6:00 AM E.S.T./3:00 AM P.S.T.

Sprawled on the pavement, wrapped in the warm darkness, Austin felt

absolutely nothing. He looked at her body lying there, so quiet, the
blood still running from the back of her head. The soldier who had shot
her lowered the M16 and looked at the boy. Their eyes connected, and
Austin leapt to his feet. He rushed after the soldier, screaming, “She
was all I had left! You killed my only fucking family!” Two soldiers
intercepted him, grabbed him by the arms, pulled him back. His eyes
filled with tears as he kicked at the ground, the soldier who had shot
her just looking at him, his own eyes filled with compassion. ”I hope
you get bitten and die you rotten fuck!” Austin screamed. The soldiers
threw him down next to Holcomb and Hannah, who stood under the
wing of the plane. He collapsed at their feet and his head rested
against the fuselage, and he wept. Ruthless, bitter, lung-wrenching
tears.
“Get dressed,” the corporal said.
Hannah and Holcomb quickly dressed. Holcomb helped Austin into
his clothes.
“Come with us,” the corporal said.
Hannah took one of Austin’s arms and Holcomb took the other.
They helped him to his feet. His legs barely moved as they half-
dragged, half-accompanied him as they walked behind the soldiers.
They walked past the floodlights and into a rundown hangar. A dusty
crop-duster sat dressed in shrouds. Dozens of refugees were huddled
against the wall. The soldiers led the three of them to the refugees and
then left back out to the airfield. More soldiers stood watch in the
hangar’s darkness, broken only by flashlights nestled amidst the
shrouds of the crop-duster.
Hannah held the boy in the darkness. The tears kept coming, his
body violently shaking. This was worse than Ashlie being bitten, worse
than Ashlie being killed by an infected. Being slaughtered by an animal
was better than being shot by a fucking soldier. Austin let her hold him
but he barely even noticed. He kept seeing Ashlie’s pleading eyes, kept
hearing the gunshot, kept seeing the blood gurgling from the hole in
the back of her head. He wanted nothing more than to steal that
soldier’s gun and to shoot him again and again, riddling his body with
bullets until it was nothing more than a ragged piece of bloodied,
chiseled flesh.
Moments later the corporal reappeared in the hangar, demanding
everyone’s attention. “We’re going to load everyone up into one of our
helicopters and fly you out to another airport. McCabe Ranch. There
you will receive medical attention if you need it. From McCabe, anyone
not being treated will be sent to San Francisco International. From San
Francisco International, you will be shipped to one of the many refugee
camps in the city. Currently these refugee camps are entirely safe.
There will be food, water, and beds. Your internment at these refugee
camps will last for an indefinite period of time. Do not expect to stay
there forever, though. Currently the military is quarantining and
barricading various small towns up and down the western coast. All
refugees will be sent to these towns. But right now, we need to get you
on the helicopter. All right. Come on.”
He stopped speaking and several soldiers appeared with
flashlights, beckoning everyone out of the hangar.
“Let’s go,” Hannah said.
Austin wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I don’t want to go.”
“I know. But we have to go. Come on.”
He refused to move, pulling away from her. “Ashlie’s still here.”
“There’s nothing you can do about that. But she wouldn’t you
being like this.”
“Well she can’t do a damn thing about it, can she?”
Holcomb grabbed his arm. “Austin. Listen to Hannah. We need to
go.”
Most of the refugees had left the hangar.
The corporal walked over to them. “The next helicopter flies out in
an hour. I’d recommend taking this flight.”
Hannah said, “We are. He just needs some time.”
“I understand. But we’re not going to hold up the helicopter.”
Austin took a deep breath. “Hannah? You guys go ahead without
me.”
“Austin…”
“I’ll meet up with you at McCabe.”
“Austin…”
The soldier said, “Make up your minds. You have ten seconds.”
Holcomb cursed. “Let him do what he wants. I’m not going to sit on
my ass.”
Hannah looked out the hangar doors, at the Chinook resplendent
with lights. The blades whirring. The ramp at the rear was lowered,
soldiers filing refugees into the cargo hold. “I’m sorry, Austin,” she
said, “but I need to go.” And she hugged him tightly. “Please forgive
me.” She let him go and turned and went with Holcomb out of the
hangar, leaving the boy alone with the corporal.
“I recommend you come,” the corporal said.
“I want to stay here,” he said. “Bury my sister.”
“It’s pointless…”
“Just leave me alone,” Austin said, not looking at him.
“Okay. Fine.” The corporal turned and left the hangar.
Austin stood alone in the darkness with the crop-duster behind
him.

