LovewithaChanceofZombies by Delphine Dryden Page A

maybe we can find a use for him over at the mayor’s office. I might need to
rethink assigning new recruits to you for training, but that’s an issue for
another day. I have a new short-term assignment for you anyway. You need a
breather from the field.”
    “Sir, he went ‘boosh’ when I took out a morning straggler
with a clean hit,” Lena protested, “and that was after I’d warned him to show
more respect. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same. I’ve been in
the field with you and—”
    “Lena.”
    “He had no sense of decency. He thought it was funny.”
    “Stanton! Simmer down. The kid was a jackass. I agree with
you. I’m not putting you on a shit detail.” Watson looked more amused than
irked.
    Theirs wasn’t quite a military operation, although it
certainly bore similarities to that kind of organization. Still, most of the
scouts treated Tom Watson like their commander-in-chief, and given his background
before Zero Hour it was really no surprise. He had been a retired admiral, and
now he was the closest thing this little pocket of humanity had to a general.
He was also the closest thing most of his scouts had to a father. Nick Cochrane
was the duly elected “mayor” of their colony, but Watson was seen by most as
the man in charge.
    “I’m sorry, sir.” Lena looked down at her toe, scuffing it
along a deep crack in the green linoleum.
    “You’re still wired up from patrol,” he scolded, but not
very harshly. He had been there. He understood. Lena knew that. “I’ll cut you
some slack. Are you ready to listen to me about this now?”
    She nodded, chagrined. She could tell he was right—she felt
the lingering tension clinging to her body. The hyper-vigilance that meant survival
out in the field usually just meant acting like a jerk once inside the safety
fence. You had to learn to shift gears. It was part of the job. Rolling her
shoulders looser, she raised her eyes again as Watson continued.
    “Okay. Ironically, given the tone of this conversation, I
picked you for this because I trust you to have a little finesse and judgment.
As well as a little compassion. I was right to think that, I hope?”
    “Yes sir.”
    “You know Lucas Nye?”
    “The doctor? Of course. Everybody knows him.”
    It was a community of fewer than a thousand people, living
in close quarters. There weren’t many doctors, and even fewer who actually
seemed to hold the title legitimately. Nye had been near the end of his
residency when Zero Hour came. That was close enough for most people.
    More importantly, Nye was a genius. He had been a superstar
even before the plague, starting college at fourteen and going on to publish
all sorts of papers, winning grants and conducting complex studies in
epidemiology and virus research. He had even done some consulting for the CDC.
He’d been courted by the finest research facilities in the world. If anybody
could figure out a cure for this thing, the rumors went, it was surely Lucas
Nye.
    “Well, they don’t know what I’m about to tell you, you got
that? Classified, nobody hears this unless I tell them. Still sure you’re
ready?” At her nod, Watson continued. “Nye was at the poultry farm last week,
taking some blood samples. They think the chickens may have bird flu or
something. Because we needed something else to worry about. Anyway, his truck
got a flat on the way back, about a mile from the gate. They radioed for help
but it was already close to sunset, and you know all the activity the farms
have been getting lately.”
    “Crap. They got hit?”
    “Just a small group, luckily. But fresh and alert, really
dangerous. The driver and Nye took out all of them, but one got too close and
landed a bite before he died. Lucky for Nye it was on his ankle, not anywhere
near his brain. That might buy him a little more time. Few more weeks. Maybe.”
    “Fuck.”
    Watson nodded agreement with Lena’s crude but undeniable
sentiment. They both knew what a bite