CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Multiple behavioral studies indicate the alphas will remain highly aggressive despite any alternate treatment methods. As it was with primate test subjects in the past who exhibited similar behavior and mannerisms, the most humane treatment we can offer at this point is euthanasia and postmortem study.”
—Lecture part of “Grad 725—Research Methods for the Infected” by Dr. Tedd Roberts,
University of the South, 2047
The first thing we had to plan out was the logistics of rescuing the governor. Basically, how we were going to move almost a dozen people up onto the mountain without getting spotted by King Dale.
The BearCat had plenty of fuel left, thanks to some of the survivors bringing in cans of fuel they’d salvaged from various buildings. Surprisingly, very little of it was contaminated with water. There were one or two cans that would have been better qualified as sludge than gasoline, but there was enough to top the beast off. It would make the run to where the governor was and back with plenty to spare.
Since we had Temple’s sealed cans of gas as well, Sister Ann decided to bring them along for the ride. Not for the BearCat, though. The cans would be for any vehicles the governor might have.
“There’s no way we’re getting that many people in the BearCat, not with those gas cans and ammo,” Sister Ann explained as we planned what she had dubbed “Operation Thunder Run.” She looked at all of us gathered around the table. “They’re going to have vehicles of their own. They get to use them. We’re the tip of the spear, and they follow us.”
“So we’re the tip, and they’re the shaft?” Rohena asked coquettishly. Sister Ann raised a single eyebrow precisely one centimeter in response. Rohena shut up so fast I could have sworn I heard her jaw click. The twins giggled at the joke. Sister Ann’s ire turned on them almost as fast.
“Neither of you should be able to understand that reference.”
“Wasn’t me,” I declared immediately, not wanting to get blamed for this. A chorus of denials from everyone else followed. Apparently the twins had simply been born with the knowledge of dirty in-jokes and references, because by the end of it not a single person in the room admitted to jack squat. Sister Ann sighed in defeat, a rare victory for us.
Teamwork makes the dream work.
Following Sister Ann’s advice, I let Lucia load us up for supplies. Officer Atkins had said that everyone at Deer Creek was in relative good health, but they’d left a week ago and things could change. Their food situation was also worse than ours, so we packed any extra protein we could spare. She also grabbed some of the precious ginger ale from Temple’s room, a sugary pick-me-up for added boost. It wasn’t much, but better than nothing.
Plus, if they hadn’t been eating much, the ginger ale would be easier on their systems.
Next, it was up to me to decide who was going. After discussing this with Sister Ann, I realized they needed to come from the student council. If the other girls were going to be advisors and stuff like that for me, then they needed to have skin in the game as well. This meant going down the mountain and, potentially, into danger.
Lucia was a given, and the most obvious choice. Besides Sister Ann and me, she was the only other one who had experience driving the BearCat. She also wanted to go, an added benefit. Since she’d done so well when we’d stolen the BearCat together months ago, and had been there when we recruited Dr. Brittany, she knew what to expect should we run into King Dale again.
Which meant nothing when Sister Ann decided she needed to stay behind. There was no way we could afford to put our logistics person out into danger. Plus, Lucia was the next choice to run the campus if I didn’t come back. Ulla listened to her, which was a nice bonus. Emily was also out. She was the only person on campus who knew how everything mechanical worked. There was a new, older man on campus who’d survived with his son, both of whom knew car engines. However, they were still reading up on how Emily had rigged everything to work and trying to figure it out. We couldn’t risk losing her just yet—ever, if I was being honest.
Finlay and Fiona were out for multiple reasons. The most obvious one was that they had only just recently turned twelve and were definitely too young for this. Finlay complained more about that than Fiona, but neither of them was happy about being left behind. While I valued their minds and skill sets, there was no way I was going to put girls that young into harm’s way. To assuage their hurt feelings, I let them know privately that I had a different job for them.
“You still have some of that Tannerite, right?” I asked them when we had a moment of quiet together. Their eyes widened in surprise. And maybe an uncomfortable amount of excitement. There was no way for me to be certain but at least I had an answer to my question. “How much?”
“A lot,” Finlay replied.
“Two hundred pounds,” Fiona added.
I blinked. That was way more that I’d thought possible. “Where the heck did you find all that?”
