Mortal: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse (48 page)

“Were you there?” asked Daymon.

“No, I watched it on Nash’s laptop. He went way too quick,”
Cade said, thinking about how Pug had left the world in an entirely different
manner. “Christian didn’t suffer.”

“I’ll tell her he did,” said Daymon.

“You do that.”

There was another long silence, then finally Daymon said,
“I’m handing the phone to the Old Man.”

Duncan snatched up the phone and drawled, “Hey Delta. How’s
it hangin’?”

Cade grimaced and said, “I’m finally free from the Green
Machine.”

“Out of the army ... no shit?”

“Affirmative,” Cade said. “And I have a favor to ask of
you.”

“Shoot,” said Duncan.

“Daymon filled me in on the happenings in your neck of the
woods. I’m truly sorry to hear about your brother.”

There was a long moment of silence on the other end, after
which Duncan said, “I wasn’t supposed to outlive him. It’s not right.”

“I figure I still owe you for the exfil in Hanna. I was
hoping before you went and did anything you’d wait for me ... so that I can get
in on the payback.”

“It’ll take the better part of the day to work up a load out
and transfer fuel from the Bell to the Black Hawk. After that ... God knows how
long to hunt the fuckers down,” conceded Duncan.

Cade looked left and noticed Brook giving him the evil eye.
Ignoring her, he said, “Daymon says you’re pretty close to figuring out where
they’re operating from.”

“Roger that,” replied Duncan. “But close only counts if
you’re talking horseshoes and hand grenades ... not an entire
state-in-the-union.”

“Which state are we talking about?”

“Idaho.”

“Been there, done that,” said Cade, recalling their mad dash
through the outskirts of Boise and then their subsequent flight from the dead
aboard the National Guard UH-60. “It’s a big state. Without me, who’s going to
work the satellite navigation gear for you?”

“You make a good point,” drawled Duncan.

“I’ve still got the GPS coordinates to the compound.” Cade
paused for a beat, then went on, “Will you at least afford me forty-eight hours
to get there before you go on the warpath?”

After another long spell of dead air, during which Cade
could almost feel Brook’s gaze boring into his soul, Duncan finally broke the
silence and said in a funereal voice, “I’ll grant you that ... but I will be
wheels up if you’re one second late. Even if it means I have to take on Bishop
and his boys alone.”

Imagining Duncan doing the same, Cade glanced at his Suunto
and marked the time, then risked a surreptitious glance Brook’s way and noted
that her eyes were closed and her breathing shallow and steady.
Here we go
again
, he thought,
out of the fat and into the fire
. And then,
almost as if someone else was inhabiting his body and working his mouth, he
replied, “Copy that ... forty eight hours. First light I’ll be oscar mike.”

West of the Rockies

Bishop sat bolt upright,
swung his legs off the bed, fumbled on the nightstand in the dark and grabbed
his pistol. Slowly, he expelled the breath he’d been holding, and then listened
hard for any out-of-place noises.

Nothing.

He checked the glowing hands on his Luminox.
0422
.
That the guards hadn’t called set him at ease.
Probably just another
nightmare
, he thought. So he replaced the Sig Sauer on the nightstand.
Grabbed the bottled water sitting there and took a long pull.

Then, from somewhere across the lake, a car horn sounded—two
long, drawn-out bursts of offensive zombie-attention-getting-noise. Unnecessary
and irresponsible.

Forgoing boots, he grabbed his pistol and radio and ran down
the stairs, taking them two at a time. He paused long enough in the kitchen to
grab a pair of the newest generation NVDs from off the granite island and power
them on. While he waited, he thumbed the two-way and ordered the guards at the
gate to investigate. Then he donned the NVDs and padded towards the sliding
glass door leading out to the back of the house and the boathouse and lakeshore
beyond.

But before he could unlock and pull slider the horn sounded
twice again, closely spaced. And just as he was about to locate a rifle with
the ability to reach out and touch the asshole, he noticed headlights across
the lake flashing a familiar pattern, then the sat-phone on the island came
alive, emitting an electronic trill.

He backpedaled, snatched up the phone and looked at the
lighted display, recognizing the number instantly. Then he cast his gaze at the
flashing headlights and what he was seeing dawned on him. Three short. Three
long. Three short.

S.O.S.

Message received.

A smile curled his lip.

Well I’ll be damned, Elvis. You made it.

###

Thanks for reading
Mortal
. Look for Book 7: Warpath,
the forthcoming novel in the
Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse
series in
2014. Please Friend Shawn Chesser on
Facebook
.