He loved her. No equivocation. No weasel words. He’d said it before, but she’d almost been afraid to believe.
“I don’t want to leave you here.”
“You have to. These things can kill you with a single scratch. Get in the car. Put as much distance between yourself and this place as possible. I’ll catch up with you.”
“I’ll drive. You keep shooting from the passenger seat.”
She thought she had him convinced when he moved around to the other side of the car, closer to the advancing army of zombies. Emily ducked into the driver’s side and closed the door, praying Sam would get in on the other side. She couldn’t be sure. Sam had a hero streak a mile wide and a foot deep.
The first of the zombies he’d shot were disintegrating but there were just too many of them. They were only a few yards away now and closing fast. She started the car.
“Come on, Sam!”
She thought she’d won when Sam turned toward the car but a gunshot stopped him cold. The bullet ricocheted off the passenger door, making a pinging sound.
Sam turned, firing even as he raised his arm toward the balcony. Krychek went down hard as Sam’s bullet hit him in the chest.
Krychek had shot at Sam—or at the car. She couldn’t be sure what his target was. Either way, he’d died for it.
Sugden took aim with his rifle at that point, both of his buyers dead, but he didn’t get a chance to fire even one dart. Sam drilled a hole between his eyes and he dropped to one knee, then collapsed. Dead.
That left the zombies. They were getting close enough that Emily could see their faces—or what was left of their faces. Every one of them had dried bloodstains around their mouths and down the front of what was left of their clothing. Many were missing pieces. Noses, fingers, ears, lips. One was more gruesome than the next. All were a ghastly grayish color.
“Sam?” They really needed to get away from here. The creatures were cutting off their escape route. “Sam!”
She looked at him. He was talking to his commander by phone, shooting all the while. He hooked the phone to his shirt and reloaded his handgun with a new clip. He needed help. Emily leaned out the window and fired off as many shots as she could from the awkward angle, trying to make every one of them count. She fired until she was out of ammo but it still wasn’t enough.
Sam kept firing, making his way toward the car. She eyeballed the distance between him and the car. He wasn’t going to make it.
Emily revved the Porsche and tried to move closer. There wasn’t much room to maneuver and moving closer to Sam meant moving closer to the zombie horde. Sam had walked nearer to them while shooting and stepped backward as they advanced.
Something thudded against the back of the car.
A quick look back told her there were even more of the creatures coming up behind them. They were cutting her off from Sam!
She could hear him yelling into his phone. He was ordering the air strike.
“Send the missile now!” he screamed. “Do it now. There are too many of them.”
Twenty of the creatures got between her and Sam, cutting off her view. She tried to ram them with the car, but they felt no pain. They didn’t move out of her way and she couldn’t get up enough speed in the small space to push them or throw them. One broke the passenger side window and a flash of bloodstained claws swiped at her face. More were coming around to the driver’s side. If they surrounded her, she was dead.
“Emily!”
She could hear Sam screaming her name above the inhuman moaning of the creatures and the purring of the high performance engine.
“The bombs are on their way,” he shouted. “Get out of here! Go now!”
“Sam,” she whispered, tears running down her face as she saw him fighting hand to hand with one of the creatures. He was totally surrounded now and bleeding.
Oh, God! He was bleeding. He’d been scratched or bitten. It didn’t really matter which. Either way, according to what he’d told her, he was dead already.
“Sam.” She felt tears streaming down her face as she put the car in gear, cutting sharply to the left, away from Sam and the majority of the monsters. “God, Sam, please forgive me.” She gunned the engine and drove away from the horror scene as fast as she could.
In her rearview mirror, she saw the giant, all consuming fireball a few moments later. The thunder of it roared in her ears and the pressure wave beat against her chest like a bass drum. The ranch house had sustained a direct hit.
No way anything survived that. Or anyone.
Emily stopped the car and cried in great, heaving sobs for the man she loved.
It could have been minutes or it could have been hours before she was startled out of her sorrow by a tapping noise. Someone was tapping on the hood of the car. She looked up, fearing the worst, half-expecting to see one of the creatures who’d escaped the blaze.
But it was a man in black combat gear, heavily armed, concern on his face.
“Ms. Parkington?”
He knew her name. That meant he was most likely part of Sam’s team.
Oh, God. Sam.
“Sam was back there…” she hiccupped and pointed behind her.
“It’s okay, Ms. Parkington. We’ll find him. Stay here.” A group of similarly outfitted people started jogging through the drifting smoke toward the flames.
