“That’s what’s troubling me,” TL Lafferty says. “Not like you Runners to let us get ambushed like that. No warning marks at any of the intersections or on any of the buildings.”

  “Like I said, they’re just popping up,” Carlyle explains. “They are coming and going. It’s impossible to track them. Just when I think one has formed, it splits up and turns back into random groups.”

  “Herds happen,” Marshall says. The Team all looks his way and he shrugs, as if he knows he’s the center of attention.

  Val grips TL Lafferty’s elbow. “Please, TL. Just give me five.”

  TL Lafferty looks at the rest of the Team as they toss their packs onto the ground and begin the process of field stripping and cleaning their weapons. “Fine. Five minutes.”

  They step out of the room and onto the landing overlooking several flights of stairs.

  TL Lafferty looks down into the darkness below and rolls her neck. The cracking echoes up and down the stairwell. She looks back at Val and raises her eyebrows. Val reaches over and closes the door to the room.

  “Don’t cut that kid loose,” Val says. “He’s full of shit.”

  TL Lafferty’s eyebrow raise changes from irritation to legitimate surprise.

  “Not what I was expecting you to say,” she replies. “Go on.”

  “You know I had a brother, right?” Val asks.

  “My condolences,” TL Lafferty nods. “His death was rough on everyone, especially your… well, you know. Every person counts.”

  “We always remember,” Val responds. “Thank you. But this isn’t about how my brother died. This is about how he lived. He was born blind, probably due to radiation exposure my mother suffered during the shutdown missions of the nuclear reactors south of here.”

  “Yes, yes, there were many unfortunate side effects of those missions,” TL Lafferty says, looking slightly uncomfortable with the conversation. “But all for the greater good.”

  “Cut the propaganda, TL,” Val snaps. “You need to listen to me.” TL Lafferty starts to get angry and respond, but Val cuts her off. “The kid didn’t just have his eyes plucked out. He’s been blind a while.”

  “You did see the scabs, right? Those are only days old,” TL Lafferty says. “I am seriously reconsidering your fit in this Team, Baptiste.”

  “They look fresh, yes,” Val explains. “But he didn’t lose his eyes recently. He moves and acts like someone who has been blind a long time. Maybe since birth. I don’t know, but I’ll swear those wounds aren’t as new as they look.”

  TL Lafferty studies Val’s face for a full minute. “He’s just a boy,” TL Lafferty says. “So, he’s got something to hide. Most survies do. They are scared and they don’t know who we are or what we’ll do to them. It can take months, sometimes years, for new refugees to relax into Stronghold life. You expect a thirteen-year-old boy to be any different?”

  “On the graves of my family, I swear that kid is not telling us who he really is or why he’s really here,” Val snaps.

  “Disrespecting the dead?” TL Lafferty growls. “That is behavior unbecoming a Mate, Baptiste. I should remove you from duty this second and send you packing.”

  “I’m not disrespecting anyone,” Val says. “Let me tell you a story, okay? About my brother. If at the end you still don’t believe me, then I’ll shut the fuck up and never say another word. Deal?”

  Val spits in her palm and holds out her hand.

  “A spit shake?” TL Lafferty asks, amused. “You trying to sell me a story or a sick goat?”

  “I’m trying to get you to listen,” Val replies.

  TL Lafferty looks at Val’s hand, then spits in her own and shakes. They wipe their palms on their chests and nod to each other.

  “Talk,” TL Lafferty orders. “And no tangents. Get to the fucking point so I can go in there, give orders, and take a load off.”

  “My brother was four years older than me,” Val says. “I loved him so much and looked up to him, but because he was blind our parents always doted on him. I felt like I wasn’t even there sometimes.” Val rubs her face and sighs. “One day, when my dad was in the back tending to the garden and Mom was out on patrol, John and I started to argue. I was maybe five, so he’d have been nine. It was over something stupid, I honestly don’t remember, but I got so mad that I picked up a mug and threw it at him.”

  Val smiles at the memory.

  “As soon as the mug left my hand, I wished I could take it back,” Val says. “I was so sorry. But it didn’t matter. The mug didn’t hit him.”