Standing there alone, he didn’t think of Ashlie. He thought of Hannah.

She had lost everything. She had lost her family. She had watched her
brother become one of them. And she had stuck by him, hadn’t let the
death of her brother slow her down. She had operated selflessly. She
had been beside him through it all. And he thought of her, and he
thought of himself. She hadn’t abandoned him. But he was abandoning
her. The selfish jackass he’d always promised himself he would never
be. He cursed and ran forward, out of the hangar. The corporal stepped
aside and Austin ran up the ramp into the cargo hold of the Chinook.
Most of the seats along the sides and along the center of the hold were
open. He spotted Holcomb and Hannah strapping in and ran over and
sat down beside her. She sighed and hugged him and said she was glad
he was coming, and then he buckled up and the ramp was drawn up.
The windows were high up on the walls so he couldn’t see outside, but
he felt the helicopter rising and knew they had taken off. He heard
muffled conversations, some crying, and he rubbed his teary bloodshot
eyes and stared forward into the darkness, listening to the throbbing of
the motors and the creaks and groans of the helicopter as it flew south
into the night.

He had begun drifting off to sleep, exhausted by the emotional trauma,

when he found himself jolted back to reality as screams flooded the
dark interior of the hold. Blood-curdling, ruthless screams. Everyone
went quiet, the screams coming from the back of the hold. A moment
later the interior lights turned on, and then there came more
screaming. Austin leaned forward against the straps to see a young
woman, maybe 24 or 30, writhing about in her seat, held back by
straps. Her flesh had gone purple and her eyes had sunken and she
foamed at the mouth, snarling and hissing. Everyone next to her had
gotten up and rushed to the other side of the cargo hold. One of the
soldiers in the front of the plane came from the cockpit, swore, and
shouted for help. Another soldier joined him and they went to the rear
of the plane, demanding to know how the hell an infected had gotten
onboard. No one knew who she was.
The soldier said, “How the fuck did she pass the inspection?”
His companion said, “Maybe she got bitten somewhere we didn’t
check.”
“We stripped them down completely naked. We couldn’t have
missed it.”
“I can think of one place we didn’t check. At least on the women.”
“What?” He then understood. “Fuck. That’s disgusting.”
“That’s the only explanation.”
“How the hell would she get bitten down there?”
“How the hell should I know? Maybe her lover turned when he was
eating her out.”
“God. Well. Fucking shoot her.”
The soldier pulled out his sidearm and stepped back, raised the
gun.
“You idiot!” the other yelled, knocking his hand down. “You could
shoot the wall.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“Like this.” He took the gun and stood up on the seat beside her
and pressed the barrel down into the top of her head and pulled the
trigger. The gunshot echoed off the walls and her head fell forward.
Blood crawled down her mouth, mixing with the foam and splattering
onto her pants. The soldier stepped down and handed the gun back.
“Now the bullet’s lodged somewhere inside her body. And not in the
wall of the helicopter. We have to keep these things clean.”
“What do we do with the body?”
“I don’t know. We’ll let the soldiers at McCabe know about it.”
“They’ll force everyone to strip down. Check again.”
“That’s fine.”
“Including us.”
A pause. “Shit. I don’t want to be naked before all of them.”
“It’s procedure.”
“Fuck procedure.” He shouted, “Everyone strap in!”
Everyone did. He went to the front of the plane and returned.
“Steady, now.”
The ramp began to lower. It lowered halfway and then stopped.
Violent wind blew into the cargo hold. The soldiers remained steady as
they unstrapped the corpse, and they carried her to the ramp and set
her body down. Her clothes whipped back and forth in the wind. The
ramp lowered some more, and then her body rolled down the ramp and
off the side, spiraling far below, where she would land amidst the trees,
forever forgotten. The ramp was raised and the soldiers made their way
back to the front.
Hannah said, “Excuse me?”
The soldier who had shut her looked at her. “What?”
“What was her name?”
“Huh?”
“Her name? The woman’s name?”
“How in the hell should I know? It doesn’t matter.”
And he turned and went back to the cockpit.
The lights were extinguished.
Everyone sat quietly in the darkness. No one said a word.
Austin woke from a deep and dreamless sleep when he heard the
loudspeakers announce: “Ladies and Gentlemen, we are five minutes
inbound to McCabe Ranch. Make sure you are fastened into your seats
for our landing. Once we land, you will be escorted out of the
helicopter. If you need medical attention, you will receive it. Everyone
else will be loaded onto another refueled helicopter and sent to San
Francisco International. Thank you for your time,” the pilot mused,
“and we hope you enjoyed the flight.”
Austin looked over at Hannah. “Now we can take care of that arm.”
She was quiet.
“Hannah?”
“They said everyone not needing medical attention will be put on
another chopper.”
“Yeah?”
“That means we’ll be separated.”
“What? No. Look.” He pointed to his forehead. “I have a nasty cut
as well.”
“What about the janitor? He’s totally fine.”
He looked past her to Holcomb, who slept quietly.
“It’ll be all right. Even if it’s just us… We’ll be all right.”
“Okay.”
“I promised you I wouldn’t leave you. Remember? Back at the
YMCA?”
“You almost left me back at the other airport.”
“I know. But I didn’t.”
“I would’ve understood.”
“Let’s not talk about that right now, okay?”
“Okay.”
Five minutes came. Then ten. Everyone expected to land, but the
landing never came. It felt as if the helicopter was going in circles.
Then the pilot turned on the loudspeaker: “Ladies and Gentlemen, we
have encountered a problem. It seems McCabe Ranch is no longer
functional. We’re being diverted to another airstrip twenty-three miles
away. Sorry for the inconvenience. If you must make changes to your
plans, feel free to do so once we land.” And the intercom went silent.
“What do you think he meant?” Hannah said. “No longer
functional?”
“I don’t know,” Austin said.
“Do you think he meant they’re out of helicopters? Or ran out of
supplies?”
“No,” he said, un-strapping. “I don’t think so.”
“Where are you going?”
“Just to look.”
One of the windows rested directly overhead. He stood on the seat
and looked out. He saw nothing but blackness. He felt the helicopter
banking, and he grabbed onto the dangling rope netting on the wall to
hold on. He pressed his face against the window, and as the helicopter
turned, he saw the airfield come into view. It seemed relatively quiet.
Chinooks parked beside the airfield. Various private planes in the
grass. Burning barrels of oil along the runways, floodlights. It didn’t
make sense. He kept looking, and then he saw several people walk in
front of one of the floodlights. Except they were hunched over, moving
awkwardly. He looked away and saw several more hunched over
something on the ground. One of them stood, and in its hands was a
human arm, the torn flesh spitting blood. All he could see were the
distant figures, maybe five hundred feet below, looking like ants, dark
silhouettes against the light. And then the helicopter turned again and
the airfield was out of view. Nothing but the blackness wrapping
around the trees. The sun still refusing to rise.
He sat back down and buckled up.
“What was it?” Hannah asked.
“You know,” he said.
She nodded.

