Part 25 (1/2)

Lopez didn't elaborate. He and the other soldier, who had introduced himself as Private Carver Duncan, escorted the Angels back to Offutt Air Force Base to meet the commanding officer. They approached the facility after walking south along the river and turning west, which meant that the group had to traverse the entire length of the runway.

Two things struck Natalie. First, the diversity of aircraft lined up on either side of the runway and scattered around the tarmac: Air Force One; Air Force Two; Marine One; several dozen military aircraft, a score of private jets; an Airbus 310 with the palm tree and crossed swords logo of Saudia on the tail. These planes had been left unattended for months. Many had flattened tires, a few had engine cowlings or access doors left open, having been scavenged for parts. All of the aircraft, even Air Force One, had months of soot and grime covering their wings and fuselage. It reminded her of an outdoor air museum where no one maintained the exhibits.

Second, she noticed the lack of activity around the air base. Other than themselves, Natalie saw no one else. With so many aircraft crowded onto the field, she figured there would at least be maintenance personnel servicing them. She reasoned that the lack of crews explained the poor condition of the aircraft. Only when they reached the far end of the runway did she see a lone figure in a leather jacket. He walked around a C-130 military transport that stood separate from the other aircraft and sat between two hangers set fifteen hundred feet from the runway.

Lopez headed for the C-130 and led the group toward a two-story building on the opposite side of the twin hangers. A sign on the building read HOTEL AIR FORCE. The corporal entered and made his way to the dining room.

”Hey, Lieutenant. We got company.”

A young woman in green Air Force cammies emerged from the kitchen. Natalie guessed her to be no more than thirty. She had the pet.i.te body of someone in their late twenties, with a haggard appearance that made her look years older. Her red hair, which hung down to her shoulders and had not been trimmed in months, contained streaks of white. Furrows ran across her forehead, and black circles highlighted her glazed eyes. She showed no expression upon leaving the kitchen until she saw the a.s.sault rifles slung over the Angels' shoulders. Then she turned on Lopez.

”Why the f.u.c.k are they still armed?”

”It's okay, Lieutenant,” Lopez defended himself. ”They're friendly.”

”Not that it matters anymore.” The woman's defiance evaporated with an exasperated shrug. She approached Natalie, extending her hand. ”I'm Lieutenant Jane Pandelosi, United States Air Force. I'm in command of what's left here.”

”Natalie Bazargan.” She gave the hand a single pump. ”We have the vaccine Dr. Compton prepared against the Zombie Virus. We're here to pa.s.s it to the President.”

The lieutenant sighed. ”You wasted your time, lady.”

”Why's that?”

”Revenants overran the President's bunker thirty hours ago.”

After dropping that bombsh.e.l.l, Pandelosi refused to explain until they had breakfast. Although Natalie had been stunned by the lieutenant's indifference, she withheld asking any questions until the appropriate moment. The Angels followed the lieutenant through the chow line, grabbing trays and getting themselves a hot meal.

Besides Pandelosi, Lopez, and Duncan, three others joined them for breakfast-Privates Curtis Harrington and Michael Kim, and Sergeant Ray ”Sarge” Batchelder. Natalie waited until everyone had started eating before broaching the topic.

”Is this all your people?”

”For the most part,” Pandelosi replied. ”I have three people north of the base in case anyone staggers south from the bunker.”

”And The Butcher,” added Harrington.

”Knock that s.h.i.+t off, soldier,” ordered Pandelosi. ”Mouth off like that again and you'll do guard duty up north.”

”Yes, ma'am.”

Lopez leaned closer to Natalie. ”They're referring to Captain Everett, the pilot of the C-130. You saw him on the way in earlier.”

”Isn't he joining us?” asked Ari.

Pandelosi shook her head. ”He avoids us because most of my people can't stand him.”

”Because he's a butcher,” said Harrington under his breath.

