'Sir, permission to inquire whether I am addressing Captain Bannerman Clark, sir?'
'Granted, and yes, you are. What's going on? Speak candidly, son, I don't have all day.'
'Sir, I have special orders for you, sir, straight from the Pentagon.' The Civilian, Clark thought. The man with the marshmallow peeps. What was he thinking, issuing orders to a military unit during combat operations? 'We're supposed to track you down and send you home. You should take your platoon and head somewhere fortified, they told us. Hunker down and wait for further instructions.'
Clark sputtered in surprise. 'That's preposterous. There's still work to be done here and I'm not leaving until that work is done and it isn't done until I say when it is done!' Guilt, he thought. He was feeling guilty for his earlier doubts.
The Second Louey looked down at his flight boots. 'Sir, begging your pardon but I'm just the messenger and' sir, I've been flying over this town back and forth all day. I'm truly sorry but when you say there's work to be done'there's not. We haven't seen any sign of real survival since this morning.'
Ice cubes trickled down Clark's spine. 'That's,' he said softly. 'That's not the kind of attitude I like to hear,' he continued but he couldn't finish the rebuke. He tried to remember when the last survivor had climbed aboard the HEMTT. The last time they'd seen anyone else opposing the infected.
He took a second to think about what that meant, but only a second.
'Sergeant Horrocks,' he called, 'did you hear what this man had to say? It's time for us to make a tactical withdrawal.'
Formerly known as a retreat. The National Guard'and the Federal Government'had written Denver off.
'Get your asses in gear, my little babies,' Horrocks screamed at his platoon, walking away. 'We're popping smoke!' At the news some of the troops offered up a weary cheer.
Monster Nation
Chapter Three
Dear Sis:
The elms outside my window are dying, which hardly seems like a big deal now, does it? And yet I can't help but look at them, at the sickly leaves and the branches that just aren't budding. Someone came by today to paint them with medicine but stopped before he was half done, everyone is so distracted right now. Heard San Francisco was gone, now how could that be? How do you lose an entire city? The nurses turned off the television before I could find out. Please visit soon, if you can.
Love, Irene
[Letter delivered to an abandoned apartment in Minneapolis, MN 4/8/05]
The tiny house stood on short stilts above the floor of the box canyon. A narrow row of stairs lead up to a weathered wooden door that didn't quite fit its frame. Behind the house stood a white cylindrical tank, probably the fuel supply for a generator or a gas stove. Nilla spent most of an hour checking the place out, climbing the rocks all around. No road, not even a path lead to the misshapen door. As far as she could see in every direction lay nothing but desert. Who would live in such a desolate spot?
She was asking herself that question when the door swung open, revealing a rectangle of cool darkness beyond. Unable to move fast enough to find cover Nilla did what was starting to come natural'she hid away her energy, made herself invisible.
A man stepped out of the house and onto the first of the steps. He wore nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and a white beard that descended in bushy curls to the middle of his chest. His head was shaven, or perhaps just bald. His skin had the sallow shade of undyed leather and he looked like he might be a hundred years old or perhaps only sixty. He scratched the back of one thigh and stared right at Nilla. 'That's pretty good,' he said. 'Please, come inside. We need to talk.'
'I heard a guy on the tv today, I think he was an evangelist or something.'
'Yeah.'
'He was talking about the end of the world. Saying''
'Yeah.'
''right, saying maybe this, you know. Maybe this is it. Judgment day? And we're being punished because of our sins. And that got me to thinking''