“Almost makes me miss Al Qaida.”
Lister grunted. “I’ll brief you on the walk to the chow line.”
“Yes, Sir.” He swung his M4 over his shoulder and fell into step beside the general, walking down the center of the street. Around them service men and women packed the trucks, emptied survivors from others and shuffled people to and from the houses. “We preparing to bug out tomorrow?”
“Some have already left. And the evac route has been modified a bit. Rain’s turning the washes into quicksand.” He glanced up at the smoke-filled sky. “Cold front is supposed to move in tomorrow so we’ll be hitting snow once we reach the Mogollon Rim.”
David shook his head. Bad weather. Just what they needed. “We need a break.”
“We need a miracle. This jaunt is turning into a Hail Mary effort with every passing second.”
“Sergeant Major!” Manny sprinted from the group gathered in the center of the road.
Walking with the general, David headed toward the kid.
“That your group.”
“Yes, Sir.” He eyed the assembly of twenty or so people. None of them coughed or wheezed for breath.
“They look healthy. You have the damnedest luck, Sergeant Major.”
Luck had nothing to do with it. Wheelchair Henry, Manny and his group hadn’t gone to the Burgers in a Basket. But their long walk here might have exposed them. In two months, none of them might be alive.
Drawing up short, Manny sucked air into his lungs before setting his hand on his knee and craned his head to look up at them. “Wheelchair Henry wants to talk to you.”
He held out a yellow and black child’s walkie-talkie.
Lister eyed it like it was a hand grenade. “Now, see here, young man. The sergeant major and I have work to do.”
David set his hand on Manny’s shoulder. Bones pushed back against his palm. The kid needed some meat on his bones. “Wheelchair Henry is retired Colonel Henry Dobbins, General. Nearly a dozen vets left the VA hospital to find the old man when he didn’t show up for free burgers and shakes on Monday.”
The day the Veteran’s Affairs had distributed anthrax-laden toys to the sick and injured. Silence drifted on the smoke as Lister made the connection.
“I’d like to meet a man that inspires such loyalty.”
“He’s a good man.” Manny’s eyes narrowed when he stared at the general.
“That he is Manny, and we could use his advice on a few things.” David reached for the walkie-talkie.
At the last minute, Manny clutched the toy to his chest. “He’s in the park with the animals.”
So the kid wasn’t going to give up the walkie. David didn’t blame him. The boy had been through hell. At least he had his brother, sister, and friends. That was more than many other people. “We’ll find him.”
“In the meantime, you take your friends and get some food.” Lister gestured to the group of children staring at them. “We’ll send the Colonel to you after we speak to him.”
Manny set his jaw but his gaze stuck to the children.
Poor kid. His loyalties were being tested for no reason. “Robertson!”
The private materialized from the dark. “Here Sergeant Major.”
“Take Manny and the others to get something to eat.” David jerked his head toward the group. “Manny, if we don’t return Wheelchair Henry to you, you have my permission to shot PFC Robertson here.”
Manny paled and his jaw dropped open. “I—”
“Relax, little man.” Robertson draped his arm around the boy’s shoulders and dragged him forward. “Big D’s just pulling your whiskers. He won’t let anything happen to ol’ Henry or to me. We sent you the computer so you could find us, didn’t we?”
“I guess so.”
“Of course, we did.” Robertson glanced back over his shoulder and winked at David. “Now, tell me which one of those little chicas is your girlfriend.”
“What!” The rumbled of an engine swallowed the rest of Manny’s reply.
David smiled. Robertson certainly had his uses. Then again, he wasn’t much older than Manny. A pale horse pulled a rickety wagon out of the neighborhood. A gust of wind carried the scent of decay and death. He watched it pass before heading in the opposite direction. “How many have we lost?”
“Lost track at twenty-six hundred and that was four hours ago.” Lister clasped his hands behind his back. “Almost everyone is sick, except your group and a handful of others.”
They passed Mavis’s block. David glanced at the second house from the corner. Lights blazed in every window and people tromped in and out of the ranch house, uniform and civilian dress, clean and soot stained. His attention bounced off one person then another. Where was she? Had she gotten another call from the Surgeon General? Was anyone alive on the East coast?
“The Doc is getting you chow.”
His attention whipped back to the general. “Sir?”
“That’s who you’re craning your neck to see, isn’t it? Once word came down on the horn you were a mile out, she left HQ. I’m sure she needed the break. This has turned into a logistical nightmare and everyone wants their say, from nurses to reverends.” Lister’s eyebrows met over his nose and a muscle ticked in his jaw.
Had something more than a break in the chain of command pissed off the officer? He followed his gaze to a tall man wearing a flannel jacket with a bible in his hand. A knit cap covered his head and ash streaked his profile. There was something familiar about that face.
He wracked him memory but came up empty. It would come to him later. Probably wake him up from a sound sleep.
A coughing woman jostled his elbow before stumbling across the street.
Right, he had other things to think about at the moment. “At least, they’re not freaked about the imminent melt down.”
“Haven’t told everyone.” Lister flicked at the ash on his uniform, smearing the gray into the khaki. “Just a select few. Hell, most folks are in too much of a shock to understand the alphabet.”
David nodded to the line of civilians snaking out of the registration tent. Most had sandwiches in their hands. His stomach growled. Where was Mavis and his food? “But they know we’re leaving in the morning.”
“Most think it’s because of the fire and rats. Others think it’s on account of the sickness. And then there are the wackos. Wish we could leave some of those nut jobs behind but there just isn’t enough of us.”
Hot air blew from the air conditioners plastering his pants against his legs and shoving ash into drifts against the curb. People staggered out of the way as an empty wagon clomped by. Others stood in clumps on the side of the road staring blindly ahead. Gray spotted their white bread.
“Are we going to tell everyone?”
“According to the Doc, we have to.”
Turning sideways, Mavis slipped between a couple of cinder-covered fellows and joined them in the street. “Did I hear my name?”
“Just telling the Sergeant Major that you plan to tell everyone about the anthrax attack on tomorrow’s emergency alert broadcast.”
Mavis nodded but her focus was on him. “Hand.”
He held out his hand to her. It was nice to have someone to come home to.
Rolling her eyes, she flipped it palm side up and slapped two capsules against his skin. “Take your meds.”
Automatically, he tossed them in his mouth. They stuck to his tongue.
She popped the top on a can of soda. “Here. It’s more than a spoonful of sugar.”
Water sweated from the cold can and dripped from his fingers. He tossed his head back and drained the contents in a few gulps. God, it felt like forever since he’d had a cold drink. He crushed the can and looked about for a recycling pile. “Thanks.”