"Price isn't doing this because he's had a change of heart about the camp followers. He's making this move to keep his men alive. He'll leave behind anything that is no longer of value to him. That includes everyone on the Line and half the women inside camp, at least the ones they're bored with. Knowing my son, he won't let them just walk away. He's used to murdering those who he no longer has a use for."

Windows' hands shook. She placed the plate down on the blanket and tucked her hands under her arms so the tremors wouldn't show. "Do you really think he'll kill us?"

"If not, he'll take you with him where you will wind up servicing the entire camp." He met her gaze and mouthed the words, "And probably Cindy, too."

Windows began to cry. How could she have been so nave? Things would not get better. In fact, her situation would become infinitely worse. And now Cindy would be dragged into it. Fear for their safety mixed with the desperation that flooded her emotions. She understood why Debra committed suicide.

"Don't cry." Lee placed a deformed hand on her shoulder. "There's a way out."

"No there isn't!" she sobbed.

Lee grinned. "What if I told you I had hidden a car less than five miles from here with a full tank of gas and three days' worth of supplies."

"Are you serious?"

He nodded. "When the others were getting ready to take down Price, I prepared a Rav-4 for escape just in case things went wrong. It's fully ga.s.sed and has four backpacks in it, each with a three-day supply of dried food and water. I'm the only one who knew about it, and when we got ratted out I kept quiet, hoping someday I might be able to use it to get out of here. I can't use it anymore, but you can."

Windows rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes and sniffed. "You're going with us. I won't leave you here."

"You have to."

"No."

"Listen to me. If you and the girl disappear during the move, Price probably won't even notice, and if he does, I doubt he'll send anyone after you. If I go missing, he'll hunt me down and kill anyone who's with me. You stand a much better chance if you leave me behind."

"I can't-"

Lee held up his hand to cut her off. "You know I'm right. I'll be okay if I stay here. You two won't survive much longer. End of argument."

Windows fought back the tears. She knew her only chance of saving Cindy was to sneak off on her own. She also knew that she would be condemning Lee to misery. The thought of it tore her up inside. However, she had her priorities. She forced a smile.

"Getting to the car is easy," Lee whispered. "Route 28 is right outside the compound. Head north, take the second street on your left, and follow it for about two miles. You'll come to an old construction site. There's a metal garage on the site. The Rav-4 is in there."

"Thanks."

"You can thank me by getting that little girl to safety."

The meal continued on as usual, only this time Windows noticed that Lee had a content expression on his face.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE.

"Television." Wayans thought about it for a moment and nodded. "I miss television the most."

"That's it?" laughed DeWitt. "Of all the things you could miss from the pre-outbreak days, you miss television the most?"

"What's friggin' wrong with that? I used to love the SyFy Channel, though that sounds pretty lame now."

"What about you?" Jennifer asked Simmons. "Excluding family and friends, what do miss most about life before the outbreak?"

"Crime."

"Stopping it or committing it?" chided Frakes.

"I know it sounds weird. A better answer is probably solving crime. It kept me busy. The worst part about being here is I'm bored out of my mind. I now understand why so many cops can't handle retirement." Simmons leaned forward in his chair and smiled good-naturedly at Jennifer. "What do you miss?"

"Drinking a hot cup of peppermint tea while reading a book."

"I didn't picture you as the nerdy type," Robson remarked.

"Would it make me less nerdy if I told you I did that in silk pajamas?"

"No," he lied, enjoying the mental image.

"Your turn."

Robson thought a moment. "The beach."

"The beach is still there, man," said DeWitt.

"I mean enjoying the beach. When I was with the sheriff's department, I'd always stop by the coast on the way home, park for a few minutes, and just listen to the waves rolling in. I found it relaxing. It used to give me a few moments of solace. Now it just reminds me of how alone we are."

Jennifer reached out for his hand and squeezed, and then steered the conversation back on track.

"DeWitt?"

"Dunkin Donuts iced coffee."

"Oh, my G.o.d. Yes." Allard closed his eyes. "With a half dozen honey dipped Munchkins."

Frakes shook his head. "Ever been to Revere Beach down in Ma.s.sachusetts? Kelly's makes the best roast beef sandwiches in the world. We used to drive down there every Friday night for dinner. That's a meal to miss."

Seeing that Roberta appeared ill at ease, Jennifer asked, "What's wrong?"

Roberta's eyes went from Jennifer to the two cops and back again. "I don't know if I should say."

"We're all friends here. Go on."

Roberta shrugged. "I'd kill right now for a joint."

Wayans threw his head back and laughed. "You and me both."

Roberta showed her surprise. "But you're a cop."

Even Simmons laughed now. "That doesn't mean we don't know how to have fun."

Allard nudged Roberta in the arm. "I bet you those two could hook you up."

She flushed red from embarra.s.sment.

Jennifer glared at Caslow, who sat separated from the others, staring at his plate. "What do you miss most?"

Without lifting his head, he responded, "My wife and daughter."

"Family and friends are excluded."

"I don't care." He fixed his eyes on Jennifer. "They're the only things I miss from my past life."

