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Will would always remember that the sequence of events started with Jax.

  He was out on their flank, Tara beside him and still guiding him when necessary.

  "I had to change my magazine," she said later. Her face was a mask, devoid of emotion, and her voice had no inflection. "That's all. I took my hand away for maybe ten seconds- long enough to eject the empty mag, get a new one from my vest, and jack a round into the chamber."

  Jax was still befuddled, and that brief amount of time was all he needed to veer off to his right. Tara reached to grasp his arm and found he was no longer beside her. She looked up and saw him over by the sidewalk just as he walked straight into the arms of a creeper. "We would have walked right by it if he'd gone straight," she explained. "We weren't even paying attention to the ones on the sidewalk because they were too far away to be a threat."

  The creeper fell against Jax, taking him to the ground and ripping at the padding on his arms and around his midsection with its teeth. Jax's mind cleared enough to realize his situation and he bayed like the hounds of hell were after him (which in a way, Will figured, they were).

  "I couldn't shoot from where I stood- they were rolling back and forth and wiggling around. I could have hit them both with one shot. Or missed the creeper and just killed the fat asshole."

  Tara ran to the struggled; Andro, who was next to her in line, followed. Tara was kicking the creeper in the side of the head with her boot when Andro reached them. He grabbed it by the midsection, lifted it, and flung it to the side. It landed on its back and sat up just in time to catch a round from Tara's handgun.

  Andro inspected Jax for bites that chewed through his pads and reached the skin underneath. The herd of creepers behind them was closing the distance.

  Will fired at the nearest three, putting them all down. "Andro," he bellowed, "get him up and let's go."

  Andro didn't respond. He reached out and clasped Jax's hand, pulling the big man to his feet. Jax, still sobbing and cussing over his attack and dizzy from his fall, lost his balance and fell forward, crashing into Andro.

  Will watched in horror as his friend fell. He struck the pavement without getting his hands up to break the fall; his head bounced off the hard street with a meaty splat. His hands fluttered and twitched involuntarily and blood pooled around his head and neck.

  Jiri and the Doc reached him first. Will gritted his teeth- he had five team members bunched up in the same small piece of ground. Tara stood over Andro's feet, firing at the advancing dead. The Doc and Jiri crouched down and tending to him. And Jax continued to blubber and check his body for bite marks.

  He and Danny were the only ones left; the younger man stood even with him, ten yards away and firing shots into the herd. Will whistled to get his attention. "Control the street behind us," he shouted, pointing in the direction of the truck.

  "We've got to get on the move," Danny yelled back. "Look!" He pointed to a place of the street two blocks behind where the size of the herd swelled into the hundreds, all headed their way.

  "I'm on it." He kept an eye on Andro, and it didn't look good. Even at this distance he could see the man's face was a crimson mask. The Doc gazed over from his spot tending to Andro and gave a sad shake of his head.

  Will swallowed hard, trying to clear the lump in his throat. Danny saw the same thing; he roared and rapid-fired his M4 into the crowd of creepers. Jiri had joined Tara in firing at the mob surging toward them, but it still advanced.

  Will reached into one of his pouches and extracted three grenades he pulled out of a crate back at the bank. "Well, here's another item off my bucket list," he thought wildly. One at a time he pulled the pins and threw the grenades baseball-style into the horde, tossing each one a little farther than the one before it. The first exploded with a loud, flat, whump. Severed arms and legs flew and the dead fell like bowling pins. The next two exploded in rapid succession, with the same effect.

  Except for a handful of stragglers, the street was clear of creepers for thirty yards. And the new vanguard would have to trip and stumble through a morass of downed creepers and random body parts before they came close enough to threaten the team.

  Danny shot a pair of creepers that came from the other direction, hitting them in the chest. The impact threw them back but not off their feet, and they continued toward him. He continued to fire, hitting the dead with body shots that chewed them up but didn’t stop them. He waited until they were nearly on top of him before hitting each with a headshot. As they fell at his feet he bent toward them, his body clenched like a spring, and screamed obscenities.

