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  "No."

  "Then why are you so freaked out now? What's down there that has you so scared?"

  "I just don't like it. I don't want to go in." She glanced over the edge. The channel was filled with mud that had been disturbed below and sent back up to cloud the water into a brown color that could be seen even in the dark of night. The twinkling stars were the only light reflected in the syrupy mess. "The Devil's down there." Her silhouette gazed back up at her.

  * * *

  "An explanation for what?" asked Reagan.

  General Covington set his helmet on the steel counter inside of the hermetically sealed, plastic room that his friend was housed in. The air was stale, just like it was in the prison they were set up outside of. The order had come in for the prison to be shut down, but the General's superiors didn't know how important the research they were doing here was. The paramedics had planned on transferring the Captain to a new facility, further north, and placed him in a transportable room when he arrived. Covington had to convince them to allow a partial portion of the prison to stay active, and took responsibility for the prisoner they had planned on transporting. They didn't care, because they didn't understand how important this man was.

  Covington took a deep breath and turned away from Reagan. He looked down at his reflection in the metal counter. "An explanation for how it all came to this." He put his finger at the side of his eye and stretched his sagging skin so that his crow's feet disappeared. He let it go and the wrinkles sprung back to life, long and deep, as a reminder of how much life had passed. "How long have we known each other? Thirty some years?"

  "Something like that," said Reagan. "What's going on, General? Why are you in here without a helmet?"

  He turned and sighed. "Have a seat, Charles. We've got a lot to talk about." He motioned to the only chair in the room. Charles Reagan reluctantly took it as told.

  "Before we get started," said Reagan. "Did the medics get down to the docks? Did they find Billy and the twins?"

  "They're headed down there, but I don't know what they've found out. I wouldn't get my hopes up, Charles. The city's crawling with zombies. There's not much chance your friends made it there in one piece."

  "You haven't met them." Reagan leaned back and smiled. "Those guys are a force to be reckoned with. Sort of reminds me of us, back when I was a chopper pilot and you were just a grunt with an axe to grind."

  General Covington nodded and smirked as if thankful for the memory that Reagan helped bring to mind. "Are they bullheaded and a huge pain in the ass?"

  "Damn straight." Reagan laughed as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "They're good guys, for sure."

  "We can use all the good guys we can get these days." Richard Covington took off his gloves and set them beside the helmet on the counter.

  "You can say that again."

  "We were the good guys once."

  "Still are," said Reagan. "Aren't we?"

  "That's what I came here to find out." He looked at Reagan and his old friend saw sorrow in his eyes. "That's why I wanted to talk to you."

  "What's going on, Richard?" Reagan rarely broke rank and called his friend by his first name, but the conversation had started to feel less than official.

  General Covington caught sight of something in the corner of the room and his posture became suddenly rigid. He picked his helmet up, turned it upside down, and tossed his gloves inside it. Then he cradled it under his arm and said, "We shouldn't talk here." He pointed at the camera in the corner of the room that peered down at them. He was pretty sure the majority of the team had left, but it wasn't worth taking a chance that someone was watching them. "Let's go to my office."

  "I can't," said Reagan as he pointed at the bandage on his arm. "I'm a carrier. They'll never let me out of this plastic tomb. I could pass the disease to anyone that comes near me."

  Richard smirked and headed for the door. "Doesn't matter."

  * * *

  "You're infected," said the paramedic.

  Billy shrugged. "Everyone is."

  "Not everyone. They think there's a few people out there that have an immunity."

  "What about you?" Billy pointed at the man in the black armor. "You've been walking around with your helmet off. Are you clean?"

  "They flooded us with antibiotics," said the other paramedic that was holding Laura's head in his lap. "We're good."

  "I'm not leaving without Kim," said Billy.

  Laura wore a plastic mask attached to a machine that rumbled at her side. She reached up and pulled the mask off as she looked up at Billy with dazed eyes. "Where's Kim?"

