“Vibeke!”
Poltava didn’t exactly hug me, but she did sling a gore-splattered arm around me for a quick squeeze. “Glad you’re alive,” she said. “What’s there to eat around here?”
“Pastrami.”
She wrinkled her nose, then tugged me toward the gates. Hammond and Durkee were standing there over a table, heads bent over what looked like maps of the city. I imagined talk of logistics. Rerouting soldiers. Weak points along the fenceline. Extra stashes of MREs.
Poltava had a new insignia on her uniform, and I pointed at it. “What are you now?
“First Sergeant.”
“Really?”
“Field promotion,” she said. “Struthers got munched.”
That was how Hammond had become general, way back when. I guess that’s war for you: One man’s death is another man’s pay raise.
“They’re putting me in charge of cleaning up the Quarantine Zone,” she said.
“You’re gonna need a lot of bleach,” I said.
By now we had reached our illustrious commanders. They appeared to be arguing over who was really in charge.
“It’s your city,” the general said.
“And I’ve been locked up for months. Half the population still thinks I’m dead. It’s your show, General Hammond. I’ll back you.”
Hammond gazed over us, his dark eyes thoughtful.
“Kids, we’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do,” he said. “I’m hearing of friction between the military and civilians. I know we experienced the same thing in Elderwood, but we can’t have that here. We need each other—need to defend this city and everyone in it.”
Poltava and I nodded. Others were gathering around us: Tony and Dax crowded around, and more soldiers joined what was rapidly becoming a small circle.
Hammond went on: “It’s easy to say yes, isn’t it? To agree with me. We’re all full of great sentiment right now. It might even carry us for a couple days. But don’t get too swept up in this Era of Good Feelings. It’s not going to last and all the same bullshit we dealt with before will rear its ugly head. So here’s how it’s going to work.”
He straightened. “Durkee and his men know the city. They, along with the Elderwood militia, will bring the city’s internal defenses back up to code, so to speak. Mending fences, clearing out alleys, chasing revenants. My men will work on the perimeter. Once this city is safe—and only when it’s safe—will we move forward and reorganize, or…whatever we need to do.
“And we have to get along. I’ve had scouts going out since day one. At this point, Hastings is everyone’s best bet for survival, because believe me, there is nothing else out there. This city falls, we’re one big baggage train. And I’m pretty sure no one wants that. These are good walls. We should take care of them.”
More nodding. This all sounded great.
“On the Elderwood side, not much will change. The militia will report to Poltava, who will work directly with Durkee. If the citizens of Hastings want to join, they are welcome to, and we’ll begin training as soon as we can get something set up.”
Militia. I saw Tony perk up upon hearing mention of it. So the militia was still around. I guess that meant we’d have something to do.
Durkee cleared his throat.
Hammond sighed. “There’s one more thing.”
Uh-oh.
“We can’t find Keller.”
Of course they couldn’t.
“He won’t last long in that Quarantine Zone,” Poltava said. “I had one scout come back from there. He used words like ‘nightmarish.’”
“If that’s where he went,” Hammond said. “It’s likely, but not certain. Regardless, we need to keep an eye out. All of us. My men don’t know what he looks like, though I’ve provided as much of a description as I can.”
After a moment, he gestured. “Go on. Get some rest. The captain and I will work out our immediate plan by then.”
The small crowd began to disperse.
Poltava nudged me. “The militia will need a medic when we go in there to clean up.”
I pictured the militia rolling into the Quarantine Zone with mops and disinfectants clutched in their hands.
“We could use you,” she pressed.
I didn’t think I could bear going back to the medical center, even if Samuels took over. The idea standing over a person, trying to figure out if they would live or die, if something I did wrong or right might define what remained of the rest of their life, made my stomach twist into a familiar knot.
Give me a good clean firefight—and the truly dead, instead of the living and dying—any day.
What’s happening to me?
“Sure,” I said.
If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. She just clapped me on the shoulder and headed for Durkee. I’m sure they had much to discuss.