Pandelosi cast the private a withering stare, and then went on to explain. ”When the outbreak first occurred, Captain Everett flew an AC-130 Specter to run strafing missions against revenants in Illinois. They're armed with a 105mm Howitzer, a 40mm Bofors gun, and a .30 caliber chain gun. On his last mission outside of Chicago, to stop a swarm of revenants from escaping the city, the fire control team aboard opened up on a bridge that contained several hundred civilians trying to flee the horde. It only slowed down the dead and killed off most of the survivors. Everett jockeyed the s.h.i.+p; the fire control team did the killing. That didn't matter, though. The media placed the blame for the ma.s.sacre on his shoulder and gave him the nickname The Butcher. He has never lived it down, nor has he forgiven himself. That's why he never eats with us. It's also why he refused to take command of this base when the President downsized it.”

”It's not a very large command,” said Emily. ”No offense.”

”Not now. After the outbreak, the military expanded our ranks to five hundred people under a major general. We're the closest air base to the bunker where the government-in-exile was established. Those first few weeks, everyone in Was.h.i.+ngton who had survived the outbreak made their way here, mostly by plane. The Vice President and some others had been ordered to Colorado Springs to set up a shadow government in case something happened here. We lost contact with them after five weeks. No one knows what happened.”

”And n.o.body around here gave a s.h.i.+t,” added Sarge.

”That's harsh,” said Natalie.

”It's true.” Pandelosi vented a lot of frustration in that response. ”We had a lot of good men and women here, people with their own loved ones they were concerned about, who stayed put to keep this air base open so we could ensure continuity of government. Our elected officials, however, were more concerned with saving their own a.s.ses. Over a thousand people landed at this airport, and half of them weren't even government officials. I watched staffers, lobbyists, Hollywood celebrities, CEOs, media personalities, and a whole host of non-essential personnel fly into here before heading north. There are even twenty-five members of the Saudi royal family up there.

”About a month after the outbreak, when everybody was who going to make it out alive had already arrived, the President downsized Offutt to just under one hundred people. That's when I took command. The rest were sent east to battle the revenants along the Mississippi. There wasn't much for us to do after that. We got a hundred or so survivors coming through here, fed them, and sent them on their way.”

”Why?” asked Natalie.

”Officially they're 'a drain on resources'.” Pandelosi grimaced at the words.

The Angels did not fully understand.

”Did you notice Omaha is deserted?” Sarge asked. ”That's because, under orders of the President, the governor declared martial law and evacuated everyone from the city. The President wanted to avoid any local infestations that could threaten the bunker. Tens, maybe hundreds of thousands of innocent people died because they were forced out of their homes and sent south. Not that it did any good in the long run.”

”What happened?”

”In the bunker?” Pandelosi shrugged. ”Who knows? The rules on containment security were supposed to be very strict. Everyone who landed here was supposed to undergo a complete physical before being allowed to proceed up north, and if you had a wound of any kind, then you had to undergo a forty-eight-hour quarantine.”

”I a.s.sume those rules weren't adhered to?” Emily asked.

”Staffers, military personnel, and family members obeyed them. The princ.i.p.als and Congressmen refused to submit to such an indignity, and the President waived the rules for them, and for most of the other special guests.”

”Is that how the infection reached the bunker?” This time Natalie asked the question.

”We don't know.” Pandelosi stared down at the table and swallowed hard. When she didn't speak after several seconds, Sarge picked up the conversation.

”The lieutenant had a good friend in the bunker's radio room who she used to chat with every day. They exchanged gossip on what was going on inside and out here in the real world. Two days ago, he contacted us to say an outbreak had taken place inside the bunker, and that they were trying to contain it. Seven hours later, he called back to say they had been overrun, that almost everyone had been infected, and that he and the few survivors left would try and make their way to Offutt. That was the last anyone heard from them.”

”I'm sorry,” said Natalie. ”Did your friend make it?”

”No.” Pandelosi raised her head. Tears filled her eyes. ”And he was my fiance.”

An awkward silence fell over the group.

”I ordered everyone here to get out while they could,” Pandelosi resumed after composing herself. ”We agreed to stay behind for a few days in case anyone made it out of the bunker alive and managed to get this far south. We're flying out first thing tomorrow morning, which is why it's good you showed up when you did. You're welcome to go with us, if you want.”