by M. Van
Although my heart threatened to jump out from my chest and the sound of blood was rushing in my ears, I managed to keep the gun pretty steady. I hoped that I gave the illusion of calm, because on the inside, I felt ready to explode.
“Mags,” Preston said in a low voice as he waved at the pilot to back off. “This is not the way—”
“Just stop, Preston,” I said, “because I’m not gonna let go of this gun until this plane lands in … wherever it is that Mars wanted it to land.”
I just about had enough of people, and especially military folk, telling me what to do. Ash and I had been doing just fine on our own until we’d gotten ourselves involved in this creating-a-serum-for-the-greater-good bullshit, and it was my own damn fault. I never should’ve let them coerce me into splitting us up. Mars had intervened with good intentions when he’d offered Ash a place to stay at his parents’ home, but I should never have agreed. We should have stayed together.
“Jesus, Mags, you can’t do this,” Tom said.
“Shut up, Tom,” Preston remarked. With a sideways glance, my eyes met Angie’s. She leaned against the toilet door inside the small passage leading to the cockpit, and I noticed her hand on the weapon holstered at her thigh. Her face looked placid, but her eyes burned with fire. She gave me an approving nod. Relieved to have her on my side, I returned my focus on the young man with the headphones.
“Preston,” I said, “if you be so kind and give these fine men the coordinates of where we would like to go.”
“They already have them,” he said. I felt a shock running through me, and I swallowed hard before I turned my gaze to face him.
“Huh?” was all that left my mouth.
“The pilots are informed of a possible secondary location,” he said.
“So why didn’t you say anything?” I said.
“Because they haven’t changed course yet.”
“Oh, they’re changing course,” I said and pressed the gun harder against the young man’s chin.
“Just hear me out for a second,” Preston said, raising his hands in the air. “I’ve contacted Marshall about the situation, and she’s personally contacting Whitfield. I’m just waiting for conformation.”
“That’s not good enough,” I said.
“Come on, Mags,” Gibs interjected. “It won’t hurt to wait it out. You know they’ll just throw you in jail the moment we land in Cali if you go through with this. Think about it.”
I glanced at Angie, who shrugged, but her head shifted, and I glanced over her shoulder. Toby and Savanna stood aghast as they watched the exchange. The kids most have woken up from the ruckus and now looked at me with eyes wide and Toby’s mouth hanging slightly open.
“It’s worth considering,” she said. I silently cursed myself as I pulled my gaze from the kids to the young man whose shirt I clung to and who had eyes even wider than the kids. He was pretty much a kid himself.
“Uh, Staff Sergeant,” the captain said, “I’ve just received information about a revised flight plan.”
“See,” Gibs said. He gave me a knowing look when I glanced at him and considered his words. He was right; I probably wouldn’t have been able to get off the plane before they had someone stop me.
“Let me check the message,” Preston said, “and I’m sure we’ll be able to convince these nice pilots flying us that you had a bad reaction to stress.”
I glared at him, but Preston wasn’t impressed. He edged closer and placed his palm on my hand holding the gun. Opening my clenched fist around the fabric of his shirt, I released the young man. He jerked back immediately and all but fell in his chair. I didn’t pay attention to his rambling as Preston moved past me and entered the cockpit. I took stock of the others and noticed a mixed response. Tom just looked confused, but Gibs nodded appreciatively. Like most times, I couldn’t read Angie’s face, but the kids looked shocked.
“Sorry,” I said to them. Toby’s face seemed frozen, but Savanna gave me an attempt at a nervous smile.
A moment later, Preston stepped from the cockpit and offered me the gun back. He gestured at it with his head as I gaped at him in surprise.
“You’ll need it,” he said. “We’re heading west.”
| 29
Mags
It took me a while to get my butt planted in my seat after that. The combination of fear and impatience along with a pinch of shame kept my nerves strung high. This plane was just moving too damn slow. Fortunately, Angie kept her head cool and even sat down with Savanna and Toby to explain the situation. They seemed understanding, but Toby avoided eye contact the few times that he moved past me to head to the toilet.
I tried to close my eyes, but kept seeing Ash’s face, and the sounds from the call played on repeat inside my head. She was hurt—he had hurt her. Warren had hurt her and might still be hurting her. The knowledge brought back the memories I’d been trying to forget: the image of Ash’s small frame in the arms of a soldier as he carried her back to her cell after Warren had done god knows what to her. I hadn’t even been able to comfort her as I’d wanted to because of the bars that had separated our cells. But Ash was a strong kid and I needed to focus on that.
Mars had helped us get out of there, and we had survived. Except for the nightmares that I knew sometimes plagued her, she seemed to have gotten out of that situation okay, and she’d be able to do that again; I’d make sure of that.
I shook my head as my thoughts shifted from Ash to Mars. How could he have let this happen? I didn’t know whether to feel for him or be angry with him. It had been his idea to let Ash stay with his parents, and now they were dead. I couldn’t help wondering whether Dr. David had specifically gone after Ash and if Mars’s parents were just collateral damage.
