.

Dylan looked at the list, then to his father. “Why do we need all this? Where are we going?”

Should he tell him? Would he worry too much if he knew? But what choice did Colt have? Dylan and Wesley would know the plan soon enough. They’d be leaving everything behind and never turning back.

“Uncle Jacob said we need to get to DC.”

“Washington DC? What’s there?”

“I don’t know. But it’s safer there than here.”

“How do you know that?” Dylan was skeptical. He had every right to be. His father couldn’t be certain.

“I don’t, but . . . we can’t stay here.” He nodded to the doors.

Dylan looked to them. Then Colt’s phone buzzed again. He lifted it from his pocket, but hesitated to open it, then said, “Please, can you go look?”

“Argh. Fine.” Dylan spun and stormed off.

But the phone didn’t buzz because someone was calling, but rather because he missed a call from Jake. Instantly, he rang his brother back.

“Colt, everything okay?”

“We’re alive. Okay is another story, I guess. You get out of the attic?”

“We’re in an RV, on our way to Cincinnati. Trying to make a helicopter that’ll be flying to Mount Weather in Virginia.”

“Speaking of helicopters, saw a few military choppers flying overhead toward Colorado Springs. Thought you said there was no military left?”

“I just talked to Emily. She said they received word that the Vice President is being taken to Cheyenne Mountain Complex. Said they’ve had a few bases report back since I last spoke with her. Their numbers are devastated, but there are more that aren’t infected than we thought. Hopefully a lot more people not infected than we even know. Where are you?”

“At the neighbor’s. We ran into some . . . trouble.”

“Yeah, I would imagine you did.” Jake paused for a moment, before continuing. “Emily is going to let the people at Cheyenne Mountain Complex know you and the boys will be coming. How are they holding up?”

“They’re fine. Look, Jacob, I know you don’t like listening to me much, and I know you’re a highly trained soldier and all, but you’ve got to be smart. Don’t stop till you get to Cincinnati. Don’t miss that helicopter. And don’t worry about us. The boys know how to shoot, and I know these mountain roads pretty well. Just get yourself to Mount Weather. Tomorrow will bring some clarity.” He was being the protective older brother. Even though Jake had the information, he still felt like he needed to oversee his brother’s safety. He had always looked after him—always—but more so, since their parents untimely deaths.

“Don’t worry about me. This isn’t my first war,” Jake said.

“Just don’t get cocky. It’ll make you complacent. And that will get you killed.”

Colt expected to hear his brother come back with something, some comment about being invisible, like some superhero or something, but there was nothing but dead air.

“Jacob?” He took the phone away? “Jacob? Are you there?”

But he wasn’t. Then Colt’s phone went black. “Little brother, you there?” Colt knew this would happen. Again, it was only a matter of time.

Colt pushed the power button on his phone, but nothing but black stared back at him.

Cell service was gone. He and the boys were alone. No one to call. No one to help.

53

“Uh, Dad, what happened?” There was a tinge of fear behind Dylan’s voice as he looked to his father, who could do nothing but stare blankly at his phone.

“Cell service is out.” Colt walked over to the blinds and pulled them back. The mountain lions were still there, laying on the deck and licking what was left of the meat from the carcass. “Did you find everything on the list?” He looked to Dylan.

Dylan stared at the floor. All Colt saw was a cooler. “Some. But not everything.”

“Wesley,” Colt said. His son stood from the couch. Then he turned attention back on Dylan. “Did you find any flashlights.”

“One.” Dylan held it up.

“Good. Wesley, come over here. You two need to stick together. Try to find what’s on this list before it gets too dark. I don’t know how much longer the power will stay on.” Colt looked to the windows on the side of the house. The sun was getting lower in the sky, nearly behind the mountains in the west. Once the sun dipped below those mountains, it would be dark almost instantly, and the cold would follow. He glanced to his watch. “I’d say we’ve got about twenty minutes before it’s pitch-black outside and about an hour before the temperature starts to drop. You two work together. Do this as quick as possible. I’m going to get a fire going to keep us warm for the night in case we lose the power of the furnace.”

“Do you want me to fill this with ice?” Dylan kicked the cooler.

“No. As long as we keep that freezer door closed, the ice should stay frozen until morning. We can’t risk the medicine going bad. It must stay in the fridge and cold.”

“You know the ice from the freezer won’t last until DC, right?” Dylan said.

“Change of plans. We aren’t going to DC anymore.” Colt walked beyond his son.

Dylan spun and said, “What? Then where?”

“The Cheyenne Mountain Complex in the Springs to meet the vice president.”

“Cheyenne Mountain?” Dylan was confused, only hearing of the secret entrance into the mountain once when he came across it on the internet. “You mean, the vice president.”

Colt faced his son. “That’s right. But we aren’t leaving this house until we find the supplies we need because who knows how long it will actually take us to drive those 100 miles?”

Colt let the boys disappear into Walter’s bedroom before he moved to the fireplace. Only five logs were stacked neatly on the log holder. He picked up a chunk of aspen wood. It was bone dry and would no doubt light fast and stay burning long. Colt searched for kindling, but there was none nearby. “What I wouldn’t give for my axe right now.” With no axe, Colt peeled the outer bark away from the wood with his fingertips, collecting enough shards to act as the kindling he’d need. “Matches? Matches?” Colt glanced around the area but found nothing. He rose from beside the fireplace to continue his search and noticed a box of matches at eye level on the mantle. He shook the box vigorously, but he heard nothing rattling inside.

Without hope, Colt slid the box open. One match remained. He lifted it, then looked to his stacked logs and kindling. There was little doubt he could start the fire with one match—he’d been doing it his entire life—but just as he moved the head to the strike pad, the match bent in half and broke. Only half an inch hung on.

His demeanor didn’t change. He had no other choice. They needed to stay warm. The heat wouldn’t work without power, and at night, at this altitude, even in the summer, temperatures could plummet below freezing. Colt struck the head, and the flame sparked. He dropped the match onto the kindling, then bent down close, and began to blow lightly, stoking the flame with his breath. Within an instant the wood began to crackle.

After shutting the cage to the fireplace, he searched for his sons. They were still in Walter’s room.

When he arrived into the bedroom, Colt asked, “How much of the list do you have left?”

“Only a couple things. Food. Water. A few rounds of ammunition,” Dylan said.

“Why don’t you take a break and go sit by the fire. Grab those blankets and those pillows from the bed. We’ll be sleeping by the fireplace tonight.”

Dylan and Wesley grabbed what they could handle, and Colt gathered the rest. Once his sons were situated by the fire, he moved to the stove. He lifted a plastic spoon from the drawer and tested the noodles. Perfectly al dente. This meal was important, considering Colt couldn’t know when their next meal would come. He plated the pasta, and walked over to his sons, handing each of them their dinner.

“What, no sauce?” Dylan stared at his plate of plain noodles.

“Sorry, stud, it’s what I got.”

Dylan tossed his plate to the side, and half of the noodles dumped over the edge and onto the floor.

Colt’s demeanor switched from protective to irritated in an instant. “Pick that up, now.” Dylan glared at his father. He saw his father meant business.

“Noodles are gross without sauce.” He picked one up and showed him.

“I don’t care. It’s what we have, and you need your strength. Now eat!”

Once dinner was finished, Wesley yawned audibly and leaned into Colt.

“Whoa, buddy. It’s been quite a day. I think it’s time you get some sleep,” Colt said.

“I don’t want to leave you.” Wesley leaned in harder.

“You and Dylan can sleep right there. I’ll be right here in front of the fire.”

Wesley crawled onto the couch, and Colt dropped a pillow underneath his head, then covered him with a blanket. “Goodnight, buddy. I’ll be right here if you need me.” Colt stood and stared at Dylan, “You too.”

“Not tired.”

Colt tilted his head. He didn’t care. “You need your rest. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

Dylan huffed. “Fine.” He moved to the oversized reclining chair and leaned back. Colt lifted a blanket and moved toward him, but Dylan ripped it from his hands and said, “I can do it myself.”

Colt lingered nearby, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to antagonize Dylan anymore, not on that night. Colt sat and stared into the fire. Hypnotized by the orange glow, he thought about their future. But he didn’t stay on the future long. Rather, his mind shifted to the past. Visions of Anna danced inside his head. Visions from their life together. Starting with the first time they met. At a wedding. He was the best man and she was a bridesmaid. Cliché, but they’d made it work for more than fifteen years. Then thoughts of their honeymoon crept in. Sweet it was. They’d vacationed to the Caribbean. Turks and Caicos. He remembered the crystal-clear water, aqua blue and warm to the touch, much like the fire on his face. He smiled just thinking of her. Soon that smile faded like the passing storms they endured on many nights in the tropics when emotion came. A single tear. More waited on delay. He rose from his seated position and turned around. With both his sons presumably awake, he excused himself so neither could hear him break down. He had to be strong for everyone now.

But this was different. Anna was gone, gone forever. She was a piece of him, a piece he could never get back. When he reached Walter’s bedroom, he shut the door, entered the closet, knelt on the carpeted floor, and wept.

54

Slicing rays of sun lit up the floor and shined through the curtains on the southern side of the home. Colt rolled over on the hardwood floor and felt the aches in his body from a night of restless sleep on the hard surface. When he opened his eyes, he saw Dylan standing over him. Colt smiled, but Dylan didn’t smile back. His face showed only anger.

“How’d you sleep?” Colt made small talk.

“Terrible.”

Colt rose from his prone state.

“It’s freezing in here.” Dylan shook the cold away as he walked.

Colt looked to the fire. All the logs had burned down. “The power must’ve gone out overnight.” Colt moved to the side of the couch where a lamp sat on the end table. He turned the switch, but nothing. “Figures,” he said. The only warmth would be from the power of the sun, and it was unlikely they’d get an increase in temperature before they left Walter’s home. Colt stood and followed Dylan, passing Wesley, who remained asleep. He didn’t want to wake him. Not yet. “Did you find any bullets during your search last night?”

“Only a few, remember.” Dylan spun around and spoke under his breath. “He’s losing his mind.”

Colt let out a breath and gritted his teeth. “The old man’s gotta have a stash around here somewhere.” Once again, Colt moved into Walter’s closet. Although he’d spent a few moments of trauma in there last night, he didn’t check for ammunition.

“Where are you going?” Dylan asked.

“To find more bullets.”

Dylan followed his father to help him search. Each tossed stacks of clothes on the floor. Walter’s closet wasn’t large, and it didn’t take long for them to tear everything apart. Colt huffed after their search came up empty. “Damnit, Walter.” Then Colt moved out of the closet and nearer to the bed. Two end tables bordered the oversized mattress, but Colt shifted his focus from the end table and onto a black square stuffed in-between the pad and box spring. From the closet, Colt couldn’t make out what the square was until he moved closer. How did I miss that last night? Upon his first step, he discerned the square was a bedside gun holster. A black pistol was stuck inside. Colt lifted the weapon. A Ruger .380. Colt pushed the magazine release and slid the magazine out to find it full. Capacity was only six rounds with one in the chamber.

“This is perfect for Wesley.” Colt looked to Dylan.

“He can’t shoot. Couldn’t hit a target from four feet away,” Dylan said.

“And I hope he never has to, but this is for his protection. He needs to be able to handle it, and we must make sure he is safe when doing so. Got it?” He looked to his son for confirmation.

Dylan rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Colt stuffed the .380 into his belt and yanked open the end table drawers. Another magazine was there, as well as a box of fifty extra cartridges. “Check that one.” Colt nodded to the opposite table. He lifted the box and extra magazine and shoved them into his pockets. “Anything?” He heard Dylan pull the drawer open.

Dylan shuffled some papers around. “Nothing. Just some fishing magazines.”

But Colt was unable to respond to Dylan, because a loud scream filled the small home. “Dad!” Wesley was in trouble.

Colt and Dylan sprinted out of the room and toward the call. In panic, Colt reached for Wesley who stood near the side of the couch and shook him. Wesley kept his focus forward, beyond Colt and over his shoulder. “What is it? Wesley what’s wrong?” Wesley didn’t speak, instead, he pointed to the window, a window that ran along the west side of the home.

To their surprise, a man stood there, someone Colt didn’t recognize. He was leering inside with his hands on the glass, no doubt looking for a place to loot or plunder. Colt rose from the couch and shielded his sons. He waited for the man to act. Colt felt the presence of the .380 pushing against his hip, but that weapon was almost useless in this scenario. The man would need to come nearer if Colt wanted to put him down for good. But deep down, Colt couldn’t know his intentions. Maybe he was a friend. Someone they could trust. Then the question probed Colt’s mind. Why was he alive? Aside from his sons and Jake, this was the first person they’d encountered who wasn’t infected with . . . with, whatever it was.

The man lifted his chin and grinned, then disappeared and continued his path toward the side of the house, near the sliding glass doors.

“Dad, the lions,” Dylan said, as if he wanted to warn the outsider.

“Dylan. I know.” Colt, however, wanted to wait and see.

Footsteps groaned as the man walked over the aging wooden deck. Any minute now. Colt expected to a hear a roar, maybe the fearful scream of a frightened man. But they didn’t hear any of that. Instead, it was the tapping of three knuckles on the sliding glass door.

Colt gulped and took a step.

“Dad, no!” Dylan advised.

As he turned around, Colt said, “We can’t leave him out there alone.” Colt reached for the pole at the end of blinds and twisted. The blinds turned perpendicular to the window and revealed the man standing there, staring back at Colt. Colt slid the blinds across on the track and said, “What do you want?”

The sound was muffled behind the glass, but Colt could hear. “Shelter. Food. Water. I’ll take anything right now.”

Colt checked him out, wondering if his intentions were honorable. The man stood tall. He was lankier than Colt, and probably had him by an inch or two. His face was weathered, pot-marked even. He might have been pushing forty.

“Who are you?”

“Name’s Rod.”

“Where’d you come from, Rod?”

He turned around, back toward the mountains and said, “Breckenridge.”

“And why’d you think to stop here? Why not continue on to Denver?”

Rod paused, leaning on the glass. “Because, I wanted to stop here to see if my uncle was okay.”

“Your uncle?”

“Yeah, Walter Gantry is my uncle. Or at least, was my uncle.”

Colt turned to his boys, realizing it was possible this man was out for blood.

“Relax, I ain’t gonna hurt you. I assume you had no choice after he turned into one of those—those things. I just want to have a look around, grab some essentials, and be on my way.”

Again, Colt eyed the man that stood in front of him. He reached for the lock, but a voice of reason chimed in: his son’s voice. “Dad, don’t.”

Colt faced them again. “I have to. This is Walter’s kin. I can’t keep him out there. For all we know this is his property now.”

Before Colt’s finger reached the latch, he asked, “Are you armed?”

Rod lifted his shirt and showed off a nickel-plated Smith and Wesson stuffed into his belt.

“Leave it outside,” Colt demanded.

“Excuse me?” Rod turned defensive.

“Look, it’s not like I think you’re going to use it, but I’ve got two boys in here, and I can’t take any chances.”

Rod lifted the gun from his belt, showed it Colt, then moved toward the railing to rest it on the handrail. “Happy, now?” Rod moved forward with his hands raised.

Satisfied, Colt lifted the latch and slid the door open.

Rod walked in. “Thank you,” he said.

Colt nodded and studied his back as he made his way into the living room.

“Boys.” Rod nodded and looked around. “Did the old man have anything to eat?” He turned to face Colt.

“Not much, I’m afraid. We had pasta last night, but that’s about all he has, aside from a few frozen hamburger patties and hot dogs in the freezer.”

“How about the fridge?” Rod moved toward it, but Colt sprinted to cut off his path.

“No! Nothing!” He stood tall and puffed his chest outward.

Rod considered Colt. “What are you hiding in there?”

Colt turned half of his torso. “Nothing.”

“Nothing, huh?” Rod curled his lower lip. “Let’s just have a look then, shall we?” Rod reached for the handle, but Colt swatted it away.

“I can’t let you do that.”

“Sorry?” Rod’s body language turned defensive. “Did you hear me when I said this is my uncle’s house?”

“So, you say,” Colt said. “We have no proof of that.”

“And you made damn sure of that didn’t you.” Rod sneered and jammed his finger into Colt’s chest.

Colt looked down. Without a doubt, Colt knew he could handle Rod. But how violent did he want to be in front of his boys? How far would he have to take that violence? In the current state of the world, it would probably be to the end. Fighting, and perhaps, killing, this man would prove nothing. Only that he was stronger, not sympathetic. In that moment, that teachable moment, even then, Colt thought of his boys and moved aside.

“Smart man,” Rod said and reached for the handle.

Colt stood nearby. Out of instinct, he expected to feel the rush of cool air, but there was none.

“He really has nothing in here,” Rod said. “Wait, what’s this?” Rod lifted the Beritrix from the shelf.

“That’s our business.” Colt snatched them away.

Rod raised his shoulders and comprehended. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

“What’s it?” Colt played coy. He wasn’t about to reveal a secret Jake had told him.

“The Beritrix. I take it too. That’s why . . .” Rod stalled, then looked to the boys, then back toward Colt.

Colt stepped away from the fridge to join his boys in the living room to cut off an advance if Rod decided the Beritrix was worth killing over. Rod followed Colt with his eyes before slamming the refrigerator door shut. “You know what?” Rod stepped toward them and scratched his head, playing for a moment of misdirection to reach behind him and lift another weapon—a small revolver—a .38 special—which he pointed directly at Colt. “On second thought, I might have to hurt you.”

55

“Please. Please. No. You can’t.” Colt stretched one arm out, with the other wrapped around the boys.

“I can, and I will, if you don’t hand over that Beritrix.” He thumbed the hammer back on his revolver.

“Fine. Here. Take them.” He set vials on the floor.

“And the gun.” Rod lifted his revolver up, instructing Colt to dump the newly acquired .380.

Colt lifted the gun and laid it next to the Beritrix.

“Dad, no!” Dylan said.

“Dylan, enough!” Colt chastised Dylan as Wesley leaned into his side.

“Please.” Colt gestured to the contents on the floor. “Take what you need and go.”

Rod glanced at the countertop where Colt’s rifle rested. He grabbed the Browning in his opposite hand, then walked in front of Colt while keeping the barrel of his .38 pointed at his chest. Rod moved close, stepping over the Beritrix and the .380. “I should kill you and take the boys for what you did to my uncle. Never know what they could fetch me on the open market. A trade for slavery. For food or water.” He peered around Colt and eyed the boys.

Rage boiled inside Colt as his heartrate climbed and stomach tightened. There was a fight coming if Rod made any attempt toward his sons. Colt balled his fists and gnashed his teeth. Then he thought, Screw the step. Rod had crossed the line preying on Dylan and Wesley and their psyche. A huge mistake. One Colt was unwilling to let go.

Rod shifted his eye from the boys and refocused on Colt. When he did, Colt did something Rod didn’t expect. The barrel of the .38 was less than an arm’s length away. Colt reached out and grabbed the nose of the revolver, redirecting the weapon to the right and away from his chest. In the same motion, Colt stepped forward and led with a punch to Rod’s chin, sending him off balance and onto his heels. Stunned by the blow, he dropped the rifle to the floor, and Colt ripped the revolver from his hands, then pointed the pistol back at him.

Rod shook his head from side to side. When his eyes refocused, they were bulging, and he shot his hands up immediately, then stuttered. “I’m . . . I’m sorry.”

“Damn right, you’re sorry,” Dylan said, before his father could say anything.

Colt didn’t reprimand his son for his words. They were precise and drove the point home.

“Turn around. Walk out that door right now. Forget you ever saw us. Because, if I even sense you following us once we leave, or I ever see you again, I won’t hesitate to bury you in this mountain.”

Rod swallowed hard and took slow steps toward the door. Then Colt thought about the weapon that Rod left on the handrail of the deck. “On second thought, wait,” Colt said. “Dylan, go outside and grab his gun from the deck.” Dylan stepped around his father. “Watch your step out there.” Colt nodded to the blood splatters that still stained the deck.

Once Dylan walked beyond Rod, “You can’t. Please,” he begged. “What will I protect myself with?”

“Should’ve thought about that before you threatened my family, you son of a bitch.”

Dylan returned with the Smith and Wesson in tow and handed the gun to his father.

Rod waited for permission to leave, but Colt didn’t continue. Inside the silence, Rod spun and sprinted into the day without further delay.

Upon Rod’s disappearance, Colt finally let out the breath he’d held in. He bent down to Wesley, who had broken into tears as Rod disappeared. “It’s okay buddy, here.” Colt guided Wesley to the couch. “Dylan, you sit down too. I need to talk to you boys.” He nodded to the spot next to Wesley. Both sat and peered up at their father—Wesley through glassy tears, and Dylan through a scowl. Colt lowered his head momentarily to gather his thoughts. “Look. I’m not going to sugarcoat. Life as we knew it is likely over.” Wesley looked confused, but Dylan knew precisely what his father was talking about. “That man.” Colt turned and gestured over his shoulder. “He won’t be the last to try to break up our family. There will be others. Some more violent. They’ll be more intent on hurting us once they know we have medicine.”

“What do you mean?” Dylan asked.

“Uncle Jake said the Beritrix is the reason we aren’t like the rest of these monsters.”

“You mean that’s why Mom . . .” Dylan trailed off.

Colt nodded subtly, then choked back emotion before speaking again. “We need to protect what we have collected here and stick together. Look out for each other always. Do you know what that means, buddy?” Colt looked at Wesley.

His head was down, but then he raised it and looked up through puppy dog eyes and said, “I think so.”

“Good! I need you to be strong and brave for me, for all of us.” Colt shifted his attention to Dylan. “Go grab the ice from the freezer and fill the cooler, please. We need to get on the road soon.”

