“The mission was a success, though,” Mattis says.
Anne nods. “The Infected won’t be crossing that bridge.”
“Outstanding.”
“Is that what all this is about?”
The Captain sighs. “Not exactly. The good citizens are celebrating because the military has arrived. Army units are dropping at refugee camps around the East Coast. A single company showed up and now everyone thinks it’s going to be over in a few days and they can go home.”
“It’s about time the Army pulled its weight, in any case,” Anne says.
Mattis smiles and shrugs. As a military man, he can say no more.
“People at the camp know what you did, though,” he tells her. “Word’s been going around all night about it. It’s a day of wonders.”
“It’s the worst day of my life,” Todd says.
“You saved all of us,” Mattis goes on, holding out a box. “You’re giving these people hope, son. That’s an important thing. Make sure you get your ribbon.”
Anne holds one up and laughs, startling Todd, who never heard her laugh even once in all their time together.
“It’s a dog show ribbon,” she says.
“Best of breed, to be exact,” Mattis admits with a smile.
Todd stares at the purple and gold ribbon clutched in his hand. He can hardly speak; it’s ludicrous. “What the heck is this?” he demands.
“We can’t pay you. We don’t have anything to pay you with. All we can do is try to honor you. Everyone at the camp knows about what you did and that you are wearing these ribbons. You’re going to have a hundred and thirty thousand people treating you like a hero for the next few weeks. Extra food, extra showers, you name it.”
Anne takes the ribbon from his hand and pins it to his T-shirt. Mattis stands back and salutes.
“Welcome home, son.”
One by one, the survivors stagger off the bus and are welcomed by the cheering crowd. They huddle together, blinking tears. The more the people applaud, the more the survivors cry. Someone whistles and Todd flinches. He keeps seeing gray faces lunge out of the crowd. Faces of the Infected howling for his throat, spraying spittle rich with virus.
“If you don’t feel right in the head tomorrow, come and find me,” Anne says. “I’ll be here.”
“Wait,” Todd says, scanning the crowd. “Where’s Ray Young?”
He turns back, but Anne is gone. And Ray is nowhere to be found among the sea of empty, grinning faces. Someone presses a warm can of beer into his hand and tells him to drink up.
“Ray!” he cries.
A girl walks out of the crowd. He catches a glimpse of her blue eyes and wild red hair before she cups his face in her hands and kisses him. The crowd applauds heartily and whistles, the sound blending with the roar of blood rushing through his ears.
“Erin,” he gasps. “It’s you.”
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
She takes his hand and leads him through the clamoring mob. Hands clap him on the back and seek out his to shake. He gives someone the can of beer. As they reach the rear of the crowd, they disappear into the darkness, navigating by the dim light of cooking fires. Erin appears to know the maze by feel alone.
Todd can smell her on the breeze. His hand sweats against hers. She leans against him as they walk through the warm, humid night, and he becomes aware of her chest pressed against his arm. He remembers she does not wear a bra.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you home, baby.”
He wonders if he is hallucinating. He feels like he could sleep for days. Just a few hours ago, he was standing on the bridge in the sunlight, screaming for his friends, as it exploded in a blinding white flash. The monster charged, a giant thing covered in flailing trunks, each bellowing its deafening foghorn call. He and Ray stood their ground among the piles of dead, emptying their guns at the thing until it fell through the bottom of the world.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
Then he is back at Camp Defiance, walking among the shanties with this beautiful creature he thought he’d never see again.
She asks him again if there is something wrong.
“I don’t know,” he says.
“You’re not hurt, are you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I had to ask. You may not know this, but you’re, like, covered in blood.”
“Oh,” he says, touching his chest. His shirt feels stiff as cardboard. His entire body hurts, but he does not believe anything is broken. “I didn’t know.”
“You also smell like smoke and sour milk,” she laughs. “Come on.”
Erin leads him into the small shack and lights two candles, revealing a bucket of water and a stack of towels on a blanket.
“Take off your clothes,” she says.
“I don’t have anything,” he tells her. “You took it all already.”
“Do as I say, mister.”
He obeys, peeling off his grimy shirt and tossing it into the corner. Then his boots and socks and pants. None of it is salvageable. He is going to have to burn all of it, and find more. Last, he tosses his gun belt and pistol on top of the pile.
“Now lie down.”
He stretches out his long, gangly body on the blanket. Erin dips a sponge into the foamy bucket, wrings it out, and gently rubs him down. Pure bliss.
“Why did you come back?” he asks her. “You really hurt me.”
Todd arrived at the camp with a bag full of DC-powered electronic gear, hoping to use it as capital to set up a trading business. Erin marked him, seduced him and robbed him. Reeling from the blow, he sought out Sarge and Wendy and signed up for the mission to destroy the bridge.
“I’m sorry for what I did to you,” she says, blinking tears. “I didn’t know. What you did, going to that bridge. . . You’re an amazing boy. I really hoped you would make it back.”
“My friends are dead,” he says.
“Tell me about it.” She pulls her shirt up and over her head. “Tell me everything.”
¦
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