The twins shared a look before shrugging simultaneously. “Around,” they both said.
It wasn’t worth the effort to question them further. “Screw it. I don’t want to know. Do you think it would be enough to clear a path?”
“You want us to walk down to where King Dale built that barricade?” Fiona asked, surprised. I nodded.
“Not necessarily walk, but yes. Lucia can drive you both down in the four-wheeler. Carefully.”
“It would take half of what we have to blow up that barricade,” Finlay said as she scratched at her tiny mole. I could tell she was already planning, the wheels in her mind turning rapidly. My stomach flip-flopped uneasily. I kept having to remind myself that they were on our side to keep from breaking into a cold sweat. “That’s a really big truck, and loads of pallets and stuff.”
“But you can do it?” I pressed.
“Uh . . .” They quickly started whispering to one another, using their made-up language. It was like watching two mad scientists decide if they were cooking up alchemy first, or building Frankenstein’s monster. Rather fascinating, and simultaneously terrifying. After a few moments they stopped talking. Both were . . . I wouldn’t call it smiling, not really. Well, if you could say a shark smiles, then yes, they were actually smiling.
Completely unnerving. The sweat started anyway, in spite of my mental reinforcements. There was just something about the way their minds worked that freaked me out.
“Yeah, we can do it,” Fiona stated, sounding rather confident.
“Just don’t blame us if the road isn’t as smooth after,” Finlay added.
I gave them the radio code words that we’d use if everything went smoothly. “Once you hear that, blow it and get out of there. Don’t wait around. Even if the path isn’t perfect, it just needs to be cleared.”
“Will King Dale have guards at the barricade?” Finlay asked.
“He didn’t the last two times I was down there,” I told them, thinking back. I hadn’t seen anybody there, but that didn’t mean there weren’t. “So unlikely. But if you see someone, just pick up the radio and say something about the color red—cardinals in the bush, cherries on a tree, whatever. After you blow it up, call in something about the color green. ‘Frogs are hopping,’ I don’t care.”
“Oooh, we’re like spies now!” Fiona clapped her hands, clearly excited. I tried not to roll my eyes.
“You’re like demolition experts stuck behind enemy lines,” I corrected. “The French Resistance in World War Two. King Dale’s men, if they’re there, will try to stop you, or take you away. So don’t get caught.”
That sobered them right up. They remembered the man who’d tried to grab Ulla. “We won’t,” Fiona said.
“All right. I’m trusting you, so don’t let me down, okay?”
“Okay,” they agreed.
It came down to whether it would be Kayla or Rohena going with us. I wanted to pick Rohena, but Sister Ann changed my mind after she pointed out something I hadn’t thought of.
“Bring Kayla,” she told me after I explained who my picks were going to be. Seeing the look on my face, she explained. “The colonel is from Saint Martin island, in the Caribbean. French West Indies. Her family emigrated here when she was eight. Seeing Kayla would make her a little more trustworthy of our intentions. Even if she does recognize me.”
“But why . . . ?” I paused before it clicked. “You want Kayla because she’s black?”
“To put it bluntly.” Sister Ann nodded. “Look around us, Maddie. You see many African-Americans around here? Before the Fall, maybe ten percent of the population up here would qualify as such. I only saw two black men with King Dale during our little standoff. The colonel will see a friendly face in Kayla, and this will set her at ease enough to let me get close enough so she’ll recognize me. Unless she recognizes me already, even after all these years. Kayla also knows seeds and plants. If the colonel has anything worth taking, she’d recognize them.”
“That’s . . .” I paused before shaking my head. “That’s messed up, ma’am. With that mindset, it’s either Kayla, Dr. Brittany, or Dee. Dr. Brittany won’t go, and I would rather keep her up here anyway. And I’m not bringing Dee. She’s, like, twelve.”
“Thirteen, but I agree. So bring Kayla.”
“You know she’s more valuable to us than Rohena is, right?” I whispered, looking around. I didn’t want anyone else to hear. “Kayla actually does a good job with the garden, and studies to get better at it. Rohena is . . . less . . . I don’t know what the right word is.”