Dylan bounced from the couch and moved toward the fridge. Colt rose to his feet and held out his hand for Wesley to grab. “Can you help your brother?” Wesley followed on Dylan’s heels.

With their minds busy for the moment, Colt walked outside. He checked both directions before exiting, making sure there was no sign of the lions, and stepped toward the railing. With the sun’s powerful rays raising from behind as he looked to the mountains in the west, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the faith that had left him recently. And with the current situation, how could he not be concerned about his and his sons’ salvation?

Colt had always had faith but hadn’t said a prayer in years. He’d gone through life thinking he didn’t need it. He was stable on his own. Nothing could shake him. But in that moment, he needed to start a conversation in his mind. He closed his eyes and began. Protect us . . . them. Still he thought of his boys. Don’t allow them pain, suffering. If they die, make it a quick death. Something they won’t feel. Don’t turn them into these monsters. If it comes to it, take me, take me instead of them. Then his tone turned angry. Why? Why did you do this? Why did you take Anna? She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve to become one of . . . them. He pounded his fist onto the railing just as Dylan exited the house.

“Dad?” Dylan said.

Colt opened his eyes, wiped the tear from his eye, and turned to face his son.

“I put all the ice into the cooler.”

“Good. Let’s grab the rest of the supplies and head out.”

Dylan paused, maybe wondering if he’d caught his father in a moment of weakness. He’d never seen his father shed a tear, not ever. “You alright?”

Without hesitation, Colt said, “No, son. I’m not alright. I may never be again. But that doesn’t mean I won’t go on. For you, and for your brother. We will see this through. We owe that much to your mom.”

After loading the truck, Colt waited for both of his sons to enter before shutting the passenger side door. As he strode around the hood of the truck, their family residence caught his eye in the distance.

It was time to put their comfortable life behind him. Time to get to Colorado Springs and to safety. Mostly though, it was time to say goodbye to Anna.

He leaned on his open door and grinned. “Goodbye, babe. I’ll see you sometime.”

He could only hope.

56

Steering the truck down the driveway proved to be more dramatic than the climb. In the shadows of the hill, a fresh frost remained on the crushed rock, making the descent slippery. Walter’s truck was just ahead, and Colt would have to navigate around him once again. Coming near his bumper, Colt slowed to a crawl. He turned the wheel to the left and swerved off the main drive.

Once the driver’s side tire hit the incline, the front end of the truck rose above the earth. Colt continued his path up the side-hill until the passenger side tire met the incline as well, lifting the front-end up. Colt straightened the wheel until the truck was parallel with Walter’s.

Without Colt’s knowledge, both of his sons peered over at the blood-splattered interior of Walter’s cab. When Colt noticed Wesley staring, he yelled, “Wesley, no!” and forced his hand over Wesley’s eyes to blind him. In doing so, he lifted his foot from the gas pedal. The truck rolled to a stop. “Don’t look at him.” Wesley faced his father, and sadness lingered. “It’s not worth it.” He fell against Colt’s chest. Colt rested his chin on Wesley’s head and caught eyes with Dylan.

“Do you think there will be more like him?”

Without saying anything, Colt nodded, then pushed Wesley away and looked down at him. “But it’s okay. I’m here to protect you, to protect both of you.”

Wesley gathered himself and sat tall against his seat just as Colt readjusted his foot and pushed down on the gas pedal. But the truck didn’t move. The rear tires spun, doing their best to grip the slick mud on the side of the hill. Colt turned over his shoulder, wondering why the tires wouldn’t grab. He glanced to the floor of the cab, at the four-wheel-drive gear shift, but then remembered it was broken. It was summer, and he’d figured he’d have time to fix it and continued to put it off.

Pushing on the pedal harder, the rear tires spun, fishtailing the backend toward the cab of Walter’s truck. “Damnit.” Colt lifted his foot from the gas pedal and thrust the lever into park. He propped the door open and dropped outside. Keeping his balance on the side hill, Colt pushed his feet into the soil, and leaned onto the cab, guiding himself along until he reached the tailgate.

The rear driver’s side tire dug itself into the dirt. He looked to the open bed to see only his axe. In need of a shovel, Colt was forced with a decision: head back to Walter’s house and search for a shovel, use his hands to dig out, or push from behind the tailgate while Dylan did his best to steer them out.

Dylan had grown up driving multiple vehicles—mostly the family’s four-wheeler—but Colt had let him plow their driveway once last winter with the truck. He’d done a fair job, only going off the driveway twice. He had confidence in his son and his abilities. If only Colt could get momentum and rock the truck free. “Dylan, get in the driver’s seat,” Colt yelled.

“What?” Dylan turned around and yelled back.

“I need you to drive us out. I’m gonna push from back here.”

Colt saw Dylan climb over Wesley and mount himself into the driver’s seat. He stared at his father in the side mirror.

“Okay, open the door. Leave it open and I’ll walk you through it.”

Dylan nodded.

“Take the truck out of park and shift into drive. Remember to touch the brake to release the gears.”

The red brake lights lit up Colt’s eyes, and he could feel the transition between gears.

“Alright, that’s good, bud. Now push down on the gas, but only slightly.”

The rear tires spun. Colt saw why they wouldn’t grip. They were stuck in the mud of the hill. He made his stance wide and leaned into the tailgate and shoved, but it wouldn’t budge.

“More gas!” Colt yelled.

The tires spun harder and the truck rocked forward. Colt dug in, and leaned, letting out a scream, pushing out the breath he held in as he struggled with all his might. The rear passenger tire neared the gravel of the driveway, which was good for grip, but the back end was swinging dangerously close to Walter’s truck.

Rocks, dirt, and other debris flew from the tires as Colt gave the truck another shove, and this time the rear passenger tire gripped the rock and lurched the truck forward and released the truck from the hold. A smile formed on Colt’s face, but it was short-lived when he realized Dylan was on a side-hill lie with little experience on how to correct himself.

As the truck proceeded, Colt ran and screamed, “Hit the brakes!” Just as Colt touched the tailgate, Dylan pushed the brakes down and stopped the truck completely. He laughed out loud, proud of his son’s accomplishment. He looked up to see Dylan in the rearview. “Put it back into park.” Colt was still laughing as he made his way around the rear and walked back toward the open driver’s side door. But before he could enter, an unmistakable roar echoed around the area.

Colt shot his attention upward to see a mountain lion standing above him on the hill. Before he could hop into the truck and drive away, the lion leaped from his position and landed right in front of him cutting off his path. He couldn’t reach the door to close it, so he yelled to his son, “Dylan! Shut the door!” Without thinking, he did, then whipped his head around to see his father.

Colt backed off, relocating the animal and making sure his sons were out of danger. His footing was suspect at best as the truck remained stacked against the incline. The animal followed his path, toying with him. Colt moved his hand along the top of the bedrail, and out of the corner of his eye, noticed his axe. Lying there. With the remainder of the weapons inside the cab, this was his only means of protection.

The lion growled and licked its lips as he closed in on Colt, who walked around the back end now, parallel to the tailgate. There was no time to lose. He reached up and unlatched the tailgate. In one fluid motion, he set it down and jumped.

Surprised by his move, the lion flinched and watched as Colt flew. Colt retrieved his axe from the bed and turned just as the lion followed with a leaping attack. With one swipe of the axe, Colt caught the lion across the face with the blade. The blow didn’t kill the beast, only injured it. Colt didn’t hesitate. He pulled the blade free and then brought it down again, this time breaking through the skull and putting the lion down for good.

Colt fell to the metal exhausted. Even though it had been a short battle, he still felt beaten down. As he sucked in breath, trying to refill his lungs and calm his heart, the last lion showed itself. From an elevated position, Colt watched as falling rock accompanied the lion as he walked down the side of the hill. He stared directly at Colt and eyed him for a meal.

Colt reached for the axe that remained stuck inside the other lion’s skull. He jarred the handle from side to side, twisted it, did everything he could to release its hold, but it wouldn’t budge. The lion was only a step away before it would be in range to coil on its hind legs and leap into the bed for retribution.

With no way of protecting himself, Colt was prepared to give his own life to protect his sons. “Dylan!” Colt yelled. They could hear him through the glass. “Drive! Go now! Get away from here!”

But there was no response.

“Did you hear me?” At that, the lion leaped onto the tailgate. “Go now!” Colt peered over his shoulder to see if his sons heard his plea, but instead all he heard was the sound of a gunshot being blown by his ear and directly at the lion who prepared to attack.

The shot stunned the animal. It came from a smaller caliber bullet, not enough to stop him, but then another shot came. Colt laid his body against cab, away from the loud burst and the angle of attack. Then another shot, until finally the beast fell from the tailgate.

Dylan shifted into drive and drove away from the property, leaving the animal to limp away. Colt watched until the beast finally laid down. He tapped on the window to alert Dylan to stop. Colt walked off the end of the tailgate and stared at the animal in the distance. The lion’s chest rose and fell. He waited there until its final breath, then turned and entered the truck, driving away for good.

57

The click of the blinker resounded inside the cab of the truck as Colt stared ahead at Highway 285 that crossed in front of their truck. They could either turn right and head back north toward Denver or turn left and make their way toward Colorado Springs. Dylan wondered why his father lingered in the silence after Jake made their path clear, at least that’s what Colt said back at Walter’s house.

“Dad, what are we doing?” Dylan asked.

Colt shook away from his thoughts, then glanced to his son.

“I was waiting to see if there were any passing cars.”

Two minutes had passed since they’d stopped, and with Highway 285 being a busy highway that led deep into the Rocky Mountains, it seemed peculiar that no other vehicle had driven by as they waited to turn.

Dylan whipped his head to the right, then all three Maddox men looked left. No movement.

“Huh,” Colt said. But what had he expected?

He spun the wheel left and sped south. It wasn’t until they reached the outskirts of Fairplay that they came upon the first of many abandoned vehicles. From a mile off, as they descended from an elevated decline, they could see cars stopped in the middle of the highway. Colt slowed as he approached the first sedan. It was not an older sedan, either—one you wouldn’t figure to see broken down.

The car was stalled in his lane, and as they passed, all three looked inside. It was empty. Why would someone abandon their vehicle in the middle of the highway? Colt returned his attention out the windshield and approached another vehicle, one facing him. He swerved back into his own lane, and as they passed, again all watched, and again the vehicle was empty.

Ahead was a jackknifed eighteen-wheeler that blocked visibility of the city they were approaching, and the only way around was to drive on the shoulder. Colt proceeded slowly and stared into the back end of the semi. The hatch was wide open, and it was dark inside. A knot formed in his belly as he held onto Wesley. Anyone could’ve easily hunkered down for safety or made in a new home in this empty trailer.

“Dad, what do you think that thing was hauling?” Dylan asked.

“No idea.” Colt said, but as they moved beyond the backend and drove onto the gravel of the shoulder, Dylan’s question was answered. Pictures of produce—apples, oranges, bananas, cucumbers, peppers and onions—were displayed on the side. At the sight of the food, Colt touched the brake and slowed to a stop.

“What are you doing?” Dylan said.

Colt threw the truck into park, knowing the value of what could’ve awaited them. With the lack of food available to them and unsure of how long it would take them to make it to Colorado Springs, Colt needed to stockpile as much food as he could find. “That’s a grocery truck. Did you see any contents toward the front of the trailer as we drove by?”

“No, why?”

“Because if there is food in there, we’re going to take it.”

“Won’t that be stealing, Daddy?” Wesley’s innocence shone through.

He grinned at his son. “No, son. Not this time.” Colt stepped outside, then reached into the backseat and lifted his Browning. “I’ll be right back. Be on alert. If you see anything suspicious, honk the horn.”

Colt opened the chamber of the rifle, making sure a round was loaded. He hunched over as he walked, keeping his ears perked at the presence of an unwanted sound. He glanced left as he crossed the backend of the semi, back toward the first abandoned car. He hadn’t noticed it as they passed, but it was glaring now as he looked on. The sedan had a crumpled front end. From the looks of it, the accident didn’t appear fresh, maybe one from a different time, perhaps that was the reason for the abandonment and not the current state of things.

Casting the thought aside, Colt peered into the hollow cavity.

“Damnit,” Colt said at first, but then something in the back corner caught his eye.

He moved forward, squinting, doing his best to see, but couldn’t make out the contents. He needed to step inside, but before he jumped on board, he checked on his sons. Each boy caught the eye of their father. They were fine. Colt smiled, then disappeared from their sight, pulling himself into the trailer.

The fifty three foot walk felt like an eternity. With each step, he couldn’t help but think about his sons and that he no longer had a visual on them. He started into a jog and once he got ten feet into the trailer, he could make out a stack of apples pushed against the wall.

He pulled the bottom of his shirt out and piled the fruit on top, the cotton acting as a cradle. His left hand held onto the apples, and his right gripped his rifle. Once he turned around, he waddled toward the opening, making sure none of the fruit fell to the floor and bruised.

His smile widened. These five apples could last them a day, maybe two if they needed.

But that smile disappeared as quickly as it came at the sight of an infected man.

In his own shock, Colt released the bottom of his shirt and let the apples fall. The infected man was in the distance, behind the stalled vehicle. He hadn’t seen Colt, not yet. It wasn’t until the first piece of fruit hit the wood and metal on the floor of the trailer, that the infected man shifted his deadpan gaze and caught a glimpse of Colt.

With the apples rolling on the floor, Colt lifted the stock of his Browning and peered through his sights. But the infected man didn’t wait there, instead, in a straight sprint, he ran for Colt. Once again, it was decision making time. With no idea what was happening with his boys, Colt considered leaping from the trailer and retreating for the truck, but that would just lead the infected to his sons. Knowing the risk, and the improbability of making it back to the truck, Colt stayed put, dropped to a knee, and guided the barrel of his rifle to the moving target. He sucked in, then slowly let his breath out while he followed the running man.

The first shot swirled through the air, narrowly missing the mark. Colt loaded another round, knowing this next shot would be the deal maker, or breaker. If he missed, it was unlikely he’d get another opportunity as the runner approached. He was fast, faster than Colt had anticipated with the first shot. He hadn’t led him enough.

With his finger hugging the trigger, time slowed. It had to, because if his focus slipped, even for a second, he, and his sons, were dead. Colt fired another shot. A perfect shot—one marked for death. The bullet cut down the infected man in the middle of the street, fifteen feet from the edge of the open container.

Colt looked up from the end of his rifle and found his mind beginning to wander. What’s the point? What are these things trying to accomplish? Is it only death they crave? He didn’t hesitate to run. It’s like . . . it’s as if . . . as if, something was controlling him.

Colt didn’t know why those thoughts crept in. But before the infected man’s advance, he was stopped there. In the grassland, he wasn’t nomadic, wandering aimlessly without direction. His mission was calculated. Once he’d locked onto his target, he’d attacked, and nothing, no outside force was going to stop him from completing his mission.

Only the honking of the truck’s horn could shake Colt from his thoughts. Colt leaped from the trailer and sped for his sons. It was when he rounded the corner that he realized why Dylan was laying on the horn with such urgency.

As he ran, his eyes widened. Beyond the hood of the truck, no more than fifty yards off, hundreds more infected were barreling down on their position.

Colt reached the back door and ripped it open, tossing in his rifle without looking. Just as he jumped into the driver’s seat and shut the door, the first infected contacted the front end of his truck, slamming into the hood without care for the consequences to his body.

Another infected man followed suit, but this time, he leaped over the first, and was flying toward the windshield just as Colt yanked the shift lever into reverse. The tires struggled to grab on the rocky shoulder, and as they did so the soaring man landed hard on the hood and led with the crown of his head as he head-butted the windshield. A spiderweb crack broke across the glass. As the tires spun, and two more infected worked their way around the driver’s and passenger side windows, Colt yelled, “Dylan! Scoot toward your brother!” It wouldn’t take more than one or two hits to the windows before the infected broke through. Colt had witnessed first-hand with Walter how easy it was for them to break glass.

Squishing into his brother, Dylan pushed Wesley into their father. In his movement, Colt jarred the wheel to the right. The tires grabbed, and the truck pulled itself away from the approaching enemy, but didn’t lose the man from the hood.

As multitudes of other infected gave chase, Colt drove in reverse. He couldn’t continue on that path long in fear of getting the truck caught up on another rock, much like he had in Walter’s driveway. When Colt felt far enough away from the lurking danger of the running army of infected, he waited for the infected man on the hood to rear up again, and when he did, Colt touched the brakes to bring him in closer, moving him off balance—preventing him from making a powerful strike.

With the lopsided infected off-balance, Colt shifted into drive, but waited to accelerate. Dylan lifted the Glock from his lap and aimed it at the man. Colt was quick to say, “No! If you miss, the windshield will be useless, and he’ll tear us apart in seconds.” Colt watched the man lift his arms high. When he did, Colt spun the wheel left, and floored the gas, sending him rolling off the hood.

When they reached the shoulder of Highway 285, Colt looked behind him. The others were still giving chase as they were blasted with dust and rock. But once he got far enough away, he stared in his rearview mirror. They continued running until something peculiar happened. Just as Colt and the boys ascended the hill, every one of the infected stopped running in unison.

It was as if the infected knew they’d been defeated.

58

Traveling back north on Highway 285, Colt leaned on his hand, and pulled at his hairline. His heart rate rose, and he couldn’t calm his breathing. What are those things? What is this? How can I make them stop? He’d never experienced a panic attack before, but he found himself sucking in air, trying to find relief, but there was none to be had.

In between blinks, his eyes glazed over, and he could no longer see straight. Rocking in the driver’s seat, he couldn’t get comfortable and started to pull over. But should he? That would put them in immediate danger.

Colt stopped driving in the middle of the road, leaped out of the driver’s seat, bent over at the waist and vomited. With little food in his belly, the vomit didn’t last long, but bile came next—the disgusting taste of stomach lining.

What’s happening? he thought, calming himself. Then he held his breath at the sound of a snapping branch that brought him upright. He retreated to the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and drove on as if nothing happened.

“Uh, you want to tell me what that was about?” Dylan said.

Colt didn’t want to lie, but he had to. He couldn’t have Dylan or Wesley knowing he was so nervous, so helpless he couldn’t contain his bodily functions.

“Must have been something we ate.”

Colt caught eyes with his sons. Neither bought his line.

“But I’m better now.” He smiled and ruffled Wesley’s hair.

“You sure?” Dylan asked.

Truth was, Colt did feel better. Throwing up had seemed to calm him back down. “I am.”

Dylan shifted his attention outward and asked his Dad, “Are we going back to Denver?”

“No. Taking a different track. It’s longer by time, but only a little. Besides, I say the more we can avoid busier, more populated areas, the better.”

“And what do you call Colorado Springs?” Dylan asked.

Colt paused a moment before he spoke again. It was true, Colorado Springs was more densely populated than Fairplay. And they were sure to run into multiple more infected if they stayed on that path, but they didn’t have a lot of options. Sooner or later, they would need to make a play, a move for survival. “Our way to safety. And a way to see Uncle Jake.”

“If you say so,” Dylan said when they passed the entrance of their ranch.

As they turned right onto a country road, Colt glanced down to his gas gauge. The needle had dipped below a quarter tank. Usually when that happened, the fuel capacity of the truck was around 100 miles until he needed to refill. With Colorado Springs being almost exactly 100 miles away, there was risk of running out.

As they travelled down the dirt road, the truck kicked up dust. The road was bumpy, and the loose gravel kicked the back end out every time they hit a pothole. Colt could only maintain a speed of twenty miles per hour. With over twenty miles to reach US 24—the main road that travelled east to Colorado Springs—Colt suggested they play a game where they might find normalcy.

“You guys want to play I Spy?” Colt said.

“Dad. No!” Dylan was adamant.

Wesley remained quiet but peered up from the middle seat. “C’mon, little man, what do you say?” he said as he nudged him.

Wesley grinned.

“Alright, I’ll start,” Colt said. “I spy, something . . . green.”

Wesley looked through the windshield. “Um, that house.” Wesley pointed out the driver’s side window.

“Nope.”

“Um . . . that sign over there.”

The sign listed the name of the county road.

“Nope. Try again.”

“How about that car down there?” Wesley asked, then pointed to a broken-down old pick-up in the middle of an open field.

“No.”

“Argh.” Wesley’s shoulders slumped. “Gimme a hint.”

Colt smiled and said, “No way, Jose.” He was never one to let his sons take the easy way.

“Ah, Dad! There.” Dylan pointed out the side of his window. “Up ahead.”

“Hey, no fair, you didn’t want to play,” Wesley interrupted.

But Dylan wasn’t playing. Instead, he was alerting them of an approaching threat.

Colt dipped his head low, vying for an angle, but his eyeline was cut off. “What is it? I can’t see.”

“It looks like another one of those . . . those things.”

“Just one?” Colt knew they could outrun one easily enough.

“Yeah, it looks like it. Can’t tell though. He’s standing on the ridge.”

“Okay, just keep your eyes peeled and let me know if he starts to run after us.”

Dylan didn’t answer, just stared at the infected as they passed by. Peculiar thing was, though, the thing didn’t move a muscle, only its eyes.

“I think we better put our game on hold, little man.” Colt paused momentarily. “On second thought, let’s not. Instead of spying random things, why don’t you help your brother keep look out. Would you be okay to climb in the back seat, and look out the back window for us?”

Wesley turned over his shoulder. “I . . . I don’t think I can. I’m scared.”

“I know you are, little man. And it’s okay to be scared. It’s your body’s way of warning you when it feels threatened. But right now, in here, nothing can hurt you, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Besides, I’m here to protect you.”

