Tara must have felt the same because she whispered. “We did it, Saul. We’re here. I almost can’t believe it. I must be dreaming. Tell me I’m not dreaming.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Feel that? You’re not dreaming. This is where we are meant to be, Tara. This is where the fight for humanity truly begins. Here and now.”
Tara nodded. “I like that. Here and now. Together.”
The End.
Apocalypse Z - Book 3
Chapter 1 - Tara
Tara paced up and down the length of the hallway, her strides long and swift. Whenever she reached the end, she’d pivot around and repeat the procedure. The rubber soles of her boots squeaked with every turn, accompanied by the swish of her long coat.
At the end of the hall waited a closed door flanked by two soldiers, their expressions blank and emotionless. For a moment, she considered talking to them again, but one look at their cold faces deterred her. They hadn’t listened to her so far. Why would they start now?
With a sigh, she dropped onto a nearby wooden bench, picking at her jeans with nervous tension. She had no choice but to wait, so wait, she did. A clock on the wall ticked down the minutes, brightly lit by the fluorescent bulbs that ran along the ceiling.
After forty-three minutes, the door opened, and a trio of men exited the room beyond. All three were junior officers, dressed in full combat gear and armed to the teeth. Neither acknowledged her beyond a curt nod. She’d have thought them rude if her keen gaze didn’t detect the exhaustion evident in the lines around their eyes and mouths. They’re overworked. Tired and stressed.
It meshed with the little she’d seen of the Fort so far. The once-mighty base was a shadow of its former self, running on skeleton staff and back-up generators. Supplies were scarce, morale low, and no one was willing to talk.
A week had passed since she first arrived with Saul, Dylan, and Ethan. A week during which all her hopes and dreams had been shattered. Her thoughts wandered back to that night, and she could still remember the excitement that fizzed through her veins. The certainty she’d felt knowing they’d arrived. That was all gone now.
Instead, upon hearing that Saul and Dylan were survivors of the Vita virus, the major in charge of the base had tossed them each into a cell. He called it quarantine. She called it imprisonment. Her research and the remaining three vials of the cure were confiscated, and she confined to a small room with little freedom. Ethan was taken to the infirmary and put to work treating patients, and she hadn’t seen any of them since.
“Dr. Lee. You may enter now,” a stern voice announced, dragging her from her thoughts.
She jumped up and walked over until she came face to face with a tall man in his mid-forties. They shook hands, and she said, “Thank you for seeing me again, Major Reed.”
“Come inside,” he answered, closing the door behind her.
Tara cast her eyes around the major’s office, taking in every detail. This was the third time they met, but the first time she’d been allowed inside his inner sanctum. The room was spartan, containing little more than a desk, a couple of chairs, and filing cabinets. A map filled with colored pins and post-its covered one wall. It was the kind of room she’d expect of a man with little patience for frivolity and waste — a practical man.
Thus far, all of her efforts to convince Major Owen Reed to assist her in her mission had failed. Hopefully, this time, he’d listen.
The major stepped behind his desk and waved her to a chair. “How can I help you, Dr. Lee?”
“You already know why I’m here, Major,” Tara said, studying his appearance. Like his men, he looked tired. Deep grooves lined his tanned face, and his dark hair, cropped short, showed signs of silver at the temples.
“I do, and I cannot fulfill your request. I’ve told you so already. Yet, here you are wasting my time again,” he answered in brisk tones. “Your friends will remain in quarantine until I’m one hundred percent certain they don’t pose a risk to my men.”
“I assure you they’re not a threat, Major. I can vouch for that,” Tara said.
“Tell that to your friend Miss Young. Twice already, she’s displayed unreasonable fits of anger. She’s difficult to handle and hostile.”
“You mean Dylan?” Tara asked.
“Yes, Dylan. We quizzed her on her background. Did you know she was in juvenile detention for most of her teen years?”
“No, I didn’t,” Tara admitted.
“Then is seems you don’t know Miss Young as well as you thought you did,” Major Reed said. “And now, she’s refusing to cooperate.”
“Do you blame her? We barely got here, and you tossed her into prison!”
“Quarantine.”
“Call it what you like. That doesn’t change the facts,” Tara said, secretly cursing Dylan for making things even worse. Can’t she behave just once in her life?
“Be that as it may, she’s dangerous,” the major replied with a stubborn set to his jaw.
Tara rolled her eyes. “She’s not dangerous. Just rebellious. It’s got nothing to do with the virus or the cure, I promise.”
“I don’t know you, Dr. Lee, so your assurances mean nothing to me,” Major Reed said.
“I’m an employee of USAMRIID. A Research Scientist with years of experience both in-house and out in the field,” Tara protested. “I know what I’m talking about.”
“I’m aware of your status, Dr. Lee,” the major said, stressing the word Doctor in a manner that made it clear he didn’t trust her. “Unfortunately, I have no way of vetting your so-called credentials.”
“Surely, there has to be someone who can speak for me? Records? Anything?” Tara said. “Where are