He thought she had fallen asleep. But she hadn’t.

“Do you remember when we kissed?” she asked.
He looked over at her in the darkness.
He remembered every minute detail. “Vaguely, he lied.”
 “It was just… I was hurting so badly. And I knew you cared. You
know? And I didn’t know I was going to kiss you. It just felt… right. And
it was stupid of me. It really was. But not because of you. It was stupid
because of me. Because even though I knew that you cared, that you
really… valued me… as a person… Even though I knew that, I didn’t
want to be with you. But I wanted what you were willing to give me
even if it meant that I had to be a bitch about it. It was stupid because I
was selfish.”
“It’s okay,” he said, not knowing what to say.
“No,” she said. “It’s not okay. I used you. I used your care for me,
your affections for me. I used you to feel better in that moment.”
“We all do that when we’re hurting,” he said, trying to be
compassionate; at the same time, he bridled his tongue. She had been
a bitch. She had used him. And in some way, he still cared. It still
angered him, frustrated him, saddened him.
“My aunt always told me,” she said, “that I need to find someone
who really cares about me. And I always told her that I knew that. And
you cared, but I wouldn’t take it. And then there was Hal. The football
player. He asked me out on a date. I knew he didn’t care. But I went
anyways. And he tried to mess around with me in the theater, kept
sticking his fingers down the hem of my pants. And I hated it. And I
didn’t let him. And he asked me if I wanted to go to Prom with him, and
I said yes.” She bit her lip. “I said yes, Austin. And I knew he would just
try to sleep with me. And maybe I would’ve let him. It’s fucked up. It’s
all fucked up.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I know.”
“My aunt, she was right. I needed someone who really cared about
me. And there you were. The one guy who really, genuinely cared about
me. But you weren’t popular. People didn’t like you. And they would
joke around about you, and I would laugh, and Austin, I’m so sorry. I
feel awful about it. Because they were just a bunch of jackasses and
douche-bags. And I was a bitch.”
“You weren’t a bitch,” he lied.
“In high school, it’s not about chemistry. It’s not about finding
someone who you can trust and care about and love. It’s about finding
someone who will make you feel good sexually. It’s about finding
someone who will make you more popular. It’s about finding someone
you can carry around on your arm to make yourself look cooler. It’s
fucked up.”
“It is fucked up.”
 “And if I would’ve taken Hal to the Prom, I probably would’ve slept
with him. And you know what I would’ve been to him? Just another
lousy fuck.”