He stared to the floor, then reluctantly said, “Okay.”

Colt watched as his youngest son climbed over the bench seat and into the back. “Still there?” Colt asked Dylan.

Dylan had his head turned around, watching as they drove on. “He is.”

“What’s he doing?”

“He’s not moving, just staring. Like he’s . . . he’s—”

“—scouting,” Colt interrupted his sons’ thoughts.

At that, Dylan recaptured his father’s gaze. “What do you mean?”

Colt sighed, again trying to keep things from his sons, trying to protect them. But after all they’d endured today alone, he realized keeping things locked inside wasn’t helping anyone, not if they wanted to survive.

“I had the same thought you did when I shot that infected man who ran at me while I was in the semi-trailer. What he was doing wasn’t random. He was scouting, perhaps hunting for his next kill.”

“So, what, you think these things are connected somehow? Hunting in packs? Like animals?”

“Maybe. Hard to say.”

“So, what you’re saying is, where there’s one, there’s more?” Dylan asked.

“If I had to guess . . .” He stared at his son, not meaning to keep him waiting. “Yes.”

Now it was Dylan who sighed and turned his attention back out the windshield, then said, “Well that makes this thing a whole hell of a lot scarier.”

Colt nodded and said, “Tell me about it.”

59

Cheyenne Mountain Complex

The vice president stood in the center of a control room deep inside the mountain. He was surrounded by multiple men dressed in blue. Each man waited upon his order. He’d summoned them for a special mission.

“Look, men, I’m gonna give it to you straight. That’s the way I would want it if I were you. This order comes from the top, down from the president himself.” The vice president started to walk in a circle around the men, getting a look at each of them. He loved looking each man in the eye. “There’s a family, we believe a man and his two sons. The president tells me they are an integral part of this operation. Now that we’ve lost communication with the president, at least for the time being, we need to assume nothing’s changed since the last time we spoke. When we did, he mentioned this family was mission critical. He advised me to send out a search party for them today.” The vice president paused there to think.

“Mr. Vice President,” Colonel Jenkins interrupted his thoughts.

“Yes, Colonel.”

“Let me be the first to volunteer.”

“Thank you, Colonel.”

“Do you have any intelligence on their whereabouts?” Colonel Jenkins asked.

The vice president said, “I’m afraid we do not. Only that they were supposed to arrive by tomorrow. If they don’t show up by then, the president has ordered us to evacuate and head to Mount Weather.”

“Understood.”

“Would you be able to assemble a team of let’s say, maybe two or three men?” The vice president asked.

Colonel Jenkins nodded, then said, “With me, my men, the pilot, and the family, that would be about the payload of the chopper anyway, so I believe that should be sufficient. I have just the men in mind, sir.”

“Excellent. I’m sorry we don’t have more to offer. Others need to stay here and protect the house.”

“Understood, sir. I will assemble my best men.”

“Great! Take to the sky. You’re more likely to see something from far off.”

“I agree 100%.”

“Why don’t you get your team ready.” The vice president glanced down to his watch. “Be on the helipad in an hour?”

“Roger that, sir.”

* * *

After one hour, Colonel Jenkins and two other men stood at the entrance of the semi-circular opening, waiting for the gate to rise. When the sunlight peeked through the hole, Colonel Jenkins lifted his head to the sky, but closed his eyes beneath his Oakley sunglasses so he could feel the warmth of the sun on his face. He had to remind himself he was still human. Even though it had been less than a day since he’d felt that warmth, he still coveted that feeling, even now.

Each man was equipped as if they were heading out to war, decked out with tactical helmets, sunglasses, an abundance of water pouches, extra magazines, boots, and automatic rifles slung across their chests. Their hope would be to find the family unharmed and find them quickly. The longer this mission took, the more dangerous it would become, especially after nightfall.

The sound of churning rotors echoed against the mountainside. As Colonel Jenkins led his men in a jog toward the chopper, he peered outward. In the distance, there was a collection of infected stacked behind a twenty-foot chain link gate. He stopped running at once, as did his men. They, too, turned their attention toward the gate. There must have been hundreds of them. An army waiting, staring at the colonel and his men.

“Sir, should we engage?” said Brian Bald, a member of TACP an Air Force special forces unit.

“No. Stand down. Our mission is the family. If the infected are still there when we return, we’ll ask the vice president how he wants to handle them. For now, it looks as though they are at bay.”

“Copy that, sir,” Bald said.

The colonel ran forward. When he reached the chopper, he stood still by the door, and watched his men climb inside before giving one last glance to the legion of infected men and women who remained still.

Once inside the chopper, each man hoisted a headset over there ears so they could hear one another.

Shortly after takeoff Masterson asked, “Where to, Colonel?”

Colonel Jenkins continued staring at the infected. The line of people went on for almost 1,000 feet.

“Colonel! Sir!” Masterson urged from the cockpit.

Shaking himself from the reality of what waited below, he answered, “Take us north.”

“Do you have a destination in mind, sir?”

“Once we get north of the city, we’ll head west into the mountain range, but I don’t think we need to head far. Maybe twenty miles inland. When the heavy trees diminish, we’ll take our path back north. Cover as much land as possible. The vice president advised us the family should be close.”

“Yes, sir,” Masterson said, then rotated the nose and flew north.

As they flew, Colonel Jenkins spoke to another one of his men. “Hey, Drake.”

Chauncey Drake was another airman. His specialty was a pararescue-man. “Yes, sir.”

“This remind you at all of that op in Afghanistan?”

Drake smiled. Both had been in country during the rescue. “The one where we had to rescue those trapped Marines up on that bluff?”

Colonel Jenkins grinned. “That’s the one.”

Drake turned away and peered at the trees below, maybe gathering his thoughts. “That was a fun mission, sir, but rescuing fifteen trapped marines on the top of a mountain in Afghanistan when we knew their location is hardly the same as locating one family in the middle of the Rocky Mountains blind.” Drake grinned.

“So, you say,” Colonel Jenkins smiled back.

“Just being honest, sir.”

“Keep that honesty to yourself,” Colonel Jenkins chuckled.

Flying over the ridge of Cheyenne Mountain, Colonel Jenkins glanced toward the ground. From far off he saw a beautiful hotel and golf course. Instantly thoughts of his brother’s wedding rushed to the surface of his mind. As the best man, he’d arranged the bachelor party. A round of golf had been included in the wedding package. He recalled nearly holing out from the fairway on the first hole, as they played before the big day—a great start. But unfortunately, the round, and the next day had come with their own set of problems. He’d ended up shooting over 100, and the bride to be had left his brother at the altar.

Now, though, as he looked at the course, he saw random bodies running over the beautiful plush fairway, rushing toward something. When he followed their path with his eyes, he saw a collection of other infected surrounding a nearby tree.

Leaning forward in his seat, he figured there must be someone in that tree.

“What is it, sir?” Bald asked.

But the colonel didn’t answer. His eyes were fixated on that lone tree. Until it was uprooted. “Holy––,” Colonel Jenkins said. “Did you see that?” His face wore shock as he looked into the chopper for an answer.

“What happened, sir?” Bald asked.

The colonel returned his attention outside as he witnessed a person fall from the tree just as the group of infected pounced on him.

When he turned back into the chopper, he sought Drake’s eye and said. “You’re right, Drake, this is nothing like Afghanistan.”

60

South Park, Colorado

The county road stopped at a T-shaped intersection. After a quick glance to his right, knowing it was unlikely anyone would be driving their way, Colt spun the wheel to head east on US 24. Still, he wondered why more people weren’t doing the same. Why weren’t people driving toward a bigger city? Why hadn’t they seen more than one other person alive? Then he realized the types of people who lived in the mountains were self-sufficient. Maybe they thought it was smarter to stay in their homes than to make a run for it. Chances were, most would survive longer if they opted for that choice. But they would need a stockpile of Beritrix. Maybe, though, Colt thought, maybe there just aren’t many left.

To the south, Colt glanced for only a moment. Forgetting what was there, he recognized Spinney Mountain Reservoir. Just the sight of the water brought a smile to his face and nudged him out of the current state of mind he was in. He and his sons had frequented their favorite fishing spot often. He’d brought them ever since they could hold a rod in their hands.

Dylan caught sight of his father looking in his direction and said, “What?”

Colt smiled and said, “You remember that monster rainbow you pulled out of there last summer?” Colt nodded to the reservoir.

Dylan spun around and looked out his window. The reminder of the fish brought a smile to his face as well. He loved the sport too. “Sure do. Caught it on my fly rod. Stripping a streamer while you and Wesley were out on your float tubes.”

“Oh, trust me, I remember,” Colt said. They locked eyes and grinned. “You fell into the water trying to net that beast.”

Both chuckled at the sweet memory, but were soon shook back to reality when Wesley chimed in from the back seat. “Daddy.” He pointed through their line of sight. “What’s that?”

Colt shifted his attention back on the road to see a line of stopped cars. The line was heading in both directions. Colt approached the vehicles slowly, only stopping thirty yards from the rear bumper of the car in his lane and the front bumper of the car moving in the opposite lane.

“What the hell?” Colt said, then opened his door and stood tall on the running boards and over the roof of his truck.

The line stretched for miles. Blocking their path. Dylan mirrored his father’s movements. And as they stared at each other while standing over the roof, Dylan said. “How do we get around this?”

Colt racked his brain. There was one way, but it was a detour, and would add more miles to the trip. He glanced over his son’s head and looked south toward Spinney Mountain Reservoir. Without saying another word, he dipped into the truck. Dylan followed suit.

“Boys. Buckle up.” Colt shifted the truck into drive, then turned off the highway and drove into the dirt and high grass of the shoulder.

The truck bobbed over the uneven terrain, even at a slow speed. Colt did his best to keep his hands at ten and two, but the rocky earth jolted them on the wheel. About 4,000 feet of dirt and dry grass separated them and the first paved road that travelled south.

“Hey, buddy.” Colt looked to Wesley in the rearview. They caught eyes. “Keep an eye out for me, alright? Watch that long row of cars. If you see anything strange let me know, okay?”

Colt saw Wesley nod his head.

“Thanks, little man.”

With Wesley’s attention on the cars, Colt focused on the road ahead, and Dylan looked out his own window, scanning the southern horizon for approaching danger.

A smile grew on Colt’s face when he saw the blacktop of the county road no more than a few hundred feet off. “There.” Colt pointed.

“Uh, Dad, what’s that?” Dylan was still watching out his window.

Colt shifted his attention from his heading and ducked down, looking in the distance. An old Ford Bronco was driving fast, it almost seemed they were trying to cut off Colt’s path as he was about to make his entrance onto the paved surface.

“It’s people. I can see them.” Wesley’s voice raised hope inside of all of them, but his innocence was preemptive.

In the back of the 4x4, a woman stood above the roofline of the topless vehicle, waving her hands in a panic and shouting something none of them could hear.

“What’s she saying?” Dylan leaned forward out of instinct.

“No idea. Roll down your window.” Colt nodded toward the glass.

He did as instructed; still they couldn’t make out what she was saying.

“Slow down, I can’t hear anything.” Dylan eyed his father.

But Colt knew better, he couldn’t stop the truck’s momentum and risk them getting stuck.

“Can’t risk it. Not now,” Colt said.

“What do you mean?” Dylan said.

“I mean, I’m not going to stop. Don’t you remember Walter’s nephew?”

Dylan returned his attention back out the window. “What if they need our help?”

“I have no doubt they do. But . . . I’m not risking your life, or your brother’s.”

Once the front tires of the truck met the pavement, Colt spun the wheel to the right and sped south. The Bronco was closing in. Yet, the woman stood tall in the back seat, waving her arms furiously.

Colt saw her, but his attention was focused beyond the approaching vehicle. He couldn’t ignore that the Bronco was close now. The driver of the truck moved to the center of the lane, driving down the middle of the narrow road until he came to a stop twenty yards in front of Colt’s bumper.

“What’s he doing?” Dylan said.

“Looks like he’s trying to make us stop.”

“Are you going to, Daddy?” Wesley said.

“Not for anything, little man.”

Avoiding eye contact, Colt swerved at the last second, speeding over the shoulder, half off the road, and half on. The tires kicked up dirt and rock as Colt drove on. Amongst the debris, they could still hear the woman’s shrill cries as they passed.

Once around the 4x4, Colt maneuvered onto the pavement and immediately looked in his rearview, joining his son’s gaze, to see what the Bronco would do next. Of course, the driver whipped his vehicle around and made a U-turn. Colt pressed the gas pedal to the floor, but it seemed the driver was unfazed and looking to gain ground. Another fork in the road was approaching. Colt knew to turn left and head southeast, but as the intersection approached, he was too afraid to lay off the gas as the Bronco gained ground behind them.

“Uh, Dad.” Dylan grasped the dashboard, fearing the truck would flip if they continued their current heading at that speed.

“Hold on boys.” Colt laid off the gas just enough to make the left turn.

The tires screeched but held to the pavement as they twisted with the road. Colt knew their new path was a long stretch of open road, but could they outrun the Bronco? Colt glanced down to his gas gauge. The dial hovered just in front of the E.

We’re not gonna make it to Colorado Springs. In his gut, he knew. But couldn’t dwell on that now. If he didn’t shake the current threat behind them, it didn’t matter if he had a full tank of gas or not.

Their speed approached eighty as they passed the turnoff for the “Dream Stream”—a stretch of “Gold Metal” water they also loved to fish. Staring behind him again, the Bronco made up more ground. Even at the high speeds, the woman still stood in the back, waving her arms.

“What’s with these people?” Colt said.

“Daddy, they’re scaring me,” Wesley said.

Me too. But Colt couldn’t say that out loud. “I know, little man, I’m trying to shake them. I don’t know what they want us to stop for.”

As Colt continued his heading, they passed Elevenmile Canyon Reservoir. He knew the road curved up ahead, and they couldn’t continue at their current speed—not if he wanted to keep the truck from flipping.

He took a deep breath and let off the gas pedal, then glanced in his rearview. Shock lingered on his face when he saw the Bronco fade in the distance. “What the? Why’d they stop?” Colt said.

Dylan turned around, as did Wesley.

And just as Colt returned his attention back out the windshield, he slammed on the brakes. Each boy was forced forward into their seat belts as their heads whipped back around.

Colt’s arms went rigid on the wheel, and he said nothing as he stared forward.

“Uh, Dad,” Dylan said as dozens of infected stood in the street, leering at the truck. “I think maybe that’s why that lady was trying to get us to stop.”

61

It was the eyes. Jet black, precisely the same color as Anna and Walter’s. The shirtless infected man who stood closest to the truck turned to the side. From his position, Colt could see the same markings up his spine, much like Anna’s when she’d stood nude against the bathroom wall.

Colt was frozen with his hands on the wheel and didn’t dare breathe. Then the man rotated his body and squared the vehicle. Upon his movement, Colt let go of his breath.

“Dad? What do we do?” Dylan pushed himself flat against the seat.

“Wesley, get down. Lay on the floor,” Colt whispered out of the side of his mouth. “I don’t want you to see this.”

Taking his eye off the man standing in the road, Colt spanned his field of vision to the left and out the window. Two infected. Two women walked toward Colt’s door. They weren’t moving fast, just a casual stroll. They stared at him through soulless eyes, but something seemed off. As if they were studying him, sizing him up before they attacked.

With his foot tight against the brake, Colt lifted his pressure from the pedal, then slammed onto the gas. The rear tires spun for a moment, causing smoke to rise from the rubber. When the tires gripped after the third rotation, Colt aimed his bumper at the man standing in front of him.

At the thud of contact, the man let out a high-pitched screech. Colt expected him to fall back into the road, but instead, the man grabbed a hold of the hood and held on as Colt raced away.

Other infected sprinted after the them, but couldn’t reach the truck in time. The man on hood slammed his fist down, denting the metal. Again, Colt held his breath, and his eyes bulged. His focus remained on the man attached to his hood, and he didn’t notice the road weaving to the right.

Colt felt a drop in elevation as they drove off-road and onto the dry grass. That was when the infected man lost his grip and fell. Colt didn’t stop. Instead, he swerved back onto the main road, nearly colliding with a protruding boulder.

Another bank corner was coming up, turning east. Colt stared in his rearview expecting to see the infected man still chasing him down, but he was gone, vanished. Along with every single other infected that roamed the area. What the hell? Why? This went against all comprehension. Against everything he’d ever thought an invasion might be.

Then Dylan shouted and shook Colt back to reality. “Dad! Look! There’s more.”

Off to the right, more infected stood amongst the grass, scattered like cattle in a field. But they weren’t grazing, rather eyeing the truck as they passed. Again, they didn’t attack, they didn’t waste their energy on foolishly trying to outrun Colt’s truck.

As they drove onward, they passed multiple homes built off the side of the road. Colt wondered if anyone remained inside. Maybe the infected they’d passed had been the inhabitants. He thought to stop, to search for more supplies. Maybe a tent, a lantern, flares to shoot up in the sky. Maybe someone was looking for them? If Jake got a hold of the president, maybe he’d made their whereabouts known. But with the threat of the infected lingering, they couldn’t stop, not now.

With nothing but silence hanging in the air, Colt heard Dylan sigh. “What is it?” Colt said.

“Argh, nothing.”

“That sigh didn’t sound like nothing. What’s on your mind, son?”

“Mom.”

“Mom?”

“Yeah, Mom.”

Colt gulped. The one word caused immediate reaction of emotion. “What about her?”

“What do you think these things are? What do you think Mom was? I mean, she seemed so . . . so normal the second she got home from the airport, then suddenly she attacked us.”

Colt didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t lie to him. Dylan would see through a lie. But Colt was a fixer by nature, he hated seeing his family struggle, especially in their current reality. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Dylan sounded harsh.

Colt eyeballed his son. A sour, questioning look hung there.

“What do you want me to say?” Colt said.

“Something. Anything.” Then Dylan whipped his head around and avoided eye contact.

But Colt didn’t have the words, or the knowledge. Maybe he never would. He wanted to give his son comfort, to tell him his mother was in a better place, but again, that was a lie. Instead, Colt glanced in the rearview and searched for Wesley. But he was missing. “Wesley?” A panic rushed over him as his heartrate rose.

Colt leaned over the bench seat to see his son curled up in the fetal position and still lying on the floor.

“Hey, buddy, it’s okay, you can sit up now.” Colt stared down at him, while peeking back at the road and making sure he remained within the lines.

But Wesley wouldn’t move. “Dylan.” Colt looked to him for help. “Dylan!” Colt said, this time with force behind his voice as he kept his head turned.

With disdain on his face, Dylan eyeballed his father.

“Would you mind, hopping over the seat and helping your brother?”

Dylan huffed, but followed his father’s instruction.

Once he was in the back seat, Colt saw him lean toward the floor. “It’s okay, Wes, you can come up here. Sit with me, I’ll protect you,” Dylan said.

It took a little more coaxing, but Wesley finally climbed onto the back seat next to his brother. “That’s it,” Dylan encouraged, then wrapped his arm around his little brother.

Colt watched both in the rearview and grinned. They were the picture of brotherly love.

But soon, that grin, that slim smile, vanished from Colt’s face at the sight of man’s legs.

He spun around to be certain he wasn’t imaging what he saw in the mirror. Just as he did the glass in the back of the cab shattered.

Screams echoed inside the cabin of the truck as the infected man reached in and ripped Wesley from his brother’s grasp, and into the bed of the truck.

Instinctively, Colt slammed on the brakes and spun the wheel to the right. Both the infected man and Wesley were ejected over the side of the truck. They were sent flying through the air and onto the pavement, before rolling into the grass and gravel on the side of the road. Colt didn’t see it, but Wesley landed atop the infected man’s chest. That impact of the infected man’s head hitting the road would’ve killed most anyone, but someone that’s already dead, well . . . it did very little to slow his obsession down.

Colt shouldered his door ajar and lifted his sidearm. The infected man rolled Wesley off his chest and hovered over him as Wesley lay underneath. But before the infected man could react, Colt fired. The first bullet hit him just under the ear. The man lurched forward with the momentum, but the shot didn’t kill him. Colt squeezed again, this time, aiming higher, catching him in the back of the head.

The infected man fell limp onto Wesley and Colt ran to his son. Wesley sobbed uncontrollably, and as Colt glanced down at him, his face was full of blood. Colt tore the heavy body off and lifted Wesley from the pavement, then ran back toward the truck to lay him inside.

When he arrived, he grabbed a rag from underneath the seat and wiped the blood away. Dylan sat in a daze. “Dylan,” Colt said, but there was no answer, only desolation. “Dylan!” He finally caught his son’s attention. “Take care of your brother. I’m going to make sure the threat is gone.”

Dylan scooted close to Wesley and held him, but didn’t say anything.

Colt strolled toward the dead man. He was lying still. When he approached, Colt saw the exit wound out of the top of his head. Coming closer, he recognized the man. He was the same man Colt had tried to run down in the street.

Colt glanced back at the truck, at the undercarriage. Fluid leaked from underneath. He couldn’t see what type of liquid, but when he turned his attention back on the dead man, his face was twisted up in concern. They’d never make it to Colorado Springs, not in that truck.

62

In the skies above Colorado Springs

The red of the protruding rocks of the Garden of the Gods stuck out like fire against the mountain as Masterson flew over.

“Let’s follow US 24,” Colonel Jenkins said. “At least until we arrive in Woodland Park. There should be some relief from these dense trees once we get there.”

“Copy that, sir.” Masterson banked left and followed the road northwest as it wound and climbed through the Rockies.

Colonel Jenkins leaned out the open door and stared at the ground. “Take her down a bit.”

“How low would you like to fly, sir?” Masterson asked.

