“Fucking A,” Alice said, placing her hands on her hips. Wexler appraised her and smiled before rubbing the close-cropped hair on his head.
“When the disease titled A4N9 became labeled as a pandemic, the United States government began setting up quarantine zones as well as safe havens across the country. This one was completed first as a centralized location.” He paused and looked at them all. “It was also the only one completed.”
“What?” Quinn said.
“The disease moved too fast for the other havens to be finished. The kill rate was unbelievable. Just when we thought the worst had passed, another wave of sickness would roll over. Millions upon millions of infected dying in their homes, the streets, their cars, everywhere. And then we began to see them.” Wexler scratched the stubble on his jaw and gazed down at the floor.
“You mean the stilts,” Quinn said.
“Stilts? Yeah, that’s a good name for them. We never really had an official title to call them, never received any protocol.” He laughed, but it held no humor. “Never received a lot of things.”
“That’s where all the shells came from outside, isn’t it?” Quinn said, ice water pooling in the pit of his stomach. “You were shooting at them, weren’t you?”
Wexler nodded without looking up. “The last strings of refugees were coming in five days ago. The quarantines broke down as soon as they were established. Everyone was sick. Those who weren’t were immune, simple as that. We didn’t realize what was coming, we had zero intel. And then they were just there, all around us.” Wexler fumbled in his pocket and drew out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit the smoke and drew hard on it, expelling a white plume into the air as the rain drummed harder on the tent. “We took hundreds of them down, but they kept coming until dark and then they just vanished, pulled away their dead. I saw a few eating their own, but the worst thing was the people coming in were caught in the crossfire. Some were dragged off, but a lot got blown to pieces during all the fighting.” Wexler coughed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s when I had the most men under my command.”
“Lieutenant, where is everyone? Where’s the refugees and the rest of your troops?” Quinn asked in a low voice as lightning slit the sky’s belly. Wexler took another drag on his cigarette, the smoke turning his eyes a sick, milky green as he stared through it.
“They’re dead. We’re all that’s left.”
Chapter 26
Questions and Answers
“What do you mean you’re all that’s left?” Alice asked, her voice rising in pitch. “You’re all that’s left of your company?”
“We’re all that’s left of the United States Army, ma’am. When this shit went down, they had cases springing up in Russia, England, Germany, Australia, and Canada. Deployments went everywhere, but we were all given comm codes to reach the other havens. That’s how I know they were never finished. There were mass AWOL reports at first and then everyone was sick. The last haven I heard from was in northern Texas, and the Captain in charge there was delirious with fever. He said the things people were becoming were the future and there was no resisting them. Those that were immune were the damned and they’d be the ones to suffer the most.”
Quinn crossed his arms to keep them from shaking. I wonder if we’re the damned? “There’s got to be other posts out there. Someone must’ve survived,” he said.
“Listen bud, I manned the comms myself until most lines dropped off the grid. The last contact we had with the outside was three days ago. There’s been nothing but silence ever since.”
“Oh my God,” Alice said, and slowly sat in a chair. She pulled Ty into her lap, and Denver slumped to the ground near her feet.