Hayes’s eyes were open wide, but there was no life in them. There was a gaping wound in his chest right above where his heart was.
The hole in the back of the jacket, Brandon thought. A bullet hole.
His stomach turned, and he wanted to retch again, but he forced whatever was left inside to stay down.
What am I going to do now?
He stared blankly at the ground just beyond Hayes’s body.
The Ranch?
One look at Mr. Hayes was reason enough not to go that way.
Think. Think! What would Dad do?
Before the Sage Flu, his father had been just like most dads. He played with Brandon, pushed him to do his homework, taught him how to field a grounder. But after the outbreak, after Brandon and Josie’s mother had died and they’d finally been reunited with him, he had started teaching his kids other skills, survival skills they would need if things turned bad. Brandon could tell directions from the stars, knew how to shoot a gun, and even, despite his age, how to drive a car. But he was still a kid. Even he knew that.
As he closed his eyes, his father’s voice echoed in his head. “Never let events overwhelm you.” It was a lesson he’d preached many times. “Relax. Be logical. And survive.”
Brandon repeated the last part silently to himself.
When he felt he was in control once more, he opened his eyes. Hayes was still there, still staring at the sky, his chest ripped open, but the sight no longer repelled Brandon. It was as if he was watching a movie, and Hayes was only an actor on the screen. So he did what he’d seen in films many times — he closed Hayes’s eyes.
Dipping his head, he said, “Lord, please take care of Mr. Hayes. He was trying to help me, and probably saved my life. Thank him for me, okay? Amen.”
It wasn’t the best prayer ever, but it would have to do.
He gritted his teeth, knowing what he had to do next wasn’t going to be pleasant. Hesitating only a second, he started searching through Hayes’s pockets for anything he might need. He found seventy dollars in the man’s wallet first, and in the pockets a folding knife, a book of matches, and eighty-five cents in coins. He’d been hoping to find Mr. Hayes’s cell phone, but he didn’t seem to have it on him.
He stood up and took a look around the area. So where was Mr. Hayes’s backpack? Had the people from the helicopter taken it with them?
No, Brandon realized. Mr. Hayes probably hid it somewhere so he could move faster.
Brandon thought about going in search of it, but who knew how long that might take, or if he’d find it at all? He couldn’t chance on the helicopters flying back over and finding him. He’d just have to get by with what he already had.
Keep moving, his father’s voice said.
“But where?” Brandon whispered.
Not the Ranch, and not toward the mountains.
The only real choice was to follow the gentle slope down toward the wide horizon. Somewhere out there, there had to be a town, someone he could go to for help. At the very least, there would be a highway.
The decision made, he looked down at Hayes again. “I’m sorry you had to die. I wish I could have helped you.” He almost said goodbye, but that seemed too much.
Donning his pack, he turned east and started walking.
8
Sims was sitting in the command helicopter, looking at satellite images of the Montana facility that was burning about one hundred yards from where his aircraft was parked.
He knew from the moment they’d flown in that the fires had been set intentionally, so the people who had been occupying the building — the same people who had been a thorn in the side of the Project for so long — had either left the area completely or were hiding somewhere nearby. Given the surprise nature of his team’s arrival, he found it hard to believe they’d had time to leave. The satellite image revealed there was only one way in and out of the property via the ground, and the portion of his team that had come in on the road had met no one going the other way.
There was, of course, a landing strip not far from the main building. They could have flown out, but he and the others in the helicopters would have seen them for sure.
So where were they?
He studied the photo, looking for any indications of camouflaged buildings or something that might be an entrance to an underground facility. There was the large building and the smaller building, both burning now, and an exercise area that his team had already thoroughly searched. The only other structure was about half a mile away, an old barn that had housed horses. When his men checked it out, they had found no secret doorways or places where people could hide. The only thing they discovered was that someone had opened the doors, and let all the horses out. That had been a surprise. When they were flying in, one of the other helicopters had done a heat sensor sweep of the barn and determined that there’d been several horses inside. A quick check with the pilot confirmed that the door had been closed at the time.
So there was at least one person around.
Sims had ordered one of his helicopters to go in search of whoever it was, hoping if they found someone, that person might be able to point them to where his friends were.
“Dammit,” he said, tossing the photo down.
He knew they had to be here somewhere. He just knew it.
Outside, he heard a helicopter descending, so he pushed himself up and walked over to the open doorway. The men he’d sent in search of the person who’d opened the barn were back.
As soon as the other helicopter landed, the door flew open and the team jumped out one by one, but they had no prisoner with them. Sims stepped out of his aircraft and strode toward Donaldson, the other team leader.
“I take it you didn’t find anyone,” he said. The mission had been on radio silence since before they flew in.
“Actually, we did.”
Sims looked around. “I don’t see anyone.”
“He’s dead.”
A pause. “He was dead when you found him?”
“No. He was armed. We tried to stop him, but when he shot at us we had no choice but to return fire.”
“I clearly remember telling you to bring anyone you find back alive.”
“I understand that, sir, but I wasn’t going to let my team get shot.”
“No one said you couldn’t shoot him, but you didn’t have to kill him.”
“He moved.”
“What?”
“He was running away. I tried to hit him in the shoulder, but he moved to the side so it went through his chest.”
“You did it?”
“Yes, sir.”
Sims looked away, reining in his anger. Donaldson was one of his top soldiers. If he said the man moved into the bullet, then Sims had to believe him. Dammit. It was still a lost opportunity.
“Was he alone?” he asked.
“We spent some time looking around, but found no signs of anyone else.” Donaldson paused. “There is something that might be helpful, though.”
“What?”
Donaldson reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “This was on him. According to the call log, he used it a minute or two before we all arrived here.”
The fire at the dormitory was almost out. Matt studied the camera feed, and was satisfied that the auxiliary Bunker entrance in the building’s basement was now fully inaccessible. And though the Lodge was still burning above them, the fire had passed the point where it could be extinguished in time to find the main Bunker entrance there.