  Will ran his side, put a hand on the shoulder, and leaned close. "Get yourself together and pull your head out of your ass, right now. The only thing worse than losing Andro would be losing you too because you can't control your emotions. Come with me." Without waiting for a response he jogged across the street to join the rest of the crew huddled around Andro's body.

  Once there he observed Jax, who stood apart from the group and stared off into the distance with blank eyes. He was unaware of the creeper with a ring in its nose and dyed-black hair that seemed shocking atop its pale complexion. It shuffled up on Jax from behind him and was dangerously close. Will pulled his Beretta and fired, blowing apart the creeper's head and splashing blood against on Jax. The ex-cop flinched at the shot and jumped forward with a surprised squeak of fear when you the body fall.

  Will ignored him and caught the Doc's eye. "Is he gone for sure?" He pointing at Andro.

  The Doc nodded without speaking.

  "I'll take care of him. Danny, you're with me. The rest of you get to the truck." Will turned his attention to Jax, muttering and swiping at the blood in his hair with the palm of his hand. "Jax!" he barked.

  He jumped and gawked at Will.

  "Get your fat ass in the game or I'll leave it here and you can fight your way home. Get to the truck with the rest of them."

  They formed a skirmish line and walked at a diagonal toward the Ford parked across the street and down the block. Danny loomed over Andro's feet, scanning the surroundings for creepers.

  Will squatted, hissing in pain as his ankle objected. He pulled a clean handkerchief from his pants pocket and dabbed at the blood drying around Cassandro's eyes. It was coagulating, and all he accomplished was smearing the dark red jelly.

  "None of us would be here without you," he said to the motionless body. “You were the best of us, and we will honor you in our memories the rest of our days. Be at peace, my friend. Be someplace warm and sunny, with lots of pretty girls and no creepers."

  He covered Andro's face with the handkerchief and took one of his big, bronze hands in his own for a moment. He rose to his feet, sobbed once, and walked away.

  Fifty-Four

  * * *

  Will's ankle gave as he crossed the street. He nearly fell and bellowed in angry surprise and pain. Danny offered his support again; this time, Will didn't push him away. The younger man hooked an arm around his back and under his shoulder and Will draped his own arm across Danny’s shoulders and held his injured foot up off the ground. "We look like we're running the three-legged race at the county fair," he panted as they skipped and stumbled toward the truck.

  They stopped twice to put creepers down. A short, fat woman with an injury to her chest no human could live through stepped out of a nearby doorway, snarling and digging at the air with her claw-like fingers. Will carried his Beretta in his free hand; he lifted it and dropped the creeper when she was fifteen feet away.

  A few seconds later a creeper who'd been tracking the rest of the team until they climbed into the truck turned and stumbled toward the pair. It'd been a stoop-shouldered old man and it made sucking sounds and clapped its teeth greedily as it drew near.

  Danny drew his Beretta and aimed. He fired, producing was a dry clicking sound. "Shit," Danny said. He pulled the trigger twice more, to no effect. "I'm out," he said in a surprised voice as he ran his hands over his vest in search of a magazine.

&nb
sp; "Jesus Christ, Danny." Will fired, hitting it in the mouth. Blood and bits of teeth exploded out the backside of its head; he shot it twice more after it fell.

  A little over halfway to the truck, a door opened and Jiri jumped out. He trotted over and supported Will from the other side the remainder of the way back. They tried to guide him around to his usual spot on the front passenger seat but he resisted, pulling them back.

  "Just put me in anywhere and let's get out of here."

  They veered right and opened the rear driver-side door. Jax and Tara shifted over and Danny and Jiri lifted him up and in. Danny pulled himself up on the bed rail and flipped up and over into the bed. Jiri climbed back in the passenger seat and the truck started with a roar. The Doc steered it in a wide U-turn and accelerated down the street; the moaning and ravenous mob got smaller and smaller until it disappeared behind them.

  Fifty-Five

  * * *

  The cab was quiet as a tomb as they reversed the path they took to get downtown. The only noise was the sound of Tara's soft sniffles. She rested her head on Will's shoulder and clutched his hand in both of hers.