The joyous mood drained away as everyone remembered a loved one who didn't make it past that first week. After a minute of morose silence, DeWitt spoke.

"I have a question. Once we rescue Windows and Caslow's family, then what?"

"We bring them back here," Robson answered.

"I mean, what about all the other people being held hostage at the compound? What are we going to do with them?"

Robson sat back in his chair. He hadn't thought about that. The defense perimeter held thirty to forty people, none of whom could survive on their own for more than a few days. Most of them probably wouldn't last long even under his protection. And G.o.d only knew how many more were inside the compound that he wasn't aware of. He couldn't set up a new camp here. Although the garage served well enough as a temporary shelter, it would be inadequate to house another forty people. Setting out to find another location would be a death sentence for most of those who survived the raid. Without food and proper medical care, few of them would make it past the first week. He didn't even want to contemplate what would happen if rotters attacked the convoy. Best case scenario, even if most of them lived through the trip and they found an ideal location to reestablish camp, he still faced the prospect of fortifying, supplying, and defending the new compound with far fewer able bodied personnel than he would have mouths to feed. Christ, by trying to do the right thing he may have condemned them all to death.

What really sucked was that he could still change his mind about this raid.

"Boss?" DeWitt asked. "Did you hear me?"

"I did. I just hadn't thought about that before. I've been concentrating on saving Windows."

Simmons shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I hate to be an a.s.shole about this, but we can't accommodate so many people."

"You're not being an a.s.shole," said Robson. "You've done more than enough for us already, and I wouldn't put that burden on you."

"Friggin' sorry, man."

"It's okay. Honest." Robson stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I need to figure this out."

Leaving the rectory, he took a slow walk up the road away from the garage, trying to find a solution between two unenviable options. If one existed, he couldn't come up with it. His choices sucked. If he did the right thing and tried to save everyone, more than likely he would get them all killed. If he saved only his own people, they had a pretty good chance of making it, yet the price would be his conscience.

He heard the footsteps approaching then Jennifer called out, "Wait up."

He turned around as she raced up. "I need to be alone."

"I know. I want to say something. You have a tough decision to make, and either way you're going to feel guilty about what you do. I've been there. Dr. Compton and I agonized for days over whether we should try the vaccine on human volunteers, fully aware of the risks. Every time a volunteer turned, we felt horrible."

"Thanks." Robson turned to walk away.

Jennifer grabbed his hand and pulled him around to face her, keeping a grip on his palm so he couldn't leave. "I'm not finished. We did things we would never have done under normal conditions, made decisions we knew would cost lives. We had to under the circ.u.mstances. Things have changed. As difficult as it is for any of us to grasp, sometimes we have to sacrifice people so humanity can thrive. It's not easy, but the tough decisions have to be made. Do you think any less of me because of what we had to do to create the Zombie Vaccine?"

"Of course not."

"Then you shouldn't think any less of yourself. All I'm trying to say is, do what you think is best for all of us, not what you think a society that died nine months ago would want you to do. Whatever, decision you make, we'll support you."

"Thanks. I mean that. It does put things into perspective."

"I'm glad." Jennifer gave his hand a squeeze and broke the grip. She turned to leave, throwing over her shoulder, "I'm here if you need anything."

Robson watched her walk off until she disappeared into the dark. For the first time in weeks, he had thoughts of being intimate with someone. Only this time those thoughts were not of Natalie.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO.

"We're not going anywhere," Emily said.

"This can't be the end of the line," protested Ari. "There has to be a way around."

"Maybe on foot," replied Emily. "There's no way we're getting the yacht past that."

That referred to the pontoon bridge one hundred feet in front of them that stretched across the Mississippi River a few miles north of St. Louis.

Natalie stood on the flying bridge between the two women, scanning the area with her binoculars. On either bank, the approaches for both the Chain of Rocks and New Chain of Rocks Bridges stood intact; however, one of the central spans on each bridge had collapsed or, judging from the jagged edges of the surrounding spans and the burnt marks on the concrete abutments, had been blown away. Between the two damaged structures, the military had erected a pontoon bridge across the Mississippi that blocked further access along the river. To the north of the pontoon bridge, dozens of boats of various sizes had been abandoned, either stacked against the bridge, moored to the supports of the New Chain of Rocks Bridge, or run aground on the sandbar that stretched for half a mile along the west bank of the Mississippi. Fortunately, she saw no signs of rotters.

Natalie scowled. "How far are we from the Missouri River?"

"It's less than two miles north of us," Emily replied.

"And how far to Omaha?"

"Another four hundred miles."

"s.h.i.t." Natalie used the binoculars to scan the boats along the sandbar.

"What if we removed the center span of the pontoon bridge?" suggested Stephanie. "We could let it flow downriver, along with the boats clogged up behind it. That would open a way for us."

Emily shook her head. "The only problem is we don't have the tools or the know how to do something like that."

"Maybe we could use explosives to blow it away?" Ari grasped at ideas.

"Do you know where we can get explosives?" Emily had a tinge of frustration in her voice.