“All except Lance, yes. We met recently.”
He chuckled. “Christ, kid. You must be a freakin’ monster.”
“So what do you think, Captain?” My dad said. From his expression, I could tell he was eager to change the subject. “Got a place for us in your convoy?”
“Absolutely,” Morgan said. “Just hang back in the rear for now. Once we know what’s ahead of us, I’ll sort out where to put you.” He went through another round of handshakes, this one more enthusiastic than the first. “Again, it was nice to meet all of you. Glad to have you on board.”
“Same to you, Captain,” Dad said. We watched the young officer stride away, climb into his Humvee, and drive back toward the head of the column.
“Well that went well,” Blake said.
“Yeah,” Dad said, sounding uncertain.
I looked at him, not liking his tone. He stared at the dust trail in the wake of Morgan’s Humvee, his dark eyes unhappy.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him.
He glanced at me and shook his head. “We’ll talk about it later. Mike, take point if you don’t mind.”
The big man nodded once. “Not a problem.”
“Everybody else, let’s get out of this heat.”
“Fuckin’ gladly,” Tyrel said, leaning on Lola’s arm as he limped back to his Humvee. Sophia came to stand next to me, her arm slipping around my waist. I pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.
“How you holdin’ up?”
She nuzzled her face against my chest. “Better, now that you’re back.”
“I think things are going to be all right, now.” I said. “What that guy Morgan said about Colorado Springs, he seemed pretty convinced. I think we’ll be safe there.”
“I hope so,” Sophia said. “I hate all this running. It’s only been a few weeks since Houston, but it feels like a lifetime.”
“Tell me about it.”
She looked up at me, her eyes like pools of dark honey. “Do you really think things will be better in Colorado? You think we’ll be safe?”
The truth was, I had no idea. Nothing I had seen of the spiraling world around me gave me the slightest confidence there was such a thing as a safe place anymore. But when I looked down at Sophia, I saw hope, and I saw her confidence in me, and her trust, and there was a surge of something in my chest that made me want to be all the things I saw in her eyes. So in my foolishness, rather than reveal my doubts and my fears, and speak to her honestly of the risks we were taking and let her make an informed, adult decision, I took the coward’s way out—I resorted to false bravado.
“Everything’s going to be fine, Sophia,” I said, and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
She smiled at me, little dimples forming in her cheeks. “I believe you.”
How easy it was to make promises, then, before I understood the consequences of failure and hubris. Before I learned of the demons that come in the late hours before sleep, and the burdens of regret one carries in their wake.
Fate is a cruel teacher. But by God, her lessons stick.
*****
With the exception of a few wandering infected, the town of Blanco was abandoned.
The sun was low in the sky, wearing on toward evening. The captain decided to make camp in town for the night and move on at first light. The convoy went in first to exterminate what few undead occupied the streets. We waited in our vehicles with the windows down and the engines off to conserve fuel. Sophia sat in the passenger’s seat, one hand clasped in mine, the other fanning her face with a torn-off flap of cardboard. A thin sheen of perspiration covered her skin, turning her hair dark brown where it stuck to her neck.
“How long do you think this is going to take?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No idea. Guess it depends on how many undead there are.”
We didn’t talk much after that, just sat and listened to the sound of distant gunfire. One of Morgan’s troops made his way back to us and inquired if we had radios or not. When he found out we did, he told us what frequency to set them to so we could receive messages from Morgan and his senior staff. I turned the knob to the appropriate setting, placed the radio on the dashboard, and waited.
Not long after that, the cracks of gunfire diminished in frequency until they ceased altogether. A few minutes later, the radio came to life.
“All stations, this is Captain John Morgan. At this time, it appears the town is clear of infected. However, I urge you to proceed with caution. There’s no telling where more of them might be trapped, or how many more might be headed our way. Do not, I repeat do not open any doors, approach any windows, or attempt to enter any buildings. I’ve posted troops throughout town who will direct you to the Best Western on 281, where we’ll be making camp for the night. Follow their directions, and do not deviate from the path. If you do, my men will not be responsible for your safety. Please proceed ahead.”
On the road beyond the windshield, two big green trucks laden with the survivors from the RV encampment and their possessions revved their motors and slowly lumbered north. We waited until they gained some distance on us, then followed suit.
The bridge on 281 leading into town passed slowly under our wheels. A thin green lake too neat and even not to have been shaped by the hand of man surrounded Blanco to the south. We rolled through the streets, first passing empty lots, then a mix of small businesses, houses, a few restaurants, and a large graying building occupying the center of an entire block proclaiming itself the Old Blanco County Courthouse. Farther on, it was more of the same. A bank, a real-estate office, a church, an auto parts store, a moving truck rental agency, and interspersed amongst it all, house after empty house.
“Looks like the people who lived here took their cars with them,” I said. “What few I see are mostly junkers.”
“It’s so sad,” Sophia replied. “Houses look different when nobody lives in them anymore. Like they’re in mourning or something.”
I scanned the periphery of the street, watching the forgotten mailboxes, empty windows, and yawning driveways slip by. “Maybe they are.”
“I wonder where they all went.”
“Colorado? Kansas, maybe?”
“Think they’re still alive?”
“Who knows, Sophia?”
A soldier on the road motioned us ahead, looking bored and uncomfortable in his heavy gear. His eyes lingered on Sophia as we passed, and I shot him a hard stare. If he noticed, he gave no indication. Several minutes and a few more ogling soldiers later, the hotel rose into view and the brake lights of my father’s truck flared red in front of us. I eased my foot on the brake until we came to a halt, then watched a soldier approach Mike in the lead Humvee. There was a brief exchange, followed by Mike exiting his vehicle and motioning for us to do the same.
“Let’s see what this is about.”
Sophia and I got out and walked over to where Mike stood. The soldier remained behind him, eyes wandering back and forth between Lola and Sophia. Tyrel noticed as well, and when he drew close, he leaned in until he was barely two inches from the young man’s nose.
“You got a staring problem, boy?”
The soldier leaned away from the ex-SEAL’s face, all sharp angles and heavy brows and merciless black eyes, and he took a step back.
“S-sorry,” the troop stammered. “I didn’t mean …”
“Don’t you have somewhere else you need to be, Private?”
“Yes sir.”
“Then get there.”
Blake stepped up beside me, stifling a laugh as the soldier scurried away. “It’s like he forgot he’s carrying a gun.”
“Ol’ Ty has that effect on people.”
Tyrel looked my way, mean-mug still in place, and winked.
“So what’s going on, Mike?” Dad said, getting everyone’s attention.
“We got a choice to make,” Mike said. “We can stay here at the hotel, or we can find someplace else to bed down for the night. Personally, I vote for the latter.”