  Jiri broke the silence from the driver's seat. "We need to pull over somewhere and shuffle around. I'm supposed to get us back but I can't negotiate Justin's maps while I'm driving.”

  "Fine," Will said. “Pull in a parking lot wherever you want and swap with Danny." He stared out the window, looking at but not seeing the passing scenery. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Andro's face and his shy smile. His ankle ached; the smallest movement produced red-hot pain that left him nauseous. Jiri swung left and right, threading his way through the dead. Each sway caused Will to grit his teeth and squeeze his empty hand into a fist as he tried not to groan out loud.

  Jiri turned into a McDonald's parking lot so Danny could take over behind the wheel. The Doc slid down from his perch on the jumpseat, too.

  "Where are you going, Samuel?" Will asked.

  "To take a piss. I've needed to pee for the last two hours, and my bladder is old. I'm fairly certain I’ve pissed myself at least once."

  "That was more information than I needed," Will said.

  Tara giggled despite her grief and sat up straight. "I have to go, too."

  The Ford emptied and everybody found a spot to relieve themselves. Will slid off the seat and landed on his good leg, holding the door frame for support. He pissed where he stood, leaning against the truck to hold himself up.

  As he finished, the sound of feet shuffling over broken glass and the bone-chilling moan of the dead sent shivers up his spine. The crew hurried back from the places they had scattered to as a herd of about twenty creepers came up over a rise behind the Golden Arches.

  "Jesus Jumped Up Christ in a Sidecar," Will said, his tone amazed. "You can't even take a piss in this town without bringing a herd on you."

  They got rolling and drove in silence again. Will looked out the window at some of the same buildings he recognized from the drive in. They were on the outskirts of the nasty little suburb, Duenweg, when Danny said the words on everyone’s mind.

  "It's a shame we had to leave his body behind," he said in a soft tone.

  Will let out a big breath of air. He started to speak, but his voice cracked; he swallowed twice and tried again."If the circumstances had been different, we could have carried him out of there. But Jesus- you saw it. Three hundred creepers were coming at us from a block-and-half away. If we tried to get his body and lost two more of y'all because of it- no way. That's not a trade I'm willing to make."

  "Nobody disagrees with your decision, Will," said Jiri. "I would have made the same call."

  The rest of the group made murmurs of agreement.

  Will ducked his head and ran his palm through his thick hair. "That don't make it any easier."

  They slipped back into a morose silence. A few miles later the truck slowed and Will looked over Danny's shoulder to see why. About twenty of the dead filled the road, gathering around the carcass of a deer, ripping it to shreds. At the sound of the oncoming engine they looked up and stared, their eyes opaque and their mouths and chins glistening red with blood.

  "We want me to do, boss?" Asked Danny.

  "Drive through them. Go slow. Let the cowcatcher push them out of the way. And drive around that poor deer."

  As the truck drew close, the creepers shuffled to meet it. The cowcatcher produced several meaty thumps as it shoved the dead aside and threw them to the ground; the ones left standing slapped at the truck and snarled as it passed. Danny drove over a creeper that fell in front of them; the effect was much like a speed bump. And then they were clear.

  Will was busy calculating how much time they had left on the road when Tara gave a startled gasp. She leaned toward him and away from Jax and tapped like mad on Will's leg.

  "Will, look." She pointed at Jax.

  The ex-policeman had spent the last fifteen minutes removing his padding with a pocket knife. He stared at a spot on his forearm that bore four punctures marks and a short, shallow gash.

  Will's blood turned cold when he realized he was probably looking at the man's death sentence. "Did one of them get through your padding?"

  "I guess so. I didn't feel anything but pressure when I wrestled with him." He looked at Will with an ashen face and trembling lips. "Does this mean I'm going to die?"

  Will studied the wounds. "Are you sure that's a bite? Did you get scratched, or did the road do that somehow?"

  The Doc turned around in his seat and looked at Jax's arm. "That's a bite. Human teeth made those punctures."

