drives.”
A thousand thoughts raced through Dez’s head. None of them were good. Most were way across the line into paranoia, but she felt justified in thinking every one of them.
“Tell you what, General,” she said, “how about you do this? How about you airlift us the hell out of here? Take us to Pittsburgh or Philly or somewhere other than where people are eating each other. How about you do that and then we can talk about the flash drives.”
“You know we can’t risk that. You have to understand that.”
“Sure. Have a nice day, General. Thanks for calling.”
“Wait!”
“What?” she barked.
“We can’t take you out. You have to understand that. We don’t know enough about this disease to guarantee that it’s safe to bring you out. Until we look at Dr. Volker’s research notes we don’t know all the ways in which this thing can be communicated. We have concerns that anyone coming into close contact with the skin or blood of one of the infected might be at risk. We don’t know if someone can carry the infection without developing obvious symptoms. There are a lot of things we don’t know and until we do, we need to keep you in isolation. Surely you can appreciate the severity of this, surely you can understand the necessity of—”
“Okay, okay, yeah, I get it. Fuck.”
“So letting us have the flash drives is the quickest and surest way to help us understand this enough so that we can get you out of there.”
“I get the logic, General, but pardon me if I don’t trust your motives worth a wet shit.”
The general sighed. “Is there something else I can do for you that would encourage you to do the right thing here?”
“Fuck you.”
“Officer Fox, I—”
“No, General, fuck you. In fact, fuck you and that asshole in the White House, and fuck everyone else who had a hand in this. Fuck all of you. All of you. Am I making myself clear? Is any of that getting through? You deserve to burn in hell.”
General Zetter’s response caught her totally off guard. He said, “I know.”
A sob broke in Dez’s chest. She squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could, wincing at the effort not to see anything, even her own thoughts.
“You killed him,” she said.
“Who?” asked Zetter sharply, clearly alarmed. “Is Mr. Trout—”
“Not him, you douchebag. You killed JT.”
“Who is that, Officer Fox? Was that a friend of yours?”
“Patrol Sergeant JT Hammond, Stebbins Police. A good man. A family man. A decent person who only ever cared about other people. You maniacs killed him.”
Zetter said, “Was he the officer who went outside with the other infected?”
“Yes.” It hurt Dez to say that one word.
“I … he…” Zetter cleared his throat. “I saw what happened to him. I saw what he did. He protected the children from the infected. Officer Hammond died a hero.”
Dez banged the back of head against the wall. “JT was murdered and you bastards killed him. And now you want us to spread our legs and let you fuck us.”
“That’s not how it is, Officer.”
“Yeah,” she said. “It is.”
Neither of them spoke again for several burning seconds.
Then Zetter said, “We need those flash drives.”
“If you try to take them, General, I’ll burn them. You can come in here with guns blazing and you won’t find shit. But I can promise that every single thing you do will be streamed live to the Net. The world’s watching, General.”
“Officer Fox,” said the general, “be careful not to overplay your hand. You might not have as many good cards as you think. I’m trying to work something out we can both live with—and I do mean live —don’t make fools out of both of us, and don’t make martyrs out of the children in that school.”
Dez almost told him to eat shit, but she kept her tongue. What he’d just said chilled her, filling her mind with awful possibilities.
“Look,” she said, “Volker gave the flash drives to Billy. It’s his call.
A thousand thoughts raced through Dez’s head. None of them were good. Most were way across the line into paranoia, but she felt justified in thinking every one of them.
“Tell you what, General,” she said, “how about you do this? How about you airlift us the hell out of here? Take us to Pittsburgh or Philly or somewhere other than where people are eating each other. How about you do that and then we can talk about the flash drives.”
“You know we can’t risk that. You have to understand that.”
“Sure. Have a nice day, General. Thanks for calling.”
“Wait!”
“What?” she barked.
“We can’t take you out. You have to understand that. We don’t know enough about this disease to guarantee that it’s safe to bring you out. Until we look at Dr. Volker’s research notes we don’t know all the ways in which this thing can be communicated. We have concerns that anyone coming into close contact with the skin or blood of one of the infected might be at risk. We don’t know if someone can carry the infection without developing obvious symptoms. There are a lot of things we don’t know and until we do, we need to keep you in isolation. Surely you can appreciate the severity of this, surely you can understand the necessity of—”
“Okay, okay, yeah, I get it. Fuck.”
“So letting us have the flash drives is the quickest and surest way to help us understand this enough so that we can get you out of there.”
“I get the logic, General, but pardon me if I don’t trust your motives worth a wet shit.”
The general sighed. “Is there something else I can do for you that would encourage you to do the right thing here?”
“Fuck you.”
“Officer Fox, I—”
“No, General, fuck you. In fact, fuck you and that asshole in the White House, and fuck everyone else who had a hand in this. Fuck all of you. All of you. Am I making myself clear? Is any of that getting through? You deserve to burn in hell.”
General Zetter’s response caught her totally off guard. He said, “I know.”
A sob broke in Dez’s chest. She squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could, wincing at the effort not to see anything, even her own thoughts.
“You killed him,” she said.
“Who?” asked Zetter sharply, clearly alarmed. “Is Mr. Trout—”
“Not him, you douchebag. You killed JT.”
“Who is that, Officer Fox? Was that a friend of yours?”
“Patrol Sergeant JT Hammond, Stebbins Police. A good man. A family man. A decent person who only ever cared about other people. You maniacs killed him.”
Zetter said, “Was he the officer who went outside with the other infected?”
“Yes.” It hurt Dez to say that one word.
“I … he…” Zetter cleared his throat. “I saw what happened to him. I saw what he did. He protected the children from the infected. Officer Hammond died a hero.”
Dez banged the back of head against the wall. “JT was murdered and you bastards killed him. And now you want us to spread our legs and let you fuck us.”
“That’s not how it is, Officer.”
“Yeah,” she said. “It is.”
Neither of them spoke again for several burning seconds.
Then Zetter said, “We need those flash drives.”
“If you try to take them, General, I’ll burn them. You can come in here with guns blazing and you won’t find shit. But I can promise that every single thing you do will be streamed live to the Net. The world’s watching, General.”
“Officer Fox,” said the general, “be careful not to overplay your hand. You might not have as many good cards as you think. I’m trying to work something out we can both live with—and I do mean live —don’t make fools out of both of us, and don’t make martyrs out of the children in that school.”
Dez almost told him to eat shit, but she kept her tongue. What he’d just said chilled her, filling her mind with awful possibilities.
“Look,” she said, “Volker gave the flash drives to Billy. It’s his call.
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