“Miss him?” Saul teased as they exited the room.
Dylan’s cheeks flushed. “Not like that. As a friend.”
Saul laughed, but Tara didn’t miss the way Sergeant Dean studied Dylan with a speculative look. Do I detect a lover’s triangle forming?
They left the infirmary and crossed the grounds at a brisk walk. Already, the sun was beginning its descent, signaling the coming of night. Tara tucked her hands inside her coat. It was freezing, and she wondered if she had enough blankets on her bed to keep warm.
Because the base was running on backup power, only the most essential buildings got electricity, such as the infirmary. The rest had to make do with candles, lamps, and gas stoves. The spotlights along the fence line got a chunk too, but she was going to suggest they switch those off at night. They’d be used only in the event of an attack. The light would only draw more infected their way, and not using them would stretch their fuel reserves.
Tara paused when she spotted the USAMRIID building in the distance. Without meaning to, she switched direction and walked closer. Her boots crunched across the gravel walkway, and neatly trimmed bushes lined the path. Even during the apocalypse, the army still maintained rigorous attention to appearances. The others followed without protest, and they gathered a few feet away from the security perimeter.
To Tara, her old workplace looked like it always had. Square, beige, bland, and boring. Only now, it was surrounded by barbed wire, the entrances were blocked, and a couple of soldiers stood on guard. To keep the monsters in.
In the gathering gloom, the building exuded an air of menace, and the thought that a hundred-plus zombies roamed its hallways sent a chill down her spine. A shadow flitted past one of the windows, and she reached for Saul’s hand. He gripped her fingers with his, and she leaned against him.
“This is it, huh?” Dylan asked. “Your old workplace? The one chock full of zombies that need killing?”
“That’s right,” Tara confirmed.
“It’s not going to be easy,” Sergeant Dean said.
“No, it’s not,” Tara agreed.
“I’d go so far as to say it’s a suicide mission,” Sergeant Dean added.
Dylan punched him on the arm. “Don’t jinx it. We’re bulletproof, remember? Saul and I can’t get infected. Neither can you.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t get ripped into itty bitty pieces,” Sergeant Dean said. “And you’re not going in alone. I’m going with you.”
“You are?” Tara asked. “Why?”
Sergeant Dean shrugged. “It’s a worthy cause. One worth dying for.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Tara said, turning back to gaze at the lab. “You guys go ahead. It’s getting dark.”
“What about you?” Dylan asked.
“I want to stay here for a minute or two before I see the major. It will remind me what I’m fighting for,” Tara said, though in reality, she wanted a few moments alone with Saul.
“Fair enough,” Dylan said, tugging on the sergeant’s arm. “See you in time for dinner, I hope.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Tara said, waving at their retreating backs.
Dylan and the sergeant disappeared into the distance, and Tara glanced at Saul. “It’s just me and you again, I guess.”
“Just like old times,” Saul agreed. He looped one arm around her waist and drew her closer to his side. “We finally made it, didn’t we?”
Tara nodded, basking in the warmth of his body. “We did. All those months spent traveling. First in the Congo, then Pointe-Noire.”
“Our plane getting rerouted to Marakesh in Morocco,” Saul continued. “Finally landing in the USA.”
“In Charlotte, no less,” Tara said.
“We were lucky to get an army escort to Fort Knox, and even luckier to get out of there alive when it was overrun,” Saul said.
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Tara said with a snort. “It was all you.”
“Not all me. You were pretty tough yourself,” Saul insisted. “And if it weren’t for you, I’d be a zombie today, craving brains. Not just any brains. Your deliciously clever brain.”
He mimed chewing on her head, and Tara giggled. “Zombies don’t care about brains.”
“This one does. Especially yours.”
Tara smiled, enjoying his good humor. “Seriously, though. I know what got us this far.”
“What’s that?”
“Fate got us here,” Tara said.
“Fate?”
“That’s right. We were meant to be here, now, today.”
“A scientist who believes in fate. Now there’s an oddity,” Saul mused.
“What can I say? I’m a complex woman, and something brought us together,” Tara said.
“Together,” Saul added, gazing down into her eyes as he pulled her ever closer.
“Just you and me,” Tara agreed, knowing he was about to kiss her, and this time, she let him. Saving the world could wait.
Chapter 7 - Dylan
It was a fair distance to their new home, and Dylan stared at her feet as they walked. Sergeant Dean was still very much an unknown quantity, and she wasn’t sure what to say to him. “So, have you got a name, Sergeant?”
“It’s Nick.”
“Nick for Nicholas?”
“Just Nick.”
“Have you got any family, Nick?”
“Used to. Not anymore,” he replied, not expanding on the topic.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. How about you?” he asked.
“Orphan. I grew up in foster care and spent the last few years in juvie.”
“Juvie? What for?”
“I stabbed my foster dad with a knife. Got him right in the gut,” Dylan said with a grim smile. “He didn’t die, however. More’s the pity.”
Nick shot her a disbelieving look but didn’t reply.
Silence fell between them once more, and she lengthened her strides, eager to get home. It wasn’t grand as houses went: A simple three-bedroom, two-bathroom affair in a quiet cul-de-sac. It had a pretty garden, though, and a patio where you could watch the sunset over a cup of coffee. Best of all, there were no nosy neighbors to contend with. The nearest occupied house was a block away. Major Reed probably did it out of spite, but to Dylan, it was a bonus.
Saul had added a couple of security features. Steel rods welded onto the window frames and an extra lock on all the doors.