  Jax bent low and covered his arm with his thick stomach as if to protect it. "Oh, shit," he said. He repeated it several times, then stopped and looked at the Doc. He clasped his hands and leaned close to him. "But it's not a bad bite, right? Maybe he didn't get deep enough to infect me."

  The Doc looked at him with compassion and spoke with a tenderness that belied his words. "Son, I'm sorry to say, but in my experience, a bite deep enough to break the skin always gets saliva in the victim's blood."

  "But you don't know that!" Jax was desperate now, looking for loopholes in the laws of the zombie apocalypse. "All you ever worked on was animals, you don't know if it’s the same with people. How many human bites have you ever even seen?"

  The Doc agreed with a nod of his head. "You're absolutely right. I don't have a history of treating patients on two legs. What about the symptoms? Do you have a fever?"

  "I don't… It doesn't feel like it. How do you tell?"

  It was obvious that Jax's temperature was up- he was sweating profusely and pale. Tara reached over and put her palm on his forehead, then drew it back with a hiss. "He's burning up,” she said in a flat voice as she scooted closer to Will.

  Jax collapsed into the corner and drew his legs up to his chest. "Oh my God," he sobbed.

  Will listened to him cry for a few minutes and then jabbed Tara in the ribs with his elbow. With just their eyes and small head movements, they had a brief conversation.

  – Get over there and tend to him.

  – Are you kidding me? No way!

  – Get over there!

  – Man, are you going to owe me for this.

  She scooted over, put an arm around Jax’s shoulders and leaned in until their foreheads touched. She murmured to him in soft words that Will couldn't make out, then patted him on the knee and gave him a bright smile.

  At first, Jax didn't respond; he just sat there with his head bowed. After a bit he looked at Tara, nodded, and swiped his eyes with his forearm. "Sorry about that," he said.

  Will gave him a dismissive wave of his hand. "Don't worry about it. When the day comes that I get bit I'll run around screaming like my ass is on fire."

  Jax thanked him with a smile. He talked for a time as if giving his own eulogy to a crowd that had come to see him off to his great reward. He talked about regrets and things that made him happy; his wife, and the one true love that got away.

  Will
listened and made sympathetic sounds at the appropriate times but he didn’t hear the stricken man's words. A question bothered him, and as they got closer to the quarry, he worried they would get back before he asked. So he waited for a lull in Jax's monologue and blurted it out. "Why were you out there, Jax?"

  Jax looked at him with a puzzled expression.

  "I mean, the whole time we've been here, you've been an administrator. Fighting the dead obviously isn't your thing. And that's fine, it’s not an insult. It’s not for everybody. In fact, I think it helps to be a little crazy to do it. But you clearly didn't want to be out there today. So why'd you come?"

  Jack's shrugged. "The Judge wanted me to go to keep an eye on you guys."

  Will recoiled. "Keep an eye on us how? What worried him?"

  "I don't know. He doesn't like it when you guys go out together in a group, in case you're up to something. He wants one of us around when it happens."

  Will nodded. He simmered inside but dropped the subject. For now, he thought. Just for now.

  Fifty-Six

  * * *

  Terrence and Justin had spread the word of the victorious mission earlier when they returned with the weapons. As the Ford rolled across the quarry bottom towards their home tunnel, what seemed to be everybody in the community gathered and waited for them in a joyous crowd. As the crew exited the truck, the mob greeted them with cheers and applause that slowly quieted when they saw the expressions on the crew members faces.

  Becky hugged Will’s neck hard, then pulled back and scanned the crew. Her brow wrinkled for a moment and she gazed back at him, her eyes big and round. "Where's Cassandro?"

  Will looked at her, saying nothing.

  She covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes searching his face. He nodded; she gasped and pulled him close. "Oh my God, honey I'm so sorry."

  He didn't respond; he simply held her, rubbing the back of her neck with one rough hand. From behind him came an anguished cry. He snapped his head around in time to see Breanne fall to her knees, sobbing and holding her pregnant belly in both hands.