Dez turned on the walkie-talkie and adjusted the squelch. There was steady, overlapping chatter and it took her several tries to get through. Trout produced a small video recorder and began taping.
“Break, break, break, this is Officer Desdemona Fox, Stebbins PD, calling for Lieutenant Colonel Macklin Dietrich. Please respond.”
The chatter slowly died down and then Dietrich’s gruff voice responded. “This is a secure military channel, Officer Fox. You are not authorized to broadcast on this—”
“I think we’ve been through this already, Colonel. Let’s cut the crap and get right to it,” Dez said forcefully.
“What is the reason for this call, officer?”
“Trying to make it to the end of the day without dying, sir.”
A pause.
“What is your location?”
“I’m at the Stebbins Little School. There are eight hundred people in here. None of us are infected. We have steel security doors and this building is the town evacuation shelter.”
“The infection has spread throughout the entire town, officer,” said Dietrich. “I’m sorry to have to inform you of this, but—”
“The town, yes. Maybe. But the school is a secure facility. This is where the survivors are. We need you to come and get us out.”
“I don’t believe you understand the nature of this event, officer.”
“Colonel Dietrich, you are incorrect, sir, when you say that we are unaware of the nature of this event. We are very goddamn aware. And we are asking how you intend to help.”
There was silence on the line. When Dietrich spoke his voice was tight. It was hard to tell if it was anger or fear. “There’s nothing we can do. If you’re in the thick of this then you should be able to comprehend that.”
“I comprehend some of it, Colonel. What I don’t comprehend is why you’re not even trying to rescue or protect the uninfected. This isn’t an airborne disease. It’s spread through spit or a bite or some other fluid contact.”
As she spoke, Trout panned the camera to show the dead zombies on the floor and the black goo around their mouths. He zoomed in to focus on the wriggling threadlike worms in the muck. Then he panned back up to Dez. In this light, with her disheveled hair, her hard beauty, her Valkyrie bone structure, she looked like a hero out of legend, a warrior woman who could have belonged to any of the great battles of history. Trout never doubted that he loved Desdemona Fox, but at the moment he felt like he wanted to shout the fact.
Dietrich said, “You are a police officer, I believe, in a small town? Not a biologist or medical doctor?”
“Yes, sir, I’m a small-town cop. I also spent a couple of years in Afghanistan taking orders from cocksuckers like you, so I know when someone’s blowing smoke out of their ass.”
“Watch your mouth, Officer Fox.”
“Or what? You want to come here and arrest me? Go ahead. Otherwise stop acting like you’re in command of this situation. I’m asking you—
No reply.
“Colonel…?” No reply. In fact there was no further chatter on the walkie-talkie. Not one word.
Dez shook her head and stared at Trout, who was still taping. “They’re going to let us die here. God … they’re going to murder all these kids.” Tears broke from her eyes and rolled down over her cheeks. She weighed the walkie-talkie in her hand and then with a snarl turned to hurl it against the wall but JT scooped it out of her hand.
“No,” he said, “we might need that.”
“I blew it,” she snapped back. “I pushed too hard and blew it. God, why am I always such a bitch?”
“Actually,” said Trout, turning off the camera and lowering it, “I thought you were magnificent.”
“Oh, shut up, Billy.”
“No,” said JT, “boy’s right. You were great. You smacked that officious prick’s ass.”
“That’ll look good on my tombstone. Let’s face it, I played the wrong card. He knows that we’re a liability and now he’s going to burn this town down just to keep us from telling the world.” She glared at Trout. “Why the fuck are you smiling?”
“I taped that conversation you just had. Dietrich’s voice is crystal clear.”
“So? We can’t do anything with it. The Internet and cell service is as dead as we’re going to be.”
Billy Trout unslung the equipment bag he carried and bent down — hissing a little at the pain in his back — to unzip it.
“You’re not the only one who brought goodies to this party, Dez.” He produced a device and showed it to them, his smile never wavering. “This is a satellite news uplink. If we’re going to go down, babe, then let’s at least go down swinging.”
CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT
Lieutenant Colonel Dietrich set his walkie-talkie down and stared at it for five long seconds. Across the table from him, Captain Rice stood in silence, not daring to intrude into this moment. He could see the fires that rage were lighting under the colonel’s skin. His commanding officer’s mouth was a tight knife slash; his nostrils flared wide like a charging bull.
Rice tried to make himself invisible. He expected Dietrich to suddenly dash everything off the table, or hurl the walkie-talkie the length of the room. But the colonel said and did nothing as the seconds splintered off the clock and fell like debris on the floor.
Dietrich walked over to the window and looked out at the storm.
“The wind’s dropping,” he said. His tone was quiet, calm, and that surprised Rice, who had heard the full exchange between Dietrich and that crazy female cop in Stebbins.
“Yes, sir,” said Rice. “Weather service says that we’ve seen the worst of it. The storm front is turning north by east. Winds are down to—”
“How soon before we can get some birds in the air?” asked Dietrich.
Instead of directly answering, Rice made a call, spoke to another captain, listened, and hung up.
“As soon as the wind drops another fifteen miles per hour, sir. We’re still at the outer range of unsafe.”
Dietrich nodded. He clasped his hands behind his back and continued to stare out the window.
“That cop is well intentioned,” he said quietly, “but she does not understand what’s at stake.”
Rice cleared his throat. Very quietly. “No sir. She was totally out of line. Probably stress … or the onset of the disease.”
“Probably,” agreed Dietrich coldly.
“Your orders, sir?”
Dietrich said nothing for almost twenty seconds. Rice waited him out. Then the colonel turned.
“Sound draws these things, correct?”
“The infected, sir? Yes, that’s what we’ve heard from our people on the ground.”
Dietrich nodded. “Then here is what I want to do.”
Rice listened in silence. Dietrich’s plan was as solid as it was brutal.
As Rice hurried out of the office to set things in motion he said a silent prayer for the people in Stebbins.
