Seeing the way the Alpha boys pounded their opposition made Lee consider—just for a moment—ordering them to turn around and go back into Boston. Concentrated, his lightfighters could deliver incredible firepower. They appeared almost invincible.
But appearances were deceiving. Pulling out was the right thing to do. Boston was a lost cause, its people fled or infected, its once proud buildings slowly converting into ash. Lee doubted his forces had enough bullets to do the job at this point.
“Radio,” he said.
A staff sergeant gave him the phone. Lee barked instructions to the Apaches assigned to provide top cover for Alpha. He directed cannon fire at several civilian vehicles speeding along an open stretch of road toward Alpha’s position.
He handed the radio back and sipped his coffee. On one of the video monitors, he kept watch on a speeding white Cadillac. Welded spikes protruded from its hood and roof, onto which a grisly array of severed heads had been mounted.
The vehicle wilted under chain gun fire from one of the Apaches then burst into a fireball.
Good work. Behind him, one of the staff sergeants whistled. The staff appeared to be in good spirits. The command post hummed with new energy. They were losing, but they were doing something. They had a new mission, one they could understand, one that had promise. They were getting the hell out from under the big hammer.
They weren’t retreating. No. He hadn’t put it like that during his speech at Prince’s funeral, which he’d kept short on platitudes and long on communicating the new strategy. He called it “redeployment.” They’d fought the good fight, accomplished what they could, and they were returning to Fort Drum. If there were infected at Drum, they’d clean house. If there were survivors, they’d help them.
The soldiers had looked back at him with faces lined with constant stress and fatigue. They didn’t cheer. But he saw a new gleam in their hollowed eyes. Lee hoped the men coming back from Boston felt the same way about their new mission. Together, they’d go to Fort Drum. They’d rest and refit then plan their next move.
Bravo Company approached the wire. They’d made it.
Lee heard cheering outside. “Major,” he said, “take over here. Back in five.”
Walker snapped to it. “Yes, sir.”
Lee wanted to greet Captain Marsh personally. It wasn’t going to be a pleasant meeting. He had bad news: The captain’s missing platoon had gone into one of the hospitals and had been virtually overrun. And Marsh was going to have to hand over his wounded, who would be locked up and cared for in a special quarantine facility on base.
All in all, the next few days would severely test Lee’s diplomatic skills. If he was going to succeed as the new commanding officer, he needed the support of the field officers.
He stepped out of the command post as the column of Humvees rolled through the gate and began to coil near the maintenance building. Soldiers shouted and slapped the metal hides of the vehicles as they rumbled past. The gunners smiled down at them and flashed the victory sign.
They stiffened at the sight of Lee.
One by one, they saluted him as they passed.
TWENTY-EIGHT.
Wade knew he had to come clean with Rawlings.
He’d seen a lot of zombie movies back in high school. There was always some guy who got bitten but kept it secret from everybody else. Wade could never understand the motivation. If you knew you were infected and going to die, why not tell the others in your group? He always pictured himself in that situation, thinking he’d grab the nearest weapon and go out in a blaze of glory. With nothing to lose, he’d sacrifice himself so that others might live.
The real world was not a movie. In the real world, the monsters didn’t shamble around trying to eat you; they howled with laughter while they pressed a hot iron into your face. Wade didn’t know if he was infected. If there was any chance he wasn’t, he didn’t want to be tossed out on the street to face those things alone. And if he was, he wasn’t sure he could handle being rejected and tossed out by the group. He needed them in more ways than one.
Still, he owed them the truth. If there was any chance he could be a danger to them, they should know about it. The need to come clean felt like a crushing weight.
Wade found Rawlings standing in front of one of the big picture windows overlooking the crowds boiling in the stadium.
She greeted him with a nod before returning to the view. “I was just thinking about human nature, Wade.”
“What about it?”
“Cooperate versus compete. When the shit hits the fan, most people try to do the right thing. Then some assholes go and ruin it for everybody. See those guys?” She pointed at a gang of teenagers at the eastern edge of the playing field.
He nodded. “Yeah. What about them?”
“At least once a day, they drag some girl under the stands.”
Wade frowned with disgust. “We should—”
“There isn’t a damn thing we can do about it.”
“Well,” he said. He didn’t know what to say.
“More people come in every day. Nowhere out there is safe now.”
Wade asked, “It’s safe in here?”
She offered up a grim smile. “You’re a quick study, Private Wade.”
They stood in silence for a few moments, watching the crowd. A boom box down in the camp played a rap song that pounded the air with its bass line. Wade shook his head at the stupidity. If he could hear the music up here, the Klowns could hear it out there.
After a while, Rawlings nudged him and swept her arm across the view. “One day, my son, all this will be yours.”
He smiled at her humor. Rawlings was like no other woman he’d ever known, the polar opposite of the girls back in high school, who were so insecure yet so full of themselves. With Rawlings, what you saw was what you got. He really liked her.
One more reason to come clean.
But all the more reason to fear her loathing and rejection.
“Why don’t we leave?” he asked. “It seems to me we’re sitting ducks here.”
“We’re healing, Wade. We need every minute of rest to get our fighting spirit back. Without it, we won’t last five minutes on the street. We’ll be dead meat out there.”
“We can do it,” he assured her.
“What about the other twenty guys here who are still too messed up to wipe their own asses? We need to give them every chance to come around and step up. I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell am not super excited about leaving them behind to get chopped up.”
Wade nodded. She was right. But at some point, they were going to have to make a tough decision if they wanted to survive.
“You’re cutting it awfully close,” he said. If it wasn’t too late already.
“I know. I just don’t want to leave them.” She winced. “And maybe I’m a little scared, okay?”
Wade hated seeing her forced to admit that. Of course she was scared. They were all scared. They were terrified. He wanted to put his arm around her and comfort her. He patted her shoulder instead. “It’s going to be all right.”
“I grew up here. Bean Town is my home. It’s all going up in smoke. History itself. All those people…” Rawlings wiped her eyes and set her jaw. “I’ll face it when I’m ready.”
“And then what? What’s the plan?”
“You know the egress routes and the rally point. Assuming we get out of the building alive, we strike west. Travel only at night. Cross the river. Then north all the way to Hanscom.”