He turned back to the Apache feeds. The four glowing figures crept north on Dearborn, keeping to the shadows near the buildings. They stopped, huddled together. He couldn’t tell, but it looked as if they were trying to see something behind them. All four broke into a run.
Dr. Reischtal almost smiled. They had undoubtedly just become aware of the growing mob of infected five blocks to the south.
He pulled out his phone and dialed a recent number. “Shut your mouth and listen carefully.”
CHAPTER 73
9:01 PM
August 14
Ed pulled at Tommy’s arm. “Slow down, slow down. You go running in there, you’re gonna get shot.” Behind Ed, Qween slowed to a walk, sucking in air through her nose and letting it out in shallow hisses between clenched teeth. Sam brought up the rear, grunting softly every time his left foot hit the ground. He kept his right hand across his chest, holding the left side of his ribs. Every once in a while, he would turn his head and spit. The blood gleamed darkly under the streetlights.
They stood at the intersection of Dearborn and Washington. Daley Plaza was before them. A circle of lights had been arranged in the middle of the plaza. Semi trailers, Strykers, and M939 military trucks lined the streets. A block to the west, the lights of the press conference sent inky slashes of shadow up the sides of City Hall. No soldiers could be seen.
Ed said, “Easy, easy. Catch your breath, first. Let’s think this through.”
“We don’t have time. Those people”—Tommy nodded back down Dearborn—“are gonna be here any minute.”
Ed shook his head. “We got a couple of minutes. Maybe ten. From what we’ve seen, they’re not the most organized.”
Tommy wasn’t convinced. “They go after noise. And light. But mostly noise. And those damn things”—he pointed to the two Apaches that kept circling overhead like a couple of hungry vultures riding the wind—“they’re gonna piss ’em off and bring ’em right into our laps.” He turned to assess City Hall. “Besides, I think the press conference is over. You hear anything from over there? They’re gonna be moving out.”
Ed watched the helicopters for a moment. “Yeah, you got a point. But let’s not go running in there like a bunch of chickens with our heads cut off.” He glanced at Sam. “How you doin’, brother?”
“Right as fucking rain,” Sam said, and discreetly wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. “Kid’s right. We gotta move.”
Ed started to say something else, but Sam narrowed his eyes and gave his head an imperceptible shake. Ed gave it a moment more, meeting Sam’s eyes, letting his partner know he didn’t believe him, and finally said, “Let’s move then. Slow and easy-peasy.”
They stole along the southern sidewalk of Washington, using the various military vehicles and occasional CTA bus as cover. Darting from shadow to shadow, Tommy would drop to the sidewalk once in a while, scouting, trying to get a look at the press conference.
The last time, at least five rats stuck their heads over the curb and hissed at him.
He flinched and rolled away. He found his feet, kept moving. “They’re still up there on the stage. Standing around. Like they’re waiting for something.”
Ed said, “Maybe they’re going back on the air or something.”
Halfway down the block, they slipped into the alcove, squeezed between the Cook County Administration Building and the Chicago Temple Building and huddled behind the Miro sculpture of Miss Chicago.
Ed whispered, “Here’s the plan. I’ll be the distraction.”
“You mean bait,” Qween said.
“Call it whatever you want,” Ed said.
“I’m gonna be the bait,” Sam said.
Ed started to say, “I need you—”
Sam cut him off. “No. I can’t run. I can shoot, but I can’t run. Let me walk up there and stand still. I’ll get their attention. Trust me. You go around the other side. I’m done hiding.” He used his thumb and forefinger to swipe at the corners of his mouth and met Ed’s eyes.
Ed nodded. Slow. “Okay. Okay, if that’s the way you want it, then okay.” He pointed to the other side of the Stryker, “Sam goes out first, then. Me and Qween will sneak around to the west, hugging City Hall.” He pointed at Tommy. “You wait a full minute, then cut across Washington here and circle around through the plaza. They’ll see Sam right off, and he’ll keep their attention. Me and Qween will get as close as we can. Soon as you hear us yelling, you slip in through the back and snatch your little girl. No matter what happens, you get her out.”
Ed looked at each of them. “Any questions?”
Nobody had any.
Ed said, “Let’s go,” and nodded at Sam.
Sam strode off, still holding his ribs, but moving purposefully, back straight, eyes on the horizon. Ed and Qween flattened themselves against the glass walls of the Harris Bank, the first floor of the Chicago Temple building. Tommy peeled around to the east and ducked across Washington. He slid between a bus and a cab, both vehicles long since abandoned once they had been boxed in by a parked convoy of M939s. He froze.
The plaza was a full half of a city block in size, a vast speckled cement open prairie in a massive, dense forest of concrete and steel and glass. The absence of the Picasso sculpture made the emptiness worse. He felt like a mouse, about to dart across a moonlit field while hawks prowled the misty skies above. To his left, the lights still shone on a stage erected in the middle of Clark Street.
He could see figures grouped around a podium. One of them had to be Lee, with the dark head of hair and blue suit. Red tie. Yes, that was definitely Lee.
There was a woman next to him. Long hair. Tight black dress. Kimmy.
He didn’t recognize the short, sour-faced man next to her, or the few behind Lee. He waited. Lee hoisted someone small to his hip. Tommy saw the white blouse and the way she held her head and how it canted her hair just so. He couldn’t breathe.
It was Grace.
He had waited long enough. He scurried across the plaza, curving to the west, heading for the back of the stage. Twenty yards to go. He skirted around the fountain and stayed low by a broad cement planter for a couple of stunted trees. From there, he could be on them before they saw anything, and so when their attention was taken by Sam, then Ed and Qween, he would slip in behind and take Grace. He waited for Sam’s signal.
It never came.
Instead, a solid slab of light thumped out of the sky and slammed him into stark relief against the flatness of the plaza.
Ahead, more lights speared him from a couple of Strykers along the western edge of the plaza. They’d been waiting there the entire time. Soldiers burst out of the light and rushed him, a vicious rugby scrum of guns, boots, and elbows. They surged over Tommy and he went down swinging. He caught a quick glimpse of more searchlights stabbing out of the sky, and then it was all over.
CHAPTER 74
9:05 PM
August 14
Phil couldn’t keep the grin off his face. It had worked just like Dr. Reischtal had said it would. Who knew that crazy CDC fucker could have been still useful? Not just useful, but necessary. If what he said was true, then they had to get out of the city as fast as possible. And they most certainly would need Dr. Reischtal’s help.
Phil prided himself on always, one way or another, being ahead of the curve, on knowing more than the general public, and therefore, being in a position to take advantage. In the past, he had used this talent to gain traction in elections, to blackmail his enemies, and spot opportunities that would benefit him, often financially, later down the line. Now it would get him out of the city alive.