?Got it,? she announced, disconnecting the headset and leaning over to flick on the nearest video feedback screen. The image of Shaun holding back his decaying pal with the hockey stick flickered into view. No sound came from the van?s main speakers. A single moan can attract zombies from a mile away if you?re unlucky with your acoustics, and it?s not safe to soundproof in the field. Soundproofing works both ways, and zombies tend to surround structures on the off chance they might contain things to eat or infect. Opening the van doors to find ourselves surrounded by a pack we didn?t hear coming didn?t particularly appeal to any of us.
?The image is a little fuzzy, but I?ve filtered out most of the visual artifacts, and I can clean it further once I?ve had the chance to hit the source files. Georgia, thanks for remembering to put your helmet on before you started driving. The front-mount camera worked like a charm.?
To be honest, I hadn?t remembered that the camera was there. I?d been too focused on not cracking my skull open. Still, I nodded agreeably, taking a long drink of Coke before saying, ?No problem. How many of the cameras kept feeding through the chase??
?Three of the four. Shaun?s helmet didn?t come on until you were almost here.?
?Shaun didn?t have time to put on his helmet, or he would have ceased to have a head,? Shaun protested.
?Shaun needs to stop talking about himself in the third person,? Buffy said, and hit a button on her keyboard. The image was replaced by a close-up shot of the flickering lights on our blood tests. ?I want to screenshot this for the main site. What do you think??
?Whatever you say,? I said. The screen broadcasting our main external security camera was showing an abandoned, undisturbed landscape. Nothing moved in Watsonville. ?You know I don?t care about the graphics.?
?And that?s why your ratings aren?t higher, George,? said Shaun. ?I like the lights. Use them as a slow fade in tonight?s teaser, too?tack on something about, I don?t know, how close is too close, that whole old saw.?
??Close Encounters on the Edge of the Grave,? ? I murmured, moving toward the screen. It was a little too unmoving out there. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I?ve learned to pay attention to my instincts. God knows Shaun and Buffy weren?t paying attention to anything but tomorrow?s headlines.
Shaun grinned. ?I like it. Grayscale the image except for the lights and use that.?
?On it.? Buffy typed a quick note before shutting down the screen. ?Have we got any more big plans for the afternoon, folks??
?Getting out of here,? I said, turning back to the others. ?I?m on the bike. I?ll take point, but we need to get back to civilization.?
Buffy blinked at me, looking baffled. She?s a Fictional; her style of blogging is totally self-contained, and she only sees the field when Shaun and I haul her out to work our equipment. Even then, she pretty much never leaves the van. It?s not her job to pay attention to anything that doesn?t live on a computer screen.
Shaun, on the other hand, sobered immediately. ?Why??
?There?s nothing moving out there.? I opened the back door, scanning the land more closely. It had taken me a few minutes?maybe too long?to realize what was wrong, but now that I?d seen it, it was obvious.
There should always be something moving in a town the size of Watsonville. Feral cats, rabbits, even herds of wild deer looking for the overgrown remains of what used to be gardens. We?ve seen everything from goats to somebody?s abandoned Shetland pony wandering through the remains of the old towns, living off the land. So where were they? There wasn?t as much as a squirrel in sight.
Shaun grimaced. ?Crap.?
?Crap,? I agreed. ?Buffy, grab your gear.?
?I?ll drive,? Shaun said, and started for the front of the van.
Buffy was looking between us with wide-eyed bafflement. ?Okay, does somebody want to tell me what?s causing the evacuation?? she demanded.
?There aren?t any animals,? Shaun said, dropping into the driver?s seat.
I paused while yanking my gloves back on, taking pity, and replied, ?Nothing clears the wildlife like the infected. We need to get out of here before we have??
As if on cue, a low, distant moan came through the van?s back door, carried by the prevailing winds. I grimaced.
??company,? Shaun and I finished, in unison.
?Race you home,? I called, and ducked out the door. Buffy slammed it behind me, and I heard all three bolts click home. Even if I screamed, they?d never let me back inside. That?s the protocol when you?re in the field. No matter how loudly you yell, they never let you in.
Not if they want to live, anyway.