“Just above the tree line. We need to see any movement.”

“Roger that, sir.”

Masterson lowered the helicopter, hovering only feet above the tree line. As they passed the city of Manitou Springs, Bald saw something on the opposite side of the chopper. “Sir!” Bald said.

“What is it, Bald?”

“Somethings there.”

“And . . . what is it?” Colonel Jenkins probed.

Before Bald could return with an answer, Masterson cut in. “Should I take her down, sir?”

“No, don’t!” Bald interjected. “It’s just a group of infected.”

“Next time give me something more concrete, Bald,” Colonel Jenkins said. “Don’t get me all excited for nothing. Especially at my age. You’re likely to induce a heart attack.”

They shared a laugh at the Colonel’s expense. As they continued their search, there was no sign of human life anywhere. Even after they entered Woodland Park.

“What now, sir?” Masterson said, soaring over city limits.

The colonel racked his brain. He closed his eyes and searched the internal map of Colorado in his mind. West. What’s further west? Divide. There’s an opening there. Should have good sightlines for miles. Should be able to see far off, at least until Lake George before the trees thicken up.

“Keep following 24.”

The pilot shoved the stick forward, and the momentum of the chopper carried them farther inland. But before they reached Divide, Bald called out again. “Sir. There!” He pointed out the chopper’s open door.

“What is it this time?” Drake mocked. “Another tease.”

“Movement,” Bald said. “I see movement.”

Colonel Jenkins rose from his seat, doing his best to look over Bald’s shoulder. Against all odds, he saw a car traveling north, directly toward their position in the sky. The vehicle was far off, maybe five miles away.

“Sir? Shall, I proceed toward the approaching vehicle?” Masterson asked.

“Affirmative. Let’s see if we can make this trip short lived.”

“Roger that, sir.” Masterson veered from his current heading and flew directly for the oncoming car.

Upon approach, Masterson guided the helicopter nearer to the ground. The approaching vehicle stopped a few hundred yards away, allowing the chopper to set down as the three-lane road stretched wide outside the city limits of Midland.

Before the chopper could even reach the ground, two grown men exited the vehicle and waved their hands to get the attention of the pilot.

“I thought you said we were looking for a family, sir,” Drake said.

Colonel Jenkins watched as the men exited their vehicle. He, too, recognized Drake’s concern.

“We are,” Colonel Jenkins said.

“Maybe the kids are in the back?” Bald was optimistic.

“Yeah, maybe.” Colonel Jenkins leaned on the edge of his seat, then leaped out.

The others followed as Colonel Jenkins approached the men. As he walked on, Bald and Drake kept their eyes on the rolling hills that rose from both sides of the roadway. A position, no military man wanted to be in. They were vulnerable to an outside attack.

“Oh, thank God, you’re here,” the driver from the vehicle said, but his words were drowned out by the churning rotors as they slowed to a stop.

“Name?!” Colonel Jenkins got to the point.

“What? I couldn’t hear you.” The driver rotated his head and put his hand to his ear.

“Your name. What is it?”

“Lionel. Lionel Redding.”

Colonel Jenkins looked to the other man. He remained silent. And as Colonel Jenkins watched him, something about him raised a red flag. The man was uneasy. Uncomfortable in his own skin.

Against his better judgement, Colonel Jenkins decided to ask him. “And you?

“Gunderson.”

It wasn’t the family they were looking for. Without another word, Colonel Jenkins turned and began to walk away.

“Wait!” Redding said.

But Colonel Jenkins did not. Not until a gunshot reverberated off the surrounding hills and stopped him in his tracks. He whipped around and stepped forward. Both Bald and Drake aimed their rifles at the threat in front of them.

“You really think that was a good idea, son?” Colonel Jenkins stared at Gunderson. The man was still pointing his gun back at them.

“Look. Look. We don’t want any trouble.” Redding held his hands out, urging the airmen to stand down.

Colonel Jenkins shifted his attention onto him. “You should’ve thought about that before Gunderson starting shooting.”

“We just . . . just want a ride. To get to somewhere safe. We have family. Outside the state. They’re . . . we haven’t been able to reach them.”

“Everybody’s got family that’s unreachable, asshole,” Bald said, lifting his chin away from his rifle. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re in an apocalypse.”

“We don’t have enough room in the chopper for you,” Colonel Jenkins said.

“Looks like you got plenty of room in that thing for us,” Gunderson mocked.

“We don’t,” Colonel Jenkins was adamant. “Now, why don’t you put that gun down before you get hurt,” Colonel Jenkins instructed.

“Not happening,” Gunderson said.

Colonel Jenkins dropped his head and shook it. “Can you believe this guy?” Then he rose it and laughed. “The balls on him. You’ve got two rifles aimed on your chest, and you have one . . . what is that?” Colonel Jenkins strained to see the make and model. “A Sig nine-millimeter?”

“Forty actually.”

“Oh, a forty.” Again, Colonel Jenkins could do nothing but chuckle. “Look, we can’t give you a ride, but we can send someone back for you. We’re looking for a very specific family.”

“Which family? Maybe I know them,” Redding spoke up to offer any sort of help he could.

“Sorry, that’s classified,” Colonel Jenkins said.

“Now if you don’t mind, we need to get back to our mission.” Again, he turned around, but was forced back around when Gunderson spoke.

“That’s a lie. You won’t send someone. You’ll leave us here to die. Give us a ride . . .”

Colonel Jenkins stopped, but didn’t turn. “I’m not going to give you another chance. Lower your weapon, or we’ll be forced to put you down.”

“Do it then! ‘Cause I ain’t letting you leave here without us.”

Colonel Jenkins paused and thought for a moment. Idiot. Just lower your gun and live. If by the time he turned around his gun was lowered, he’d let him live, if not . . . well . . . at least he gave him a chance. He spun to face them again. It was the latter. He nodded to Bald to take the shot. “Bald.”

Bald didn’t hesitate. He pulled the trigger and dropped him.

Redding jumped in fright.

Colonel Jenkins walked toward Redding, feeling sorry for him. When he got close, he asked, “Do you have enough gas to get to Cheyenne Mountain? To NORAD?”

“I do. But I don’t know if I can get there until tomorrow. I’ve got another stop to make.”

“Get your shit in order and drive as fast as you can. If by some miracle you make it to the doors, tell them Colonel Jenkins sent you. They’ll let you in, and you’ll be safe there.”

“Thank you, Colonel, thank you.” Redding pulled on his hand as he shook it.

“It’s fine.” He turned and looked to his men. “Saddle up, boys.”

Each entered the chopper and awaited take off. Once inside, Masterson asked through the headset. “Sir, do you want to keep on this heading, or double back?”

“Head west.”

“Are you sure?” Masterson asked. “Shouldn’t we keep searching US 24?’

“We’ll return on 24.”

“Roger that, sir. You’re the boss.”

63

With his head lowered, Colt returned to the truck to see both his sons huddled together. They were holding each other and sobbing in the back seat. He scooted close and caressed Wesley’s back. “You’re okay now, you’re safe.” He did his best to show empathy. But they were far from being safe.

Neither boy broke away from the other. They held tight as Colt looked out the windshield. They couldn’t stay. Not in the middle of the road. They were sitting ducks. He consoled them for another minute before moving back to the driver’s seat.

The truck was still idling when Colt looked down at the dashboard and saw the unfamiliar sight of the red glowing across his gauges. The Check Engine Soon light shined like a spotlight. Colt brought his hand to his face as his mouth gaped and he wondered how much farther they would get.

Shaking the momentary thought of uncertainty from his psyche, Colt slammed the door shut and shifted into drive. He swung around the dead man in the middle of the road and continued toward Lake George.

When Colt approached US 24, making the connection from County Road 90, he glanced left, then right. No cars were in sight. He breathed a sigh, hoping the lane of blocked traffic they had avoided near Spinney Mountain Reservoir hadn’t wound its trail this far.

Inside the yielding turn lane, Colt glanced over his shoulder out of instinct. There was nothing but valley and mountains as pines danced along the grass and aspen’s speckled the hillside.

They passed some abandoned cars on the shoulder, but none that hindered their path. Colt expected to see infected wandering, much like they did near the reservoirs, but none were there. On their right, they passed a small children’s playground. Instantly, Colt thought of his boys. He turned to see them still huddled together. But now, Dylan raised his head and kept his vision straight out the windshield while Wesley cowered in his lap.

Returning his attention to the road as they made their way through town, none of the buildings looked closed. None were locked up from this apocalypse. If he didn’t know what was going on, it would have looked like business as usual.

But then, Colt strained to see the road ahead. A cloud bank was closing in, some kind of weather system was moving over the mountains. They were low lying clouds, almost fog. Strange. Eerie even. But not entirely uncommon. Any Coloradan knows if you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes and it’ll likely change.

The heavy air rolled over Colt’s truck as they made their way into it. Then a mist began to fall and covered the windshield with tiny droplets of water. He flicked on his wipers and reached down to turn on his headlights.

Visibility was at a minimum. He could only see maybe twenty to thirty feet. With no way of knowing what would come next, Colt reduced his speed, well below the posted speed limit of 45. He did not want to be surprised by another oncoming vehicle, or the chance of more infected standing in the road.

“Dad, I’m hungry,” Dylan said from the back seat.

“Grab a snack from the supplies we grabbed from Walter’s.”

“I’m not hungry for a snack, I need a meal,” Dylan said.

Out of instinct Colt leaned forward, scanning the shoulder for a restaurant. But knew if one was even close, no one would be there to serve them.

“Sorry, bud, I don’t know if we’re going to get a meal again for a while.”

Dylan huffed and said, “That sucks.”

“Tell me about it, I’m hungry too.” Colt caught his eye in the mirror. “Just grab something out of the box.”

Colt heard Dylan ransacking through the small box and with every toss of his hand, he could hear Dylan’s disappointment. “Dad, there’s nothing here.”

Colt clenched his jaw, getting frustrated with his son. He knew there wasn’t much, but it wasn’t the time for his son to be picky. Watching Dylan, taking his eye off the road, he saw Dylan look up and point out the passenger side window.

“What about that?” Dylan said.

Colt followed Dylan’s gesture and witnessed a building off the right side of the road, marked with the word Food on the covering. He lifted his foot off the gas and slowed as they approached the entrance. Peering out the window, Colt scanned the area. But with his sight limited due to the fog, he knew he couldn’t risk driving off the road. “Can’t, bud, sorry.” Colt shifted his view from the store and back out the windshield.

“Argh, are you serious, why not?”

“Are you serious?” Colt looked at his son through the mirror and asked with sarcasm.

“Alright, I get it, there could be infected people out there, but how long do you seriously think we can last without food?” Dylan said.

“About three weeks.”

“Oh, seriously?” Dylan’s tune changed.

“Yeah. As long as we have water. And besides, we’ll be in Colorado Springs by nightfall. If nothing else, I’m sure the vice president will have plenty of food to give us.”

“You really think the vice president is still waiting there? What if he left? What if there’s nothing there but infected?” Worry shone through in his voice.

“We can’t dwell on that possibility, Dylan. We have to hope.”

“Hope! Ha. What exactly is there for us to hope for?” Dylan turned his attention away from his father.

“Easy, Dylan, I know you’re frustrated, but you need to stay positive. You keep throwing a pity party for yourself, and you’re going to end up . . .” Colt paused, unwilling to say, ‘like their mother.’ But he knew it to be true. They couldn’t fall into the trap of fear and self-loathing. All of them needed to be there for each other, to be strong, and survive.

Once outside the city limits of Divide, Colt slowed as he entered town. Still the fog was thick, but not as thick as before. Visibility was about a quarter mile now. The town was empty, vacant of infected, at least so far.

Colt knew they had almost thirty miles until their destination, and as he continued, he kept a constant eye on his gas gauge. The needle hovered just over the E. C’mon, baby, you can make it. Don’t let me down now. We’re so close.

Just as the thought entered Colt’s mind, something under the hood shook.

“Uh, Dad, what was that?” Dylan recognized the shutter.

“You heard that, huh?”

“More like heard and felt that. What was it?”

He didn’t want to scare his sons, not until there was a need to make them concerned. “It’s nothing. This truck is old. You know how old trucks can be.”

“You always said this thing would never break down. It was a beast.”

“She is a beast.” He rubbed his hand over the dash. “Aren’t you, sweetie.” He did his best to speak nice, as if that would matter, somehow calm the truck down.

But again, the truck clunked and shook before it backfired.

There was a stoplight ahead, and Colt didn’t know if he should slow. Obviously, no light flickered, because of the lack of power, but still he wanted to be certain no one entered through the intersection. Quickly, though, he threw that thought away the instant he realized taking his foot off the gas would stop the momentum of the truck. That was the last thing he wanted to do. The ride to Woodland Park was at a lower elevation than Divide. Worst case, Colt could put the truck into neutral and coast. But they were still a long way off from freedom.

64

In the skies above Fairplay, Colorado

When the helicopter flew over the ridge, the pilot steered due west. As they soared, Masterson spoke through his headset. “We’ve got a pretty thick fog bank to the north of us. I say we stick to the south and west for now, what do you say, Colonel?”

“You’re the pilot. But yeah, I assume, it will be difficult to see anyone there.” Then Colonel Jenkins thought again about their path. “Continue on this heading until we reach 285. Once there, we’ll follow the highway back north and loop back around.”

“Roger that, sir,” Masterson said. “I’ll have to keep an eye on our fuel level though.”

“Understood.”

It wasn’t until they reached Saddle Mountain that the fog began to lift to the north.

“Hey Colonel, that’s ElevenMile right there, isn’t it?” Drake asked.

“Sure is.”

“You remember that giant Kokanee you pulled out of there last October?”

“Hell yeah, man it was gnarly looking. And the teeth, hell they looked like piranha.”

The men shared a laugh, then refocused their attention to the valley below.

“Sir! You seeing this?” Bald said through the microphone.

But Colonel Jenkins was on the opposite side of the helicopter. “No, what do you got?”

“Looks like some downed fencing and tire tracks leading away from the road. The grass is pushed down like someone went off-roading to avoid something.”

“Where you seeing this?” Colonel Jenkins shifted over Bald’s right shoulder.

“Right behind the semi.” He saw Colonel Jenkins hovering there.

“Yeah, I see it. Looks like there’s one dead infected on the highway too,” Colonel Jenkins said.

“Still doesn’t mean it’s our family,” Drake chimed in

“True, but it gives us an indication someone bested these bastards.”

“Why do you say that?” Bald said.

“Do you see an abandoned vehicle that may have made those tire tracks?”

All looked to the ground below.

Then Bald turned and said, “Nope.”

“Me neither.”

Colonel Jenkins returned to his seat and strapped back in to continue his search.

“Sir,” Masterson said.

“Go ahead.”

“We’re running low on fuel, sir. And daylight. We need to return to base. Refuel. Maybe we can come back out tomorrow.”

Colonel Jenkins sighed, knowing that was unlikely. The vice president had been strict in his order. If the family was not found by tonight, they were to leave first thing the next morning. “Push the fuel we have left. I don’t know if this family will get another chance if we return, especially after nightfall. The vice president was unbending with his order. I don’t think he is going to risk our lives by going out again.”

“Roger that, sir. Would you like to continue on 285?”

“Yes. Follow the highway. Once we get over the pass, we’ll loop back down toward the Springs. Will we have enough fuel for that?”

“I think so, sir.”

“Good. Make it happen.”

65

Woodland Park, Colorado

In what was usually a bustling city with plenty of traffic and people to watch, there was no movement. However, there were far more abandoned cars in the parking lots of the local establishments. Restaurants. Retail stores. Gas stations. You name it, there was at least one vehicle, if not multiple, stalled out or left behind.

Colt had never travelled this far east on US 24. This was his first visit to Woodland Park. The beauty of the city was undeniable and bigger, more developed, than he’d anticipated. Still with the amount of buildings, they didn’t detract from the majesty of the Rocky Mountains.

“Dad. What if we stop somewhere here?” Dylan said. “There are plenty of places to grab food from.” Colt joined in Dylan’s enthusiasm, in awe of the selection of restaurants they could stop on a normal day. But this was no normal day, this was no normal situation.

“I . . . don’t think we can,” Colt said, but he didn’t really believe his own words. Why couldn’t they stop? It wasn’t likely that groups of infected would be in every establishment. Besides, it had been almost a full day since they’d had something to eat, and Colt hadn’t seen one sign of infected since they dragged the man from Eleven Mile Mountain Reservoir. “Screw it.” Colt swerved into a parking lot of a fast food restaurant. Just as he entered the lot, the truck lurched and came to an abrupt halt before he could shift into park.

“Aw, what was that?” Dylan leaned over the bench seat. Colt saw the concern on his face. “Are we going to stop?”

“We are stopped.” Colt whipped his head around. “Boys. It looks like we’re going to get some food after all. And now that we have to do this, we do it together. I’m not leaving you out here alone while I go search inside.”

Both eyed him. Excitement lingered in Dylan’s eyes, but Wesley’s were wide with fear.

“Don’t worry, bud, I’ll be with you the entire time,” Colt reassured Wesley.

Then Dylan added encouragement getting excited at the prospect of food. “Me too. We’ll protect you.”

Colt offered a smile and Wesley returned with his own.

“Dylan you have the Glock?”

“Right here.” He showed his father.

“Good. Hand me my rifle.” Colt nodded to the seat where the gun lay. “Alright we take this slow, okay? And we stick together. No wandering off. Got it?” Colt looked to Dylan, knowing he had a proclivity to do so.

“Got it,” Dylan said.

Colt stepped out of the truck, and his sons followed from the back seat. As they walked, Dylan whispered from behind. “What about the truck?” he said. “What do we do about the stuff we found at Walter’s? What about the medicine?”

Colt didn’t bother turning around, but rather kept his eye trained ahead, scanning the area for any movement. “For now, we leave it. After we go inside and grab the food, we’ll have to come back and get it.”

They tiptoed near the side entrance of the store front and peered through the glass. There was no sign of any infected. Only trash scattered about on the floors. Old half-eaten burgers and fries remained on some of the tables. Just inside the door there was a mop and bucket. The mop was on the floor, and the bucket still full of murky water.

Colt reached for the handle and pulled. He only opened it a crack. The door screeched, and Colt stopped pulling. He clenched his face and closed his eye. He wondered if anyone inside had heard the screech. He waited for only a moment to see movement, but there was none.

“Ready?” He nodded to Dylan.

Dylan nodded back.

“Wesley come here.” He stood behind his older brother. “Stay in the middle of Dylan and me.” Wesley moved over to stand between them. “Dylan. Stay close to both of us. Do not let your brother out of arms reach. Understand?”

Again, Dylan nodded.

Once inside the first set of the double doors, Colt reached again for the handle of the next set. This time the door didn’t creek, but slid open with ease. To their right was the bank of three cash registers and the menu that hung above. The smell of old fries and stale grease hovered in the air like a bad odor, but even in the stink, Colt’s stomach ached to be filled.

Colt peered over his shoulder and whispered to Dylan. “Kitchen.”

On the left side of the counter there was an opening. Colt walked through the opening, and his sons followed close behind. The drive-thru window was to their left. They walked by the fry drop box. Colt looked in to see the bin completely empty. Then he proceeded deeper into the kitchen. The condiment station sat off to their left. He peered into the plastic containers that hung suspended above the counter.

Tomatoes. Pickles. Lettuce. Cheese. Onions, he thought.

Colt reached in, and lifted the pickle tray, figuring they would be fresh enough to eat. “Dig in.” Colt said.

Without thinking each of his boys dipped their hands inside the pickle juice and ripped the round vegetable from the bottom of the container and stuffed their faces.

Next, Colt lifted the tomatoes out. They seemed fine, not rotten. Then he looked to the lettuce. It was wilted and starting to blacken.

Colt raised his head and searched for a freezer. There had to be food there. If the door had remained closed since the power went out, it might still have fresh food to consume. He found the set of steel double doors.

“Boys,” he whispered.

They both looked up from the container of pickles as he nodded to the freezer.

Dylan acknowledged his father’s suggestion and put his hand over Wesley’s to get him to stop.

They would need to step around the end of the condiment station to reach the freezer. Walking slowly, they turned the corner, where they saw a bag of unopened hamburger buns. “Grab that bag,” Colt whispered to Dylan. He did so just as Colt reached for the horizontal metal handle of the freezer.

He pulled it open, expecting to feel the rush of cold air, but there was none. Colt continued to tug the door open, to let light inside. There’s gotta be something. But as the natural light shined on the floor, an infected revealed itself. There, standing in the back of the freezer was a woman.

Colt’s eyes bulged at the sight of her. He didn’t hesitate before screaming, “Run!”

With the door being as heavy and slow as it was to close, Colt left it open, and bolted with his sons. The infected woman sprinted out of the freezer and chased Colt as he ran through the kitchen. As they ran, Colt reached for anything he could find to hinder her path. Ripping mixing bowls, plastic containers, and cutlery from the high shelves.

Dylan reached the doors first and he tore the first set open, allowing Wesley to run through. Colt was close behind, but so was the infected woman. “Dad! Hurry!” Dylan screamed.

She was only two steps behind Colt as he hopped over the countertop and ran for the open door. Once through, he immediately grabbed the doors from Dylan’s grasp and slammed them shut. Dylan and Wesley fell back into the second set of doors as Colt held the handles to protect them.

The infected woman shook the glass. Colt remembered the mop on the floor. “Dylan! Quick! The mop.” Dylan lifted it from the floor and waited for instruction. “Slide the shaft through the two handles in the door.” Dylan did as he was told, but Colt still wouldn’t let go. He looked to his father and said, “Do you think that will hold?”

