Kil transited aft inside the large submarine, thinking about what La.r.s.en had said. He was going to pay Rex and Rico a little visit. Kil knocked on their door; he didn't like intruding into the berthing s.p.a.ces unless absolutely necessary.

"Who is it?" Kil recognized Rex's voice from behind the door.

"Kil."

"Don't you mean Commander Kil?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"Sorry, no officers in the clubhouse."

Kil decided to walk in anyway. "Listen, the captain tells me that you guys are a go tomorrow. We're gonna have overhead support starting at ten hundred GMT," said Kil.

Rex stood, taking the weight off his overstuffed bunk. "What about you?"

"What do you mean?"

Rico slid open the blue curtain on his rack, entering the conversation. "La.r.s.en said this morning that you've decided to come with us. That true?" he asked.

"That son of a b.i.t.c.h," Kil said, shaking his head and balling his fist.

"Don't worry, we know. La.r.s.en is playing both of us," Rex said. "We sure could use your help though. We have a full load out here, check it out." Rex pulled back an empty rack curtain and gestured to the pile of battle rifles. "After the s.h.i.t hit the fan, scavenger units raided the various military a.r.s.enals around the states. Most of those government guns were complete s.h.i.t. Some of our friends helped us out in one of the last mainland supply raids. They took a couple helicopters and looted a civilian manufacturer's factory in Central Texas and found these." Rex pointed at the pile of black rifles, grabbing one and tossing it to Kil. "That's a LaRue 7.62 with an eighteen-inch barrel. It'll bloom heads at nine hundred meters if the right shooter is behind it."

The feel of the battle rifle in Kil's hands brought back something that had hibernated just under the surface for what seemed like years, since his exile in the Texas badlands of the undead. The weight of the weapon in his hands brought back his feelings of rugged individualism. He reluctantly handed it back to Rex.

"Kil, I can see the wheels turning. Go talk to your friend. Your man is pretty handy with the long gun-don't think me and Rico didn't notice in Hawaii."

"f.u.c.k, yeah! That dude is a downtown killer," Rico shouted from his rack, wearing one earbud, snapping his fingers to some tune. "Besides, we know you survived in the s.h.i.t for months. We read all about it, so don't go giving us some story about not being trained for this. They didn't go over Zombies 101 in BUD/S or any s.h.i.t like that, so I think we're 'bout even."

Kil stood like a statue for a while before speaking, carefully choosing his words. "We need to start mission planning tonight."

"f.u.c.k, yeah! I told you, Rex, that he'd be down!" Rico yelled.

Rex tossed the battle rifle back across the room; Kil caught it without blinking. "What are you gonna name her, Kil?"

"I'll let you know when we get back," Kil stated without expression. Kil was shocked at his decision, but understood that his choice had been made long before today.

"You sure you want that one? Only twenty round mags and she's heavy."

"Let me put it to you this way-about one in six of those things I shot in the dome with my M-4 kept coming at me. If you do the math, you're only five shots down with the .308 and I'll guarand.a.m.n-tee you that this will put them down. I've seen Saien put them to sleep at eight hundred meters. Worth the ammo penalty and the weight if you ask me."

"Yeah, me and Rico saw that during the Kunia exfil. Some of our rounds skirted the skull; the things stumbled and fell but got back up and kept coming. Not cool."

Kil turned for the door. "I'm gonna go talk to Saien. Meet me in the SCIF at twenty hundred so we can put this thing on paper and see what it looks like."

"Sounds good. Have a good 'un," Rex said as Kil ducked out the doorway.

52.

Hotel 23-Southeast Texas "Welcome back, a.s.sholes," Hawse said by way of greeting as Doc, Billy, and Disco returned from the C-130 crash site.

Doc carried something large and orange strapped to his ruck. "Did they tell you what we got, Hawse?"

"Yeah, your relay worked. The A-10 guys are running out of folks, but they pa.s.sed your comms. The carrier sent a file to the burst laptop that can pull the GPS coords from that box. They said there should be a USB port underneath the outer sh.e.l.l."

