Patient Zero

Chapter One Hundred Sixteen

The Liberty Bell Center / Saturday, July 4; 12:12 P.M.

THERE WAS NO time to think. I put a shot into the head of the agent and spun on my heel before he flopped back against the ground, sprinting in the direction of the scream. That wasn’t the hunting-cat screech of a walker-it was filled with very human terror. I just hoped it wasn’t her last scream.

Screw caution-I ran. I tore through room after room. Twice white-faced figures lunged at me out of the shadows and each time I put them down with single shots without breaking stride. I could still hear voices behind. Top and Skip calling my name. They were smart enough to follow the trail of bodies.

The First Lady screamed again, just ahead, on the other side of a closed door.

I hit the door with a jumping kick that tore it off its hinges. The door crashed onto a walker and crushed him underneath. I leaped into the room, taking in the scene as I landed in a combat crouch.

The First Lady was huddled in the corner of an office cubicle. Her Secret Service detail had been slaughtered. Only one agent remained and there was a crowd of seven walkers trying to bring him down. The agent was bleeding from half a dozen bites and his face was white with pain and panic. Two of the walkers were the last remaining agents; the rest were employees of the Liberty Bell Center. No sign of Ollie or O’Brien.

I opened fire and took one of the walkers in the back of the neck. He crashed forward and dragged down two others as he fell.

“Help!” the First Lady screamed. “Oh God, please help us!”

The nearest walkers had turned toward me at the sound of my shot and they rushed me. I shot one but then there was a blast from behind me and the walker to my right pitched back with a gaping hole in his temple.

“On your six!” I heard Top growl and then he and Skip were rushing the group of walkers from either flank. Top used double taps each time, stalling them with a chest shot and then putting one through the brain. Skip’s shots were more random and he hit walkers over and over again in the body, wasting shots.

“Head shots, goddamn it!” Top yelled at him and blew away a walker that was rushing at Skip from his left.

The remaining Secret Service agent fired his last shot, a wild blast that nearly hit Top, and then the last walker tackled him so that they fell into the cubicle, crashing down at the First Lady’s feet. She screamed but then she snatched a laptop off the desk and used it to beat in the back of the walker’s head. None of us could take a shot because she was so close, and she laid into the monster with a will, her fear becoming fury. The walker shivered and collapsed into a terminal stillness. Beneath him the agent groaned and reached out an imploring hand to her.

“Roger!” she said and reached for him.

“No!” I yelled and darted forward to slap her hand away. “Don’t! He’s infected.”

Around us the room became unnaturally still as the gunshot echoes faded. The only sound was a painful wheeze from Roger, the wounded agent.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said, struggling to get the words out.

The First Lady looked at me. “Help him, for God’s sake!”

I stepped between her and Roger, then squatted down and offered him my left hand. He closed his hand around it with ferocious desperation as if it was a lifeline that could pull him up from hell. “Listen to me,” I said gently. “Your name’s Roger?”

“Agent Roger Jefferson.”

“I’m Joe Ledger. Listen, Roger there’s been an outbreak. A plague. You understand? From the Freedom Bell.”

He nodded. His breathing was getting worse.

“That’s what happened to your men. One or more of them must have been exposed. It changes people.”

He nodded again. “I saw. Barney Linus all of them. God ”

“I’m sorry, man.”

“Is is she ” He turned his head, looking for the First Lady, but I don’t think he could see her anymore.

The First Lady put a hand on my shoulder and leaned over. “Roger. I’m right here.”

“Are are you all ”

“I’m fine, Roger. You didn’t let them get me.”

Roger smiled and his eyes drifted shut, but his grip was still strong. He whispered something that I had to bend close to hear.

“Cap’n,” warned Top.

Roger said, “I saw how it works.” Blood seeped from the corners of his mouth. “You do what you have to do.”

“I will,” I promised. “Rest easy, Roger. You saved the First Lady.”

With his last strength he gave me a trembling smile. “All part of the job.” He tried to laugh but there was not enough left of him and he settled back.

“Get her out of here,” I said to Top. “Do it now.”

“What do you mean?” she protested as Top closed in. “We can’t just leave him here.”

“Ma’am,” Top said, “you saw what happens. Let the captain do what he has to do. It’s the best thing it’s best for Roger.”

“Top get her out now!”

The First Lady straightened her back and though tears flowed down her face she walked away with great dignity. I hadn’t voted for her husband, but I sure as hell admired her.

When they were out of the room I disengaged my hand from Roger’s slack grip. I reached over and took a cushion off the nearest chair and put it over his face. I was counting seconds. I felt the first twitch in less than forty seconds since his last breath and I put the barrel of my gun against the pad and fired. Maybe it was because the pad would muffle the shot and make it easier for the First Lady, or maybe it was because it would cover his face and grant him a slice of dignity. Or maybe it was that I couldn’t bear to see another good man become one of those things. Probably all three.

I stood up and looked at Skip. The young sailor wouldn’t meet my eyes. He just turned away and I followed him out of the cubicle and into the next room. The First Lady was sitting on a leather office chair and Top had brought her a cup of water from a nearby cooler. She sipped it and when she saw me she just stared at me, her expression un-readable.

The office was big and looked to be the graphic arts department for the center, with worktables, advertising sketches pinned to the walls, and machines for printing posters. Two offices led off from the main room, both with doors that stood ajar. I had just opened my mouth to order Skip to check them out when two figures stepped out of the shadows of the left-hand office. They came in quick and they had guns in their hands.

Ollie Brown and Special Agent Michael O’Brien.