“Nope.”

Further concern flashed across Dylan’s face. “But I don’t need it to. We only need to slow her down.”

Then the infected woman stopped shaking the doors and stepped away. Her move surprised Colt. “Quick. Give me the Glock.” Colt knew the rifle wasn’t necessary at close range. He reached out his hand, and Dylan set the handgun down.

The woman let out a loud piercing screech and ran head-first for the glass. But she wouldn’t get any closer as Colt stopped her dead in her tracks with one shot through the middle of her forehead.

The three of them remained in the vestibule in a pile of glass, staring at the dead infected woman on the floor. They waited without speaking. In that silence, screeches emanated from outside the restaurant, but the voices seemed far away.

Colt whipped his head around, unaware of the exact origin of the screeching. In the foreground of his vision was his truck. The medicine. Panic set in. The cooler in the truck was more important than the bread in their hands.

“Stay here,” Colt whispered to his sons, knowing the greater threat remained outside those doors.

Once outside, he didn’t bother searching for movement, instead he crept toward the truck, reached inside the cab, and grabbed the cooler. Without bothering to close the door, he snuck back into the restaurant to rejoin his sons. After shutting the doors to the restaurant, Colt looked near the handles. A lock was there. He spun the lock, then checked to make sure it held.

“You think that will hold?” Dylan said.

“No. But this is probably the safest place we can be right now.”

“How do you figure?” Dylan said.

“Because out there we’re in the elements.”

“Yeah, and in here, there is a dead infected woman on the floor. What if they can sense her body. Smell her blood, anything?”

Of course, Colt had thought of that possibility, but at least in the restaurant they were behind locked doors. He’d rather take his chances.

Instead of opening the second set of doors that led into the restaurant, Colt crouched down and stepped through the empty frame and moved toward the dead woman. Standing over her, he set the cooler down, then squatted.

“What are you doing?” Dylan said.

“You said it yourself, what if the infected see her? What would they do? We need to move her out of sight.” Colt turned to his sons. “Get in here and go over . . .” Colt paused and searched for a hiding spot. “There.” Colt pointed to the corner booth. “Get under that table and stay out of sight.

The boys did so. Then Colt walked around the dead woman and dragged her through the kitchen and into the freezer. He dropped her body and pushed the door shut, locking it tight.

Then he walked into the belly of the store, knowing he needed to rejoin his sons. He stepped out from behind the condiment stand, but was forced to drop to the floor. At first glance he’d seen at least five infected loitering outside the entrance, staring inside the restaurant.

He army-crawled across the sticky floor to the side of the bank of registers. Once there, he stuck his head out, doing his best to only show his eyes. First, he saw the boys huddled in the corner, and they saw him too. Colt raised his index finger to his mouth. Then he turned his attention to the infected. They were growing in numbers. He couldn’t be certain how many there were, or if they would act, but soon they would see the dark stain on the floor.

It seemed they did at that instant as more loud screeches cried, trailed by banging on the glass. Both the windows and doors shook. There was no way to know how long the glass would hold.

66

In the skies above Westcreek, Colorado

“How are we doing on fuel?” Colonel Jenkins said.

“Running on fumes, Colonel.”

“Alright. Let’s follow our current path. Head through Woodland Park and follow 24 back to Cheyenne Mountain.”

“Copy that, sir.”

They hadn’t flown for more than thirty seconds before Drake shouted through the headset. “Colonel, you seeing this?”

“Looks like the infected got their eyes on another prize.” Colonel Jenkins stared down at a fast food restaurant that was surrounded by infected, much like the tree they had uprooted back on the fairway of the golf course.

Poor bastards, Colonel Jenkins thought, looking down, waiting to see some poor schmuck running out the back door for his or her life only to be overrun.

“Should we engage, sir? Drake looked back to him.

Engage? Why? “Negative. We don’t have the fuel to hover or intervene.”

“Are you sure, Colonel? What if it’s the family?” Drake said.

He gave him a knowing look. “That’s highly unlikely. Probably just some local, held up in the restaurant. Carry on, Masterson.”

* * *

The roaring sound of the churning helicopter echoed inside the restaurant, drowning out the screeches from outside. A smile grew on Colt’s face. In here, he wanted to yell. He wished he could jump from his prone state and run outside to flag them down, but he couldn’t, they were stuck. Immobile. And the infected were coming in, it was only a matter of time. He had to do something to alert the aircraft they were there, but before he could think of a plan, the echoing of the chopper faded in the distance, and was replaced by more screeching.

* * *

“Wait,” Colonel Jenkins said.

“Sir,” Masterson returned.

“Turn around. Head back to the restaurant.”

“Sir, we don’t have the fuel.”

“Do it. I’ll be damned if we can’t save one person from this hell.”

“Hell yeah, sir!” Drake said.

The helicopter banked left and spun back around. “Lock and load boys,” Colonel Jenkins said. “Aim true and be quick, because we don’t have the fuel to miss our shots.”

Masterson dropped in from the east, hovering low in the sky before they unleashed the first burst of shots. Drake and Bald stood side by side, firing into the group of infected who surrounded the restaurant. At the first shot, the mass of infected shifted their attention to the hovering aircraft. Bald and Drake continued their hail of gunfire and soon the infected began to flee.

“Look at them scatter.” Colonel Jenkins laughed in the headset. “Like ants under a magnifying glass. Great job, men!” He tapped each of them on the shoulder, knowing they’d saved someone, saved a life that was marked for death. “Alright, Masterson. Take us home.”

* * *

Once the shooting subsided, Colt rose from the floor, but stayed in a crouch as he walked toward the corner booth. When he arrived, both Dylan and Wesley were shaking under the table. Colt knew they couldn’t stay. It was likely some, if not all, the remaining infected would return. When they did, they’d need to be as far away from there as possible.

“Boys, you did so good. We can’t stay here. We need to leave. To get into the hills and away from the city.”

Dylan crawled out from under the table first, but Wesley remained.

“C’mon, bud.” Colt reached out his hand. “We have to go.”

Wesley stared through glassy eyes, then reached for his father. When he was out from under the table, he lurched around Colt’s neck. Colt bent at the knees and lifted him, then nodded to Dylan to grab the cooler. “Don’t forget that and the bread.”

They reached the door and Colt unlatched the lock, then pushed it open. “Close your eyes, Wesley,” Colt said, noticing the amount of stacked dead bodies outside the restaurant.

Colt saw the tree line, but also saw two abandoned cars in the parking lot. On second thought, jumping into a car would be easier, and a much faster way to get to Colorado Springs. But how much time did they have? How long before the infected would return? Knowing the tree line awaited just beyond the cars, he could check the vehicles first. Carrying one son, and with the other by his side, Colt approached the first car. The doors were locked, and no keys were in sight. Next, he moved to the other. An older car. He touched the handle, and the door clicked open.

“Dylan, climb in there and see if you can find any keys.”

Dylan jumped inside the car and tossed garbage that was strewn about inside the vehicle. Colt scanned the perimeter for any sign of infected. Although he didn’t see anything, he shook in fright when he heard another screech.

“Dylan, get out of there. There’s no time. We need to make for the hills.”

Dylan ducked from underneath the frame of the door, and Colt led them into the thick forestation and headed southeast for the twenty-seven-mile hike to safety.

* * *

Cheyenne Mountain Complex

When Colonel Jenkins and his crew entered the vice presidents’ office empty-handed, the wind was kicked from the vice president’s lungs. “I take it the mission was a failure?” He looked only to Colonel Jenkins.

“We found a couple civilians, but they were not the family we were searching for.”

“That’s . . . that’s too bad.” He breathed a heavy sigh and leaned back in his chair. “We will sleep here tonight. But be aware, we will leave tomorrow at first light. Thank you, Colonel. You’re dismissed.” Then he leaned forward in his chair to go back to writing in his notes.

Colonel Jenkins allowed his men to move out the door first, and as he turned his back to the vice president, he stalled at his words. “Colonel! Give me your gut. Do you think this mission was foolish, or do you think that family is still out there alive somewhere?”

“Sir?” Colonel Jenkins wondered why he’d brought up that question. Truth was, ever since they’d taken out the infected in Woodland Park at the fast food restaurant, he’d had a feeling, deep in his belly, that he was leaving behind someone important. But his conscience was clear, acknowledging he had given someone a fighting chance.

The vice president rose from his chair and walked toward him as he stood by the door. “I just want you to be absolutely certain. The president was counting on us to find that family.”

Colonel Jenkins lowered his head. He wasn’t normally a coward, nor would he shy away from confrontation, but as he faced the ground, he nodded up and down. Then caught the vice president’s eye once again. “Yes, sir. I’m positive they’re gone.”

“Very well,” he turned. “Like I said, you are dismissed.”

Colonel Jenkins wanted to say more. He lingered for a moment before disappearing into the darkness of the mountain in search of a hot meal and a place to rest his weary head.

67

In the foothills of the Rocky Mountains

Darkness fell, and it was only then that Colt stopped and fell to the ground, exhausted. He and the boys had hiked five miles south of Woodland Park. As they’d walked, they’d paralleled the road, using the tree line as cover, not once coming across an infected person.

On the forest floor, Colt breathed heavy, collecting himself before he rose to set up camp.

“Do you think that helicopter will come back for us?” Dylan said.

In between breaths, Colt said, “I don’t know.”

Dylan was perturbed. “Why couldn’t they wait? Why did they just fly away?”

“No idea. Maybe they wanted to help, to give us a fighting chance.”

“But how did they know we were inside?”

He breathed out the final sigh when he caught his breath. “Again, I don’t know. If I had to guess, though, maybe they just wanted to take out their aggression on the enemy.”

“Or maybe they were out of gas,” Wesley chimed in. Perhaps his thought was said with the most intelligence.

Colt chuckled. “It’s called fuel, buddy, but yeah . . . that’s a strong possibility.” Then Colt took his first step over a bed of pine needles at his feet.

“What are you doing?” Dylan asked.

“Gathering some kindling for a fire.”

“You’re not serious? We’re not staying here?” Dylan said.

“What? I can’t even count the number of times we camped in the woods.”

“Yeah, but . . . this is different. And we’ve still got a long way to go.”

“You’re right, Dylan, but Wesley needs to rest. So do I after carrying him some of the way.”

Dylan groaned. “Why can’t we find some abandoned car or truck on the road? Sleep there?”

“Can’t risk it. I don’t want to bring your brother out into the open again. Not until we’ve regained some of our strength. We’re going to rest here for the night. We’ll get up at first light and hike for Colorado Springs.”

“Now stay with your brother. I won’t be long.”

* * *

Cheyenne Mountain Complex

In his bunk, Colonel Jenkins rolled around restlessly. It was well after midnight now, and he couldn’t find the sleep his body desired. Every time he shut his eyes, he saw the infected entering the fast food restaurant and tearing apart a faceless young family. His imagination ran rampant. He couldn’t stifle the urge to fly out one last time. Just for a quick search. Maybe grab Masterson and take him on a secret mission. A mission neither the vice president nor Bald and Drake would need to know about.

He rolled over again and let out a sigh before looking to his watch. The numbers glowed in the dark. 1:54 a.m. He threw his arm down, before settling on his back, then stared at the ceiling and thought, If they were in Woodland Park last night, how far could they get? Where would they be? Would they follow the highway down into Manitou Springs? Could they get here by morning if they hiked through the night? Maybe they found a car. What would be the search area? Masterson and I could go out before the sun comes up. Hover above Colorado Springs, and maybe we get lucky and see them.

He couldn’t find the answers he so desperately searched for, not yet. He’d have to wait until morning, but morning couldn’t come soon enough.

* * *

In the Foothills of the Rocky Mountains

The glow of the campfire burned down to ash as only smoke rose. Colt and his sons were fast asleep. Although sleep had been hard to come by for Colt, and he’d closed his eyes only moments prior.

In a dream, Colt saw Anna smiling. Full of life. Full of beauty. She wore a flowing white cover-up atop her white string-bikini that was stark against her caramel skin as she walked along the powder-sand beach. Colt gave chase, but was never able to catch her. He got close once, but then she appeared farther away while peering back over her shoulder and playfully smiling at him. The sand stretched for miles, and it was glaring against the Carolina-blue skies and tantalizing turquoise water.

As Colt ran, something strange happened, something unexpected. She stopped her hurried pace and kept her back to him. Anna? he heard himself whisper in the dream. But she didn’t turn. Not until, her hair, it . . . it turned from blonde to black. Seeing her through his eyes, Colt stepped backwards and away from her, but not too far. He couldn’t leave, he wouldn’t run. Not from this. He wished he could stay there with her, if only. If only, it was in a dream.

Her body rotated, slowly, much like she had in their house when he’d found her naked in the bathroom. When she faced him, Colt felt his eyes bulge, and his body went rigid. She raised her head, and that beauty that had always lived with her, faded. Her eyes were black, set against her sullen face, and drool dripped from her mouth as she frothed like a rabid dog.

Colt’s body shook. He wanted to wake. He could feel his body trembling, trying to find reality, attempting to pull himself out of the nightmare, but for some reason he stayed there. And as he did, darkness crept into the sky, and lightning crackled against the black.

He prepared himself to be attacked, like he’d been before, but Anna didn’t move from her position in the sand, not until she opened her mouth to speak. And she spoke loudly and with purpose, uttering only one word.

Amy.

Colt shot up from where he lay in the woods and sucked in air, trying to fill his lungs. They felt empty. He scanned the area in a panic, expecting to see an infected person or persons closing in on their position.

But there was nothing. In the still calmness of early morn, there wasn’t a sound aside from the subtle snore of both boys. Colt stared to his wrist to see the time. It was almost five. It would be light soon, and they needed to get moving. The terrain ahead would be difficult to maneuver, and if they wanted to be anywhere near the Cheyenne Mountain Complex by the end of the day, they needed to get going.

Colt stepped toward his sons and shook them as they slept. When both rolled over, Colt said, “We need to go. Here. Eat this.” Colt handed each of them a hamburger bun for energy.

Both sat up and devoured the bread in three bites. As Colt watched them eat, his belly ached for food, for sustenance, something more than bread.

“Are you ready?” Colt said, standing to his feet.

Dylan stood and dusted himself off. Wesley followed suit.

“Good. Stay close to your brother.” He looked to each in turn. “Try not to make a sound as we walk. We’ve got a long road ahead, so let’s try to be fast. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” both said.

Colt led, and they started into their hike a little less than an hour before the sun would rise. There was plenty to be concerned about as they walked, but the only thing on Colt’s mind at that moment was the one word his wife had said in the dream.

Amy.

68

Cheyenne Mountain Complex

Colonel Jenkins stood outside Masterson’s bunk room. He leaned into the door and listened for movement. There was nothing. He knocked lightly, trying not to alert others that slept in the adjoining rooms. But still there was no sound in the room, so he knocked again. There was shuffling, followed by an audible grunt. Masterson flung door open to see Colonel Jenkins standing fully dressed for the day.

At the sight of him, Masterson stood taller and at attention. “Colonel Jenkins? What is it, sir?”

Colonel Jenkins looked throughout the halls and spoke quietly. “I need your help.”

“Sir?” There was a questioning look on Masterson’s face.

“I need to fly out again, to look for that family.”

“But I thought the vice president said we’re leaving first thing this morning?”

“He did. And I assume that’s what his plan is, but I wanted to fly out one more time before sunrise, and maybe a little after. To see if we can find them. Can you do that?”

Masterson answered immediately. “I’ll be ready in five.”

Colonel Jenkins nodded and stepped away from the doorway. He stared down the hallway, making sure no one else lingered in that early hour. The halls remained empty when Masterson exited his room. Without uttering a word, he moved toward the exit of the complex, and Jenkins followed on his heels.

When they reached the exit, two men were standing guard. They saluted the colonel and Masterson, as both men outranked them.

“Open the gate, Staff Sargent Butler,” Colonel Jenkins said.

But the men didn’t move, only spoke. “Sorry, sir, but the vice president, said—”

Colonel Jenkins cut him off. “Let me stop you right there. This mission is sanctioned by the vice president himself.”

“Then why didn’t we get the order?”

“Because I’m giving you the order right now.”

Both men were confused. Butler spoke again, “But I thought—”

Again Jenkins interrupted, “You thought wrong.”

Still they didn’t move, not until Colonel Jenkins stepped toward them with a scowl. “Look! You can either open the gate, or I can go and wake up the vice president from his slumber. Then he’ll walk his old and tired ass back down here, only to reem you out for insubordination.”

At that, both stepped to the guard station and pushed the button to open the door.

“That’s what I thought,” Colonel Jenkins turned and rejoined Masterson.

He didn’t know why, but as the door opened, Colonel Jenkins expected there to be light shining in from outside, but there was none. Darkness consumed the sky, with only faint moonlight guiding their path as they walked.

“Sir.” Butler ran from behind. “You’re going to need these.” In his hand were two flashlights.

Jenkins picked them out of his hand. “At ease, Butler. No need. We know exactly where we’re going.” He grinned to Masterson. And began to walk out the gate, but suddenly stopped and turned back around. “Oh, and by the way, if the vice president asks you where we went. Just tell him, it was on a joyride.”

“But I thought . . .” Butler trailed off.

Colonel Jenkins chuckled and led Masterson outside.

Out in the elements of the morning, the bitter air cut through their skin. Brrr. Colonel Jenkins thought as goose bumps rose on his arms and he shook.

“Do you think the infected are still near the gate, sir?” Masterson whispered.

“My gut says yes.”

Funny thing was, though, neither man heard anything in the dark of the early morning. Which was peculiar. They expected to hear something, some semblance of rustling. The shaking of the gate. Bodies being pushed together. A screech in the distance. But it was silent.

The light of the moon guided their path to the helipad. Masterson took his seat, and Colonel Jenkins used his time scanning the area for any sign of intrusion. But with the lack of light, any movement would be difficult to decipher, maybe even until an infected was standing right on top of them. Colonel Jenkins felt it in his gut, a twinge that someone was watching, waiting for the precise time to react, and out of fear, he urged Masterson to hurry.

“Masterson! Let’s get this bird in the air.”

“Just going through the pre-check, sir. We’ll be in the air in a minute.”

“A minute?” Colonel Jenkins shook his head and spoke under his breath. His head moved slowly, but he was unable to focus in the dark. That is, until, an unmistakable screech echoed off the rocks as two infected attacked, leaping into the open cockpit. Colonel Jenkins fell onto the floor, surprised as one of the infected hovered over him. The infected’s jaws were smacking, and his teeth chattered as he lunged for Colonel Jenkins’ neck. Meanwhile, the other infected reached for Masterson, grabbing him from behind, ripping him into the head rest of the pilot’s chair. Colonel Jenkins lifted his left arm up and blocked the infected’s attempt to tear out his throat. With his right hand, he reached for his hip, fumbling for his sidearm. It was snapped in place. His block faltered, and he was losing strength in his arm. The infected lowered closer and closer to his face as spit dripped from its open mouth. Colonel Jenkins turned his head, leaving his carotid artery vulnerable. But he had to—it was the only way to lose inches from the chomping teeth.

Finally, he was able to flip the snap on his holster. He lifted the Glock free, brought the handgun to the infected’s head, and pulled the trigger.

The muzzle flare lit up the cockpit, and the other infected shifted his attention from the pilot onto Colonel Jenkins who still lay beneath the heavy frame of the undead. The second infected lifted his dead friend from atop Colonel Jenkins and tossed him out the opening onto the concrete landing pad. Without hesitation, Colonel Jenkins put three slugs into his chest. The infected looked down to his own chest, but had little reaction, nor did he try to leap onto Colonel Jenkins as he lay on the floor vulnerable. Instead, the infected man jumped out of the cockpit and reached for Colonel Jenkins’ foot.

The infected dragged Colonel Jenkins from the floor of the helicopter. He lifted his Glock to get a bearing on the sight and when he did, he pulled the trigger, but there was a jam and just as he reached for the slide to eject the round, Colonel Jenkins fell from the the helicopter to the concrete below. His back struck the hard surface and the blow jarred the Glock from his hand. Every vertebra in his back cracked up his spine, and the air was sucked from his lungs.

Dazed, Colonel Jenkins shook the cobwebs away and realized he was still being dragged away from the helipad and toward a large group of screeching infected beyond the fence. In fact, he was being led toward the front gate, where hundreds of infected had leered at him the day before.

Kicking his free leg wildly, Colonel Jenkins struck the infected’s butt and back numerous times, but nothing made a difference, he couldn’t shake free.

They were closing in on the entrance of the gate, maybe thirty feet off. All seemed lost, and Colonel Jenkins knew he was being led to his death.

Until . . . a gun shot, one shot, boomed and dropped the infected man just short of his goal of making Colonel Jenkins a meal for hundreds of starving infected.

Fingers, hands, even some skinny arms of infected children reached through the fencing, each stretching for Colonel Jenkins as he lay beyond the body of the fallen dead.

From the ground, Colonel Jenkins backpedaled away from the fray, only gaining ground and standing to his feet once he made sure he was out of harms way. As he ran toward the helicopter, he glanced over at where he thought the shot had originated from.

He couldn’t see through the darkness, not completely. Who had come to his rescue? His savior was unknown until he saw two men’s shadows move in the darkness. They made their way toward Colonel Jenkins position to cut him off before he reentered the helicopter.

“Drake? Bald? Is that you?”

“Who else would it be?” Drake said on approach. “We knew you couldn’t hack it without us.”

“What? How?” Colonel Jenkins said.

“We heard you talking outside Masterson’s room. We wouldn’t let you leave without us.”

“But how did you see me? See the infected?”

“Night vision, sir.”