He didn’t know what to say. She went quiet and sat in her seat just
staring forward. He wondered if she was crying but couldn’t tell in the
darkness if tears were inching their way down her cheeks.
“You’re not a bitch,” he said.
After a moment, “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“No. You’re not a bitch, Hannah. And, yes, you did use me. And you
hurt me. But you’re still not a bitch.”
“Whatever.”
“Hannah…”
“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
“Okay,” he said.

She broke the silence. “Do you remember when you asked me out two
years ago?”
“Yeah,” he said. A slight chuckle. “I broke out the non-alcoholic
wine.”
“It was sparkling grape juice,” she said.
“Yeah. It was classy.”
“It was sweet,” she said.
“Sweet? It was pathetic.”
“Do you remember what I said?”
“Yeah. I remember. You said I’d have to lose weight and get rid of
my acne.”
“No. Not that.”
“I remember that.”
“I know. Me being a bitch again.”
“Hannah…”
“You remember when I told you we’d have to date in secret?”
“Yeah. I remember that, too.”
“I wanted to be with you. I just didn’t want… the social stigma.”
“Okay.”
“It’s awful, I know.”
“Yeah,” he said, this time caving. “That was pretty awful.”
“I was a bitch.”
“That time, yes. Yes, you were.”
“But I wonder… What would’ve happened if we would’ve dated?”
“I don’t know. That was two years ago.”
 “Do you think we would’ve made it?”
“Hannah. Since this happened… I don’t know.”
“I think we would’ve made it.”
He was quiet for a while. He wanted to hold her hand, to feel her
fingers quivering in his. Not an awkward, what-the-hell-is-he-doing?
quivering, but an anticipation-of-the-moment quivering. But he decided
not to.
“Maybe we can still make it,” he said.
She said nothing.

He was about to say something to her, excusing his last comment—a

cowardly maneuver—when the pilot came on over the radio. “Ladies
and Gentlemen, I am bringing it to your attention that we are running
out of fuel and will be unable to make it to the Dolls-Hamlet Ranch.
We’re going to be doing an emergency landing within the next ten
minutes. We’ve already contacted San Francisco International, and the
National Guard is sending another helicopter our way. It’ll be about a
fifty-minute wait. Please fasten your seatbelts and enjoy the landing.”
Holcomb had wakened. “We couldn’t make it to McCabe?”
“No,” Austin said. “McCabe was overrun. We were going to another
airport but apparently they’ve run out of fuel.”
“Looks like my luck follows me wherever I go.”
“We’re going to be making an emergency landing.”
“Yeah. I heard.”
“Are you buckled up?”
“Yeah. Are you?”
He plucked at his strap. “Yeah.”
Hannah bit her lip. “Where do you think we’re landing?”
“I don’t know.”
“What if there are infected outside?”
“They can’t get in.”
“How do you know?”
He didn’t know. “Hannah. It’ll be fine. We’re in the middle of
nowhere.”

Moments later they felt the helicopter descending, and then the
descent stopped. They hadn’t even felt the helicopter land. Austin
undid his belt and stood on his seat and looked out the window. In the
lights from the helicopter he could see blades of grass being thrown
down by the wind from the propellers. He wagered they landed in a
field. The propellers slowly spun to a stop and the grass began to curl
back upwards. The darkness cloaked everything so he couldn’t see
beyond the field. He sat back down. Hannah asked where they were.
“We’re in a field somewhere,” he said.