She’d be damned if she was going to stay here. She had the car. If those creatures were still out there, she could drive away again before any of them got to her. She was pretty sure they were all gone. Blown to kingdom come and then fried to ash in the inferno that followed the explosion of the most destructive missile she’d ever seen.
Of course, she’d never seen ordinance explode at this close range before, but she’d heard about it from her brother. Knowing he’d been the one to fire the weapon made it somehow more surreal than it already was. And she’d been on the ground. She hadn’t heard anything overhead. He must’ve fired that sucker from miles away.
All that ran through her mind as she shoved the car in reverse. The car almost spun out when she turned it around too fast. Then she was on her way, back the way she’d come. She passed some of the black-outfitted team members on her way. She caught an expression of surprise on one of their faces. A woman. She would have been surprised herself if she’d given any thought to the fact that they had a woman on their team at that moment. As it was, she sped past the surprised woman and her partner—a man who shouted at her to stop.
Yeah, right. Nothing was stopping her until she knew for certain what happened to Sam. If he was dead… Oh, God. If he was dead…she had to see it for herself. If not, she had the fast car. She’d get him to a hospital if these mysterious soldiers didn’t have the means to treat him on the spot.
The majority of the soldiers were clustered around the far wall of the barn. It was the only part of the structure still standing. Emily maneuvered the bright red car around to shine her headlights on the scene from the other side of the bonfire that still raged from the direction of the house.
She heard gunshots as she approached and realized not all the creatures had been destroyed by the bombardment. Then she saw them in her headlight beams. The soldiers had formed a line and were gunning down the remaining creatures. There were only a few and the team made short work of them.
Then she saw the figure on the ground. The zombies had been clustered around him.
Sam.
She slammed on the brakes and threw the car in park even as she opened the door.
“Get back in the car, Ms. Parkington,” a man ordered her but she wasn’t listening. Nothing would keep her from Sam.
“There could be more of them. This area’s contaminated.” Another man tried to prevent her from getting to Sam, stepping in front of her.
“I don’t give a damn,” she cursed him, trying to push him aside. “I need to see Sam.”
“It’s best if you don’t,” another man walked up from where Sam lay a few yards distant. He had a kind face, but his expression was hard.
“I need to see him.” She stood her ground, facing the two men down. She wasn’t giving an inch. “Please.”
One of them shifted on his feet. He was weakening. Finally, he turned to his side, allowing her to pass.
“Don’t touch anything,” the other one called out, following her as if he were an honor guard.
There was a woman at Sam’s side, dressed like the others, all in black. But this woman had gloves on her hands and she seemed to be treating Sam’s wounds.
“Is he alive?” Emily’s voice shook as she approached.
The woman kneeling at Sam’s side looked up in surprise. She looked from Emily to the silent soldier at her back. Seeming to get permission to speak, the woman answered her.
“He’s alive.”
“How is that possible?” Emily had seen the blast. She’d been sure nothing could have survived the maelstrom.
“This part of the barn shielded him, as did a few of the creatures who landed on him. A couple of them made it too. We had to put them out of their misery,” the man answered.
Emily edged closer. “Can I see him?”
The woman silently leaned back so Emily could see Sam’s face. He was unconscious and every spot of flesh she could see from his face to his arms through his ripped up shirt was covered in blood, scratches, deep gouges, and burns. He’d most likely be horribly scarred if he made it through this alive. Her heart broke. She loved him. At that moment she knew she’d stand by him no matter how it turned out. She’d stay by his bedside and nurse him if he let her. It would be her honor.
She moved closer. “Sam?” She knew he was unconscious, but she hoped somehow he heard her. “I’m here, Sam. I’m not going anywhere, so don’t you leave me.” Her words choked out on a pained whisper. She didn’t care who heard. The only person who mattered lay bleeding and burned on the ground at her feet.
“Sam’ll be okay. You’d be surprised what a man can take and still come out of it okay.” The man was at her side awkwardly trying to comfort her.
“It looks a lot worse than it is,” the woman offered. She had a kind face and she was trying to be nice but Emily wasn’t a fool. Sam would never be the same carefree man she’d fallen in love with but it didn’t matter. She loved him. He loved her. He’d said so and she’d hold him to it, if he made it out of this alive.
“Do you have a helicopter or something to get him to a hospital? If not, that Porsche can move fast. He needs medical care.”
“I’m a doctor,” the woman said. “Don’t worry. I’ll look after him. I’ve done it before.” A small smile touched her mouth.
“What about the contagion?” It suddenly dawned on her that he was scratched up and even bitten in a few places that she could see, but he was still breathing. He wasn’t dead. From what she’d witnessed earlier, the contagion should have ended his life long before now.