  "She's okay," said Billy quickly. "Don't worry about her."

  Laura looked around as she came to the realization that Kim was missing. "Where's my daughter?"

  "The policeman took her," said Annie.

  Laura jolted and tried to sit up, but the paramedic held her down. She lashed out, but there was no strength left in her. The man at her side easily subdued her and pleaded that she remain calm.

  "Is that true, Billy?" she asked.

  He nodded gravely.

  "No! You can't let that happen."

  "Ma'am, you need to calm down," said the paramedic holding her head. "We've got a helicopter on the way to evac you all out of here. When they get here, we can send some soldiers out to find your daughter. Until then, you need to stay calm."

  "Where were they headed?" The paramedic looked at Billy and waited for an answer, but the young man wouldn't say. "If you tell me where they were going, I can send out someone to find them."

  Billy shook his head. "I'll find them."

  "No." The paramedic spoke with unerring certainty. "You're not leaving the city. That order comes straight from the top. Under no circumstances are we to allow you out of our sight. Just tell us where they were headed and we can get someone out there to save this woman's daughter."

  "Save her how?" asked Billy. "By putting a bullet in her head? I saw how you guys like to save little kids."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "We saw a video of men dressed up like you, in black armor, shooting people in a mall. I saw you kill a little boy the same age as Kim. There's not a chance in hell I'm letting you anywhere near her."

  "You have to save Kim." Laura struggled to speak as she tried to pull the mask away from her face. The paramedic beside her continued to force it back down over her mouth as the gas from the machine pumped into her lungs. When she managed to pull it away, the mist rolled down her cheek as she said again, "You have to save her, Billy. You have to save Kim."

  "I will, Laura. I swear."

  "No, you won't," said the paramedic.

  A black vehicle rumbled to a stop behind the Toyota on the street outside the dock house. They all turned to look at it as another man in a black suit got out and walked in. A gunshot echoed through the desolate city and the young man walking in cringed at the sound.

  Billy looked at the new paramedic, then at the one holding Laura's head, and finally at the man that kept telling him that he couldn't save Kim. He kissed Annie on the cheek and whispered, "Go give your mommy a kiss. Tell her it's from me." He set her down awkwardly as his hands were still handcuffed from his meeting with Frank, the police officer that was laying somewhere on the bottom of the channel beside them. Frank's Kevlar vest and equipment had been heavy enough to drag the man down to the depths of the channel quickly.

  The black armor the paramedics were wearing looked heavier.

  CHAPTER TWO - NO ESCAPE

  "This is the place." Jason had a raspy voice tortured by years of smoking three packs a day. His time in prison had forced him to scale back his habit, but he was a monstrously large man and easily won more than his fair share of smokes. He towered over the man at his side and the police uniform that he'd been provided with was two sizes too small. It flapped at his side as his rotund belly pushed his exposed white t-shirt to the limits of its elasticity. He cautiously stepped out of the boat and th
e decrepit, wooden dock groaned beneath his weight.

  "Looks like a shit hole." The other man in the boat, a skinny, older Mexican with a thin mustache and scrawny arms, struggled to stay balanced as his big nephew stepped out. He gazed up at the house on the hill of Hailey's End that they had docked beside.

  The house was large, rising three stories and boasting two circular towers on the corners like some sort of tribute to middle age architecture. The wood siding was as weathered as the grey dock and looked as if it hadn't seen a lick of paint in twenty years. The triangle shingles that were once a decorative embellishment now hung in a haphazard display like the scales of a dying fish left to rot on the shore.

  Jason stared up at the decaying mansion and shrugged. "Better than a jail cell." He reached down to help his uncle out of the boat.

  Louis wasn't dressed in a police uniform, and he wasn't a member of the Blue Yards like Jason and the others. His nephew had found him at his home and insisted he come with. "How many people are headed here?"

