“That’s a big fat negatory, Baby Bird. The only tracks I see is ours.”
Stain pressed the radio to his forehead and squeezed the black box in frustration. “Keep looking.”
“We’re on it.” The radio went silent and Stain shoved it back into his jacket.
“This town is huge, Stain. Leads plum into Albuquerque. We could be searching for days.”
Stain nodded as he kicked off his motorcycle. “Then we look for days.” He shot the man a dirty look. “And if we don’t find him, we search for weeks.”
“But what if he got et?”
He turned and gave him a hateful glare. “They ain’t gonna eat his ride, man. We find the Indian, we find Squirrel. If we don’t find Squirrel, then we can assume he got et.”
Shithead nodded, the logic slowly sinking in. He kicked his bike into gear and pulled out behind Stain. He really didn’t want to ask him what they’d do if Squirrel hid his bike or parked it in some garage before he got et.
“He was working on the virus before the outbreak!” Vivian’s face was nearly red from running to the Command Duty Officer. “We have to find out where he was doing his research and get his papers.”
The man shook his head. “We have no idea where Captain Andrews was assigned before the outbreak. If he was working on the virus it was surely at some black operation lab.”
“There has to be a record somewhere.” The desperation in her voice wasn’t missed. “Just…radio Captain Hollis and he can stop by wherever the lab was and pick up the research.” She stepped closer to the man and lowered her voice, “We are this close to finding the answer. I just know that research will help put us over the top.”
The man sighed and gave her a solemn look. “As I’ve tried to explain Doctor LaRue, we have no way of knowing where he was assigned. And if we could find out, who’s to say it isn’t overrun with Zeds.”
She clenched her jaw and glared at him. “I want to speak to your commanding officer.”
“That would be the captain of the ship, ma’am and he’s currently in video conference with the fleet admiral. I can’t interrupt—”
“You can and you will. Or I will.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Surely somebody in this flotilla knows where Andrews was working. Or they can find out.”
The Command Duty Officer groaned and threw his hands in the air. “Fine. You know what? I’ll check into it. I can’t guarantee you anything, but…I can make a few calls. Maybe Colonel Vickers can—”
“Yes! Colonel Vickers was working with Andrews. Surely he knows!” She urged him forward. “Call him. Now, please.”
“But I’m afraid I have some bad news.” She looked to him expectantly and he shook his head. “We’ve lost contact with the helicopter that Captain Hollis and his men were on. We know that the team was dropped at the LZ, and we have reason to believe they were about to be picked up but…”
“But what?” Her eyes were wide with fear. “Lieutenant, we need that primordial sample.”
“I understand that, ma’am, and we have people trying to restore radio contact, but…it doesn’t look promising.”
“Why not?”
He blew his breath out hard. “We believe the chopper was lost. Possibly with all hands.”
“Then send another chopper.” She heard her voice rise in pitch and volume and had to force herself to lower it. “Seriously, Lieutenant, that sample is paramount to us finding a lasting cure. We have treatments we’re testing, but in order to find an actual cure, we need that sample.”
“Understood, ma’am, and that is what the captain is discussing with the fleet admiral. As soon as we know something I’ll let you know.” He gave her a solemn look. “And I promise you, I’ll try to contact Colonel Vickers and find out where your Captain Andrews was working. If we can restore contact with the retrieval team, and if the operation is approved, I’ll talk to the captain about redirecting the team to get the research.”
“Thank you, lieutenant.”
“Don’t thank me yet. That’s a lot of if’s, maybe’s and possibly’s. I make no promises.”
She felt the tension leave her shoulders as soon as he turned and walked away. If there was any hope left, it all rested on what the chain of command decided to do next. She prayed they had the foresight to do the right thing.
Roger rode away from the warehouse and did his best to avoid the intersection where Henry and Wally were parking the box truck. He didn’t want to leave any tracks on the road leading to the warehouse. He couldn’t risk any of Simon’s men spotting them.
He went the long way around the block and came back out on the main road. He pulled to the shade of an overhang and parked his Indian. Slipping off the bike, he listened for any kind of sound. Satisfied there was nothing close by, he mounted his bike and rode by the box truck. Without studying the road very hard he couldn’t tell that anything had been moved since the outbreak.
The burned-out shell of the Civic still sat at the station, but it could have happened weeks ago. He smiled to himself and goosed the throttle. He actually enjoyed the feel of the wind on his face as he rode through the empty town.
He slowed at a blocked intersection and weaved the bike between wrecked cars. He exited the other side and moved to the left lane to avoid the line of cars parked in the road. Farther up he discovered the cause of the blockage.
There had been another wreck and a firetruck blocked nearly both lanes. He studied the scene for a moment and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. This would be the perfect place to form a trap.
He held the front brake of the bike and revved the engine, sliding the
