“If that man is a carrier,” Travis says, “he may carry a pure strain of the Wildfire Agent, which offers amazing research opportunities.”
“You see, Dr. Price, that’s just the thing we’re curious about,” Slater tells him. “From where we sit, we can’t tell if he represents a cure, or whether he’s a superweapon created by the virus.”
The corporal brings up another image. Glowing blotches of red sprawl across a black landscape, like diseased cells under a microscope. Travis realizes he is looking at a thermal image of a large area of ground, taken from the air. The blotches are large crowds.
“As you can see,” the Colonel continues, “the uniform mike has built an army for himself. They were all moving southeast as of an hour ago, when they stopped and surrounded the farmhouse you see at the center.”
“Does he know what he is?” Travis asks.
“We don’t know anything about his range of free will. He might be a mindless agent of Wildfire, some poor guy who can’t understand why everyone he meets falls down and turns into a monster, or something in between.”
“We need to study him. This man’s blood. . .”
Slater points at the thermal image and whistles, imitating a falling artillery round.“Boom,” he says.
“. . . can end Wildfire,” Travis finishes awkwardly, confused.
“The Chiefs want to drop some bombs and put an immediate end to the threat. That’s the smart move, don’t you think?”
“You—you can’t be serious!”
“I’m dead serious. He’s a little over two hundred miles from Washington, Dr. Price. If we do nothing and he shows up with a hundred thousand Infected tagging along, we’ll lose everything. Even if he shows up without them, he could infect our troops.”
“You don’t know where he’s going to go.”
“Doesn’t matter. The region is filled with refugee camps. The man’s a threat to us wherever he goes.”
“I know it’s easy to see this man as a threat—”
“A threat?” Slater laughs. “He’s a walking, talking biological superweapon, Dr. Price. Less than a day’s drive from our front lines.”
“Colonel. Sir. You have to listen to me. As far as we know, this man is a unique mutation of Wildfire. He’s the chance we’ve been waiting for.”
“What kind of chance are we talking about?”
“To beat Wildfire, we need to characterize it,” Travis explains. “To characterize it, we need to identify it. We haven’t been able to do that yet. This man’s blood might be the key to a vaccine or even a cure.”
“What about a weapon? A virus to kill the virus and anyone or anything that’s got it?”
Travis considers this, and nods. “Yes. That’s possible as well. A weapon, or maybe a repellent.”
“You’re sure, then, he’s got such a thing in his blood? You’re one hundred percent positive he could produce material we need to win?”
“Of course not,” Travis says.
“Well, see, that means all you’ve got is a theory.”
“A hypothesis, yes. If he does carry a pure sample, though, it could end all this.”
“We’re not even sure we can get him,” Slater tells him. “Since we don’t know how he spreads Wildfire, will a standard MOPP suit be enough to keep someone from catching the bug from him? Not to mention how we would separate him from a hundred thousand crazies.”
“It’s worth the risk,” Travis says.
“For who?”
“You could send a—what do you call it, a search and destroy. . .”
“Snatch and grab?”
“Right,” Travis nods. “A snatch and grab team. Special Forces. Navy SEALS.”
Slater says, “Dr. Price, I hope you’re listening to me carefully. There’s no way I would risk our best men on your shit theory.”
“Well,” Travis says, stunned.
“Do you play poker, Dr. Price?”
“No, I don’t.” He enjoys cards, but not the social aspect of most card games.
“The General plays. Damn good, too. He’s a man who likes to hedge his bets. That means if there’s an even tiny chance you’re right, he will want to give it a shot. If he does, we’ll pull a squad or two off the line and drop them between Typhoid Jody and Washington. It will be their job to find this guy, grab him and bring him to an isolation facility.”
“Perfect,” Travis says, happy to see any effort made. “Since you’ve identified the carrier, do you have any records on him? Anything would help.”
“We have no idea who he is.”
“But you called him Jody.”
Slater laughs, and even the stony-faced officers flanking him crack smiles. “Jody does not actually exist, Dr. Price. It’s a nickname for the Infected going around. More military speak.” He chuckles again. “Let’s talk about why you’re here. If the General decides to send some of our people, you will go with them as mission science adviser.”
“Me? I’m not a soldier. I don’t know how to fight the Infected.”
“Who does? But millions are somehow managing. Now it’s your turn to step up.”
“But you’ll need me here to run the tests after we pick him up,” Travis pleads. “You’re not being very logical about this.”
“I heard you lost your lunch in front of the President of the United States when he asked you what was going to happen after he nuked one of our own cities,” Slater says. “I almost admire you for that. It might have been the only sane thing to do. But it tells me something about you. It tells me you’re a weak sister. You want to see the epidemic put to an end but only if you don’t have to get hurt doing it. So let me put my offer to you another way, Dr. Price: Now would be a very good time to make yourself indispensable to the war effort. Do or die, so to speak.”
Travis nods dully. He’d forgotten his knowledge of the coup makes him a liability to the new regime. “I understand.”
“You’ll have forty-eight hours to find the carrier,” Slater informs him. “Captain Fielding will go with you. Bring him alive, bring him dead, bring his left foot—I don’t care what, as long as you get what you need. If at any point it appears to the Captain you will fail, we will drop every bomb we’ve got on Typhoid Jody and his friends, and the Captain will tie up any final loose ends in the field. Do I need to explain what that means?”
“No,” Travis mutters.
“Don’t look so sad about it, Dr. Price. On the bright side, if you succeed, you will get more resources than you dreamed possible. If your theory is right—shit, Congress will probably award you the Medal of Honor. People will name their babies after you. You’ll never pay taxes again as long as you live. I’ll give you a big, fat kiss myself.”
The officers smile again, like sharks.
“How does that sound to you, Dr. Price?” the Colonel asks. “Does its logic appeal?”
“It’s a great opportunity,” Travis says, feeling sick. “Thank you.”
“See? I told you. Smart guy.”
Travis shudders as he realizes he is about to be released from his imaginary terrors down here in this underground prison and face the very real terrors ravaging the surface. He feels Fielding’s hand slip under his armpit, lifting him from his chair and propelling him toward the door.
I’m still alive. They’re not going to shoot me, at least not right away. I have a chance to win this. I have a chance to survive.
“We’ll let you know what the General decides,” Slater calls after him.
Wendy
The Bradley hums along the road, its crew sweating at their stations and its squad of four shooters raggedly singing a rap song popular when the world ended. Wendy looks at the optical display, scanning repeatedly for targets, chewing on a piece of nicotine gum and blinking at the head rush. She is addicted to the gum, not the nicotine. Her eyes sweep the indicator lights, confirming the vehicle’s big guns are ready to party. Then she glances at the man sitting next to her and smiles like a school girl.