“He’s immune,” the woman said offhandedly. The soldier at Emily’s side shifted uncomfortably.
“That’s need to know, doc,” he reminded her.
“For goodness sake, she’s seen these things up close and personal. I think she’d have figured it out when things calmed down anyway.” The woman went back to treating Sam. She had some kind of swabs she was using to clean out the worst of the dirt and dress the deepest wounds.
The relief that hit Emily when she learned that there was such a thing as immunity to the zombie bug calmed her nerves somewhat. Sam was immune. Such a simple statement that meant so much. No wonder he’d claimed the creatures couldn’t hurt him. They couldn’t turn him into one of their number. He’d never succumb to the contagion. That’s why they sent him after the zombies in the first place. His immunity had no doubt been his ticket onto this eclectic team that seemed to be made up of both men and women, soldiers, doctors, and who knew what else.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Emily asked the woman.
“Not really. I’m just doing a quick field dressing so we can move him without his losing more blood. We’ll give him a thorough decon once we get him someplace cleaner. Where are we going, by the way?” she asked the soldier.
“The air base.” The man touched his ear and turned slightly away, indicating he was communicating with someone over his tiny headset. He turned back and his gaze pinned Emily in place. “You’re welcome to come with us, Ms. Parkington. We’ll send someone to the B&B to get your stuff.”
“And release Mrs. McGillicuddy. Scott tied her to a chair in the front parlor,” she said absently. Everything was taking on a surreal quality again. Relief that Sam was alive battled with worry that he was so badly injured, and left her numb. The adrenaline rush that had kept her going was leaving her now. She was crashing hard, her limbs shaking.
She knew one thing for certain though. She was going with them. She’d go wherever Sam went. She’d stay by his side and see him through this. However long it took.
“Chopper’s coming in,” the soldier said only a moment before Emily heard the blades.
A black helicopter landed in the small pasture behind where the barn had once stood. Men piled out with a stretcher and ran over to them. They made short work of loading Sam on it and running back toward the waiting chopper. Emily followed behind the doctor and jumped on board, claiming a seat and strapping in automatically. Before she knew it, they were airborne.
She didn’t know how long they were in the air or even what direction they were going in. Normally, such knowledge would be second nature to her but right now, she just didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything except Sam’s condition. The doctor, true to her word, kept careful watch on him, doing what she could even during the flight to make him more comfortable.
By the time they landed on a rooftop of what she assumed was a hospital, she’d started an I.V. and had stopped the bleeding from the worst of his wounds. The two men who’d loaded Sam on the chopper jumped out first and took charge of getting him out of the helicopter once they landed. Only then did she realize the two men were in hazmat suits with breathing apparatus and thick gloves. She assumed the helicopter and everything they touched would be decontaminated once they’d disembarked. From what she’d seen that night, it was good they were taking such extreme precautions.
She never wanted to see another zombie in her life. They were worse than the few horror movies her brother had dragged her to in their teens. Movie makeup guys had nothing on the true horror of what she’d seen. Nothing could match it and she only prayed she could forget, but feared she’d be having nightmares about it for the rest of her life.
Emily followed behind the little parade led by Sam, now on a rolling gurney, with the two hazmat suited men. The doctor was right behind them and Emily followed her. It was a short walk into the hospital and into a fully equipped private room. There were no windows and the doors had a special entryway that felt like it had negative air pressure. Being a pilot, Emily’s ears were sensitive to such things.
“We’re getting a sealed suite. It’s where they quarantine possibly contagious cases of various kinds,” the doctor said, falling back to walk at Emily’s side.
The hazmat men rolled Sam into the center of the room and lowered the sides, making him more comfortable. The doctor talked with them for a few moments, then let them go. They left the room without another word and disappeared.
“Well, we’re on our own for now,” the woman said, moving to Sam’s side. “I’m Eileen, by the way. I’d shake your hand, but you’re not immune, so you need to be very careful about what you touch in here.”
“So you are? Immune, I mean.”
“Yep,” Eileen answered with a small grin. “I guess Sam didn’t tell you about that part. Don’t get mad at him though. He was under orders. The contagion alone is bad enough but if Sugden knew there were more cases of spontaneous immunity—or in Sam’s case, manufactured immunity—he would have hunted us down to get his hands on it.”
“Manufactured immunity?”
“Something I developed. A serum that works in only a small fraction of the population right now, unfortunately. Luckily, it worked for Sam when he played hero and jumped out of a chopper to help one of the other men. He got infected and would have died but the serum worked on him, thank goodness.”
