Richard took one last look at his wife, and for the briefest moment, his mind registered the fact that, other than the red eyes, she looked just as beautiful now as she did the day he met her. Then she opened her mouth to scream and he squeezed the trigger.
Colonel Vickers stepped from the helicopter and strode across the open space that was now filled with blowing trash. Major Chappell was hot on his heels, her hands full with paperwork and briefcases. Before the second chopper touched down, the side door was sliding open and men with automatic weapons were slipping out and falling to the ground below. The squad members quickly double timed it away from the chopper as it shut down its engines and began to power down.
Colonel Vickers walked across the gravel lot and only gave a cursory glance at the natural amphitheater. He noted the equipment still on stage, the lights hanging askew, and the clothes and trash scattered about.
“If those are blood smears, we’ll need samples before the CDC gets here,” he announced. “And have them set a perimeter all along the natural borders, here, here, there, there, and I want a set of eyes up on that hill.”
Major Chappell nodded. “Consider it done, sir.” She glanced to the squad leader who simply nodded and hurried off to relay the colonel’s wishes. “And the Ghost Unit when it arrives?”
“Let them do what they do best, major,” the colonel said as he pulled open the door to the Visitor’s Center. “Search and destroy.”
“And are we caring about any non-infected civilian casualties, sir?” Major Chappell asked as the colonel led her through the room.
The colonel paused for just a moment and shook his head. “Not particularly, however, if this is what we think it is, the infected will have a much higher body temperature,” he explained. “If we use thermal goggles to search out all living things, we should be able to tell infected from non-infected.”
“And the primary mission, sir?”
Vickers paused again and smiled at her. “Is still our primary mission, Major. If we can capture one or more of the subjects, preferably in pristine condition, then that is our primary objective.” He turned and headed for the office in the rear of the center. “But we are in no way to allow the CDC to know about the primary objective. The primary is strictly black book, off the record.” He paused at the door and pointed his finger at her. “Remember what I told you about plausible deniability? That’s why,” he reiterated as he tried the knob.
Vickers stepped back half a step and stared at the locked door. “Your sidearm, Major,” he ordered as he held out his hand. Margaret Chappell pulled her Beretta 9mm and handed it to Colonel Vickers. He released the safety and aimed at the doorknob.
The door opened just before Vickers squeezed the trigger. “Most people just fucking knock,” Hatcher spat as he stood and stared at the man with the gun in his hand.
Vickers stood with the gun still aimed at Hatcher’s dangly bits and for just a moment, Daniel wondered if he might still pull the trigger. Vickers set the safety again and handed the weapon back to Major Chappell. He pasted on a smile that sent a cold chill down Hatcher’s back. “I’m Colonel Vickers. And you are?”
“Ranger Daniel Hatcher.” Hatch did his best to keep a poker face. “This is my park and my office.”
“Hatcher? I believe we spoke on the radio.” Vickers pushed his way in to the tiny office. “We’ll be setting this up as our primary command post, Major.” He ignored Hatcher and moved behind the desk. “Have the unit commander report to me here.”
“Very well, sir.” Major Chappell turned to leave.
“Hold on there just a moment.” Hatcher turned and faced Vickers. “I just told you, this is my office.”
“Yes, and thank you for vacating it.” Vickers motioned toward the door. “I have a lot of work to do now, so…”
Hatcher was just about to unload a double barrel mouthful of Grade A, Choice, Prime Cut curse words, when two men he’d not noticed appeared out of nowhere and scooped him up from under the arms and dragged him out of his own office. Vickers stuck his head out of the door and motioned to Hatcher, “Congratulations on getting out of that tower. I hope the rest of your people have as much luck in getting back here before my men go to work.”
Chapter 3
Buck and Skeeter continued down the hill, slipping from car to car, sliding between the parked vehicles, and when the occasion called for it, sliding under a taller vehicle if they thought they heard or saw something that was a bit too close. As the two now pressed themselves into the ground under an SUV, Skeeter peered past Buck to the rear of the auto.
“I don’t see anything,” she whispered. “I think it’s clear.”
Buck continued to lay where he was, his face turned away from her. Skeeter edged out farther and stole a quick glance in both directions. Sliding back to her hiding position, she tapped Buck. “The coast is clear. We should move out.”
Skeeter began to scoot closer to the edge again and noticed Buck not moving. She paused and studied his form in the dark shadows of the car’s undercarriage. Scooting closer to him, she placed a tentative hand on his shoulders and felt his body shaking, the silent sobs reverberating through his body. Skeeter inhaled deeply and moved closer to him. She wrapped a comforting arm around him, but he pushed her away.
“Stop,” he whispered.
“It’s okay,” she replied softly.
“You have no idea.”
“I understand you’re sad,” she said. “I’m upset, too. I’ve lost my sister and—”
“I’ve lost my entire fucking family,” he nearly shouted. He caught himself and
