by M. Van
Mars offered me his hand along with that disarming smile. His hand felt so warm in contrast to mine. My heart hammered at a frantic pace as I gathered the courage to face him. As I looked up, I found a twinkle in his eyes that would have turned my legs to jelly if I hadn’t been sitting already.
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” I said.
“Well, you should be,” he said in a serious-sounding voice. I narrowed my eyes at him, curious to see whether he was serious or not.
“I want to know everything,” he said.
“You … w-w-what?” I said with a stutter.
“Everything about you—now!”
I chuckled. The words, combined with his sheepish expression, disarmed me.
“I don’t want to talk about me,” I said, turning my eyes away from him.
“Why not?” he asked with genuine surprise in his voice, “I wanna know about you, prezombie invasion.”
Unsure what to say, I glanced out the window, but darkness prevented me to see the passing landscape as the bus drove by.
“I never really liked that person … I mean, this is who we are now, right?” I said and forced a smile as I turned to him. “Maybe you should talk about you.”
His face scrunched up, and he narrowed his eyes at me; then he cleared his throat.
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk then,” he said at a whisper and leaned in.
Thousands of internal conversations with myself rushed through my head for the seconds it took for his lips to reach mine. They ranged from good for me, bad for me, I don’t know this guy, to future long-distance relationships, which seemed ludicrous, but they all grinded to a stop as I realized that in a different life I should have been dead. This could be a second chance, and maybe I should take it. After that, all I could feel and taste was Mars, and it tasted better than the candy his nickname suggested.
“Mags, you comin’,” Ash yelled, louder than necessary. Startled, Mars and I pulled apart and peeked over the seat.
Through the window, I could see the bus had parked on what looked like a road inside a building. Dim lights illuminated concrete walls and a couple of soldiers standing in front of a massive entranceway.
At the front of the bus, I could see Angie carry Ash on her back, and they were about to step out of the vehicle. That image looked somewhat odd to me, because although I knew Angie to be a strong, capable woman, she was on the short side and the proportions with Ash on her back seemed all wrong, so I chuckled.
Mars extended his hand to help me up. The grin on his face was unmistakable. As I stood, I stopped for a moment to gaze into his eyes and could not help smile at the cheekiness they revealed. Knowing the bus had emptied, I allowed myself that chance to kiss him again before I let him guide me down the aisle and out of the bus. His hand on the small on my back felt strangely reassuring.
“Check it out,” Ash exclaimed as we lined up outside the bus. “That’s the actual door they used in Stargate.”
Tyler beamed with pride as he glanced at Ash hanging off Angie’s back.
“I thought you didn’t know anything about Cheyenne,” I said.
“Well, I don’t, but Tyler explained, and I’ve seen the show once or twice.”
Sergeant Tyler’s smile reached a point where I was afraid it might get stuck.
“That is a three-feet solid-steel door that weighs about 25 tons,” Sergeant Tyler started to explain, “and we have three of them.” I didn’t share his or Ash’s enthusiasm. The thought of being inside a mountain didn’t excite me as much as it did Ash, but I gave the sergeant appreciative nods as he spoke.
We followed him past one of the massive doors into a large cavernous space that partly looked like an actual cave with ragged rocks, but in other parts had pristine white walls along with windows that made up several buildings. Vehicles passed us as we walked in a line behind Tyler. Around us, men and women dressed different military gear moved with purpose, either performing some job like driving around forklifts or working mechanics on engines or running around with a clipboard. It was a lot to take in.
Sergeant Tyler led us up a few steps and then had us weaving through several hallways. I had also seen some of that TV show Ash had mentioned before, but besides the doors and probably the entrance to the tunnel, which I had missed because I was otherwise engaged, it didn’t look anything like it. To me, it all looked like a giant office building with barren hallways and lots of doors. The only thing missing was light filtering in through windows, which added to my claustrophobic feeling. The fact I hadn’t seen anyone since we made the last couple of turns felt a little off as well.
Sergeant Tyler stopped at a T-junction in the hallway. He pointed down one end of the hall where two soldiers stood on both sides of a door.
“Your accommodations. I suggest you freshen up, and Agent Meadow can show you around,” he said. “Guards will be assigned to you twenty-four-seven. If you need anything, you can ask them.”
“Wait a minute. Around the clock guards?” I said agitatedly. “Are we prisoners?”
Tyler turned to face me as he spoke. “You are our guests, but we cannot have you wandering around this place. You’ll have free access to certain facilities like our mess hall, but only if you have an escort.”
I frowned at the man to show my disapproval, but he had already turned his attention elsewhere.
“Agent,” he said to Mars, “if you follow me, the general would like to speak with you.”
Mars nodded at the man before he turned to me.
“Wait up for me?” he asked in a whisper. I nodded and watched him follow Tyler. Before he cornered the hall, he glanced back at me with a grin. My heart lifted as if I were a schoolgirl with a crush.
When my focus returned to Ash and Angie, I noticed them staring at me with sheepish expressions.
“Come on, Juliet. Romeo shall return soon,” Angie said.
Ash burst out laughing, and it returned my feet firmly to the ground. As my face went crimson, I pulled a hand through my messy hair and followed.