“Hey,” a voice said as I stared at the back of the seat in front of me. I looked up and saw Preston gazing down at me. I hadn’t exactly apologized to him for my earlier outburst and shifted uncomfortably in my seat to face him.
“Hey,” I offered in reply.
“Mind if I sit?”
I shook my head but found it hard to look him in the eye, and I diverted my gaze back to the seat in front of me.
“I … uh …” I muttered, trying to think of something to say, but my mind had gone blank. It had worked out, but only because Preston hadn’t just relied on orders being orders, and I felt grateful to him for that. That didn’t mean that if he hadn’t I wouldn’t have gone through with it. The anger I had felt and that I still felt would have taken me on a path that pre-zombie apocalypse, I never would have considered possible. Post-zombie apocalypse, I didn’t even think that I would apologize for it, although I wished I hadn’t scared the kids in the process, and I did feel ashamed about that.
“We both know you’re not sorry for what you did, so let’s just leave it at that,” he said as he took the seat next to me.
I opened my mouth to protest, but considering the fact that I had already decided on the same thing, I closed it again.
“Listen, I’ve just spoken with Agent Marsden, and he wanted me to give you some details.”
I turned my head and stared at him blankly.
“You’ve been sitting here looking just like that for over an hour,” he added.
“You spoke with Mars?” I asked. The slight tremor in my voice had me clear my throat. “Why didn’t you come get me?” Preston shifted a little in his seat and cleared his own throat before he answered.
“Because he asked me not to.”
“Why?” I asked, unsure if it were shock, disappointment, or anger that made my voice rise an octave.
“Because I had given him the lowdown on what happened before and he figured that, given the information that he needed you to know, it would be better this way,” he said. Preston paused a second. “He also suggested I was to disarm you before I said anything.”
I blinked at him, unable to find the words for a reply.
“I figured you wouldn’t shoot the messenger.” Preston shot me a gri
n and then stuck his hand in the air. “Angie, got a minute,” he asked and flicked his wrist to wave her over. Angie strolled over to us, slid into the row in front of us, and leaned on the seat’s back.
“What’s up?” she said.
“I might need the backup,” he said and shot her a half-smile.
“Okay, this isn’t funny anymore,” I said. “Tell me.”
Angie gave me a questioning look and then shifted to Preston as he began.
“Agent Marsden, or Mars,” he said with a nod, “thinks he might know where Ash is now.” In a reflex, I grabbed Preston’s arm.
“Is she all right?” I asked almost breathlessly. This was good news, and I glanced up at Angie to find confirmation, but her gaze remained cool and collected.
“As I was trying to say, he hasn’t found her yet, but he has a good indication of where she might be,” he said. It seemed Angie’s attitude had been the right one to go with. Reclaiming some composure, I asked, “Where?”
“He has received a call from a medic who reported seeing a young girl in a wheelchair,” Preston carried on. “She’s being held by at the refugee camp where he’s stationed.”
With every word he said, I felt the blood drain from my face. Angie’s, however, flushed a dark red. Somehow we both managed to keep our mouths shut. Preston must have noticed because he paused in hesitation before he continued.
“The medic said that she’d pulled quite a stunt to escape a moving truck,” he said.
“Wait. She did what?” I said shocked as Preston’s words seeped in.
“I don’t know the details,” Preston said quickly, “but from what the medic has said she’s okay.” I shot Angie a glance and found a hint of pride in her expression.
“Then what happened?” she asked.
“A major has claimed her,” Preston said, “but not before she’d been very vocal about whom he was and that someone should contact Mars.”
“Good girl,” I said to myself.
“And this major is …” Angie asked as if she knew the answer to the question already.
“It’s not confirmed, but most likely Warren,” Preston replied.
“So where are they?” Angie asked.
“They are already at Salinas Sports Complex,” he said. I glared at him.
“He’s already at the place where he’d said he’d be two days from now,” I said. Preston nodded before he added, “And guess who assigned him there.”
“Cornwell,” I said.
“Exactly,” Preston replied.
I rubbed my temples and shook my head. It would take some time to digest the games people were playing with our lives. A heavy silence weighed on me as Preston and Angie seemingly waited for me to say something else.
“How’s Rowdy doing in all this?” I asked, hoping for some good news because I could use it.
A reassuring smile grew on Preston’s face before he said, “The kid is shaken up but doing fine. He bonded a little with a private named Luke Bennett. He’s one of the surviving soldiers of Ash’s detail, and he will keep Rowdy company until this matter is resolved. They’re in a safe location.”
I nodded slowly and felt relieved to hear Rowdy was okay. It must have been a hell of a trauma for the young boy, and I had seen a glimpse of how much he cared about his grandparents. But he was young and kids could forget, right? At least I hoped he could.
“Oh, and Cornwell has been placed under arrest and pending investigation, he’s to face charges for his part in this,” Preston said as an afterthought.
I nodded, but didn’t actually care about what happened to Cornwell. My mind was still processing Preston’s earlier words. I shifted to Preston as something occurred to me.
“You said …” I started but paused, just as much to think of the right words as to get it all sorted inside my head. “Ash was assigned a detail.”