  Jason pointed at the earpiece in his right ear. "Probably everyone that got one of these. And who knows who else they're going to bring along. Courtland said we could bring family members, but only if they were related by blood. These have been quiet for awhile now, though." Jason tapped at the earpiece. "The big guy says we need to stop using them, because someone outside of the group might've gotten one." He looked back up at the mansion. Each of the windows had blankets or towels taped over them to keep light from escaping, but he could see a sliver of light from a second story room. "He's probably up there now, waiting for us all to show up."

  "I can't wait to meet him."

  They started to walk up the dock toward the manor. "Why's that?" asked Jason.

  "Well, if this guy's the leader of the Blue Yards, he must be one tough son of a bitch." Louis looked at his titanic nephew. "I've never been to prison, thank the Lord. I can only imagine what it's like to be surrounded by huge, nasty mother fuckers like you all day."

  Jason snickered and cracked his knuckles.

  Louis shook his head in wonderment as they ascended the stone steps that led to the cracked walkway that passed through the overgrown lawn of the manor. "I wonder how tough a guy has to be to end up as the leader of a group of people like you. He's got to be some Butterbean-looking, Mike-Tyson-hitting, Holyfield bad ass to get you to follow him."

  Jason smiled and quietly laughed as he nodded. They got to the front door of the estate and Jason knocked on it with a hand that was nearly the size of Louis's head. They waited as a distant light began to move from within the house.

  The light grew brighter as a person walked to the door. Louis tried to peer through the frosted glass that lined either side of the entrance, but all he could see was a vague human shape moving their way with a light at his side.

  The door unlatched and creaked open as the glow of a lantern spilled out over the front lawn. Louis eagerly awaited his first glimpse of the mysterious man that had earned the right to be called the leader of the Blue Yards.

  "Louis, meet Courtland," said Jason as the door opened.

  Courtland Ashford stood five foot six at most and couldn't have weighed more than a hundred fifty pounds. He was young, probably in his earlier thirties at the oldest, and had long, stringy black hair and even blacker eyes. His skin was pale, and dark circles hung from his tired eyes as he looked out at them.

  Louis was stunned at first, then amused, and finally terrified of the man in the threshold of the mansion. He had expected to be greeted by a hulking beast that could inspire fear and loyalty even among a group like the Blue Yards. Yet a sickly looking whelp of a man greeted him at the door. Louis couldn't imagine how such a man had earned the respect of a group like the Blue Yards, and he was scared to ask. Courtland Ashford was, beyond a doubt, the most frightening man he'd ever encountered.

  "Welcome to my home," said Courtland as he extended his hand to Louis.

  Louis trembled as he shook the stranger's hand.

  * * *

  Levon heard the struggle and quickened his pace. Billy was commanding someone to put their gun down. Levon raised his and was prepared to shoot. If he walked into a maelstrom of bullets at the dock house, he'd do his best to put a bullet in anyone that dared to hurt Billy or his friends.

  "I already dragged one person down to the bottom of the channel," said Billy as Levon edged along the side of the wooden building toward the door. "I won't hesitate to drop you in with him."

  He cautiously peered in and saw Billy with his handcuffs wrapped around the throat of one of the paramedics that had saved Laura. He couldn't understand how the scene had devolved into chaos like this, but it didn't matter. If Billy thought the fucker deserved to die, then he did.

  There were two other men inside the room as well. The paramedic that nearly shot Mark was standing just inside of the building and another was looming over Laura with his pistol drawn.

  Levon pressed his gun against the back of the young paramedic's head and then wrapped his arm around his throat. "You'd better put your gun down," said Levon as he startled the young paramedic. "Or else I'm going to put a hole through this kid's head."

  The paramedic standing over Laura spun to face the new threat. "Seriously? What is wrong with you guys?" He pointed the gun back at Billy, then at Levon, and finally dropped it to the ground where it clattered against the cement. "We're the good guys, you idiots."