Emily could picture it. After seeing him in action that night, she knew firsthand how brave he was under fire.
“That sounds like Sam. I’m glad you were there to save him.”
“He’s special, isn’t he?” Eileen agreed as she cut away his shirt. “A terrible patient, but a good man.”
“I heard that.”
Sam’s voice. Whispery and weak, but Sam was definitely awake. Emily rushed to his side.
“Don’t touch,” the doctor reminded her when Emily reached out. “Not ’til we get him cleaned up and decontaminated.” Emily pulled back reluctantly. It hurt not to be able to touch him.
“How do you feel?”
“Like I just got blown to hell and back with a few dozen zombies. How do I look?” His mouth tilted upward at one corner in a roguish smile. Even battered, bloody, and burnt, he still managed to be charming.
“About the same,” Eileen answered.
“Em?” His head turned toward her. He moved slowly, as if in pain.
“I’m here.” How she wished she could at least hold his hand, but even that simple touch was denied her.
“Tell your brother I owe him.”
A startled laugh escaped her. That wasn’t what she expected him to say by a long shot, but it was typical, irreverent, vintage Sam.
“I’ll tell him.” Tears gathered in her eyes but she didn’t let them fall.
“Don’t worry, Em. I’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
“You’re reassuring me?” She gave him a tearful laugh. “I think you’ve got it backwards, Sam.”
“No I don’t. Doc, tell her. She doesn’t know.” Sam’s head rolled so he could look at the doctor.
Eileen’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry.” She looked truly contrite. “He really will be all right. Tomorrow at this time, you probably won’t even know he was hurt.”
Emily frowned. “What?”
“You might as well know it all,” Eileen replied, going back to work bathing Sam’s wounds. “The original goal of the research was to develop something that would make soldiers heal faster. In the few people that are immune, that goal has been achieved. Unfortunately, only a micro-percentage of the normal population is spontaneously immune, according to my calculations. And my serum only works on another small segment. The risk of the contagion is too great to use, even with the few successes we’ve had. Like Sam.”
Emily almost didn’t believe the doctor’s words. They didn’t make sense. Not when confronted by Sam’s injuries.
“Here,” Eileen pointed to an area on Sam’s chest. “Watch.”
The patch of skin had been exposed to the flames, torn by claws, and then burnt. It was covered with a bloody, crusty brownish scab of material that made Emily wince. Eileen irrigated the area with a small amount of saline solution, then wiped it away.
The skin beneath the crusty mess was pink and healthy. Newly healed and unscarred.
“Dear Lord,” Emily breathed. “He’ll heal? He really will heal?”
“Yes, Emily. He’ll be good as new by tomorrow, if I’m any judge. Right, Sam?”
“Good as new, doc. But right now I really need some shut eye. Sorry, Em. Can’t stay awake.”
“It’s a side effect of major healing,” Eileen explained. “Don’t worry. It’s normal.”
“Love you, Em,” Sam whispered as he drifted off to sleep on the gurney, while the doctor continued her work.
Emily let the tears fall. Tears of relief and joy. She was in a daze. He would be all right! Praise God, he would be all right.
Eileen watched her, peering upward every few moments as if checking on her. Finally, she spoke.
“Why don’t you use the restroom there to clean up a bit.” She gestured toward a door at the end of the room with her chin. “We can’t take any chances with decon, so you’ll have to strip off and put your clothes and anything else you’re wearing in a plastic bag. It’ll be returned to you once it’s been through decontamination. There should be scrubs in the bathroom. You should take a shower while you’re at it and scrub your hair and under your fingernails thoroughly.”
Given a task, Emily was grateful to have something to do. Relief rushed through her veins, renewing a little bit of the adrenaline that had kept her going thus far. Emily did as she was told, using a plastic garbage bag she found in the bathroom to wrap up her clothing and shoes before stepping into the shower. The hot water felt good and if she cried happy tears, they meshed with the gentle pelting of rain from the showerhead to disappear down the drain.
When she emerged from the shower, she felt renewed. Sam would heal. Their lives would go on—hopefully together. He’d said he loved her a few times now. He couldn’t take it back. She wouldn’t let him. She wanted to be with him, no matter what that meant. She’d even give up the airline if it meant being with Sam, but that was putting the cart before the horse. First they had to answer to his superiors and Sam needed time to heal.
Everything else could come later…now that she knew there would be time for them to be together. She wasn’t letting him go. Not now, not ever.
Sam was sound asleep when she emerged from the bathroom, dressed in loose scrubs with little booties on her feet. Eileen looked up at her and smiled.
