After they’d loaded two five-gallon red plastic jugs of gasoline onto a cart, she walked with them to their “little” house, a six-bedroom McMansion. Thanks to the gasoline-powered generator, there wasair-conditioning, hot showers, and all the video games she could stand to watch Caleb play.
Houses were free now; you could take your pick. The trio had chosen a beaut—or it would have been if Caleb didn’t leave so much trash around.
Nobody picked up after him, and she hesitated to do so, too, fearing he might take it as criticism. On probation, she needed all three of them to like her. Besides, she didn’t want to risk becoming the unpaid housekeeper.
While the living arrangement had gone smoothly, she’d been left to her own devices much of the time. In three days, they’d only had passing conversations; they’d spoken more in the grocery store parking lot. The trio, as she’d deemed them, pretty much did their own thing. For Caleb, that meant endless video games. And Zack and Sandy? Well, they were a couple, or at least friends with benefits—frequent, noisy benefits. They spent a lot of time alone in their room. Fortunately, Caleb’s video games drowned out most of the sound.
This morning, Zack had gone for a solo walk—and then returned to announce he’d encountered other people.
“Where are they? What are they like?” she asked now.
Zack had described the woman as “an old chick.” She guessed his age to be late twenties, maybe thirty, so maybe forty-five seemed old to him. Or maybe the womanwaselderly. Age didn’t matter. There were other people!
“Shit!” Caleb’s spaceship blew up, so he closed out the game and turned to face Zack. “Think they’ll stay put?”
“They’re in a mattress store. Seemed pretty comfortable. Don’t think they’ll be going anywhere.”
Sandy emerged from their bedroom to give Zack a hug and a kiss. “Hey, babe.”
Chloe wouldn’t have chosen a mattress store as the best place to hide. Those storefronts tended to have big windows; you could beseen. Although she hadn’t spotted a single Progg since that one time, she couldn’t forget they were out there. What if they returned to the cities to confirm they’d killed everyone?
“Did they see you?” Caleb asked.
“No.”
No? How could he have found other people and not approached them, talked to them?
“I figured we’d all go together and meet them,” Zack said.
Chapter Two
Somewhere near Kansas City, Missouri, USA, Planet Earth
Rok hoped the stench of decay didn’t cause him to vomit. He could barely stand, but he was alive. Not so the others in his unit.
“Soldier Bivoc died with honor, giving his life for Progg-Res—” Capt. Xenyth broke into a coughing fit.
“The stars in the sky—”Cough. Cough.The captain’s sickly gray skin blanched to almost white, and he swayed on his feet.
“Are you all right, sir?”
“Fine, soldier, fine.” He straightened and continued, “The stars in the sky will shine brighter for Bivoc’s sacrifice. May he serve the will of Zok, forever in battle, forever honored.”
The captain gave a nod, and Rok discharged his weapon, vaporizing Bivoc’s body.
It would have been a moving eulogy if not for the captain’s coughing fit, the ignominious cause of death,and the fact that this was the twentieth funeral they’d performed.
Bivoc had been felled, not in a valiant battle but by a human disease, probably the same contagion that had killed Admiral Drek, the leader of the Earth campaign, which then spread to other ground units. For the longest time, they’d believed their unit had been spared, but then, a month ago, a soldier came down with a sore throat and nasal congestion. Quarantine came too late. One by one, men sickened and died.
Only he and Captain Xenyth had survived.
Neither of them was fully recovered yet, but they had to deal with the bodies of their fallen comrades. The stench of decomposition had spread throughout the cavernous gymnasium where they’d established a base of operations.
“Well, that’s that,” Xenyth said. “Did you check the comms?”
He had been checking for messages daily, sometimes hourly—except during the last two weeks when he’d been too ill to rise from his cot. He’d managed to drag himself out of bed this morning to check again. “I did. Nothing.”
They’d received no new orders or messages from the command ship or the General Ministry since the brief one six months ago informing them Admiral Drek had passed, and they should await further direction. Then, five months ago, communications from other units had ceased, too.