  “You were five,” TL Lafferty laughs. “I doubt you could have hit the side of your house.”

  Val frowns. “I’m a Baptiste, sir. I could hit a fly at ten yards when I was three.”

  TL Lafferty begins to reply but just nods instead, indicating for Val to continue.

  “I didn’t miss,” Val says. “It didn’t hit him because my blind brother caught the fucking thing. To say we were both surprised would be an understatement.”

  “What did you parents say?” TL Lafferty asks. “No, wait, let me guess, you didn’t tell them?”

  “No way,” Val says. “First, we would have gotten in trouble for fighting. Second, it became our secret, our game. I’d throw things at him, and he’d either catch them or dodge them or bat them away. No matter what, he never got hit. Not once.” Val points at the closed door. “That kid acts and moves like my brother. He’s been blind for a long time.”

  TL Lafferty leans back against the wall, suddenly looking her age. “Then explain why the wounds look fresh. Because those scabs and cut marks around his eyes didn’t happen when he was born.”

  “I don’t know,” Val replies. “I just know he’s full of shit.”

  “Noted,” TL Lafferty nods. “But he’s still a kid and we’re not. Let me feel this out. And don’t mention this to any of the other Mates, understood? We have a mission to complete. We’ll send the kid back to the Stronghold with a Runner. Command can deal with him. That sit right with you, Baptiste?”

  “Yes, sir,” Val replies. “I could be totally wrong on this, but I don’t think I am.”

  “Don’t second-guess yourself, Mate,” TL Lafferty says. “You could be wrong, but those on DTA rarely are. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Val nods as TL Lafferty opens the door.

  “Now strip your weapon and get some sleep,” TL Lafferty orders. “You’re on second watch.”

  They walk back into the room and everyone gives them a cursory glance, except for Marshall. He turns his head toward Val and smiles. She shivers at the way he “looks” at her.

  Second shift comes quickly, and Val feels like she barely closed her eyes when there’s a boot nudging her leg. She’s up with her M-4 in hand before she has both eyes open.

  “Keep an eye on the west,” Alastair says. “Junior thinks he heard something. I didn’t, but be aware.”

  “Eyes on the west,” Val nods. “Who’s my partner?”

  Alastair gestures over his shoulder at a waiting Bobby.

  “You get Mr. Shy,” Alastair says, giving the others a knowing look. “Don’t break him.”

  “Don’t what…?” Val asks. “Oh, ha ha, cocksucker.”

  Val lifts her pack and straps it down tight, then pushes past a grinning Alastair.

  “He tell you about the west?” Bobby asks as they descend the stairs.

  “Yeah,” Val says. “Should we head that way?”

  “At night?” Bobby asks. “No, we’ll just keep our ears open. No need to go further than the commons.”

  “Have fun, you two,” Tiny D says as she unbolts and unbars the door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  They get outside and circle slowly around to the front of the administration building. Far above them is the Bell Tower with a faint, flickering light coming from the very top. They work their way through the shadows, keeping to the edge of the wide, overgrown area that used to be the main commons for the former university.

  “What’s up with everyone?” Val asks. “They seem to think I’m going to fuck you. Any insight into that?”

  “Nope,” Bobby says quickly.

  “Right,” Val whispers. “They’re just messing with the rookie, is that it?”

  “Probably,” Bobby says.

  Val stops and grabs his arm. “Talk, Breitenberg,” Val orders. “What is going on?”

  “Nothing,” Bobby says. “They just like to stir shit up. You know how Teams are.”

  “So you don’t want to fuck me?” Val asks. “Don’t want to rip my uniform off and just go for it right here? Have me straddle your hips while you pound your hard cock inside me?”

  Bobby stands there, his mouth open, stunned. “I… uh…”

  Val gives him a pat on his cheek. “That’s what I thought. Listen, Bobby, I’ve caught you looking at me at parties and around town. I’m not a fucking idiot. But I have a guy. We’re happy, okay?”

  “Hamish?” Bobby snorts. “He’s afraid of his own shadow. Why would a Mate be with a weak-ass normal like that?”