"Okay, let's get on it. I wanna know where these motherf.u.c.kers are hiding," Doc said.

"One more thing, boss. I lost comms with the carrier."

"What? I thought you told me they sent you the black box program."

"Yeah, but I haven't been able to hail them since. No response on primary, alternate, or tertiary channels."

"Just fix it, Hawse. I don't know what the big picture is, but I know that something is going down soon. They briefed us that we should be ready around the new year before we jumped into this s.h.i.t box."

"I'll do my best, man. Our gear is working fine, known good. All bit checks are green, full connectivity with the bird. It's on their end, man," said Hawse.

"G.o.d, I hope not. They're our ride outta here," Disco said, looking over at Billy sharpening his tomahawk. "What do you think of all this, Billy Boy?"

"I think we should focus on what we can change."

"Yeah," Doc said. "Keep on those comms, Hawse. I'm about to go to work on that box with a pry bar and hammer."

Layers of carbon fiber, steel, aluminum, and other composites protected the guts of the box from crash impact and fire. Doc began carefully prying the sh.e.l.l away from the frame.

The sound of Billy Boy's tomahawk sliding against a smooth sandstone rock marked the time. Doc watched as Billy shaved part of his face stubble with the crude weapon, indicating its razor sharpness.

"Billy, Hammer never kept that thing as sharp as you do. How long are you going to carry it around?"

"Until I kill a hundred with it."

After an hour of cursing and b.l.o.o.d.y knuckles, the USB port was finally exposed.

"Hawse, grab the cord."

"Uh, okay. I'll be back in a few weeks. Headed to Best Buy. Wait, I better call ahead to see if they're open twenty-four hours."

"You've gotta be f.u.c.king kidding me. No USB cord in this entire facility, with all these computers?"

"Most of this stuff is way low tech. Like nineties-style low tech. Early nineties even-freaking parallel ports. I think-well, never mind."

"What?"

"It won't work. We'd need to bring down a critical system," Hawse claimed.

"Screw the critical system! We're one USB cable away from figuring out where the bad guys might be. What were you going to say?" Doc pressured.

"Well, there is a USB cable topside with the burst antenna array. We'd need to go up there, unplug the cord, bringing down burst comms to use it. Up to you, man, but what if we miss the comms from the carrier because we're playing around with this orange box?"

"It's worth it. Billy, you and Hawse go up there now. Hurry up, the sun will be up soon."

"We're on it," Hawse said.

The men were topside as the sun approached the eastern horizon. The sky was dark blue, stars fading. Too dim for the naked eye, but too bright for night vision. "Dude, I'm going off NODs," Hawse said.

Billy looked over through his green electronic eyes. "I'm not."

"The thing is right up here," Hawse said. "Let's hurry up and get back down. I'm feeling creeped out, like we're surrounded or something. Like one of those cartoons, lights out, but eyes watching from everywhere."

"Stop talking," Billy said in a whisper as he stopped to sniff the air and scan his surroundings.

"What is it? See something?"

"No-let's get this over with."

They reached the burst comm unit and began to dismantle the waterproof shield that covered the cable connection. The top of the sun broke over the eastern horizon.

With little warning, two creatures sprinted from the tall Texas brush like velociraptors, closing on Hawse and Billy as they fumbled with the equipment. The eager grunts of flesh hunger gave away the undead's attack.

"What the-contact!" Hawse screamed, swinging his weapon around and firing from the hip.

Billy dropped the comms equipment, pulling his sidearm. His rifle was slung behind his back to work the electronics, making it difficult to retrieve quickly. Hawse's carbine shots glanced off the advancing creature's shoulder, temporarily knocking it back.