They all shared a brief chuckle.

“Always prepared, aren’t you Drake?” Colonel Jenkins said.

“I knew there was a chance we’d need it. Turns out, we do. You got room for two more on the chopper?” Drake asked.

“After that stunt you just pulled,” Colonel Jenkins smiled. “I’ll even let you fly this thing.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were moving out this morning? Why the secret with Masterson?” Drake asked.

“Truth is, I didn’t know myself until the middle of the night. I was just going to grab Masterson. See if he’d be willing to take me out until dawn. I was hoping, we’d see something. I can’t shake the feeling the family is still out there.”

“But the vice president gave us an order,” Bald said.

“And you’re the first to follow every order you’re given, are you, Bald?” The colonel gave him a knowing look.

“Well, no, sir, but this came from the top. From the vice president, by way of the president himself,” Bald said.

“That’s why I’m doing this. Because the president thinks this family is important. In my opinion, the first order supersedes the second.”

“Hooyah, sir. We’re with you.”

“Good. Then let’s fly.”

The three ran for the chopper, but as they ran, Colonel Jenkins wondered why the rotors hadn’t begun churning yet. It wasn’t until they hopped inside that they received their answer.

“Masterson. Let’s get this thing airborne,” Colonel Jenkins spoke into the cockpit.

There was nothing but static dead air. Leaning forward, Colonel Jenkins crouched and stepped forward. Masterson slumped into the captain’s chair, unresponsive.

“Masterson?” Colonel Jenkins shook him, but nothing.

The infected man had torn at his throat, torn the life right out of him.

This left two questions hanging in the air. First, would Masterson change into one of those monsters? And second, who was going to fly the helicopter?

69

In the foothills of the Rocky Mountains

There was fresh morning dew on the ground, making the climb up the undulating earth slippery. Colt wished to remain in the cover of the trees, at least for now, at least until the glow of morning light.

It was sensible to hike back to the road, maybe find an abandoned vehicle that still had the keys inside and enough gas to make it to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex. Also, there was that small possibility someone would be searching for them, and they’d never be found walking beneath the canopy of trees in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. But bringing the boys close to the roadway would be risky, especially out in the open with the threat of the infected lurking around every corner.

Colt had always been great with directions and continued on their bearing for the outskirts of Colorado Springs. He didn’t know how far they’d travelled, at least not the exact distance from Woodland Park, but it didn’t matter, his mind was still consumed with the name Amy.

Anna, Who’s Amy? We don’t know anyone named Amy. Is this some kind of trick? Colt couldn’t know for certain, but his mind spun into tangled mess. Is it a warning? Should we stay away from someone named Amy? Is she who started this? Colt couldn’t rationalize, but maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe he needed to think harder. Only then would he come up with the answer.

But then Dylan chimed in as they hiked and shook his father from his thoughts. “Dad, I . . . I . . .” he stalled, as if he didn’t want to say more. This wasn’t the first time his son had been reluctant to speak. Usually it was followed by a confession, something Dylan knew was wrong. Some torment he’d inflicted on his little brother, or maybe trouble at school. But this was not that.

“What is it, son?”

“I saw Mom.”

One word stopped Colt dead. “What do you mean, you saw Mom?” Colt asked.

“I mean, I saw her. In my dream.”

Colt swallowed hard. “And what happened in your dream exactly?”

Dylan ate his words at first. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. “It was weird.”

“How so?” Colt lead the conversation to a deeper meaning.

“We were on a beach.”

Colt opened his mouth wide. He couldn’t believe it, could he and his son share the same dream? How could they? The beach Colt had seen Anna on was one from their past, before they’d had kids. On their honeymoon.

“One with white sand?”

“No.”

Colt leaned back. Wondering if maybe the dream was different than his own. “No?”

“The beach was at grandma and grandpa’s lake house in Minnesota.”

Colt was confused. Why had both of their dreams been of Anna on a beach? Was there a connection to water?

“And what were you doing at the lake house?”

“Chasing after mom. She kept running. I couldn’t catch her, and the beach went on forever.”

Are you kidding me? Dylan was describing everything he’d experienced. Something shot through Colt, and he grabbed his son. “What did she say?” He shook Dylan. “She said something to you, didn’t she?”

“Ow, Dad, you’re hurting my arm.”

Colt realized his grip was tight and ferocious. He let go immediately. “Oh, sorry.” When he let go, Colt turned back to face the journey ahead.

But then Dylan spoke and halted his steps before he could move.

“She said only one thing. A name.”

Colt dropped his head, and while he looked at the ground and faced away from his son, he filled in the blank.

“Amy.”

“Yeah. How’d you know?” Dylan said.

“Because I had the exact same dream.” Then Colt continued walking.

“Seriously?” Dylan jogged to catch his father.

“Yes.”

“Do you or Mom know anyone named Amy?” Dylan said.

“No. No one. Do you?” Colt looked to Dylan with hope. Maybe he knew.

“No. What do you think the dream means?”

“I don’t know, but I think it has something to do with these monsters that have been hunting us.”

“You do? How?”

“Can’t tell. Maybe the vice president has some theories.”

“You really think they’ll wait for us?”

“I sure as hell hope so, otherwise . . .” Colt stopped walking and turned around to wait for Wesley to catch up as he felt their pace quicken. But as he turned Wesley was nowhere in sight. Frantic, Colt spun, searching feverishly. “Didn’t I tell you to keep an eye out for your brother?” Colt looked to Dylan.

“Yeah, but I . . .” Dylan chased the words that evaded him.

Colt’s chest heaved. He couldn’t catch his breath. His eyes danced from tree to tree, he couldn’t yell—that would draw in the infected.

But there was no denying it: Wesley was gone.

* * *

Cheyenne Mountain Complex

Colonel Jenkins wasted no time as he moved around Masterson and began to unlatch his safety harnesses.

“What are you doing, sir?” Bald asked.

He didn’t answer. Not until he slid both arms out from underneath the harness. “Help me with him.” Colonel Jenkins pushed Masterson from the seat.

Masterson’s limp body fell into Drake’s waiting arms. Drake eyeballed Colonel Jenkins. “Drag him outside and away from the helipad. And put a bullet in his skull, just in case,” Colonel Jenkins instructed.

“Yes, sir,” Drake tightened his grip and struggled to drag Masterson’s limp corpse from inside the chopper.

Bald waited and watched as Colonel Jenkins took the open pilot’s chair. “What are you doing, sir?”

“What’s it look like?” Colonel Jenkins tried to remember the last time he flew. It had been almost ten years, but like most things in life, the memory only returns when forced into action.

“You know how to fly this thing?” Bald said.

“We’re about to find out, aren’t we?” He caught Bald’s eye and grinned, then faced the controls and flipped the power on, bringing the rotors to life. He lifted the headset over his head and looked out the window in time to witness Drake light up the darkness with a single shot.

When Drake jumped into the chopper, he lifted the headset and said. “It’s an honor to be flying with you, sir.”

Then Bald looked over at him and said, “You knew he could fly?”

“Damn right. He’s a legend. Haven’t you heard stories about him? Every MTI in the Air Force kissed his a—”

“Easy,” Colonel Jenkins cut him off. “Let’s not get carried away. Besides, I feel like I’ve got a lot to prove here. Let’s ease up on the pressure. Shall we?”

Bald turned to see the colonel’s face beaming with pride.

Once airborne, Colonel Jenkins steered north on the same heading from the previous day. “What do you say we head back up toward Woodland Park? Back up 24?”

“Don’t you think we oughta try south?” Bald suggested.

“I agree with Bald on this one, sir. We exhausted our efforts north yesterday, only to find nothing.”

“What about the restaurant we shot up? Infected were swarming that place like bees on honey.”

“You don’t actually think that was the family inside the restaurant, do you, sir?” Bald asked.

The air was static for a moment before Colonel Jenkins spoke again. “Actually, I do.”

Again, static until Drake spoke up. “Then by all means, sir, go with your gut. Besides, if this thing goes sideways, this will be your court martial after all.”

They couldn’t control their laughter until they hovered over Manitou Springs.

70

Cold air entered Colt’s lungs and burned as he huffed and desperately searched for Wesley. He had to be close. He was just there. Standing beside Dylan before he broke away and caught up to Colt to discuss their plan and the dream.

“Climb down the hill. See if you can find him,” Colt forced out a whisper.

Following Dylan and heading downward, Colt slipped on the muddy ground. He fell to his butt and let out a harrumph. Pain seared through his tailbone as he fell onto a jagged rock that stuck out from the dirt.

“Damned thing!” He stood and rubbed out the pain. As he hunted for any sign, the hardest part was keeping his emotions intact. All he wanted to do was yell into the trees and let Wesley know his father was there to protect him.

Colt jogged down the remainder of the hill, and as he did, he heard the trees sway in the wind. Leaves rustled in the early morning breeze just as orange and red hues grew over the tree line. The sunrise would give them the light they needed to find Wesley. However, it would be an advantage for the infected too.

Colt watched as Dylan sprinted from tree to tree, peering around every trunk for any sign. Suddenly a crack rang out from Colt’s left. His body froze in place, and he immediately looked to Dylan, making sure he did the same. Dylan hadn’t heard the rustling in the bush. Colt gritted his teeth and pushed out a sound only Dylan would understand. A sharp high-pitched whistle.

Dylan heard and spun. Colt opened his hand, alerting his son to hold fast. Then he swung his Browning from around his shoulder and took aim, waiting for something to reveal itself.

An oversized bush blocked Colt’s view from the approaching enemy, but soon the thing, the monster would show himself. But when he sighted down the length of the rifle, there was no monster on the other end of the barrel, but rather his son Wesley.

Colt dropped the barrel and ran to him and wrapped him in a tight embrace. “Wesley! What are you doing? Where did you go?” Colt’s words were short and panicked.

“I had to pee. I was going to tell you, but you told us we had to be quiet.”

Colt breathed a sigh of relief.

“Idiot.” Dylan shook his head with a disapproving eye roll.

“You can’t just wander off. I told you to stick to your brother’s side, and I meant it.”

“Sorry.” Wesley bowed his head in shame.

Perhaps Colt was being harsh. He had just forced Wesley awake. Maybe he hadn’t fully awoken yet.

“It’s okay, bud—” Colt began, but then his mouth was forced shut at the sound in the distance.

A roaring thud bounced off every tree in the forest. A clapping ensemble. The sound of churning rotors. A stitch twisted in Colt’s gut. It was hope. “Helicopter,” Colt said. “Run!”

Without thinking, Colt sprinted up the hill. There was a clearing over the top that led all the way to the US 24. If he hurried, maybe he could reach the clearing before the helicopter passed. But that would mean leaving his sons behind; neither could keep pace.

When Colt reached the precipice, he spun back around to see Dylan helping Wesley climb. They were too far off. He was about to speak, to tell them to hurry, but they were already doing their best. He spun toward the road that lay less than 1,000 feet away. He gritted his teeth, and his body wanted to move, but he couldn’t leave them behind. He turned and ran back down the hill.

When he reached them, Colt bent down and lifted Wesley, then nodded to Dylan. “Go on,” he said.

Climbing at a ferocious pace, Colt stayed on Dylan’s heels. When they reached the top again, the helicopter flew north in a blur. Colt set Wesley down and each of them waved and screamed. “Here! Down here!”

But of course, their scream fell deaf. At least to those inside the helicopter. But not on those of the infected.

* * *

The fast-food restaurant was just off the nose of the helicopter when Drake spoke over the headset, “Sir, you think this is a good idea? Aren’t these monsters attracted to sound?”

Colonel Jenkins peered over his shoulder to catch Drake’s eye. “That’s why you’re going to have to bust your ass into that restaurant and search the interior as quickly as possible.” Colonel Jenkins smiled, then looked over the nose as he lowered down to the road below.

“Bald. You offer him cover. Stay frosty and keep your head on a swivel. There’s no telling how many we might encounter,” Colonel Jenkins said. Once the skids touched the pavement, he shut down the rotors and killed the noise.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, sir,” Drake said, scooting toward the edge of the seat. He jumped down, and looked right, then left. There was no sign of movement anywhere. Bodies were strewn about in the roadway as he approached the restaurant, the same bodies he’d cut down the night before. He gave a fleeting glance back toward the chopper to see Bald drop out of the chopper and move in front of the nose.

The door of the restaurant was around the side, but it was blocked by a stack of at least three dead infected. A truck was parked there too. Parked with open doors. Poor schmucks left in a hurry, he thought as he walked around the bed.

When he reached the double doors of the entrance, he peered through the glass, making sure a surprise didn’t await him. He reached for the handle and swung the door open. But before he could enter, something in his periphery caught his eye. There was movement. He shot his gaze to the right and aimed his rifle toward the edge of the parking lot and at the tree line.

An infected woman exited the trees and took two steps toward him, but then stopped. Drake had her in his sights, but he didn’t pull, not yet. His shot could alert others. And what if he missed? Then another exited and stood by her side. Then another. And another. Until there was a line of over a dozen. He gulped the lump of spit that sat in his throat.

He was faced with a decision: turn and run to the chopper, dive inside the restaurant and take cover, or fight. But before he made that decision, Bald made it for him, “Drake! Get back to the chopper now!”

There was urgency in his voice. As soon as Drake spun, a single shot rang from behind him. His eyes widened when he witnessed what Bald was shooting at. The infected were rushing toward them from all directions. Surrounded by a sea of monsters, Colonel Jenkins fired up the rotors.

As Drake ran, he shouldered his rifle and fired shots of his own, which connected with the approaching infected. Once he was beyond the edge of the building, more rushed in, flanking the helicopters position. Drake fired more rounds. All of them connected, but only body shots. None put them down for good. Drake’s eye returned to see Bald aiming his rifle directly at him. What the hell is he doing? Bald sent a bullet spiraling directly at him. That was it, his death sentence, carried out by a friend. After all it was a better end than being killed by a mob of infected. But the shot wasn’t meant for him, but for the infected man who had jumped up from behind him. He had been hiding underneath one of the already deceased. They’d set a trap and waited to lure them in.

Colonel Jenkins lifted the skids from the ground even before Drake was aboard. Drake noticed it, and knew he’d be left behind if staying meant Bald and the colonel’s demise. Drake fired more rounds at the infected who were near the nose of the chopper. Two fell to the ground, but more climbed over the pile and reached for the chopper as they lifted from the blacktop.

Bald fired his own shots, dropping more, and keeping them at bay, which allowed Drake a chance to jump aboard. The helicopter hovered six feet above the ground when Drake leaped for the skid. He caught it and flung his right arm around it. He held on as the chopper rose even higher.

Drake sighed. He looked up to see his friend looking out from inside. He smiled at first, but soon realized he was not alone by the panicked look on Bald’s face. Drake glanced down to see a woman locked onto his leg, chomping through his flesh as they swayed above the ground.

As Drake watched, he felt the searing pain in his calf. Color left his face, and he stared up at Bald. The woman was strong and was climbing up Drake’s leg, gaining ground. When she reached his waist, Drake knew his fate was sealed. He grasped the skid, and shook his body, trying to drop her from her grasp, but she was too strong and unflappable. Drake couldn’t allow the infected woman to climb. He wouldn’t put his friends in danger if somehow Bald missed his shot and she reached the cockpit—not while he had the ability to take her out himself. He gave one last glance to Bald. Bald was swaying for a shot, but he couldn’t take it, not with the risk of catching his friend in the process. Drake looked at Bald and nodded, then screamed into the wind, howling as he let go, falling with the infected woman wrapped around his back to the earth below.

71

The helicopter might have flown past, but Colt wouldn’t give up chase or the hope they could catch it. With his sons by his side, they ran for US 24. There was gunfire in the distance, rapid shots in succession. It was the men in the chopper—had to be. Colt guessed they’d run into a sea of infected, maybe even at the restaurant five miles up the road in Woodland Park. He couldn’t know their location, but the echoing shots spurred them on.

Once their feet touched the pavement of the road, Colt led them north. It wasn’t very likely that they were headed directly toward the chopper, but he would not leave the road again, he wouldn’t make that same mistake again.

As they ran, Colt’s heart pumped wildly, and his legs burned. He couldn’t help but think Dylan and Wesley would be feeling the same discomfort. He was about to ask if they were okay when Colt heard something from far off. But the sound was no gunshot, but rather a screeching hiss.

“Boys! Stop!” Colt instructed.

They did. Colt’s eyes danced from tree to tree. From car to car. The infected were lurking, Colt knew it. He’d spent so many years being a hunter, but in this instance, he felt like the prey. The first infected man made himself known as he stepped out from behind a battered shack on the side of the road no more than 100 yards from their position.

Colt stepped in front of his sons to protect them in case the man made an attempt to chase them down. The infected didn’t move, at least not yet, not until another joined him. A young boy, maybe Dylan’s age. Then another, this time an even younger boy, matching Wesley in age.

Colt couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Was this a dream? Or some sick joke the infected were playing? The sight of the man and the two boys plagued Colt’s psyche. He found himself becoming angry. They were mocking him and his family. But how? How could these mindless infected beings collaborate? How could they come together and tug on his emotions? As much as Colt refused to admit it, these things were changing. Getting smarter. Joining forces with each other.

The infected children took their first step forward. That was Colt’s cue to turn and run. He spun, but on that first step, again they were forced to stop. Down the road, no more than fifty yards south of their position, another man stood with two boys by his side.

Colt whipped his head back around to see the other two boys hadn’t stopped their approach. Colt spun to the right, off the shoulder and into the distance of the opening they’d run from. He shook his head at the sight of another man and two boys. They were multiplying. Toying with Colt and his sons.

The infected all moved in on Colt and his boys. Helpless, they stood in the middle of the road. Colt shoved the stock of his rifle against his shoulder and aimed at the closest boy. He felt the cold trigger on his finger. It was ready to be squeezed. But as he peered down the sight, he saw Dylan’s face in the infected’s. He shook the vision from his mind and readjusted his eye. But again, it was Dylan he saw, not the mangled soulless face of an infected boy. He shifted his sight to the other boy, but this time he saw Wesley’s face.

Was he still dreaming? Had he, in fact, never woken up? Was this Anna’s warning? Or did the infected have control over his thoughts somehow? Were they projecting these images in his mind so he wouldn’t fire?

“Dad!” Dylan yelled. “What are you doing? Shoot!”

He couldn’t. His mind and his body were paralyzed. Paralyzed in fear at the thought of losing his sons.

* * *

Amongst the chaos, Colonel Jenkins spun the chopper around and flew south and along US 24, back toward Colorado Springs. His mind was filled with despair. Damnit, Drake. I didn’t ask you to come along. He couldn’t shake the feeling of hopelessness for his fallen man. It wasn’t his fault Drake had died, but this was his mission. Drake might have known the risk, but still . . . it didn’t take the sting away.

In his anger, Colonel Jenkins pushed the stick forward, lowered the nose, and sped back for Cheyenne Mountain Complex. When the nose of the helicopter dipped, he saw something he didn’t expect to see. He couldn’t be certain of what he saw, not until Bald confirmed.

“Bald, come up here.”

Without delay, Bald unstrapped from his belt and stepped into the cockpit. Both stared through the windscreen. On the ground, infected were closing in on one man and his two sons.

“Is that what I think it is?” Colonel Jenkins asked.

“Hard to tell from here, sir. It does look like a man and two boys.”

“That’s what I’m seeing too.”

“You think it’s the family we’re looking for?”

“Only one way to find out,” Colonel Jenkins said. “Either way, I’m not letting Drake die in vain. Let’s make this mission worth something.”

“Couldn’t agree more, sir.”

“Good. Then lock and load. Let’s light these bastards up.”

* * *

Colt was so wrapped in his own mind, that he didn’t hear the approaching helicopter. Not until Dylan shook him. When he looked up, he noticed the infected’s attention being drawn to the noise of the rotors.

Colt watched as the helicopter turned perpendicular to the road. One man hung out of the side of the chopper with his rifle raised. Colt couldn’t help but think of his brother Jake as he saw the man hanging there.

When the first shot rang out, the horde of infected screeched loud enough to be heard over the churn of rotors. The man by the shack dropped first. Then the two boys next to him. Colt couldn’t believe his eyes. He blinked slowly, watching the infected fall. Then he locked eyes with the man in the helicopter. He was waving furiously, calling them in.

Colt couldn’t see behind him, but if he turned, he would’ve recognized the airman’s urgency. The other group of infected were closing in.

Dylan led first, taking his brother by the arm and running for the chopper. Colt saw them running, which shook him from his trance. On his first step, he felt something from behind grab the cooler in his hand as it swung behind him. Colt looked down to see one of the boys, the youngest one of the infected, gripping the handle. He shook the handle, trying to rip it free, but the infected wouldn’t loosen his grip.

Colt glanced down at the infected, who snarled at him and tugged. His coal black eyes pierced through the deep blue of Colt’s. Instantly thoughts of Anna flashed through his mind. The eyes frightened him. But soon, all Colt would see was the whipping of the infected’s head followed by the mist of blood as the shot from the chopper punctured his skull.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other young infected closing in. Colt hefted the cooler and swung it at the infected’s head. He hit him in the face and sent him falling back off his feet. The falling infected child spurred the adult on as a louder screech rang in Colt’s ear. Without time to waste, Colt sprinted for safety.

Dylan and Wesley were already beside the chopper’s hatch. The military man was helping them inside. After lifting both boys in, he continued to wave Colt in. He was close, only a few steps away, but with each stride, the adult infected seemed to gain ground. The man in the chopper raised his rifle and aimed it at Colt. He was trying to get an angle, a shot at the approaching infected, but he didn’t pull the trigger.