Warren
“Are you telling me, you drove in with these two?” Warren yelled as he pointed at a couple of pictures stuck to a whiteboard. “These two, right here.” He slammed his fist against the board next to one of the pictures whose serial number ended with 102. Warren’s inner fury threatened to overtake him, and he knew he needed to reel it in. Besides, the man sitting at the table across from him didn’t seem the least bit impressed.
Warren eyed the man for a moment. He had carried an ID that made him out to be Michael Carver, employed by the Centers for Disease Control, but from his appearance the man could have been a bum. His face was unshaven, his clothes were dirty, and frankly, he reeked.
“How could I have known these two were fugitives?” Carver said in his defense. “It’s not as if I would expect escaped science projects to drive around in a highly equipped military vehicle, carrying a decent set of IDs.”
Ignoring the man from the CDC, Warren stood, walked to the window of the airport lounge, and stared out into the darkness. They had been right out there beyond this glass, so close but out of reach.
“Why is it exactly the CDC wasn’t made aware of the existence of these two?” the man behind him added. “If these two women can add in any way to finding a solution to the Mortem virus, then the CDC needs to know about them.”
Warren turned and looked at the man sharply. The last thing he needed was another agency interfering with his work.
“What exactly is your business here, Mr. Carver?” Warren asked. Carver straightened in his seat and folded his hands on the table.
“I was supposed to arrive this afternoon to help with the evac but came across a little trouble in a town not far from here,” Carver said. “Meeting those two probably saved my life.” Carver pointed at the pictures hanging on the whiteboard.
“I see,” Warren replied. “And?”
“I was late meeting Captain Brocket. Someone pointed him out to me on
the tarmac. I followed him there, and that’s where I overheard your conversation about them and pointed them out to you,” Carver said and pointed another finger at the board.
The men locked eyes, and neither seemingly wanted to be the first to look away. Warren lost this game by glancing at the door at the sound of a knock. William entered and closed the door behind him. The sour expression on the big man’s face told Warren it wasn’t good news.
“What?” Warren said exasperated.
“They got away,” William replied in a way that could have been mistaken for a growl.
“How?”
“A helicopter pulled them out,” William added.
Warren drew in a sharp breath to force his anger down.
“Do we know who?” Warren asked.
“The chopper appears to be air force.”
Warren’s eyes widened. He knew of one person of importance with interest in his work that had wriggled her way up the ranks within the air force, Dr. Kelly Matley. He had worked with her for a long time before she too ridiculed his endeavors.
Warren shook his head. How had she made the connection? While working together, Warren had made certain that Matley never knew his subjects’ names. Somehow she had learned of their escape and the significance they meant to his research or else she would have never sent a helicopter after them. His head shot up to face the pictures on the board before he turned to William.
“The FBI,” he said under his breath. The words were meant more for himself than for William, but the big man nodded in understanding.
The fractions in the different government agencies had been severe. Working together to solve the problem wasn’t always a viable option anymore. Organizations like the CDC proved to be a liability while others like the CIA had their perks. To have highly trained men at his disposal was something Warren could appreciate, especially when a man like William had his much needed connections within the agency. Perhaps the FBI had sought support from the air force and that’s how Matley would have gotten herself involved.
Warren snorted a laugh. That bitch would do anything to steal his work.
“Excuse me,” Carver said as he stood, “but I have a lot of work to do and I still need to meet with Captain Brocket.”
Warren looked at Carver and then glanced over the room. The lounge, in better days used by pilots and other airport personnel to get a bite to eat or just relax, looked eerily quiet. He had requested it like this.
“It is time to leave,” Warren said as he turned on his heels to exit the room. “Please take care of Mr. Carver.”
He barely heard the light pop of the silencer as he casually walked down the hall. He had one concern on his mind. He had to find Matley if he wanted his subjects back.
| 16
“Welcome to my humble abode,” Angie said as she guided us past the guards and a solid-steel door. First, I thought it strange that the sergeant had left us standing there on our own after he had specifically told us not to venture out on our own, but I guessed the guards down the hall meant we weren’t alone.
“So do you get to walk around without the babysitters?” I asked Angie and pointed at thumb at the door after I closed it. Without turning around, she replied,
“I didn’t at first, but it’s more of a precaution, so you won't get lost or enter areas you’re not supposed to. Don’t worry about them; they’re only temporary.”
“If you say so,” I said.
The two airmen outside would spend the night there until they were relieved of their duty. Maybe the military wasn’t as adventurous as the ads wanted us to believe.
The room itself was a letdown. While I didn’t expect hotel accommodations, a six-by-eight concrete box with two sets of twin beds stacked on top of each other felt a bit of a letdown. I stepped into the row that separated the two bunks.
Ash, hanging off Angie’s back, gripped the rail of the top bunk and used her arms to climb on the top half of the bed. Angie’s shoulders sagged when Ash’s weight eased off her, and she plunked down on the lower half of the other bunk bed. I stepped in line with the bed to face Ash. She looked so tired. I tussled a hand through her hair and she swatted it away.