“Rohena has less ‘communal worth’ is what you’re trying to say,” Sister Ann said in a gentle voice. “‘Lazy butt,’ the less kind would state. But she might have found her way with Dr. Jefferson. Don’t forget what we’re trying to build up here, Maddie. Communal worth only carries so much weight. Rohena is physically strong and capable for a girl her age. She’ll find her niche. Just be patient with her. That spark in her will catch, if it hasn’t already. I know it. In the meantime, Kayla comes with.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
There was one final task I needed to prepare for before we set out. Unfortunately, it was going to piss someone off—big time. I needed to make sure the campus was protected while we were gone. This meant leaving my most reliable person behind with our only medical person—which really upset Ulla.
I want to come with you, Ulla signed at me after I’d told her the news. Dr. Brittany had no issues with remaining behind, though she did point out that King Dale could attack the school while we were out. However, since he’d made no move after Colton was chased off, the odds of him choosing the exact moment we were out was not high. Still, the possibility was there, so Lucia would block the small bridge leading up the road to the mountaintop with one of the spare cars left over on campus. It wasn’t one that ran, so gravity and coasting it down the hill would be the most dangerous part. Still, once it was at the bridge, the plan was to slash the tires and it would block the path. Good luck getting something past that.
None of this calmed Ulla down, though. It was plain to see how upset she was. Not that I blamed her in the least. She was far and away a better shot than me. Except . . .
“I need you to stay here and keep everyone safe,” I told her, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. There was no way I was going to place her in any sort of danger. I tried to think of something Sister Ann might say in a situation like this. “You’re the only person I trust with protecting all the others while I’m gone. You can do it.”
But what if I can’t? she signed hesitantly.
“I know you can,” I told her. “You were the only one Sister Ann suggested to help me out. Did I ever tell you that?”
She shook her head.
“Out of all the girls on campus, Sister Ann said you were the best to help me shoot the shamblers,” I told her, surprised that I hadn’t said anything about my conversation with Sister Ann before. For some reason it’d just slipped my mind. “You saved my life, too. Remember? You killed that shambler that was trying to eat me?”
Are you going to be able to shoot without me? she asked, deflecting the praise.
I nodded. “I have to. If the governor is safe and alive like Officer Atkins says, then I’ll have to protect her until we get back to campus. If that means shooting shamblers, then I’ll have to.”
I can shoot them, too. Her signing was growing more emphatic by the moment. Ulla was pissed about not going with us, and was doing a poor job of hiding it. Or maybe that was the point?
“I know. Which is why I’m trusting you to stay here and shoot any who might come up the mountain while we’re gone.”
You’ll come back, right?
“I promise,” I told her. “You’ll keep them safe for me, yeah?”
I’ll try, Ulla signed, uncertainty on her young face. It took me aback a little. Sometimes I forgot just how young we seniors really were, and how much younger girls like the twins and Ulla were.
“I know you will. Just try your best. Don’t worry about failing, or dwell on it. Just keep going if you do,” I told her. The second the words were out of my mouth, it hit me. Sister Margaret’s words: Try your best, and rise above the rest. Of course. Rise above the fear of failure, not rise above other people and be better than them. Deep down, she’d been trying to tell me to not let my fear of failure prevent me from trusting someone explicitly again.
She’d known my past better than any of the other nuns at St. Dominic’s, even better than Sister Ann. Sister Margaret had known a lot of my fears stemmed from being viewed as a failure, of what had happened to me with my ex-boyfriend. She’d seen, before anyone else, that I could do better. Time and time again she’d just tell me to try my best and rise above the rest. I’d completely misunderstood her and, because I’d been afraid of looking stupid in front of the others, I’d never asked for an explanation.
Deep down, I’d been afraid. Of course it took a zombie apocalypse to shove my fear of failure down and rise up to be the woman everyone else said I could be, and to open myself up again to really trust someone without reservations.
I trusted Ulla, and she trusted me. She was my sister, not by blood but by choice. All the girls up here were. This was my family now.
I would try my best to be the sister they needed.
I chuckled, then hugged Ulla tightly. “Be safe, kid. We’ll be back. Just keep everyone safe until then, okay? You can do this. I have faith in you.”
She only squeezed me tighter. That was enough.
Rich Patch Road was a long and winding path through the mountains toward Eagle Rock. It wasn’t really anything special, but it did allow us to sneak around Clifton Forge to get to Deer Creek, where the governor was holed up. It was also free from any parked or ruined cars, and shamblers, but because it was a county road almost all the way, it was in rough shape. It was also a long trip and caused us to burn through almost half of the diesel in the tank. So overall, I’d call it a mixed bag.