“There’s someone who wants to see you outside. Don’t worry. I’m staying with Sam. He’ll be fine.”
Emily took a good look at Sam. Yes, indeed, he did look a whole lot better than just a few minutes ago. Eileen had cleansed his wounds and many of them were already healed. The angry scratches were mostly gone. Only the deep wounds still required bandages to hold them closed. He had a few of those on his face, along with some burns, but his face was looking much better than it had. The burns were healing. If she hadn’t seen him when it first happened, she wouldn’t have known how bad he’d been hurt. It was truly amazing.
“Get some rest if you can,” Eileen said, breaking her intense reverie. Everything was still a little fantastical to her. “Go. I’ll take good care of him. I promise.”
“Thank you, Eileen.” Emily had to drag herself away from Sam’s side but knew there were people she probably had to talk to after what they’d been through. No doubt there would be reports to file and information to impart. She headed toward the door reluctantly, but made herself go through it, confident that Sam was in good hands.
She hit the button to open the inner door then passed into the air lock area before the doors at the far end opened for her. What she found waiting for her was something totally unexpected.
It was a huge hug from her twin. His arms enveloped her even before she realized what was going on. He tugged her into his arms and lifted her clear off her feet, holding her tight.
“God, punkin, don’t ever worry me like that again.” He kissed her cheek before lowering her to the ground again, his worry clear in the slight tremble in his arms.
“Henry,” she could barely speak, so glad to have him nearby.
“I’m here.” He stroked her hair, soothing her. The shakes hit her bad as she finally released all the worry, tension, and emotion that had stormed through her since being kidnapped from the B&B earlier that night.
A throat cleared behind them and Henry reluctantly let go of her. He turned them both to face the man who stood watching them.
“Emily, I’d like you to meet Commander Sykes.”
The slightly older man held out his hand and Emily shook it. He had striking denim-blue eyes and a friendly smile that he used, no doubt, to try to put her at ease.
“I’d like to talk to you about what happened tonight if you’re up to it, ma’am.”
Emily went with him into a small room that looked like it had been commandeered in a hurry. A mismatched table and chairs had been crammed into what had probably been a break room. Her brother came with her for moral support and doled out coffee for them all from the coffeemaker on the counter behind the chair she’d taken.
“Can you tell me how you ended up at the ranch?” Sykes began, his voice gentle.
“Scott Southerland kidnapped me from the bed-and-breakfast. He tied up the old lady who owned the place. I saw her on the way out the door. He forced me to get into his car at gunpoint and drove me up there.”
“Did he say anything?” Sykes prompted.
“He was ranting about how I shouldn’t have stuck my nose into his business. How I’d almost ruined everything for him. Then he started gloating, saying that I wasn’t as smart as I thought I was. How he was smarter and that he always had been despite the fact that he’d never been able to get his pilot’s license. That was always a bone of contention between us, even as kids. His father always wanted him to earn his wings but Scott never seemed to give a damn one way or the other. When it really counted, he never passed the exams. He nearly had a cow when Shotgun went to the academy.” She looked at her brother and smiled. He nodded, allowing his mouth to lift in a small grin in response.
“What happened to his weapon?” Sykes asked, taking notes.
“It’s in the plastic bag with my clothes. I left the other weapon in there too. Scott’s gun only had three conventional rounds left in the clip. The gun that Sam gave me was empty. I used all the rounds before I took off in the car. But I’m getting ahead of myself.” She took a breath, trying to focus. “When Scott pulled up in front of the house, he held a short conversation with the three men on the balcony. They seemed to be stalling him and it became apparent why when the first zombie showed up. Scott shot wildly and used most of his ammunition. I retrieved the gun from the dirt when Scott went down but I didn’t end up firing any shots from it.”
“That’s when Sam broke cover, right?” Sykes prompted.
“I didn’t see where he came from, but suddenly he was there.”
“I heard the rest. He had his phone on speaker.” Sykes jotted a few notes before returning his gaze to her. “Can you account for what happened to the three on the balcony?”
“Scott shot one, I think. The Asian man. Sam got the other two when we ran for the car. There was a lot of shooting. One guy was shooting darts. The other had a pistol with conventional ammunition and they were both shooting toward us. Sam got them before they could get us. It was self defense.”
“I’m not a cop or a lawyer, ma’am.” Sykes gave her that charming smile of his, though it was edged with steel this time. There was a glint in his eye she recognized. She’d seen it in Sam’s eyes many times over the past few days. “Archer won’t face any repercussions for his actions. Our team was sanctioned directly by the President. Hell, he’ll probably get a medal.”