Four: Georgia
The outbreak was still going strong as we fought our way toward the motor pool. The infected weren’t actually everywhere. It just seemed that way. The three of us moved in a back-to-back wedge formation, Steve taking point, while Rick and I took the sides. We had sufficient ammo to keep pressing forward, even with zombies charging us from all sides.
I knew some of them; I knew too many of them. And the only comfort I could find was that Shaun was not among them.
“Georgia? How are you for bullets?”
“Good for now,” I said, and fired again. “Rick?”
“I’m good. Steve?”
“I’ll live,” he said darkly.
That didn’t sound good. “Is there anyone who can come and provide backup?”
Steve’s lips tightened as he shook his head. “Our last call from Andres came while I was on my way to get you. He was backed against a wall with half a dozen of the aides. I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again. Carlos and Heidi are at the motor pool; that zone’s relatively clear. Mike… I haven’t heard from Mike. Not Susan or Paolo, either. Everyone else is either on their way to meet with us or holding fast in a safe zone.”
Andres was Steve’s latest partner, replacing Tyrone, who had died in Eakly. I winced. “I’m so sorry.”
Steve shook his head. “I never was very good at partners.” He turned and fired into the shadows at the side of a portable office. The zombie that had been lurking there gurgled and fell.
We kept walking, our formation allowing us to stop the infected before they could get too close. Thankfully, Carlos and Heidi knew we were coming, and they had access to all the ammunition that had been stockpiled at the motor pool. Thanks to their efforts, the infected tapered off as we got closer. We crossed the rest of the distance between us and the fence without incident. The gate was closed, the electric locks engaged. Steve reached for the keypad, and a shot rang out over our heads, clearly aimed to warn, not wound. Small favors.
“Stop where you are!” shouted Carlos. He and Heidi stepped out from behind the shed, both of them carrying too many weapons. Shaun would have yelled at them for that.
“Stand down,” barked Steve. “It’s me and the journalists. They tested clean when I picked them up.”
“Beg your pardon, sir, but how do we know you test clean now?” Heidi asked.
“If you’ll let us through the fence, you can keep us backed against it while you run blood tests,” I offered, hoping that the fact that I was still capable of coherent speech would be a point in my favor. “If any of us comes up infected, you’ll be able to shoot us before we amplify.”
She and Carlos exchanged a look. Carlos nodded. “All right,” he said. “Step back from the gate.”
We did as we were told, Steve giving me a thoughtful look as the gate slid open. “You’re good at this.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice,” I said. Rick and I followed him into the motor pool.
Carlos chucked us blood testing units while Heidi reported on the status of the other units, still remaining at a safe distance. Susan was confirmed as infected; she’d been tagged by a political analyst as she was helping Mike evacuate a group of survivors to a rooftop. She stayed on the ground after she was bitten, shooting everything in sight before taking out the ladder and shooting herself. About the best ending you could hope for if you got infected in a combat zone. Mike was fine. So, surprisingly, was Paolo. There was still no word from Andres, and three more groups of security agents and survivors were expected to reach the motor pool at any time. Steve absorbed the news without changing his expression; he didn’t even flinch when the needles on his testing unit bit into his hand. I flinched. After the number of blood tests I’d had recently, I was tired of being punctured.
Heidi and Carlos relaxed when our tests flashed clean. “Sorry, sir,” said Carlos, walking over with the biohazard bags. “We needed to be sure.”
“Standard outbreak protocol,” Steve said, dismissing the apology with a wave of his hand. “Keep holding this ground.”
“Sir?” said Heidi. “Won’t you be holding it with us?”
“We have somewhere we need to be,” I said quietly.
Maybe it was the look on my face, or the obvious anguish in my voice. Whatever it was, they didn’t argue.
“One of the armored SUVs should do,” said Steve. “Find the fastest one that’s still on the grounds.” Carlos and Heidi blinked at him. “Move!” he barked, and they moved, scattering for the guard station where the keys to the parked vehicles were stored. Steve ignored their burst of activity, leading me to the weapons locker and keying open the lock. “Candy store is open.”
“You’re a real people person, aren’t you?” asked Rick. “Prom King in school?”
“Four times,” Steve said.
I ignored them, focusing on grabbing boxes of bullets and shoving them into my pockets with a single-minded determination that was frightening, even to me. It felt like I was running on a countdown. As to what it was counting down to…
Carlos emerged from the guard station and tossed a set of keys to Steve. “We can unlock the rear gate, but once the central computer realizes the seal’s been broken—”
“How long can we have?”
“Thirty seconds.”
“That’s long enough. You two hold your ground. Keep anyone who makes it here safe. Mason, Cousins, you’re with me.”
“All the way,” I said, and followed him to the car.
Once we were all inside, belts fastened and weapons secured, Steve started the engine and drove us to the gate. Carlos was already waiting, ready to hit the manual override. The manual exits exist in case of accidental or ineffective lockdown, to give the uninfected a chance to escape. They require a blood test and a retinal scan, and breaking quarantine without a damn good reason is a quick way to get yourself sent to prison for a long time. Carlos was risking a lot on Steve’s order.
“You have good men,” I said.
“I know,” said Steve, and hit the gas.
The roads outside the Center were clear. That’s standard during a confirmed outbreak in a non-congested area. The people inside the quarantine zone will survive or not without interference; it’s up to them the minute the fences come down. So the big health orgs and military intervention teams wait until the worst of it’s had time to burn itself out before they head in. Let the infection peak. Ironically, that makes it safer, because it’s trying to save the survivors that gets people killed. Once you know everyone around you is already dead, it gets easier to shoot without asking questions.
“How long since quarantine was declared?” asked Rick.
“Twenty-seven minutes.”
Standard CDC response time says you leave a quarantine to cook for forty-five minutes before you go in. Given our proximity to the city, they wouldn’t just be responding by air; they’d be sending in ground support, to make sure nobody broke quarantine before they declared it safe. “Can we make it?”
“We’ll have to,” said Steve, and sped up.
We were just crossing the Sacramento city limits when the first CDC copters passed overhead, zooming toward the Center. Three more followed close behind, in closed arrow formation. I leaned over and clicked on the radio, tuning it to the emergency band. “—repeat, this is not a drill. Remain in your homes. If you are on the road, remain in your vehicle until you have reached a safe location. If you have seen or had direct contact with infected individuals, contact local authorities immediately. Repeat, this is not a drill. Remain in—”
Steve turned the radio off. “You know that breaking quarantine is a federal offense, don’t you?”
“I don’t care right now.” I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes. Rick’s hand settled on my shoulder, trying to offer comfort. If I didn’t think about it too hard, I could almost pretend that he was Shaun.
“All right, then.” He hit the gas again. The SUV rolled faster, hitting the end of the trestle and blazing onward toward the city. He glanced at me as we drove, adding, “I’m sorry about your brother. He was a good man. He’ll be missed.”
“Thank you.” The idea of looking at his face—it would be so earnest, if his words were anything to judge by, so anxious for understanding—made me tired all over again. There was nothing I could do now, nothing I could do