  Val’s hand meets Bobby’s cheek again, but it’s not nearly as soft as before.

  “Hamish is a good man and he makes me happy,” Val says. “And he’s a fucking professional. He knows where work and personal lines are. Something you apparently can’t comprehend.”

  Val shakes her head and starts to walk off.

  “Fuck this, man! We’re Mates, for fuck’s sake! I don’t need you dick whimpering around me, got it? This is work, Bobby. It stays work. And even if it wasn’t, I’d still be with Hamish. Give it up, grow the fuck up, and deal. We be cool?”

  “We be cool,” Bobby says, holding out a fist. “And for the record, I didn’t bring it up. You did. I’d have stayed silent forever.”

  “Until your blue balls exploded,” Val says. “Then you’d be crying like a baby.”

  She looks at the fist and sighs, giving it a quick bump.

  “No more dick whimpering,” she says.

  “No more dick whimpering,” Bobby agrees. They walk a few feet. “So what about Hawks? You think I have a chance?”

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Val laughs, then cuts it short. “Twelve o’clock. Due west. You see that?”

  They both crouch down in the dark, hidden behind two large fir trees. Off at the edge of the commons there is movement. They both watch, their eyes piercing the darkness, struggling for details. Trained from the first time they were allowed outside the Stronghold, they know how to spot the difference between Z movement and living movement. Neither is happy by what they see.

  They slip on their NVGs, and the world around them goes from pitch black to a faded green. Bobby reaches out and taps her on her right shoulder. She taps him back on his left, letting him know she understands the plan. The two move off in opposite directions, eyes locked onto the end of the commons.

  Val marvels at the fact she can actually see in the dark. All the questions she has as to where the NVGs were found, how many batteries are stored in the armory, what happens if she breaks hers, etc, get shoved to the back of her mind. She focuses her attention on getting used to the new sight and that she’s lacking some of her peripheral vision. That part bugs her.

  Circling the commons to the right while Bobby covers the left, Val keeps her M-4 trained toward the area of movement. The green-hued shapes of trees and bushes are all that she sees at first, but after a few yards, she spots movement once again.

  A Z.

  Her training tells her not to engage, just to let the thing wander through the night and make its way to deader pastures. But something about the creature bugs her. It’s not what she and Bobby detected earlier. Yet, it’s right where they had been looking.

  Carefully placing each foot in front of the other, turned slightly sideways, Val approaches the Z. She gets about twenty yards away, then crouches and clears her throat. The Z instantly turns towards the sound and hisses, but it doesn’t move. Instead, it lifts its arms and just reaches out as if it’s stuck in place. Every instinct tells her to back off and regroup with Bobby. Go get the Team.

  But she doesn’t want to be the panicky rookie.

  Ignoring her gut, she takes a few steps closer, her enhanced vision studying the undead monster before her. It takes her a couple of seconds, but she finally spots what’s holding the Z back: a rope. Tied about its waist and staked down behind it.

  The footsteps come fast, and she barely gets turned before her NVGs go flying from her face. She stumbles but stays upright, bringing up her forearm to block the next hit. Pain explodes in her ulna as the bone absorbs the impact, but her experience tells her nothing’s broken; it just hurts like a mother fuck.

  Ducking low, she flips her carbine around and thrusts into the night toward her attacker, but she connects with nothing but air. She tumbles backward, rolling and coming up in a crouch as she feels something fly through the space her head had just occupied. She dives to the left and cries out as her ankle is smashed against the ground. Whoever is after her is fast and silent, neither of which are attributes that Zs possess.

  The first hit told her she’s dealing with a person and not a Z, but the speed makes her wonder what kind of person. Not a typical survy or wasteland trash. Could be a crazy, hopped up on whatever crazies like to snort, shoot, inhale, drink, jam up their rectums. But crazies like to holler and screech when they attack. This guy is quiet as a shadow and just as hard to track. Some cult member? One of the death-worshipping groups out in the Plains?

