the world would go on. Now I realized suddenly that it wouldn’t.
The world would never be the same again. Fear and horror were the new everyday reality. We weren’t victims of s ome terrible natural disaster – we were the survivors of an apocalyptic plague.
I shook my head in disbelief. “The Government…?”
“There isn’t one,” Walker said bluntly. “And there’s no army. It’s like every worse-case nuclear scenario you could imagine,” he said darkly. “There are pockets of survivors, but chaos reigns. The undead virus has wiped out everything. Social order collapsed within the first week. Since then it has just gotten worse.”
Harrigan interrupted. “You said there were survivors. What do you mean?”
Walker stared down into the light of the candle and his voice became low and heavy.
“The navy has ships off the coast. They were recalled from their station in the Mediterranean once things got out of hand. The infection hasn’t reached them. They’re offshore, taking any survivors who can reach them.”
I shook my head. It made no sense. “And how the hell do people reach the ships?”
Walker made a macabre, bleak face. “There is a staging point about forty miles south of here. It’s a little town on the coast called Pentelle. Somehow, it has remained virus free. There are troops there.”
I stared off into the darkness.
Forty miles.
It might as well be a million. The chances of us ever making the distance through a world filled with undead killers were practically zero.
“The only other way… is by helicopter,” Walker said, and there was a pointed bitter emphasis to his words.
Harrigan picked up the ball. “And that’s where you and your daughter were heading?”
Walker nodded. “The plan was to fly to Pentelle,” he said softly. “There was a pilot flying people out of the Capitol. He was charging twenty grand for a seat on his chopper.”
I sat and thought for long seconds. “Is that why the helicopter was painted black?”
Walker shrugged. “I suppose,” he said, as though it had never been something he had considered. “This guy was making a fortune. He was ferrying the wealthy and the desperate. He didn’t care.”
I did some more thinking, and then shook my head slowly. “We never heard an other helicopter,” I said. “Ever. If this guy was flying people from the Capitol to this place on the coast, why didn’t we hear him flying overhead? He must have been making several flights a day. It’s probably only a two hundred and fifty mile flight.”
“We got into trouble,” Walker explained. “We should have been east of here. The route was along the coast. But shortly after liftoff, there were engine problems. At first I thought the pilot was scamming us – trying to get extra money. But he wasn’t. The instrument panel went haywire, and suddenly we were flying miles off course. He was fighting just to keep the thing in the air. That’s how we ended up here – and it’s the reason we crashed.”
“You were lucky to survive,” Harrigan said gently.
Walker said nothing for a long moment, then he looked up at Harrigan’s ruddy face. “Were we?” he asked softly, then shook his head. “I prayed that if we crashed, we died instantly – because that death would be better than being torn apart by the undead.”
Solemn silence. My thoughts went back to the dead bodies littered across the grass just a few hundred yards back down the street, and to the scene Jed had described as the undead ghouls had reached the helicopter and torn the pilot’s body apart.
“Do you know anything about the virus?” I asked Walker. “How it spreads? How it affects the victims? How to stop them?”
Walker took a deep breath and frowned in dark concentration. “It’s bad,” he said. “Real bad. If you’re asking me what the scientists call the virus, I honestly couldn’t tell you. It’s got a name about twenty-seven letters long. But in Washington – and on
The world would never be the same again. Fear and horror were the new everyday reality. We weren’t victims of s ome terrible natural disaster – we were the survivors of an apocalyptic plague.
I shook my head in disbelief. “The Government…?”
“There isn’t one,” Walker said bluntly. “And there’s no army. It’s like every worse-case nuclear scenario you could imagine,” he said darkly. “There are pockets of survivors, but chaos reigns. The undead virus has wiped out everything. Social order collapsed within the first week. Since then it has just gotten worse.”
Harrigan interrupted. “You said there were survivors. What do you mean?”
Walker stared down into the light of the candle and his voice became low and heavy.
“The navy has ships off the coast. They were recalled from their station in the Mediterranean once things got out of hand. The infection hasn’t reached them. They’re offshore, taking any survivors who can reach them.”
I shook my head. It made no sense. “And how the hell do people reach the ships?”
Walker made a macabre, bleak face. “There is a staging point about forty miles south of here. It’s a little town on the coast called Pentelle. Somehow, it has remained virus free. There are troops there.”
I stared off into the darkness.
Forty miles.
It might as well be a million. The chances of us ever making the distance through a world filled with undead killers were practically zero.
“The only other way… is by helicopter,” Walker said, and there was a pointed bitter emphasis to his words.
Harrigan picked up the ball. “And that’s where you and your daughter were heading?”
Walker nodded. “The plan was to fly to Pentelle,” he said softly. “There was a pilot flying people out of the Capitol. He was charging twenty grand for a seat on his chopper.”
I sat and thought for long seconds. “Is that why the helicopter was painted black?”
Walker shrugged. “I suppose,” he said, as though it had never been something he had considered. “This guy was making a fortune. He was ferrying the wealthy and the desperate. He didn’t care.”
I did some more thinking, and then shook my head slowly. “We never heard an other helicopter,” I said. “Ever. If this guy was flying people from the Capitol to this place on the coast, why didn’t we hear him flying overhead? He must have been making several flights a day. It’s probably only a two hundred and fifty mile flight.”
“We got into trouble,” Walker explained. “We should have been east of here. The route was along the coast. But shortly after liftoff, there were engine problems. At first I thought the pilot was scamming us – trying to get extra money. But he wasn’t. The instrument panel went haywire, and suddenly we were flying miles off course. He was fighting just to keep the thing in the air. That’s how we ended up here – and it’s the reason we crashed.”
“You were lucky to survive,” Harrigan said gently.
Walker said nothing for a long moment, then he looked up at Harrigan’s ruddy face. “Were we?” he asked softly, then shook his head. “I prayed that if we crashed, we died instantly – because that death would be better than being torn apart by the undead.”
Solemn silence. My thoughts went back to the dead bodies littered across the grass just a few hundred yards back down the street, and to the scene Jed had described as the undead ghouls had reached the helicopter and torn the pilot’s body apart.
“Do you know anything about the virus?” I asked Walker. “How it spreads? How it affects the victims? How to stop them?”
Walker took a deep breath and frowned in dark concentration. “It’s bad,” he said. “Real bad. If you’re asking me what the scientists call the virus, I honestly couldn’t tell you. It’s got a name about twenty-seven letters long. But in Washington – and on
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