Preston gave me a questioning look.
“Why?” I asked.
“Warren,” Angie added without waiting for a reply, and Preston nodded.
“When did he show up?” she asked.
“A couple of days ago,” Preston replied. My mouth fell open, but I closed it as I shifted my gaze to Angie.
“As in maybe two days before we left for Alabama,” I said. From my peripheral vision, I could see Preston narrow his eyes at me. For a second, I thought he glanced down at the gun tucked into my holster, but he had been right before—I wouldn’t shoot the messenger.
“Son of a—” Angie exclaimed. I stared at her knuckles as they had gone completely white while she gripped the headrest of the chair. “That video call.”
I nodded in understanding. Ash had acted weird the entire conversation, and I couldn’t pinpoint why. I guessed this explained it.
“It was him in that room with her,” I said under my breath.
“Who? When?” Preston asked, but I ignored him. That strange conversation with Ash played in the back of my mind as it had that night. It hadn’t sat well with me, but then all the traveling and the distribution center had happened, and it had sort of slipped my mind. I would have asked Ash about it the next time we talked, but then it wouldn’t have mattered. She had lied to me. What was worse was that Mars had put her up to it. Who else could it have been in that room with her? Ash wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to sit in on a call with us.
“She lied to me,” I said in a whisper, “and he asked her to.” I didn’t think anyone had heard, but Angie reached out a hand and squeezed my shoulder.
“They didn’t want you to worry,” she said. I looked up at her and let out a strained chuckle.
“Then why does your head look like a tomato,” I said.
Angie shrugged, and as if it were the most normal thing in the world to say, she said, “Because along with understanding, I’m severely pissed, and as soon as this plane lands, I’m gonna find Mars and kick his ass.”
Part of me wanted to join in on that, and as soon as the adoption papers were finalized, I would ground Ash for the rest of her life. But as angry as I felt about being left out, there was also Mars’s loss that tugged at my insides.
“He lost his mom and dad,” I whispered. Angie’s face softened as she sighed.
“Yeah,” she said, the sadness clear in her voice, “he did.”
I had never met the Marsdens in person, except through video calls, but from what I had come to know, they had been the most warmhearted and loving people who cared tremendously about their son and grandchild and had welcomed Ash with open arms.
Preston stood from his seat and offered it to Angie. She dropped herself into the seat with an audible thump as the pilot’s voice came over the intercom and announced our approach at Monterey Regional Airport.
“I might hold off on kicking Mars’s ass,” she said after the pilot finished talking, “but I swear to God, if something happens to that kid …” I shot her a look, and she refrained from finishing her sentence.
“You’re right,” she added. “We’ll find Ash.”
| 30
Mags
It still took a while for the plane to land at Monterey Regional Airport. This should have given me some time to get my head straight, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. As I grabbed my gear and headed down the aisle, I noticed that my body had turned into a block of tension during the rest of the flight.
As I reached the open door of the plane, it seemed to hit me like the proverbial freight train. On a rational level, I knew Mars would never do anything to jeopardize Ash, and I didn’t know any of the details. It didn’t stop the rush of anger raging through me every time I thought of Ash. That anger should have been directed at Dr. David, but I couldn’t clamp down the aggravation I felt when it came to Mars. He had promised me to take care of her, and he should have told me about Dr. David. How could he not have?
It should have been easy to blame Dr. David for everything that had happened to us. He had held Ash and me captive, tortured us and had even stood at the cradle of the Mortem
outbreak at Cheyenne Mountain. I was well aware that I had caused those deaths by infecting William, the doctor’s aide, but only because of what he had done to me. So why was it so hard for me to set this anger I felt toward Mars aside?
On the steps leading from the plane, blue skies decorated with one or two fluffy clouds loomed over us. Preston, Tom, and Gibs had already headed down. About half a dozen men dressed in the same pixelated tiger-stripe pattern we all wore waited for them in greeting.
I watched them walk in the direction of two vans that stood parked a short distance from the plane while I waited for Angie and the two kids. My eyes roamed across the tarmac and the airmen standing around the vans as I searched for the one person I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to see.
Savanna exited first, and she squinted against the sun as she took in her surroundings. Angie and Toby followed, and it was getting crowded on the small platform. I reached out a hand to lift Savanna’s chin and guided her head up until our eyes met.
“Stick close to us, okay,” I said. “Don’t go with anyone.” I couldn’t help the serious expression on my face and the edge in my voice. Savanna would have to read it off my face, but I think Toby needed both. He had avoided me ever since the gun incident, although he seemed to have bonded with Angie, but I couldn’t have him wandering off with someone we didn’t know.
“Keep an eye on them,” I said to Angie as she and the kids past me and headed down the steps. I’d made it halfway down before I saw him, and the sight of Mars stopped me in my tracks.
He leaned against one of the vans, wearing the same combat fatigues as the others, with a pair of sunglasses bridged on his nose. His frizzy hair was a bit longer, and it looked as if he hadn’t shaved in a while. His dark skin stood in contrast against the white van that he seemingly needed to support him.