The skids lifted from the ground as the pilot was preparing for take-off. Two more steps and Colt was there, but as he swung his right arm back in a sprint, again he felt a pull on the cooler. This time the grip was stronger and unrelenting. The strength slowed his path almost to a stop. He was so close to the chopper, and the airman was still aiming his rifle, waiting for a shot. Colt looked beyond the man and saw the fear in his son’s eyes. He had to let go of the cooler, he had to leap aboard. Colt opened his right hand, releasing the cooler, then jumped into the opening as the chopper rose from the ground. The airman squeezed his trigger and killed the infected before he could follow Colt aboard.

Colt wrapped his sons up in his arms and would not let go. Not after that.

The airman handed Colt a headset. Once it was over his ears, the airman said, “You’re safe now. You need to strap them in.” He nodded toward the harnesses and showed Colt how.

Once buckled, Colt leaned back against the seatback. “What’s your name?” A different voice came over the microphone.

“Colt Maddox.” He looked toward the cockpit.

“Welcome aboard, Mr. Maddox. Name’s Colonel Jenkins. Man back there is Bald.”

Colt breathed hard, pushing the heaviness of the situation aside. “Thank you for coming for us.”

“That’s not a problem. You were our mission,” Colonel Jenkins said.

“Your mission?” Colt didn’t fully understand.

“That’s right. We were given an order. An order from the president himself to find you and your family.”

Thank you, Jake. Colt knew his brother had come through.

“I’m just glad you found us in time. Another minute and we would’ve been . . . well, you know.”

“Me too. Me too,” Colonel Jenkins said.

“Are we going to Cheyenne Mountain?” Colt asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have communication there? With my brother? With the president?”

“I don’t know about your brother, but we do have communication with the president, yes.”

Colt held his breath. He had no idea if Jake was alive.

“By the way, what was in that cooler?” Bald asked.

Colt blinked slow and stared Bald as he held on to the side of the helicopter. “Beritrix.”

Bald nodded, but remained silent, knowing how important the medicine was.

Then Colonel Jenkins spoke. “Seems like everyone is after that.” His attempt at a joke.

Colt chuckled, but then thought to himself. Wait. Why did they go after the cooler? Did they know Beritrix was inside? Do they know it heals us? Keeps us from turning into . . . into those monsters? Jake, I sure as hell hope you have the answers, because if we don’t figure it out soon, these things are going to change into something smarter than you or I. And if that happens, God help us all.

72

Cheyenne Mountain Complex

When the helicopter touched down, Colt looked up and toward the sky. He couldn’t believe his eyes, couldn’t believe that the entrance to this place had been built inside the wall of rock. Colonel Jenkins stepped away from the cockpit and led the group toward the circular entrance.

“Dad, is that . . .?” Dylan began.

Colt knew where his questions was going. “Yes, son. That’s the city in the mountain.”

Anyone from Colorado knew the famed city. But it was an enigma, as most civilians weren’t allowed entry. Sure, there were tours one could take, but that wouldn’t offer the intelligence they were about to take in. And that prospect excited Colt, and Dylan too it seemed, even after the harrowing events of the day.

Twelve-foot chain-link fences topped with circular barbed wire protected the walkway from outside intruders. Colt studied the fences. They seemed secure, but he couldn’t help but wonder, if enough infected rushed, could they break through?

“The entrance is just ahead,” Colonel Jenkins said, walking through the arched wall of concrete.

When Colt entered, he stared up at the ceiling. The walk was strange, but not too different from any other tunnel he’d travelled through. Most closely related to the Eisenhower Tunnel. He’d travelled through that tunnel many times. It was the gateway to some of the best ski resorts in the entire state.

Deep inside the cavern, the natural light from the outside faded, and Colonel Jenkins flicked on his flashlight to guide their path. They came to an oversized steel door, one guarded by two men. Both saluted the Colonel, and he nodded. The two men stepped aside and allowed them to enter.

Colonel Jenkins proceeded further into the rock. Beyond the entrance, he shined the flashlight on the floor to illuminate their path. Colt guided his boys to walk closely behind the Colonel, making sure they could see where they were going.

Three-foot florescent bulbs flickered overhead. “You have power?” Colt wondered how.

“Generators.”

“Ah, got it,” Colt said, then looked to his left and wondered what lay beyond the darkness when the bulbs went dark. When light returned, he saw, the walls were made of granite, much like the rounded tunnel upon entry.

Colonel Jenkins stopped before entering a corridor. He shined the light ahead and stepped aside, allowing Colt’s family to enter first. When Colt passed, Colonel Jenkins walked in behind and said, “The vice president is awaiting your arrival. He’s in this room, here.” Colonel Jenkins moved toward a closed door.

Colt walked in first, and his boys were on their father’s backside. Multiple standing lamps were scattered around the room to provide just the right amount of light. The vice president met Colt in the middle of the room. “Mr. Maddox, I presume.” The vice president held out his hand for a greeting.

“Colt,” he said. “This is Dylan.” He touched his son’s head, and Dylan reached out his hand for an introduction.

“That’s quite a grip you’ve got there, son. That’s good. Strong like your old man.”

Colt smiled, then felt Wesley push against his side. “And this, this is Wesley.”

The vice president bent down to Wesley’s level and smiled, but Wesley just turned his face and buried it into his father’s leg. “C’mon now, bud, be polite.”

“It’s okay, Colt. I get what he’s going through. I’m just some stranger. I’m sure you’ve met your share of unsavory characters along the way.”

“You have no idea.”

“Tell you what, Wesley. Why don’t I have Colonel Jenkins here bring you and your brother to get some ice cream from our cafeteria?”

Wesley’s demeanor changed. His mouth widened into a smile. The first one his father has seen in three days. “You have ice cream?” Wesley jumped up and down.

“Of course. You think we wouldn’t be prepared? The military always has ice cream, especially in times of crisis.” The vice president stood tall and nodded to Colonel Jenkins.

Colonel Jenkins gathered both and left the room while the vice president took a seat at the table. “Please sit.” The vice president offered Colt a chair. “We’ve got plenty to discuss.”

Colt sat and waited with bated breath. Was there news of his brother? Was he alive? Where was he being held? Mostly though, he wanted answers as to what had happened. Why these things changed into what they’d become, why Anna had turned.

“Let me start by saying, I’ve been in contact with the president. He is currently staying at Mount Weather in Virginia along with other heads of state and some of the most brilliant scientists that remain alive. They are making steady progress of this crazy situation.”

“What do you know?” Colt wanted in-depth information, not vague description.

The vice president leaned onto his elbows, and his face turned serious. “There are infected at Mount Weather.”

“What do you mean, infected?”

“I mean, there are captured infected. Those scientists I spoke of are probing them for information as we speak.”

“What sort of information?”

“We’re looking for answers. What these things are. Why they’ve come.”

“Come? You mean they were sent here? Like from another planet?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“Again, we don’t understand everything at this point. We’re simply studying them.”

Colt let the words sink in. He couldn’t believe the possibility. Aliens?

“Which brings me to you and your boys,” the vice president said. “The President tells me you and your family are . . . special.”

“Special?” Colt was confused.

“That’s what the president tells me.”

“I . . . I wouldn’t consider myself special. I’m just a simple man from the mountains.”

“But, the president, he said you might be the missing link.”

“I think you’re mistaken, sir. I just have a brother who’s looking out for me.”

“Huh. That’s some brother. Must be in the president’s good graces. Nonetheless, it’s good to have you here.”

“I thank you for that. Another minute and my sons and I would’ve been overrun.”

“You can always count on those Air Force boys.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” Again, Colt thought of Jake saving lives. Deep down, he knew his little brother was a hero, even if he’d never seen him first-hand.

“Have you seen what these infected can do?” the vice president asked.

Colt laughed. “More than you know.”

“I figured as much. Have you seen them . . . evolve?”

Evolve? A word Colt hadn’t thought of using, not until the vice president led into it. The smile from Colt’s face disappeared as his mind transported him back to the road before the helicopter had arrived. Staring at the cluster of men and boys. Seemingly put there to mock him. To remind him he was alone. Then the infected had gone after the cooler. Like they knew the medicine was humanity’s only means of survival. “I can’t be sure, but yes. Since the beginning . . .” Then he thought of Anna. The way she’d rushed at him. Out of anger. Not calculation. “They have changed. Gotten smarter.”

The vice president sighed. “That’s what we’ve feared all along.”

Then there was silence. Neither spoke. In that silence, Colt was reminded of the dream. Did the vice president know the name? Was the name Amy important? Or was Colt being foolish? Was the dream senseless? It was of his dead wife. Deep down, though, Colt needed to get it off his chest. The dream bothered him. And Dylan had described something similar. Maybe it was a warning from Anna. A warning from beyond the grave.

“Does the name Amy mean anything to you?”

“Hmm. No. Don’t think so, why?”

Colt’s shoulders fell. “Oh, okay.” He’d hoped to get some clarification.

“Maybe we could . . .” The vice president stalled, then stood form his chair and walked into the belly of the room. With his back turned, he spoke again. “We can ask one of the infected.”

Colt shot from his chair. “What? How? What do you mean, ask the infected?”

The vice president spun back around and faced him. “I mean, we have our own subject here.”

Colt’s mouth fell open. “What do you mean, you have your own subject?”

“Some scientists accompanied us from California. Some of our top west coast minds. They are with the subject as we speak. Would you like to see her?”

“Her?”

“Yeah, her. They found her not far from here. Wandering alone in the mountains. Our scientists were out scouting for an infected they could get their hands on, and they brought her back here.”

“I . . . I don’t know if I can.”

The vice president paused. “That’s fine, I don’t blame you. Ugly things, these infected. But maybe she could shed some light on this Amy character.”

“You think?”

“Never know. The president has told me we’ve been able to communicate with the infected at Mount Weather. At the time I last spoke with him, I didn’t ask him what the infected said, or what we’ve told them, but I know there has been some communication.”

“Um, well, if you think it could help.”

“I have no doubt.”

The vice president turned to leave the room, and Colt followed, but before they exited, Colt spoke, “Have you heard any news from my brother? From Jake Maddox?”

The vice president’s face fell. “I’m sorry, I have not.”

Air left Colt’s lungs, but he remained hopeful. He knew his brother was still alive. Jake was tough, and nearly impossible to kill. “If you hear from him . . .” Colt began.

The vice president finished his sentence, “You’ll be the first to know. Now let’s go see that infected.”

73

Once they exited the room, another guard was standing there, one who would accompany them, act as secret service to the vice president. Colt glanced at the man when they exited. He was well built and had a stern gaze.

As he walked along with the vice president, Colt asked. “Are you sure my boys won’t be any trouble?”

“Nonsense. Colonel Jenkins can handle them. I’m sure of it.”

Colt huffed, then said. “They’ve been through quite a lot.”

“We all have,” the vice president said.

Colt realized he was being selfish. All he could think about was Anna and what the boys must be feeling. He didn’t have the time, nor the luxury, to think about anyone else and what they’d lost. “Did you . . .” Colt waited for the vice president to look his way. “Lose anyone?” Colt finished.

The vice president refocused his attention ahead and waited a moment, perhaps to hold his emotion inside. “A son, grandson, and daughter-in-law.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry, son. We’ve all lost.”

At his words, Colt fell silent. At least he wasn’t going to lead the conversation. Instead, he paid more attention to their walk and the scientific infrastructure of the complex. More rock arced above as they walked. Soon they came upon a doorway. The guard stopped and allowed the vice president to enter first.

“She’s just through here.” The vice president stepped ahead.

A knot formed in Colt’s stomach. He was nervous. He didn’t know how he would react to seeing an infected woman in a controlled environment. So far, his interactions with them had not been savory. He breathed deep and followed the vice president.

Three people stood against a wall of glass. Each wore a white lab coat. Colt’s eye moved to what was beyond the glass. The infected woman was laying down with leather straps locked over her chest and thighs.

Each scientist leaned over a set of gauges and controls when a loud beep caught Colt’s attention, then his eye. He looked to the corner of the room where the woman’s vitals were registering on a computer screen.

“Everyone, I’d like to introduce someone,” the vice president interrupted. All three scientists turned in unison. “This is Colt Maddox.”

Colt nodded. “Hi.”

“Colt, this is Dr. Bradley Jones, our lead scientist.” The vice president motioned to the man on the left.

Colt shook his hand, then the vice president continued. “Mr. Maddox here has something he’d like to ask the infected woman.”

Stunned, the scientists wondered what the vice president could possibly be talking about. Why was Colt brought in? What was so special about him?

Colt proceeded to the center of the room to speak as the scientists took their seats and studied him.

“Well . . . I . . . uh, don’t know where to start.” He stumbled. The knot was even tighter now. They’re going to think I’m crazy, he thought to himself. He stalled, waiting, as if the name would automatically burst out of him. Breathe. Just say it. “This is probably going to sound crazy, but . . . I had a dream.”

“You had a dream?” Dr. Jones asked.

“That’s right.”

“What was the dream about?” Dr. Jones suggested Colt continue.

“I was dreaming of my . . . well my wife.”

“She was infected?” Dr. Jones deciphered.

“That’s right,” Colt spoke again. “But in the dream, I was chasing her on a beach—one we went to on our honeymoon.” Colt looked to each scientist. He could tell he was losing their attention and interest in the story. He rushed to the point. “I chased her for a long time. Then her body turned. Well, she turned into an infected. Like I saw her do in our bathroom two days ago. Her spine dotted black from the base of her back to the nape of her neck. When she looked at me, her eyes were no longer sea green; they were vacant black bulbs. Then she spoke. Not a screech, only one word.”

Dr. Jones leaned forward on his chair in anticipation. “What word?”

“It was a name actually. The name Amy.”

He said it like it was supposed to mean something. Dr. Jones glanced at the other two scientists. Both shrugged. They had no idea. “Which means, what?” Dr. Jones said.

“At first, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but when I awoke, my oldest son came to me and described to me in detail an identical dream he had that same night.”

Nobody spoke. Colt shifted in place, uncomfortable where he stood. The vice president could see the tension in the room, so he stepped forward and said, “I told, Mr. Maddox here I would run it by you, maybe even the infected woman. Have you had any verbal communication with her yet?”

Dr. Jones leaned back in his chair, then pushed up to his feet. “We’ve spoken to her from here. Through the speaker.” Dr. Jones nodded to the corner of the room inside as Colt and the vice president stepped forward to the glass.

“Have you had any luck?” the vice president said.

“No, sir. We’ve talked to her. Used a sequential set of beeps. Ambient noise. You name it, we’ve probably tried it. Nothing seems to create any sort of sensation inside of her head. No raise in heartrate. Body temperature, nothing.”

“Interesting,” the vice president said. Everyone remained silent for a moment before the vice president spoke again. “What if we try the name, Amy?”

Dr. Jones eyed the vice president, then Colt. His face told them he didn’t have much faith. “I guess we can. Gretchen, do you mind?” Dr. Jones looked to one of the other scientists.

“Not at all,” she said.

Gretchen reached forward and typed into the keyboard. She tapped a few buttons, then said, “In five seconds, we’ll be live. It takes a moment for the technology to catch up. Now that we’re back in the dark ages.” Gretchen grinned.

Colt smiled back, then looked back to the infected woman. It was the first time that he’d noticed she was mostly nude, aside from pair of white underwear. Colt refocused on the infected’s head out of respect. But upon studying her from behind the glass, Colt scrunched his brow and leaned forward. She was familiar. Something about her. But it was difficult to decipher from that far away. Until he continued down her body. Once his gaze met her ankle, his heart stopped, and his mouth gaped. He shook his head and blinked his eyes numerous times. He couldn’t believe it. On the infected woman’s left ankle was a marking. A tattoo with three letters.

C.J.M.

Which aptly stood for Colton. Joseph. Maddox.

The infected woman was Anna.

74

The vice president could see the shock lingering on Colt’s face as he stepped away from the glass. “What is it?” he said.

“That’s my wife.”

Everyone in the room whipped their heads back around to look at the infected woman. They watched as her chest rose and fell and her breathing turned from shallow to rapid. In the shock, none remembered the microphone had been left on. It seemed at Colt’s voice, her heart rate quickened, and she shuddered.

“That’s incredible,” Dr. Jones said with his hand over his mouth.

But Colt didn’t find this scenario incredible in the least. Although surreal, this experience was torture. There she was, his wife, his Anna strapped down to a gurney. Sedated. Held against her will to become what, some science experiment?

“I need to get in there.” Colt stepped toward the door.

“No. You can’t.” Dr. Jones broke away from his position by the glass and cut off Colt’s path.

Adrenaline coursed through Colt’s veins. He clenched his fist and gritted his teeth. “I would advise you step aside.” His tone was harsh.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble.” Dr. Jones held up his hand to deflect Colt’s advance.

Then the vice president joined the doctor by his side. “I agree with Dr. Jones. I don’t think it’s wise for you to enter that room, Mr. Maddox.”

“That’s my wife in there.” Colt straightened his arm and pointed through the glass.

“I know, Colt.” The vice president placed his hand on Colt’s chest. “But I believe what Dr. Jones is trying to say is we don’t know how she will react to having you there. We’ve already seen a spike in her vitals when you spoke. If you enter . . .” the vice president waited.

“If I enter, what?” Colt wanted to know.

Then Dr. Jones filled him in. “You might kill her.”

“What? How can you know that?” Colt said.

“We don’t, but . . . she is the only captured infected we have. If we lose her, we’re going to be back at square one,” Dr. Jones said.

Colt peered back at Anna. It seemed her breathing had calmed. But why? Frantically, he searched the faces of the scientists for an answer.

“I turned off the speaker,” Gretchen said, maybe reading through the lines.

Then the vice president continued. “And you said it yourself, Colt, these things are evolving. Using our weaknesses against us. Do you really think it will be easier for us to catch one alive now?”

His point was clear. Maybe the clearest of all.

Then Gretchen moved beside Colt and said, “Why don’t we try asking her about Amy? Maybe that will elicit some other response.”

Colt swallowed his pride and nodded to her. Each man moved back to their original position, and Gretchen returned to the microphone.

“Wait,” the vice president said. “Maybe we should have somebody else say it. If Colt says the name, how are we supposed to know if she has a reaction to Colt’s voice, or the name?”

“Excellent point,” Dr. Jones said. “Any volunteers?”

“I’d love to have that opportunity,” Gretchen said.

“Excellent.” Jones nodded to Gretchen. She pushed a few buttons, and after a five-second delay, she said, “Amy.”

Anna’s reaction forced them all backward. She screeched, and her chest rose from the metal at least as high as the strap would allow. Her pained scream lasted only a few seconds, but seemed like an eternity. After the shriek, her body shook, then fell limp, and her heart stopped. The familiar sound of a long beep echoed in the observation room.

Before Colt could say anything or even move a muscle, Dr. Jones sprinted through the door and into the lab. Everyone watched through the glass as Dr. Jones ripped the defibrillator from the wall, seized it out of the bag, and charged the device. They could all hear the instructions being offered from the machine. Dr. Jones placed the electrodes in the correct positions and waited for the instruction to deliver the shock.

Tears fell from Colt’s eyes as he looked on. How could he lose her? How could he lose Anna again? Her body leaped from the table upon the first shock. Still there was no heartbeat. More tears fell. Dr. Jones shocked her again. But again, nothing.

The vice president rested his right hand on Colt’s shoulder. There for comfort. He watched again as Dr. Jones shocked her a third time.

They waited . . . and waited . . .

Then a low, subtle beep. Her pulse was weak, but there. Hope flashed across Colt’s face. Then joy as her heartrate climbed and became stronger. Each person in the room clapped in acknowledgement. And through glassy eyes, Colt smiled at Dr. Jones through the glass, thanking him for bringing his wife back, even if she was only a semblance of what she used to be.

When Dr. Jones returned to the observation room, Colt wrestled him into a hug. Dr. Jones didn’t know how to react to the unexpected show of gratitude, but soon hugged him back.

During their embrace, Colonel Jenkins entered and cleared his throat. “Mr. Maddox. Your sons have been asking about you. Wesley is still a little frightened about everything.”

Colt pushed out of the hug and wiped the tears away from his face. He couldn’t have his sons see him so vulnerable. They’d ask questions about why he was crying, what had sent him into a state of emotion. He took one last look at Anna, then departed with Colonel Jenkins in search of them.

Colonel Jenkins led Colt to a room designed for stay. Two bunks were pushed against the wall, and a small coffee table sat in the center of the room with only two chairs. Both boys were there, finishing what was left of their ice cream cones.

“Daddy,” Wesley ran to his father and gripped him tight.

“Easy, buddy.” It was as if Wesley hadn’t seen his father in days.

“Take your time here,” Colonel Jenkins said. “We’ll come find you when it’s time to go.” Then Colonel Jenkins spun and began to walk out of the room.

“Wait.” Colt made Wesley let go as he turned to face Colonel Jenkins. “What do you mean, time to go?”

Colonel Jenkins was thrown by the question. “I thought the vice president told you. We’re set to move soon. Set to fly to Virginia and meet with the president at Mount Weather.”

Colt fell silent. He didn’t know what to say. Of course, that was the plan. He knew Jake might be there, but how could he leave now? With Anna here. He couldn’t leave her again.

Colonel Jenkins left Colt standing in the silence to ponder his thoughts. No more than fifteen seconds had passed before there was a knock on the door.

“Mr. Maddox,” the man said. But Colt didn’t hear. His voice was muffled as Colt remained dazed. “Mr. Maddox.” He leaned into his field of vision.

Colt shook out of his trance and said, “Yes?”

“The vice president wanted me to come and find you.”

“Okay.”

“He wanted me to tell you, sir. It’s your brother.”