  All possibilities stream through her head as she rolls, ducks, dodges, and blocks the continuing attack. She takes a wicked hit to her temple, and streamers and stars light up the night. She feels her grip loosen on her carbine just as she’s trying to get it to her shoulder. The attacker senses her weakness and smacks the weapon from her hands. The clattering of metal against dirt and weed-covered concrete is the loudest sound Val’s heard all night other than her own grunts of pain.

  A boot connects with her jaw and she sprawls onto her back, her right hand fumbling at her belt for her blade. But that is back with TL Lafferty. Fuck.

  A shape fills the darkness above her and she tries to scoot back on her ass, but a kick to her groin ends that idea as sharp pain rocks her pelvis. She may not have nuts, but it still fucking hurts to get nailed in the bathing suit area. Her legs sweep one way then the other, but the shape just leaps over them. Then she sees the outline of arms being raised and the weapon they are holding coming at her fast.

  Three coughs, and the shape staggers and falls right on top of her. Val grunts at the weight, then shoves the body from her and scrambles to her feet.

  “You okay?” Bobby asks, hustling up to her. “What the fuck happened?”

  “I don’t know,” Val says. “I got jumped by this asshole.”

  Bobby, still wearing his NVGs, nudges the body with his foot. “Still breathing.” He kneels down carefully. “Body armor. I probably broke some ribs, but the piece of shit will live. Come on, let’s drag the fucker back.”

  “Give me a second,” Val says as she tries to catch her breath. “I need to find my NVGs.”

  “Over there,” Bobby says, pointing in the darkness. “Oh, sorry.”

  He walks a few feet away, kneels, and picks up the shattered NVGs.

  “Kevin is going to be so pissed when he sees these,” Bobby says.

  “TL won’t be too happy either,” Val says.

  She hooks the useless goggles to her belt and grabs one of the attacker’s arms. Bobby grabs the other, and they drag the unconscious person back to the Bell Tower. Tiny D opens the back door and frowns.

  “Took you two all of thirty minutes,” Tiny D says. “You ain’t gonna be bad luck for the Team, are you, Baptiste?”

  “Not trying to be,” Val says. “Help us carry this guy upstairs.”

  “Guy?” Tiny D asks, looking down at the body. “If it’s a guy, then he’s got something jammed under that armor of his.”

  Bobby and Val look down and realize they’re staring at a woman, not a man. They both gasp, with Tiny D joining them as they see the woman’s face.

  No eyes, just scab-rimmed holes.

  “What are the odds of that?” Bobby asks.

  Before either Val or Tiny D can respond, a shout from above grabs their attention.

  “Pyres up!” Alastair cries out. “Direct line to Sector One. We’ve got survies at the door, people!”

  CHAPTER

  FIVE

  SOMETHING IS ROTTEN IN DENVER

  “What the fuck is this happy horse—” Diaz starts, but catches the nod Val gives toward the boy sleeping in the corner.

  Val and Bobby set the unconscious woman down and roll her over. Diaz stares at the place where her eyes should be.

  “Hey, TL,” Diaz calls over his shoulder. “You busy?”

  “That some sort of joke, Diaz?” TL Lafferty asks as she stomps over to him. “We’ve got pyres lit up all the way to the Sector One platforms, and I’m trying t—”

  She stops and stares at the woman, then looks at Val and Bobby.

  “Carlyle?” TL Lafferty says to the man as he’s about to climb a ladder leading up to the open area of the Bell Tower. “Belay that order.”

  Carlyle frowns. “Protocol says I light the pyre. No way to get Runners up the mountain at night. Stronghold needs to know we have company.”

  “Change of plans,” TL Lafferty says, turning to look at the boy on a couch in the corner. “Get him up.”

  “TL, he’s sleeping,” Hawks says.

  “That’s why I want him up,” TL Lafferty barks. “Do I need to say it again, Mate?”

  “No, sir,” Hawks replies. “I’ll wake him.”

  Hawks walks over and gently nudges Marshall on the shoulder. The boy rolls over, his hands balled into fists, protecting his face.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Marshall,” Hawks says. “We just need you to wake up, please.”

  He lifts his head and sniffs the air. “Why is there smoke?”