  "We've been hearing a lot of that lately," said Billy as he eased up on his grip of the man in front of him. He didn't let go, though, and the man still struggled to pull the chain away from his throat as he gasped.

  "I guess that makes us the bad guys, bro," Levon said to Billy.

  "Guess so."

  "So why are we killing these fools?"

  "I need to go save Kim, and they don't want to let me leave the city."

  "You mean 'We' need to save Kim."

  "I wasn't sure you'd want to go. What about Mark?"

  "He's gone." Levon wondered if the muzzle of his pistol was still hot as it pressed against the back of the young paramedic's neck.

  "Fuck, man," said Billy. "I'm sorry."

  Levon shook his head and promptly avoided the subject. Mark's death, and the trauma of losing him, was too much to bear. "Are we taking the boat?"

  "Can't," said Billy. "Kim had the keys. Besides, I'm not sure it could make it past Becken Bridge."

  "The cops got here by boat. They must have passed under the bridge."

  "We could look for another boat," said Billy. "But I think we'd be better off heading around the shore, past the bridge, and looking for one out there."

  "Are we hoofing it?"

  "Fuck that." Billy looked out of the dock house at the vehicles parked outside. "We need to find a car."

  Levon glanced over his shoulder at the Toyota parked outside. "What about that one? Did it have keys in it?"

  "Let's take their truck." Billy pointed at the black, armored vehicle parked behind the Toyota. "That thing looks like a fucking tank."

  "Won't they need it to take the girls?"

  "They've got a chopper coming."

  "You can't take our truck," said the paramedic standing beside Laura. "It doesn't handle like a regular vehicle. You'd never be able to drive it."

  "That's why Dennis the Menace here is going to come with us." Levon jostled the young man in front of him.

  "You're going to take a hostage?" The paramedic standing over Laura shook his head in disgust. "You guys are really clinging to that 'bad guy' thing, aren't you? Do you know who you're dealing with here? Do you know how much shit you're going to be in for this?"

  Levon snarled and taunted the paramedic. "Just wait until you see what I do to your face if you don't shut the fuck up."

  "If you leave the city, you might infect other people." Billy's captive spit out his words as he continued to struggle beneath the cuffs.

  Billy released the man who then fell to his knees and rubbed his throat as he g
asped. Billy put his foot against the man's back and pushed him down. "Shut up with that bullshit."

  "It's not bullshit," said the one standing beside Laura. "We're trying to do what's best for everyone here. We're trying to save the world. All you're trying to do is save one little girl." He stared at Billy as if hoping the sense of his argument would sink in. "Can't you see that? You might think you're headed off on some noble quest or some bullshit like that, but you're not. You're putting hundreds, thousands; fuck man, maybe even millions of people's lives at risk to save one little girl. Don't you see how dumb that is?"

  There was a long pause as Billy stared at him. Then he finally stated definitively, "Nope."

  Levon laughed. "Open your eyes, buddy. Your bosses brainwashed you. There's no containing this shit, man. These fucking zombies can walk around on the bottom of the Goddamn ocean. Ain't that right, Billy?"

  "Yep. They were walking up on shore over across the bay. Why exactly is letting us go save a little girl's life suddenly such a problem for you guys when the bottom of Hailey Bay is crawling with zombies?"

  "That's…that's not true," stammered the paramedic. "We quarantined the city. They can't walk around under water." He looked back and forth between them as he struggled to comprehend what they were saying. "If they could do that, then there's no hope." His words trailed off as if the realization broke his heart. "There's no hope."

  Billy walked forward and knelt down beside Laura. Annie sat at her mother's side and Billy set his hands on her head to rustle her curly red hair. "There's hope. You've just got to know where to look for it."

  * * *

  Gwen crawled across the cement and blindly grasped ahead to keep from banging into the wall again. Her bare knees scraped on the dirt that caked the floor and she felt the collar around her neck tighten as she got as far from the wall as she could manage. She pulled the chain that restrained her as tight as she could and reached out for her son.