“Jake?!” His voice went up. “Yes! What about him?”

“He’s safe. At a university. In Cincinnati.”

“Cincinnati?”

“Yes, sir. Would you like to contact him?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then follow me.”

Colt walked out of the room, then immediately returned. “Dylan, look after your brother. “You’re in charge.”

“Ah, man,” Wesley reeled.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. I have to go talk with your Uncle Jake.”

Now it was Dylan who was unhappy. “Dylan, you hear me?” Colt made sure Dylan was paying attention.

“Argh, yes,” he sounded annoyed.

Colt nodded then left, but as he followed the man, he heard Dylan, say, “When are we going to get out this place?”

Which left Colt to ponder his son’s hatred for the underground complex. If they did stay, what would Colt tell them? Would they be forced to live underground forever? At least until the US government figured out a way to defeat the infected or find a cure. How long could Colt keep this secret? If they found out about the scientists studying Anna like an animal how would they react?

Deep down, Colt knew life was on the outside of those protected walls. But he’d have to fight with himself to understand their reason for leaving, perhaps, be persuaded.

75

“It’s just through here,” the man stepped aside and allowed Colt to enter.

The room looked similar to the one in which he’d met the vice president for the first time. An oversized table sat in the center with seats pushed in tight. He confused the room at first for that very same room, but there was a contraption pushed against the back wall—a large rectangular box sitting atop a desk. A man sat beside the desk, twisting the knobs and holding a headset against one ear. It didn’t take long for him to notice Colt.

He rushed over and said, “Ah, Mr. Maddox. My name is Cecil. The vice president told me you were trying to reach your brother. He knew I was in contact with a few members of our government, but didn’t know I was also in contact with a university in Ohio. The University of Cincinnati. I’ve been told your brother is there. Would you like to make contact?”

Elated, Colt said. “Yes! Please!”

“Great. Follow me.”

Colt dragged an extra chair from the table beside Cecil, then turned his attention to the radio.

“This thing is huge.” Colt’s eyes danced around the contraption.

Cecil leaned over the desk and rotated different switches until the static ceased and the line went clear. He glanced over his shoulder at Colt and asked if he was ready. He scooted forward on his chair and nodded.

“Good. Press the button down here to speak,” Cecil said. “I’ll hail them first to get their attention. Once your brother comes on, I’ll give you some privacy, sound good?”

Again, Colt nodded in agreement. “Bengal Tiger, this is the Falcon, you copy over?”

It didn’t take more than one second for them to respond on the other end. “Loud and clear, Falcon, go ahead, over.”

“I have a special guest with me today. Can you find the Delta for us?”

Colt wondered why Cecil was using such cryptic language, but didn’t deem it necessary to probe.

“Copy that, Falcon. I’ll get him now.”

“Roger,” Cecil said, then stood from his chair.

Colt looked up to him from his seated position, smiled, and said, “Thank you.”

“You bet. Just go ahead and leave whenever you’re finished here.” Cecil turned and left.

“Colt! Colt! Is that you, are you really there?” Jake said.

“Yes, Jacob, it’s me.”

“Oh, thank God. I . . . I didn’t know if you and the boys made it.”

“By the skin of our teeth, little brother. But yes, we made it.”

“So you’re in the complex right now?”

“Yeah, we arrived this morning.”

“What’s it like?”

Instinctively, Colt looked around the room, at the rocky walls. “Dark,” was the only thing he could think to say.

Laughter burst over the speaker. “That’s it? Dark?”

But Colt didn’t elaborate on the interior, instead he cut to the point. “Jacob, I need to tell you something. Something severe.”

“I imagine it’s not as intense as the things I’ve seen.”

“Maybe not. But it’s personal.”

“Personal? What do you mean?”

“Anna. She’s . . . she’s alive.”

Jake delayed for a second, then said. “Wait, what?”

“She’s here. In a lab. They’re studying her.”

“How? I mean, I thought you said she . . .” Jake trailed off.

“I did. I thought she’d . . .” Now it was Colt who couldn’t find the words. Then he continued. “The vice president said they found her wandering alone in the mountains not far from here.”

“Holy shit, Colt, that is severe. What are you going to do?”

“What can I do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I think we need to stay with her.”

Silence lingered. “I don’t want to sound insensitive, Colt, but are you sure that’s a good idea?” Colt stayed silent. And Jake continued, “What about the boys, do they know?”

“No.”

“Are you planning on telling them?”

“No.”

“Then there’s no way you can stay.”

“Why not?” Colt didn’t fully understand his brother’s insistence.

Then Jake continued, “I imagine that place isn’t as big as a real city.”

“Well, no, not that I’ve seen.”

“Then they will find out eventually, either by some idiot shooting his mouth off, or worse, they’ll stumble upon her body themselves. Of course, the latter would be far worse. You need to get out. Get here, help me, help us find a cure for this epidemic. That’s the best way you can help Anna. There’s nothing else you can do for her there.”

Colt knew his brother spoke truth about everything. But the idea of leaving stung.

“Have you heard anything from the president?” Colt changed the subject.

“My contact Emily is with him now.”

“What’s happened? Have they made any breakthroughs?”

More silence.

“Jacob? Did I lose you? You there?”

“I’m here, Colt.”

“Did you hear me?”

“I did. I just don’t know how much we want to say over the radio in case . . .”

“In case, what?” Colt said.

“Someone is listening.”

“Who would be listening?” Colt asked.

“The enemy.”

Colt gulped. Then got quiet. “Are you serious, they can do that?”

“We don’t know yet, but . . . we can’t be too careful.”

“So that’s what you’ve discovered? They may be listening?”

“No. There’s more.”

“How much more.”

“A lot.” Again, Jake remained vague.

“That doesn’t help me, I need answers. And I expected my own brother to be more frank with me.”

“Sorry, Colt. I will once we’re together again, I swear it. That’s why it’s imperative you leave the complex. Get to the president.”

“That’s your plan, then?”

“It is.”

“How are you going to manage that? Do you have a chopper?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“You remember when we were kids?”

“Of course,” Colt said.

“The river.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

“That’s going to be risky, Jacob.”

“I know, but it’s the best plan we have.”

Colt sighed. “Just be careful.”

“Always the older brother,” Jake teased. “Trying to parent me, like you have our entire lives.”

“That’s because I care about you.”

“And I you, Colt. So get your ass out here so we can figure this out together.”

Colt dropped his head. He knew what had to be done. He had to leave Anna again. Help Jake and find the cure. “Okay, Jacob, you win. We’ll be on the first chopper out. I think it’s leaving in an hour.”

Jake clapped and cheered on the other end. “Damn right. I knew you’d come to your senses.”

“I just need to see her one last time, to say goodbye.”

“I get that, Colt. Do you what you have to do, but don’t miss that chopper, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, little brother. Until we meet again.”

“It’s damn good to hear your voice again, Colt. I’ll see you soon.”

“Yes, you will. That’s a guarantee.”

“Alright, brother, over and out.”

76

As Colt wandered through the maze of the complex, making his way to the lab where Anna was being held, he stumbled upon Colonel Jenkins.

“Good to see you again, Colt. Did the boys get squared away?”

“They did.”

“Excellent. The vice president wanted me to find you.”

“What for?” Colt said.

“He wanted me to let you know the helicopter will be taking off in twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes?!” Colt raised his voice, but hadn’t meant to.

“That’s right. Is there a problem?”

“No . . . I uh, it’s just, I thought we’d have a little more time, that’s all.”

“Oh, well, I can see if we can adjust our departure with the vice president.”

“No. Don’t bother. We’ll be ready.”

“Roger that. Just make your way back to the entrance of the complex. Can you remember how to get back there?”

“Uh.” Colt looked around and pointed in the wrong direction. Clearly, he had no idea.

Colonel Jenkins spun Colt around while he kept his arm raised and pointed him in the right direction. “That way.”

“Ah, got it. Speaking of directions, can you steer me toward the lab? You know, where the scientists are working on the infected woman?”

“I’m surprised you want to see another one. After all you’ve been through.”

Clearly, Colonel Jenkins hadn’t been briefed that the infected woman was indeed Colt’s wife. “Yeah, well. You know.” Colt wasn’t about to tell him. Wasn’t about to open the emotional rollercoaster that was sure to follow.

“Tell you what, how ‘bout I bring you there myself.”

“That would help. And save me some time.” Colt smiled.

“You were close, it’s just around the bend.”

Colonel Jenkins led Colt ahead. Colt tried to fill the silence with small talk. “How long will the flight to Mount Weather take?” Colt asked.

“Well we won’t be able to fly directly to Virginia. The chopper only has a about a 600-mile range. We’ll have to refuel somewhere around Kansas City.”

“Will that be possible? In the current state of things?”

“Hopefully.”

Hopefully? That doesn’t sound promising.

“Ah, here we are,” Colonel Jenkins said.

“Thank you, sir.”

“No problem. Remember. We’re in the air in about fifteen.”

“Yes, sir.”

Colt entered the observation room. Two of the scientists remained, both watching Dr. Jones, who was inside the lab with Anna. Colt stalled by the door, unwilling to interrupt in case they were doing something important. It wasn’t until Gretchen saw him standing there that he made his presence known.

“I’m sorry, I . . . I just wanted to say goodbye.”

Gretchen stood tall and said, “No need to apologize. Please come in.”

Colt pushed into the center of the room and peered through the glass. He was surprised when Gretchen pushed the button to speak. “Dr. Jones, Mr. Maddox is here. He will be leaving the complex soon and would like to say goodbye.”

Colt thanked Gretchen with a smile and a nod. Dr. Jones spoke over the speaker. “Absolutely, take your time.”

As Dr. Jones walked out of the room, Gretchen instructed Colt, “If you wish to speak to her, press this button here.” Gretchen pointed to a circular red button on the switchboard, then lifted her belongings and brushed Colt on his shoulder with her hand as she passed and offered a sympathetic smile.

Anna lay still and was breathing normally again. Colt didn’t want to send her into a fit, so he refrained from speaking over the microphone, but stepped to the glass getting as close as he could. “Anna, babe. I’m so sorry.” His lip quivered, and tears welled in his eyes. “I talked to Jake. I’m . . . I’m going to meet him in Virginia. That means I need to leave you, but you’re in good hands. The scientists here will take good care of you.” He spoke to her like she could hear him. She couldn’t, but Colt needed to get this off his chest. For himself, if nobody else. “Jake and I will find a cure. I promise you that, and when we do, we’ll come back, and I will make damn certain the doctors administer the cure with precision and accuracy. You will be you again, I promise. You’ll come back to me, and our family will be whole. We’ll be back to normal.” Tears streamed down both cheeks now, and Colt wiped them away. He glanced to his watch. “It’s time for me to go now, babe. I’ll be back, I promise. I’ll see you soon. Keep fighting. Keep fighting for me. And for the boys.”

Colt spun away from the glass before he lost it completely. Again, he needed to face his sons. He needed to seem strong in their delicate state.

As Colt walked, he hesitated in the hallway. From outside the door, he could hear his sons fighting. They were at each other’s throats, which brought a smile to Colt’s face. He didn’t know why, but in that moment, he felt a sense of regularity return. He’d heard them scuffle for years. The sound was music to his ears, and he didn’t want to interrupt, but knew he had to. To let his sons know they’d be leaving on the first chopper out of there.

“Boys!” Colt said, and both stopped fighting immediately, facing their father when he entered the room. Colt’s harsh tone changed as he smiled. For the first time in three days, Colt felt relief. Like life was going to be okay. Like everything would work out in the end. He didn’t know why, or where the feeling came from, but it lived inside of him. “Get your stuff together. We’re going to go see your Uncle Jake.”

“What? Seriously? That’s amazing,” Dylan said. “I can’t stay here any longer. It’s so claustrophobic in here.”

Colt had empathy. “I feel you there, kid. This place, is . . . well, it’s not home is it?”

Wesley stepped near the wall where a travel game of battleship lay. “Can I bring this with?” Wesley said, hoping they’d get to play. “Can I? Can I?”

“Oh, buddy, I don’t know when we’d . . .” Wesley’s head dropped. This was no time to fight this battle. If the game made Wesley feel normal, why not let him take it? “You know, sure, go ahead and take it.”

“Really? Can I?”

“Sure, bud.”

He ripped the game from the shelf and joined Dylan by his father’s side. “You boys ready for another helicopter ride? You ready to go see Uncle Jake?” Colt fluffed Wesley’s hair.

“Whatever gets me out of here,” Dylan said with a huff.

“That’s the spirit!” Colt playfully slapped his son on the shoulder before leaving the room.

At the entrance, Colonel Jenkins, the vice president, Bald, and one other were waiting. “There you are. This is Mark Joyner. The president’s chief of staff, he’ll be joining us on the chopper.” The vice president nodded to the other man.

Colt nodded, but let the vice president continue.

“You boys ready for another helicopter ride? I’ve only heard stories of how good a pilot, Colonel Jenkins was back in the day.”

“We can attest to that,” Colt said, smiling as they approached.

“Well then, let’s go!” he said.

The men walked through the half-moon entrance. Once the main door was opened, natural light poured in, guiding their path outside. As they rounded a subtle turn, the road that led out of the complex sloped downward. Colt hadn’t noticed it before, but the road led to another gate—one that needed to be opened so vehicles leading out of the complex could access the main road. He stopped moving at the sight of infected plastered against the fence.

“Wait!” Colt warned.

The vice president and the rest of the men spun around. “What is it, Mr. Maddox?” the vice president said.

“The infected. They’re . . . they’re, behind the fence.”

All looked to the end of the road.

“What, them?” Colonel Jenkins said. “They’ve been there for three days. No need to worry.”

It was true. They were far off, maybe two hundred yards or so. And the fence they were standing behind stood nearly twenty feet high with barbed wire wrapped around the top, much like the fence that paralleled the street on both sides.

“The helipad is just over there.” Colonel Jenkins pointed to his left.

Every man followed his gaze toward the chopper. It was sitting there, waiting to be lifted into the air. To carry its cargo far away.

But before any man could take another step, the unmistakable sound of a car horn echoed throughout the canyon.

“What the hell is that?” Colonel Jenkins said.

Everyone’s attention shifted to the madman speeding through the mass of infected just beyond the closed gate.

“Stop!” Colonel Jenkins yelled out.

But the car didn’t stop. It gathered speed as it came closer to the entrance of the gate.

Colt stepped backward, shuffling his sons behind him, expecting the worst. Bald raised his rifle. “Get behind me, sir.” Colonel Jenkins pushed the vice president behind him, likewise expecting the worst.

Bodies of the infected bounced off the cars bumper as the driver proceeded.

“Colonel,” Bald started.

“What is it, Bald?”

“You recognize that car?”

Colonel Jenkins strained to see. He couldn’t believe his eyes. “No way. You’ve got to be kidding me. Is that?”

“I believe it is, sir.”

“Redding.” Colonel Jenkins shook his head from side to side.

“Apparently he wasn’t too happy with me shooting his buddy Gunderson. Or the fact we didn’t make room for him on the chopper.”

“And now what? He wants to get back at us? Become a meal for the infected? Can you take him out?”

Bald stared through his scope. “Negative, sir. Not from here. I’ll have to wait until he gets closer to the gate.”

The car bowled through the masses, but as it proceeded, a swarm of infected formed behind the car and followed behind its bumper, chasing him down.

“Take the shot! Now, Bald!” Colonel Jenkins yelled.

Bald squeezed the trigger and as the shot spiraled through the air, Colt stood high on his toes to watch the bullet’s path. The shot contacted the windshield and shattered it, but the car didn’t slow, not nearly enough. The front end pierced the gate and rattled it inward, but it didn’t break.

Frozen in place for the moment, the group stood still. But only until the upsurge of infected climbed the roof of the car and, with their momentum and strength, pushed inside the fence. When the first infected dropped from atop the car and onto the roadway that led to the main entrance of the complex, Colonel Jenkins turned around and yelled, “Run!”

77

At Colonel Jenkins’ command, Colt lifted Wesley into his arms. His first step was back toward the gate, but he stopped when Colonel Jenkins yelled, “Can’t go that way, Mr. Maddox. The gate is sealed. We need to make for the chopper.”

Colt altered his path and spoke down to Dylan. “Follow them, and hurry!”

Dylan did as he was told. Colt was quick on his heels and didn’t dare look behind him. He couldn’t, not if he wanted to make short work of the ground they needed to cover to reach the helipad.

As they ran, Colt heard the booming screeches from the infected. Men, women, and children leapt from the roof and hood of the car. One by one the infected chased after Colt and the others as they made their way toward the waiting chopper.

Colt saw Colonel Jenkins hop into the pilot’s chair. He was the first to enter, followed closely by the vice president and chief of staff. Bald stood guard, aiming his rifle toward the gate, back at the infected who were closing in on their position.

Bald squeezed the trigger of his automatic rifle and fired numerous shots that whizzed past Colt and the boys as they ran. Dylan reached the chopper before Colt, and he didn’t hesitate. He leaped into the cargo bay and turned for his brother. After unloading Wesley from his arms, Colt joined Bald, spinning his rifle that was slung across his chest.

Bald witnessed Colt come near and nodded to him. In between shots, he heard the rotors begin to churn overhead.

Finally! Let’s get this thing airborne and get out of here, Colt thought. Quickly, though, he realized Bald wasn’t moving from his position. Why isn’t he moving? How long does this thing take to warm up? Colt didn’t know that Colonel Jenkins would need at least sixty seconds to get the chopper airborne.

With each passing second, the infected multiplied. Once Colt’s rifle was empty, he had the sinking feeling they would be overrun. Bald couldn’t have many shots left in his magazine either. Sure, he had multiple extra magazines, but he’d have to reload, and the infected were gaining ground.

“I’m out,” Colt said.

“Do you have a sidearm?” Bald looked up from the stock and asked.

Without responding Colt turned to Dylan. “Grab the Glock from your bag.”

Dylan ripped his bag open and handed the handgun to his father. Colt stared down the sight as he held the weapon away from his body. With his right arm almost fully flexed, he got an infected in his sights and pulled the trigger just as Bald’s magazine reached empty. Colt glanced at him as he dropped the magazine from the rifle, reached for his side, and shoved in another. In awe of his professionalism and extreme skill, Colt thought of Jake again. But his thought quickly faded when he saw an approaching infected. A woman. She was close, nearly ten feet away. Colt lifted the Glock and put her down.

“Uh, Colonel, they’re getting closer. We need to get out of here,” Bald’s voice shook, but with the reverberating rotors, there was no way the colonel could hear him.

Colt found another target. They were getting close now, within six feet. That was when Colt felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun to see fear in the vice president’s eyes as he waved Colt inside. Colt hopped on the side of the chopper, as did Bald, both still aiming over the edge and firing into the crowd of swarming infected.

With each dropping body, they got closer.

Five feet.

Then three.

Then two.

Finally, as the helicopter lifted from the ground, an infected man leaped for the skid. He held on tight and flailed his feet. Colt looked down to see his gnashing teeth and the pus dripping from his open mouth until Bald aimed and fired a round through his head. Colt watched the infected man fall into the awaiting arms of the swarm below.

Colt sighed and pushed himself into the cockpit. He put a headset over his ears and caught Bald’s eye. “That was close,” Colt said.

“Nah, we had ‘em all along.” Bald chuckled.

“Great shooting, gentleman,” the vice president said.

“Man’s a natural,” Bald nodded to Colt.

“Just got lucky, I think.”

“Luck or not, you boys saved our lives,” the vice president said.

Colt nodded to the vice president, then sat down hard next to his son’s. He wrapped them close in his arms, knowing once again the hardships they continued to endure with each passing minute of this new world.

Once airborne, Colonel Jenkins pointed the nose north and said. “Sit back and enjoy the ride, fellas. We’ll be in Kansas City in no time.”

As Wesley and Dylan pressed into their father, Colt’s thoughts returned to Anna. Would the infected breach Cheyenne Mountain? Could they? But then he felt a momentary moment of calmness wash over him when he remembered what he’d heard about the city in the mountain. Cheyenne Mountain Complex was a fortress. Nearly, impenetrable.

Then, the calmness faded. From everything Colt had seen, these infected were able to test their limits. Adapt and evolve. One way or another, they were going to find a way inside.

UNCIVIL WAR: EVOLUTION

by

Bradley Wright and J.D. Dudycha

Book two in the

Uncivil War series is now available

for pre-order!

Acknowledgments

First and foremost, we want to thank you, the reader. We love what we do, and no matter how many people help us along the way, none of it would be possible if you weren’t turning the pages.

To our family and friends. Every creative person is neurotic as hell about their creations, and we just want to thank you for always helping to keep our heads on straight. And for indulging all of our ridiculous ideas.

To our advanced reader team. You are our megaphone in helping spread the word about each new novel we release. You all have become friends, and we thank you for catching those last few sneaky typos, and always letting us know when something isn’t good enough. Jake and Colt appreciate you, and so do we.

About the Author

Bradley Wright is the international bestselling author of espionage and mystery thrillers. UNCIVIL WAR is his twenty-ninth novel. Bradley lives with his family in Lexington, Kentucky. He has always been a fan of great stories, whether it be a song, a movie, a novel, or a binge-worthy television series. Bradley loves interacting with readers on Facebook, Instagram, and via email. Click on your digital platform of choice below and join in on the fun.

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About the Author

J.D. Dudycha believes the best stories are written with characters overcoming real life struggles and everyone deserves a shot at redemption. J.D. spends his time with his wife and children in Ponte Vedra, Florida. When he is able to step away from the world of writing fiction, he enjoys golf and fishing. Connect with him on the social platform of your choice.

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