“Look at him,” she said. She meant the bird.
“We need to go,” Cam said, and Deborah added, “Ruth, the sun’s coming up.”
“Right.” She didn’t move at ‚rst. “You’re right. It’s just a fucking bird.” Ruth stood up and pushed past them with her trembling, ‚lthy gloves.
They were on foot because Hernandez had driven back to Sylvan Mountain, both to rejoin the base and as a decoy for enemy satellites. His trucks were far more likely to attract attention than a handful of people, especially since his vehicles were moving toward the front. If there was an attack, Hernandez wanted to draw the ‚re to himself. He was buying time. He’d organized a †ight of helicopters to take Ruth north again, but he didn’t want to risk a pickup too close to Sylvan Mountain. The Chinese had too many guns focused on the area. The invaders had also continued to push their advantage in the air war. Helicopters would be vulnerable no matter what he did, but Hernandez intended to lead a massive counteroffensive to push the Chinese back. A diversion.
The worst that Ruth faced were scratches or a turned ankle, and she seemed eager to hurt herself, shoving through the branches and mud. They were incubating. They’d dropped below the barrier forty minutes ago and the perfected vaccine would beat out the earlier model, swiftly multiplying as it was ‚rst to disassemble the plague. At the same time, the booster nano should help protect them against the radiation.
Hernandez would give his life for hers. With more time in the labs in Grand Lake, Ruth had the ability to turn the war in their favor by improving the booster nano. There seemed to be no limit to what it could do. Accelerating a man’s capacity to heal was only the beginning. She might be able to double their strength, their re†exes, their sight. But as always the problem was contamination. If they could pass an improved booster among themselves, they would inevitably spread it to the enemy. Supersoldiers would have the advantage only for a short period before the enemy rose up with the same new traits. The United States would need to launch their new attacks in a single coordinated thrust, if there was time — if there were still enough Americans left.
The swamp turned black as Estey led them into an area where the collapsing forest had ignited and burned before the †oods extinguished the ‚re. Cam saw another dying bird. Then he spotted a blue Pepsi can and wondered how it had gotten there.
From somewhere north came the long, shuddering wake of jet ‚ghters. “Down!” Estey screamed. Most of them splashed into the charcoal-encrusted grime. Ruth stood looking up. Foshtomi grabbed the back of her jacket. “Get down, you idiot,” Foshtomi said, but the thundering sound was far away and getting farther, fading into the night sky behind them.
Cam turned to see the dark west horizon stutter with orange bursts of light as gigantic explosions ‚lled the valleys beyond Sylvan Mountain. U.S. ‚ghters were slamming the Chinese again, preparing the way for the ground assault.
Hernandez had some advantages. He had elevation. It was ironic. The Colorado armies had stayed above ten thousand feet because they were afraid of the plague, ceding most of the lowlands and highways to the Chinese, but now they would crash into the enemy with all the momentum of superior positions.
The sun touched them at last as they hiked out of the swamp onto a ridgeline. The light felt warm and clean — and the wind began to carry the sounds of artillery. Then there were more planes. The clamor of war followed them for miles and Ruth kept her head down, limping through the rock and scorched grass as fast as she was able.
The thrum of helicopters echoed from the shallow mountain pass in front of them. It became a roar as three snub-nosed Black Hawks surged out of the landscape ahead. Estey knelt with his radio as Goodrich waved both arms over his head, so Cam was surprised when two of the attack choppers banked away and kept going. More decoys. The third helicopter came straight for them and †ared hard, lowering its skids to the earth as the crew chief banged open the door.
* * * *
“Do you trust me?” Ruth asked, leaning close enough that her hair whipped at Cam’s face. He barely heard her. On the †ight deck, the sound of the rotors was bone-jarring. The turbines screamed each time the chopper lifted and swung through the terrain. Cam looked out from the noise at the quiet world †itting by. The shapes of mountains heaved up and down, but the desolation was constant. Endless miles were burned or †ooded or brown with dead trees.
Ruth leaned away to see his face. There was something new in her eyes, excitement and fear, an idea, and Cam nodded. He let her brush her lips against his good ear again.
“I need you to trust me one more time,” she said.
* * * *
Estey’s Rangers were separated from each other as soon as the chopper landed in Grand Lake. Cam and Deborah were pulled into the effort as well. Special Forces medics drew several hypodermics of blood from each of them. Other soldiers led them to command shelters and barracks, rapidly pricking the insides of their arms with needles, then stabbing those bloody slivers into other men and women. It was almost funny. Cam was badly worn and the process had a madcap feel that reminded him of the bumbling clown shows he’d seen at various fairs and amusement parks when he was a kid.
Grand Lake was in turmoil. Most of the area was evacuating. Cam found himself in a tent crowded with pilots in full †ight gear, all of whom ran from the barracks as soon as they were inoculated. Cam also passed through two shelters full of of‚cers where he learned as much as he needed, listening to them con‚rm signals and rendezvous dates. A full platoon had taken Ruth to her lab. Some of the top commanders were also staying, at least until alternate bases were established below the barrier. They were trying their damnedest to get out of here without crippling their defenses. That was impossible. The transition would be a staggering amount of work exactly when they needed most to focus on the enemy, but they were too vulnerable on these peaks. Chinese ‚ghters had broken through to Grand Lake eight times in the past two days, strafing its makeshift air bases and ground crews. Enemy planes could come again any minute.
Cam knew something they didn’t. Neither sides’ efforts would matter if Ruth was successful. She no longer planned to improve the booster. She imagined a way to remove the enemy completely, and yet there was no guarantee that her scheme would work. Until then, Cam could only do his part.
He spotted Foshtomi once in between the tents, running with her own bodyguards. Another time he saw a mob on the hillside across from him, a near-riot in the refugee camps that must have gathered around another of his squadmates. A lot of the refugees were already gone, taking their chances with the early model of the vaccine. Some had stayed, however, either from inertia or to help organize the rest.
Allison Barrett was one of those who’d remained. She found Cam that evening as he ate with Ballard and Goodrich. The rest of their squad had yet to reappear, and his heart leapt at the sight of a familiar face. Cam stood up from the table and walked past his guards, embracing her.
“Come with me,” Allison whispered. Her blue eyes were bright and urgent.
He shook his head. “I can’t.” He thought she meant outside the tent, but Allison had larger plans.
Allison bared her teeth in her ‚erce, beautiful grin and said, “You can help us. Please. Regular people are important, too. We need more leaders and you’ve been under the barrier so many times. You know what to expect.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Please. We’re going east.” She kept her arm cinched around his waist. “This place will get hit again. You know it will.”
“Yes.”