Billy drew down on the trailing fast-mover with his Glock, dropping the thing in its tracks with two shots, one to the neck, the second to the head. The lead creature, virtually unaffected by the shoulder injury, screamed forward into Hawse's carbine barrel, and swatted at his face. Billy tried to help but couldn't shoot without the risk of killing Hawse in the process. Hawse squeezed off ten rounds, all of which blew through the creature's stomach, having no effect. The creature's inert and rotting internal organs spilled onto Hawse's boots.

His rifle barrel began to sink into the creature's open stomach as it advanced on him. He couldn't maneuver his rifle to aim at the corpse's head. It kept thrashing and screaming forward, taking all of Hawse's strength to keep it at bay.

Neither man saw any hint of humanity from what stood in front of them. The creature was swollen, hairless, and missing most of its teeth; pants torn away from the thighs down, shoes worn through to bare, nearly skeletal feet.

Billy shifted his Glock to his weak hand and pulled his tomahawk. Maneuvering behind the creature, he drew back, slamming down on the creature's skull with immense force. The creature's head was cleaved in half all the way down to its shoulders, exposing skull, brains, and spinal cord beneath. It slumped to the dirt, sliding off the barrel of Hawse's weapon. Hawse still pointed his gun forward, now aimed directly, but unintentionally, at Billy Boy's torso.

"Move that G.o.dd.a.m.ned thing," said Billy.

"Yeah. S-sorry."

"They came fast-we almost bought it, man! They were hunting us. I felt something looking at me from the bushes. You?"

Billy wiped his tomahawk on the brown gra.s.s and said, "Yeah. I felt something." He walked back to the electronics, taking off his NODs.

By this time, the sun was over the horizon, prompting a need for speed and efficiency.

"It's under the foam in this Pelican case, below the transceiver," Hawse uttered quietly, checking his back sporadically.

"Focus, Hawse," said Billy. "Just pull the cable and let's get back down."

After a minute of following the cable through a maze of other wires, Hawse carefully detached it from the CPU encryptor connected to one of the other small comms boxes. He used a silver Sharpie from his chest rig and marked the cable location so they could return it quickly after pulling the flight recorder data.

They ran back to the access hatch, killing two more stalkers along the way. The surrounding fields closed in around them. The creatures were stalking them. Both Hawse and Billy could see silhouettes at the tree line. They had little choice now but to believe the written reports from this facility's former officer in charge. Fear would not dilute reality; Billy and Hawse later reported that they felt a thousand undead eyes on them as they sprinted back underground with the cheap but now priceless cable.

53.

"Saien, we need to talk," Kil said, entering the stateroom where Saien feverishly played on a small touch-screen tablet. "Where did you get that?" Kil asked, confused at the sight of Saien playing anything.

"One of the sailors let me borrow it in exchange for long-range shooting lessons. Right now I'm using some plants to kill . . . well, never mind. I'm sure you and I can work out a deal if you wish to play," Saien said, smiling.

"You've got to be kidding me. Put down the game. I've got to talk to you."

"What is it?" Saien said, turning off the tablet.

"We're in Chinese waters and less than a mile from the coast. I've looked through the periscope; it's pretty crowded with the creatures, at least on the Bohai coast. Anyway, Hourgla.s.s is making landfall tomorrow after the UAVs fly a few reconnaissance sorties."

"Go on," Saien said.

Kil blurted out, "The team lost two men in Hawaii and I think I'm insane enough to be going with them."

"Well, that is a change of heart, is it not? I didn't peg you for the type that takes risk, and this is very, very risky. You would be dead by now if you took chances like this during the lively times we had in America."

"Yeah, there is a chance I might not make it back. Which is why I need you to hold on to something for me."

"And what would that be?"

"My journal. I want Tara to have it, and I don't trust anyone else here with it. There are scribbles about you inside, but I have nothing to hide. Not anything I wouldn't say to your face."

"I'm going to have to decline. I cannot do it," Saien said, br.i.m.m.i.n.g with seriousness.

"But I think it's the least you could-"

"I told you, no. I will see China with you and the others, and we will finish this treacherous chapter in that journal. Together."