He stared at the transmitter. This had seemed like a daunting task when they cooked it up. It seemed twice as daunting now that the transmitter was staring him in the face. It was too large for a backpack he’d nabbed from the Mustang. If they had to run, there was no way he could hang onto the damn thing.
He dropped his backpack to the floor and pulled out his Swiss Army knife. He sliced a few holes, then held up the backpack to survey it.
“What are you doing?” Lena asked.
Dal shook his head, too focused to answer. He ripped a few plugs out of the walls and threaded them through the holes in the backpack. Then he set the transmitter on top and lashed it into the place with the cords.
He slung it across his back, testing his contraption. It was heavy, but appeared secure.
“Could we hot wire one of the cars in the parking lot?” Lena asked. “That would be faster than going back to the Mustang. I don’t suppose you know how to hot wire a car?” She directed this question to her father.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dal said. “The Russians attacked the parking lot. I barely made it out. It could be crawling with infected.”
“What about the ag department?” Mr. Cecchino hunched over as a cough wracked him. His hands shook. He tried to hide it by bunching them. “There’s another parking lot over there.”
He was right. Dal hadn’t thought about that. Mr. Cecchino had gone to Rossi junior college and gotten his associates degree in business farming. It was where he’d met Mrs. Cecchino, also an ag major.
The ag department was on the west side of campus, separated from the the rest of the buildings by the football field. There was a parking lot over there that was tucked in behind the buildings and didn’t get a lot of use.
Dal crossed to the window, looking west toward the ag department. What he saw made him start to sweat. “Um, I don’t think we’re going to the ag lot.”
“Why not?” Lena joined him at the window. The sight outside made her pale. “Oh.”
Stalking through the campus below them were several dozen nezhit. Dal realized they had likely drawn them with the gunfire. The infected were everywhere, the black-veined faces blending in with the night. They stalked the campus like animals, growling as they scanned their surroundings.
And they were right outside the only door in and out of the building.
Chapter 22Trapped
“COULD WE GO OUT A WINDOW on the other side of the building?” Lena asked.
Dal shook his head. “The classroom windows on the first floor are all small and high up. They don’t even have latches that open.”
Mr. Cecchino doubled over with a fit of coughing. He coughed so hard that bits of blood flew from his mouth. Dal saw the tips of several black veins were already edging up along his neck.
“Dad?” Lena put a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m fine, sweetie.” Lena just stared at him. Mr. Cecchino sighed and ran a hand over his damp face. “I’m not fine, honey. We both know what’s in store for me.”
Lena’s eyes overflowed with tears. Her grief was silent, unaccented by sobs or crying.
Dal felt his rage beginning to rear its head. He struggled to tamp it down.
They’d lost Mrs. Cecchino only two years ago. Dal wasn’t ready to lose the second half of the equation that had given sanity to his childhood.
“No,” Dal said. “We’re going to get help.” He hefted the transmitter, swinging the backpack across his shoulders. Thank God for all those years working in the orchard. His broad shoulders and back muscles could handle the weight of the equipment, though he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t heavy. “We’re going to get help and you’re going to be okay, Mr. Cecchino.” His chest heaved with emotion. He fought the urge to break something.
“Dal.” Lena stretched a hand in his direction. This time, he didn’t fight her. He gripped her hand and squeezed. She kept him grounded.
Mr. Cecchino joined them. The three of them stood in a tight circle, holding tightly on to one another. Lena’s eyes never stopped streaming tears. Dal’s chest heaved with fear and frustration that threatened to burst out of him.
“You’re both going to be okay,” Mr. Cecchino said after a long pause. “I’m going to help you get to the ag parking lot.”
“No—” Dal began.
“Dallas.” Mr. Cecchino cut him off. “If I have to go, at least let my last moments have some meaning. I’ll rest easy knowing I helped you and Lena get away.”
This couldn’t be happening. Rage swirled in Dal’s chest. The desire to smash something was so strong it made his chest hurt. He held onto Lena’s hand, focusing on the feel of her fingers. It was like holding onto a single thread of sanity.
Is this how his father felt, when he lashed out at his mother? When he’d beaten Dal?
Dal had always known he’d inherited the invisible beast of rage from his father. It was an ugly secret he carried around. The knowledge scared him almost as much as the thought of losing Mr. Cecchino. Most days, the monster never reared its head. It was only in times of stress and sorrow that it clawed its way to the surface.
He had to focus on Lena. He had to focus on keeping her safe. It was the only way he could survive what was about to come.
“Come on,” Mr. Cecchino said. “I don’t have much time.” This statement was followed by another fit of coughing.
The three of them trooped back down the stairs to the first floor. Dal lugged the transmitter on his back. He was so focused on Mr. Cecchino that he didn’t notice the weight.
They picked their way over the infected people they’d killed. Dal blocked out the feelings that churned in his gut at the sight of the bodies. He couldn’t afford to