“Sleep,” she said, drawing out the word. My pack sat on the lower bunk. It occurred to me that I had forgotten all about it and hadn’t seen the thing after departing from the helicopter. I glanced at it for a moment and then shrugged. What did I care how it had gotten here? Angie must have noticed and spoke.
“Mars.”
I glanced at her for a moment, unable to stifle a smile and reached for it. What was left of my stuff was all squeezed inside this backpack. I rummaged through it and found my phone along with the earplugs. I handed them to Ash. She took them greedily.
“Thanks,” she said and wedged the earphones in her ears. I regarded her for moment, wondering if I should say something. She had been this tough kid ever since I met her and probably before, but I felt the urge to protect her. As she settled in her bunk, I placed my hand on her shoulder. She looked up and nodded with a faint smile. It was her way of telling me she was okay, but I wondered if it was true. Prodding her to talk had proven useless in the past and I wouldn’t push her now.
I sat down on the bunk. Angie had already hunkered down. She was fighting with a pillow, trying to settle it under her head when she looked up at me.
“You okay,” she asked. I managed a shrug but didn’t feel much like talking. Something did bother me though.
“They don’t know about us, do they?” I said in a low voice. Angie perched on an elbow.
“We didn’t think it be in your best interest,” she said. “They think you’re part of our investigation into Dr. Warren, and that isn’t a lie—exactly.”
I managed a half-smile; with all the conflicting emotions and thoughts running around in my head, it was all I had to give, but unfeigned. Ever since I had met her in that town with Father Deacon’s church and flock, she’d had our best interest at heart—especially Ash’s.
At the time, Angie worked undercover for the FBI to keep an eye on Father Deacon. While I hadn’t known her then, I had helped her when a zombie had tackled her and brought her to the ground. She had fought it to keep it from sinking its teeth in her until I kicked it in the head.
Coincidentally, Angie and Ash had met before, and Angie had provoked a similar distaste in zombies. Angie had cancer like Ash and me, except hers hadn’t been canceled out yet by the Mortem virus. That’s why the zombie that had tried to bite her hesitated. The fact she looked like shit told me she was still battling it. She hadn’t been bitten like Ash and me. The zombie virus, or Mortem as the doctors tended to call it, had mutated our cells, and they had stopped growing out of control. The fact we hadn’t turned into zombies probably came down to sheer luck, but the answers behind it was what Dr. David was looking for.
“How’s that going,” I asked, “investigating Dr. David?”
“Ugh,” she replied and waved a hand to dismiss it. “Save the shoptalk for tomorrow—but let’s just say that you shouldn’t get your hopes up.”
There was a knock on the door. It opened before any of us managed to lift their butts off our bunks. The door clicked open, and Mars stuck his head inside the room. He glanced at me for a second, which was enough for my heart to skip a beat, but then he turned to Angie.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” he said and motioned to her to get out into the hall. Angie groaned as she slid off the bunk. She half rolled her eyes at me and then stepped outside. I let out a long breath while my eyes stayed locked on the door. As if affected by an electrical current, my heart picked up speed. Although it had been a while since I had felt this way, and the heat flushing my cheeks told me that this was more than just a crush, which seemed odd because of the brief moments Mars and I had actually met.
The door clicked open again, and this time it opened all the way. Angie stepped in with a lightweight-model wheelchair that looked close to the model I had picked up for Ash on
that scavenger run. Instead of the bright yellow of the wheelchair that probably still sat in the back of the Knight in a town filled with zombies, this one had a fluorescent green color. The black leather seat appeared unused.
“Hey, not-a-kid,” she said in a loud voice to attract the attention of Ash over the music that was pounding her ears. I couldn’t see Ash’s reaction from my lower bunk, but the expression on Angie’s face told me it was the good kind. While Angie helped Ash down the bunk and sat her in her new chair, I watched Mars hover at the door. His eyes darted from me to the floor, to the chair, back to me, and around again. He looked anxious.
“What do you say we take this thing for a spin and some food?” Angie said.
“Excellent,” Ash said with a grin, the need for sleep long forgotten. Although I felt exhausted from everything that had happened the past hours, the smile on Ash’s face was infectious.
“Check it out,” Ash added while she balanced on the back wheels. I got up from my bed and tussled her hair.
“Back in action,” I said.
Mars stepped out of the way as Ash rolled past him and through the door.
“Thanks, Mars,” she said on her way out.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
Angie followed Ash, but before I could, Mars stepped into my path.
“Can we talk?” he said. Those tense eyes took hold of me, but the sudden stomach twisting sensation made me look away while my cheeks lit up. I glanced down the hall where Ash and Angie had decided not to wait for me.
One of the soldiers who remained posted outside our door gave me a curious glance when Mars stepped past me into the room.
My heart started to pound in overdrive. I closed the door behind me. My hands felt cold as I pressed them against my hot face and turned my back to Mars. I was so not used to these kinds of situations. For a long time, my life had all been about avoiding people. With the knowledge you’re about to die, it didn’t seem fair to let people in, especially not in a way I wanted to let Mars in—and I would let him in. I had already somewhat made the decision on the bus, but I expected it wouldn’t come naturally to me.
