Mullins interrupted her.
“There’s no physical evidence of anything wrong with you,” she said. “And the general wants to get on with clearing this mess up. You’re moving out.”
“Whether we like it or not?” Charlie said.
Mullins nodded.
“The general isn’t a man to change his mind once it’s made up. And believe me, you’ll be safer as far away from here as you can get.”
Now that’s something I can believe.
To no one’s surprise, Ellen Simmons was the first to move.
“It’s about time too,” she said. “Get me out of here. I’ve got a reporter to find.”
Before they left, the sheriff went through the back and switched off the generator.
“We might yet be coming back,” he said dryly when he returned. Janet herded everyone else out into the parking lot, grateful that it was well-lit by the CDC’s arc lights. She saw that the quarantine area was the only spot that sat in darkness.
“Do we take the bus?” Charlie asked. Janet saw that the older man had a full bottle of JD in one hand, and the flashlight in the other.
“No,” Mullins said. “We have something a bit more secure.”
She led them round the trailer that housed the laboratory. A long, armored troop carrier sat in the corner of the lot, headlights on and engine running. Two men sat up front, a driver and a soldier who made a point of showing them that he had an automatic rifle in his arms.
“For protection,” Mullins said without a hint of irony, and started to shepherd them inside the truck. There were three long seats with a narrow walkway up the left-hand side. Fred and the girl went in the front nearest the driver, Charlie and Ellen Simmons in the middle. Janet pushed Bill up to the rear and got in beside him. Mullins sat beside Fred, just behind the armed man.
“We’ll have you out of here in no time,” the scientist said. She pulled the truck door shut. “All present.”
The driver put the truck in gear and they headed out into another night.
Bill surprised Janet by taking her hand.
“We shouldn’t be going,” she said softly. “We should be staying, examining whatever it was we almost communicated with.”
Bill’s grip on her hand tightened.
“Leave it to these guys,” he said. “I just want you out of harm’s way.”
“These guys are just going to bomb the shit out of it,” Janet said. “We might be looking at something completely new to our experience. And it will be lost forever.”
Bill reached over and turned her face round to look her in the eyes.
“Janet. It took my town… our town. It has killed God knows how many people. And it damned near burned through your arm just an hour ago. And I still ain’t convinced we’re not dealing with demons straight from the gates of hell. Maybe it’s best just to let the general do what he’s gotta do?”
Best for whom?
She leaned her head on Bill’s shoulder and closed her eyes, suddenly weary.
The truck had a better suspension than the old bus, the smoothness of the ride bringing some degree of security to the journey. But now they were out of the bar Janet felt exposed, her fears threatening to grip her. She saw them again in her mind’s eye; the too-thin, too-pale figures, reaching for her with fingers that were almost skeletal.
“Fred is dead.”
She heard the phrase in her mind, and at the same time, became aware of fresh wetness at her lip. Her jaw vibrated and a shiver ran the length of her spine.
We’re in trouble.
20
Fred was grateful for one thing. He’d let Sarah get into the truck first. That at least meant that he was between her and the scientist, Mullins.
If they’d sat together, they might be at blows by now.
Even as it was, Sarah was starting to let her anger build up a head of steam.
“So what’s she going to do now?” Sarah said, making sure Mullins wasn’t going to be able to ignore her. “Take us out to a field and shoot us in the head? Or maybe just throw us down a hole? What orders does she have this time?”
Fred was starting to wish he’d followed Charlie’s example and filched a bottle of JD from behind the bar. Getting between two women in a fight was never a good idea at the best of times.
And now ain’t anywhere close to the best of times.
“My only job here is to make sure you get to safety,” Mullins said.
“Like you did with Ma and Pa?” Sarah said, her voice rising so that she was close to a shout. “They’re sure safe now, ain’t they?”
Mullins kept looking straight ahead. Fred guessed that she couldn’t look them in the eye.
“I’ve told you before, that wasn’t me…”
“Yeah, you said. I ain’t seen you coming over to our side yet though.”
“It’s not a question of sides. We’re all in this together.”
“Give me a gun then,” Sarah said. “Let’s see how far this togetherness goes.”
The armed guard in the passenger seat up front turned and showed Sarah his rifle.
“If you don’t keep quiet, you’ll get a closer look at this gun than you’d like.”
Sarah didn’t flinch.
“I’ll make it easy for you,” she said and started to rise from her seat. “I’ll just get off here.”
The girl tried to push past Fred, just as the truck hit a bump, and she fell into his lap. Fred smiled, but Sarah looked like she might slap him.
“Let me go,” she said… just as she was hit by a nosebleed that dripped in a constant stream down her shirt. Fred tasted blood at his lips, felt the vibration shake along his jaw.
We’re in trouble again.
“Brace yourself,” he said to Sarah. She grabbed him tight, her face buried against his chest. Fred looked past her. He had a clear view through the gap between their driver and the armed man up front, and soon wished he hadn’t.
The road crumbled, falling in slow motion, down into darkness. The driver tried to haul the truck aside, but was too slow. The front wheels went over the edge and the truck tipped forward. If Fred had been driving, he’d have thrown the vehicle into reverse, but he saw immediately that he’d only have managed to tip the truck over. Instead their driver went with the collapse, accelerating into it, driving down into the hole, skidding and sliding on a loose bed of dirt and gravel that accompanied their descent.
The headlights showed them getting deeper into a narrowing crevice, one that was also getting steeper, until the driver lost control of the truck completely and they were carried down, bucking and swaying, on a monstrous roller-coaster ride to hell.
Sarah clung so tightly that Fred felt his chest constricting, and he struggled for breath. The headlights suddenly picked out a wall of rock, looming ahead of them, filling the view. The driver slammed on the brakes. They didn’t slow. The truck hit the wall headlong in a crash of tortured metal and glass, throwing the passengers around like so many rag dolls.
Fred’s head hit something, hard. He tasted more blood in his mouth and could see only blackness. He was now breathing more freely, but that only meant Sarah no longer held on to him.
“Sarah!” he shouted, but heard no response. He felt dizzy, and when he pushed, tried to move, his muscles didn’t reply.
Fred is dead.
A flash of light told him that wasn’t quite true. Something shifted in the darkness, and he felt a hand at his cheek.
“Sarah?”
“I’m here.”
“Keep talking,” someone else said. “I’ll get to you.”