“Sammy!” Kate scolded her. “Let me take that.”
She took the crate.
“I’m fine,” Sammy said.
There was a slight bulge under her shirt where bandages protected the entry and exit wounds of the bullet that had cut through her abdomen. Sammy had been lucky it had not hit anything vital, but she seemed to press that luck every day, trying to overextend herself.
She sighed. “I hate being useless.”
“You’re anything but useless,” Kate said. “It’ll be better if you’re well-rested anyway for when we get to Houston. We need you.”
“Now you’re just trying to prop up my ego.”
“Is it working?”
Sammy gave her a knowing grin.
A group of six Canadian engineers joined them, carrying metal containers with the SDS equipment.
“That’s it, huh?” Beckham asked, hopping down, followed by Horn.
“I think so,” Kate said.
Javier stood near the back of the truck with them. “Are you sure I can’t come too?”
“It’s safer here,” Kate said.
Javier met her gaze. “But I can fight.”
“You can do your part by looking out for Galveston,” Beckham said. “Watch out for Tasha and Jenny.”
Javier frowned.
“That’s right,” Tasha said, playing along. “Someone’s got to protect us.”
“You’ve already got Timothy,” Javier said.
Tasha blushed, and Jenny let out a soft laugh.
“Don’t you get any ideas now that I’m leaving,” Horn said with a slight scowl. “I’m telling Connor to keep an eye on you.”
Connor was the Secret Service agent who had watched the kids back in Long Island. With Ringgold’s blessing, he was once again looking out for them while Kate, Beckham, and Horn went out into the field.
“Truth is, Timothy isn’t staying behind anyway,” Tasha said. “He told me he’s headed to Houston.”
Horn looked at Beckham. “He’s going with us?”
Beckham nodded. “Timothy and Sergeant Ruckley are being sent with a platoon of new recruits to help defend Houston.”
“He hasn’t even finished training,” Tasha said.
“I know, but we’re so short on men and women, and he’s one of the best.” Beckham said. “Truth be told, Ruckley also asked for him. She likes Timothy as much as we do.”
Tasha looked at her dad. “Can you look out for Timothy? Make sure he’s safe?”
“Of course,” Horn said.
“Captain, we better get moving,” a soldier called from the cab of the transport truck.
Beckham gave him a nod, then bent to one knee and pulled Javier in tight for a hug. “Listen to Connor and be good, okay?”
“I will,” Javier said.
Kate took her turn with Javier, squeezing him tightly. Saying goodbye to her young son never got any easier, no matter how many times she had to do it.
“I love you,” she said, brushing back some of his hair. “Don’t you ever forget that.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
“Soon this will all be over, and we won’t have to go anywhere without each other again.”
The soldier in the cab of the truck leaned out the open window again. “Captain, sorry to interrupt, but we’re losing daylight.”
Kate gave Javier one last hug, and Horn returned from saying goodbye to his girls. Rico was already in the back of the Stryker staring off into space, indicating to Kate she was probably thinking about Fitz.
“I’m sure Fitz is fine,” Kate said.
“Yeah, for sure.”
She didn’t sound convinced.
The diesel engine chugged to life. Kate, Horn, and Beckham waved to the kids from out of the open back hatch until the warehouse was out of sight.
Beckham closed the hatch, and a few minutes later, the Stryker joined a convoy of other transport trucks and Humvees at the outer gates for the bridge leading to the mainland. Soldiers atop the wall opened the sliding metal gate, and once again, the convoy was off, driving into the wastelands.
They passed by abandoned homes lining a marina. Boats rotted in their slips, many half-sunk. Paint on the houses flaked away like the dead skin off a corpse.
As they left the coast behind, sunlight waned over the Texas horizon, falling in orange hues through the slightly open hatch on the roof and the hatch over the driver. They drove through the outer suburbs of Houston, which looked no better than the neighborhoods closer to Galveston. Charred houses were nearly buried from where they had fallen into sinkholes formed by Variant tunnels.
Kate squeezed Beckham’s hand at the shriek of a Variant.
The convoy suddenly slowed to a halt.
“Why are we stopping?” Ron asked.
“Got a roadblock,” the driver said. “Bunch of abandoned cars.”
Leslie cowered next to Sammy and Ron looked at Beckham.
“Captain, we can’t stay here,” Ron said.
“I know.” Beckham pushed open one of the slotted panels for a look. “Horn, get topside.”
“You got it,” Horn said, pushing out the roof hatch with his M-249.
“Hunker down and stay inside,” Beckham said, turning back to Kate and the others.
“Shit, we got contacts at our three!” the driver suddenly shouted.
Kate peered around the driver to see a glimpse out the front hatch. She saw the shadows of skeletal creatures running at their Stryker. The chatter of Horn’s M-249 came to life above, resonating inside the Stryker.
Beckham spoke to the driver and Kate tried to listen. Judging by his cursing, they were in deep trouble.
“We got to clear the path,” he said.
“Can’t we just ram whatever’s blocking the road?” Ron asked.
“There are too many cars ahead,” Beckham said. “But we got guys from the transport truck working on clearing it.” He went to the rear hatch. “Rico, on me. Rest of you stay inside, no matter what happens.”
He gave Rico a nod. Then they jumped outside. Gunfire cracked immediately from both sides of the Stryker, joining with the chainsaw bark of the M249 topside.
Screams rang out, some of panic, others yelling orders, and then a cry of pain. Not Beckham, or Rico, from what Kate could tell.
“Contacts on our six!” someone shouted.
Something slammed the back of the hatch, and Leslie screeched. Ron pulled her close, and Sammy sat trembling.
“It’s okay,” Kate said. “We’re going to—”
Small arms fire drowned out her voice.
“Timothy!” came a scream.
That was Beckham.
More gunfire cracked, followed by a chorus of Variant shrieks and howls.
“Roadblocks are clear!” the driver yelled.
The
