Nick offered them a choice: Join the base or leave forever. Most of them elected to stay on with a few opting for banishment. All in all, it was a great victory for Fort Detrick. Only now, they faced a new threat from the south that could easily be the end of them.
“You’d better get going if we’re to stand any chance of leaving in the morning, Alex,” Nick prompted, pulling Saul from his morbid thoughts.
Alex nodded. “I’ll get it done.”
Saul cleared his throat. “There’s just one problem with your plan, Nick.”
“What’s that?”
“The girls have gone on a drinking spree. I doubt Dylan will be able to join you with a clear head tomorrow.”
“You’re joking,” Nick said. “A drinking spree? Now?”
“Call it a girl’s night,” Saul said. “And, I’d leave them alone if I was you. Rita needs this, and so does Tara. Let them have one night to themselves.”
“Who else is in on this?” Nick asked.
“So far, it’s only Dylan, Amanda, Tara, and Rita,” Saul said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if more join the party later on, though.”
“Amanda too?” Alex asked. “Seems our so-called date was a goner either way.”
“It’s harmless fun. Let them enjoy themselves,” Saul said.
“Damn it. I really wanted Dylan to go on this trip with me,” Nick said.
“One more day won’t hurt,” Saul replied. “It will give Alex more time to get everything ready, as well.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Nick conceded. “Your deadline has been extended, Alex. Make the best of it.”
“I’ll get on it right away,” Alex said.
“And, I’ll keep an eye on the girls from afar,” Saul offered.
“Good idea. Make sure they stay out of trouble,” Nick said.
“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Saul said.
“It’s not them I’m worried about,” Nick said. “It’s the base.”
Saul laughed. “Good point.”
As they each went their way, Saul’s thoughts returned to the communities down south and what might have happened to them. An ominous feeling plucked at his soul, and his gut told him Fort Detrick was next. This time, there won’t be any room for mistakes.
Chapter 6 - Dylan
Her feet pounded on the ground, each step vibrating up her spine and into her skull in an agonizing beat. A steel girder flashed past her on the left, and deep blue water churned far below.
Behind her, they advanced: A faceless mass of men, women, and children. Together, they belonged to every class and occupation known to man. They were the rich, the middle class, the poor, and the homeless. They used to be teachers, pastors, engineers, scientists, doctors, beggars, plumbers, homemakers, cleaners, cashiers, and artists. They came in every size, shape, and nationality, and had little in common except one thing: They were all dead.
Dead and hungry.
Driven by a microscopic host to make more of their kind.
More and more and more.
All of these thoughts raced through Dylan’s mind as she fled from the horde’s open maw. She had to get across the river. On the far side, safety beckoned. Solid ground and the open arms of Nick awaited, his expression fearful and anguished as he regarded her progress. “Run, Dylan. Run!”
She was two-thirds across when a terrific explosion filled her ears. A deep rumble traveled through the steel and concrete beneath her feet, and she almost lost her balance. A second blast followed the first, and then a third, and a fourth and a fifth.
Dylan pushed her body to the limits, reaching out to Nick with one beseeching hand. She was almost there. So close. “Nick!”
The sixth and final explosion hit her in the back like a supersonic wave. Her feet left the ground, and she was thrown head over heels through the air. Molten heat enfolded her limbs, and her eyes were fixed on the way she’d come.
The bridge was gone. There was nothing left but a mess of broken steel, concrete, and tar. Flames and black smoke roiled among the ruins, incinerating everything it touched, including the horde.
The undead were no more, and neither was she.
***
“Dylan, wake up. You’re having a nightmare,” an insistent voice called. It nagged at her consciousness until she was dragged from slumber. “Wake up already.”
“Wait, what?” she said, raising her head from the pillow. It stuck to her cheek, a pool of dried drool the culprit. Her mouth tasted like crap, and her vision blurred when she looked around. “Where am I?”
“We’re at Rita’s place, remember?” the voice answered.
“Rita’s?” Dylan repeated, blinking at the speaker. Tara’s face came into focus, purple shadows decorating the hollows beneath her eyes.
“That’s right,” Tara added with a frown, one hand attempting to smooth her knotted hair into a semblance of order. “You lot wanted to party, and you dragged me along against my better judgment.”
“Oh, yeah. Now I remember,” Dylan said, pushing herself upright. Her skull pounded, and the blood drained from her cheeks in a rush. With one hand pressed to her forehead, she waited for the dizzy spell to pass. “I feel like shit, and you look like shit.”
“Thanks,” Tara replied with a grumble. “I won’t be able to show my face at the laboratory today, thanks to you.”
Dylan squinted at Tara. “Stop bitching, will you? Nobody forced you to have all those tequilas last night.”
“Tequila? I had tequila? No wonder I feel like a train wreck,” Tara said, falling back onto the carpet with a loud groan.
“You and me both,” Dylan agreed.
“Morning, you two,” a cheery voice announced before the curtains were swept aside to let in a flood of bright light.
“Arg, you’re killing me,” Dylan cried, shielding her eyes.
“Put it off, put it off,” Tara said, making her displeasure known with a shriek.
“I made coffee,” Amanda said instead, smiling at them from behind the kitchen counter. “Come and get it!”
Dylan perked up when the smell of freshly ground coffee beans hit her nostrils, and she managed to get to her feet. She stumbled toward the kitchen and accepted a cup of the hot brew. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,”
