Her eyes narrowing slightly, Rachel snapped back, "Allowing her to go sniffing around in the mall is one thing. Getting her involved in a major firefight with the zombies is an entirely different matter!"
"We all have to expect that to happen," he pointed out. "Every possible engagement could turn into that, and like it or not she saved a lot of butts out there."
Caswell just stared up at him for a moment, then she leaned back in her chair and looked away. "Zombie or not, she's still a fragile, seventeen year old autistic girl."
"She's not afraid of the zombies anymore," Tex pointed out. "Don't know when she decided that, but she went after ammo for us right through the middle of 'em."
Setting her jaw, Rachel grumbled, "Why did you allow her to stay there with you to begin with? Why didn't you send her back here?"
"Is this more about her safety," Sergeant Morris barked, "or is it about losing a science experiment?" Then the Doctor's eyes shot to him, filled with daggers, he nodded slightly and added, "You'd better get it through your head that we're in a war for survival here. The bad guys have all the numbers. In fact, I figure we're outnumbered about ten to one around here, so any advantage we can get is one more zombie that won't be trying to eat you later." He pushed off of the counter and turned to walk away. "You might want to think hard about that."
Rachel sprang up and hurried around the counter to catch up to him. "Don't you think I know that? We were supposed to give her a cat scan, a full brain scan to figure out why she hasn't turned completely. For God's sake, she could be the key to stopping this plague!"
He just strode on, countering, "The key to stopping this plague is more ammo and killing every damn one of those things. If you can come up with another way to kill them then do it. Until then we use what we have."
"I don't want her going out there again!" Doctor Caswell insisted.
This time, Sergeant Morris stopped and turned on her. "Well she is going out there again, Doctor. She's going with us first thing in the morning when the moaners are moving nice and slow. She's going to do her part for the greater good, to protect lives and take down our enemy."
Rachel hissed, "Nothing had better happen to her, Sergeant, or believe me I'll—"
"You'll what?" he roared. "Leave? Go ahead! Go out there on your own and see how long you last."
A dainty little hand grabbed his arms and tugged on him, and both of them turned to see Zoe trying to pull them apart.
"You aren't supposed to fight," she insisted.
Tex gave her a long look, then his eyes shifted back to the Doctor before he turned and strode to the stairs.
Zoe looked to Doctor Caswell herself, then she turned in pursuit of Sergeant Morris.
He arrived on the first floor before she caught up to him, in the front lobby that was now a staging area for the military actions against the zombies. When she finally took his side, she once again did not know what to say and just looked up at him as he walked toward the makeshift armory.
He turned his eyes down to her and advised, "You should get something to eat, Kiddo."
"Do you want to come with me?" she asked anxiously. "They said something about pizza."
"Yeah," he confirmed absently, "it's pizza night."
She tugged on his sleeve and urged, "Come on, William."
Tex stopped and just stared blankly ahead for long seconds.
"What's wrong?" she asked with concern in her tone. "Don't you like pizza?"
He turned his eyes down. "Seems like it's been a long time since anyone called me William."
"If it bothers you I won't do it," she assured. "I don't mind calling you Sergeant Tex. You can call me Zoe Rebecca if you want. Mom does when she's mad at me sometimes."
His eyes slid to her and a little smile curled his mouth. "How about Princess?"
She smiled and shrugged.
"Hey, Sarge," someone called from behind him.
They both turned to see the corporal striding from the stairs. "You coming to chow? The new lieutenant wants to brief us on something. He even broke out some beer."
"That's never good news," Tex grumbled. "Okay, McElroy, let's see what he has to say."
As they walked toward the stairs, Zoe stayed at Sergeant Morris' side and innocently asked, "Can I try a beer?"
"No," was his curt answer.
"Please?" she pressed.
"No," both men replied.
The dining hall had many of the men in it and all of the high ranking soldiers. The tables had been rearranged so that everyone in the room could have a view of one table, a long one that had the Lieutenant sitting beside Colonel Halstead and another officer, a Captain, that Zoe had not seen before.
Zoe had a few pieces of assorted pizza and a soft drink on her tray and walked behind Sergeant Morris on their way to the table. She did not notice that she was the only civilian in there, she just stuck to Tex's side. The Corporal walked beside him and when they found open chairs, the Corporal set his tray down and pulled out two chairs, inviting Zoe to sit in one before he and the Sergeant took their seats.
Dinner seemed tense for all but the girl, who listened quietly as the men beside her talked to each other. She also listened absently for the most part as they spoke of military matters that she was not really interested in.
Beer was brought out by hospital personnel and the men seemed to enjoy the festivities, and all but Zoe was given a bottle or can of their choice.
About a half hour later, the Colonel stood up and loudly cleared his throat to quiet the room, and in seconds all eyes were on him.
"We had a good day out there," he commended, "but let's not lose sight of the mission. We're outnumbered and for the most part we're getting our asses kicked out there. Now, a little while ago we got a visit from five civilians who came this way looking for medical supplies. They are part of a group of nearly fifty who are holed up in a school about three miles from here. They're surrounded by moaners that, by estimates of the people we took in, number close to a thousand."
Mumbling rippled through the crowd of men.
"Now," Colonel Halstead continued, "We're planning to liberate those people in there. We have enough room here at the hospital and we mean to bring what supplies they have to this building. Based upon what they've told us, the hospital is substantially more defensible than the school. The problem is getting them past the moaners and out of there without being followed. The last thing we want is for the moaners to find out about this location and drag us into a lengthy defense." He looked to the Captain, who stood up as the Colonel sat down.
"Okay, listen up," the camouflage clad officer started. "We have two city buses and a box truck ready to move first thing in the morning. The two things that are going to slow us up are one, fuel. All of the vehicles, including our Strykers will have to be fueled. While that happens we will be vulnerable as hell, especially since we don't want to be discharging weapons while we do that."
"The moaners will come as soon as they see someone get out of the first vehicle," one of the soldiers assured. "Who are we going to have standing outside fueling when we know they're going to come sniffing around?"
"We're working on that," the Captain assured. "Our second major obstacle is all of the moaners between here and there. We may be fighting our way in, then, once we arrive, we'll have to establish a defensible perimeter while personnel and supplies are loaded. This is going to be the most dangerous part of the mission, and with Charlie Company leaving for the base at the same time to collect weapons and munitions, we'll only have about forty men to pull this off."