We left just before dawn, which meant the sun would just be rising by the time we came out of Rich Patch. After passing Eagle Rock and turning north on U.S. 220, there was only a single bridge we had to cross before it turned into a straight shot to Deer Creek. I hadn’t known about the bridge—it’s not like I ever came down this way—but Temple knew the way and warned us ahead of time that it might be washed out. However, we were lucky. The wave that had nearly drowned Covington and probably Clifton Forge with it hadn’t taken it out.
220 wasn’t as long of a journey as Rich Patch Road had been, but it was challenging. Lots of cars were dotted along the roadside, with plenty of corpses spread around. Once we spotted a hunter pack of shamblers, but they were too weak and slow to keep up with the BearCat and we left them in the dust. I wanted to shoot them but Sister Ann stopped me. There was no need to waste ammo. There was a bigger threat ahead.
I let Temple ride up front with Sister Ann. He knew the way so it made sense for him to be up there. Kayla and I were crammed in the back with all the supplies, which included some of the precious penicillin with instructions from Dr. Brittany on how much to give the governor’s sick daughter.
To get on to the road for Deer Creek, we had to turn off 220 right before the head of the James River. It was a dark, winding road that was almost as terrifying as the drive through Rich Patch had been. There was something about rural western Virginia that reminded me of old horror movies—only with more meth and trailer parks.
The morning was bright and cheerful when we finally found the proper driveway. The house was well hidden and off the road by a mile. Sister Ann took the turn slowly, driving up the steep, winding driveway with the lights on. While I understood her reasoning, I disagreed with it. Anyone in the house on the lookout—and I knew there would be, because we had lookouts back on campus—would spot us long before we got too close, and probably shoot at us. Sister Ann, though, seemed rather calm.
“They going to shoot us?” I asked as I leaned over the center console from the back. I noticed Temple was gripping the handle of the door tightly, and he was starting to sweat a little. “You okay, Temple?”
“I . . . think so?”
It did not sound like the voice of a confident man speaking. This did absolutely nothing to calm my nerves. I coughed and glanced at Sister Ann. “Sister?”
“Hmm . . . yes, I think this spot will do nicely,” she said and brought the BearCat to a halt. The engine idled for a moment before she killed it. Without the familiar rumble of the engine it was eerily silent.
“Why this spot?” I asked her, swallowing nervously. My mouth had been dry before but now it felt like my entire throat was ready to close. “This seems like a very bad spot. Out in the open, no trees we can hide behind if we get shot at . . .”
“That’s precisely why it’s a good spot,” she countered cheerily. “It shows them that we’re not a threat to them. Plus, Officer Atkins gave me their security protocol. Parking in this spot, according to him, is the first step to the process.”
“It also could be showing them that we’re really, really stupid,” I muttered.
“Nonsense. Kayla? Madison? Are you girls ready?”
“I don’t know why I agreed to this,” Kayla muttered as she crawled forward. “Or why we have to wear this stupid outfit again.”
“The uniforms are a sort of armor. We’re wearing them to keep us alive,” Sister Ann reiterated for the fifth time since we left the campus. I scratched at the shirt—I hadn’t worn the uniform since that fateful day down by the river when we first discovered the existence of King Dale—and wondered why it was tighter than I remembered. Then again, I’d been wearing loose, baggy shirts for the past six months, so going back to the more form-fitting dress shirt was an abrupt change.
Sister Ann, meanwhile, was wearing her full habit. She looked positively regal in the driver’s seat, with her hair hidden away. It wasn’t what I would have worn going into a potentially hostile environment. Then again, I wouldn’t have brought two recent high school graduates in their school uniforms to meet the governor of Virginia.
“You’d think a nun wearing her full habit would be enough,” Kayla continued to complain as she reached my seat. She looked at me and made a face. “Your shirt is almost out of uniform.”
“I think it shrunk or something,” I replied and shrugged. It was definitely tighter in the shoulders than I remembered. “Come on. Ready to get shot at?”
“Not funny!” Kayla snapped.
“Madison!” Sister Ann turned in her seat and glared at me. Even in the dark I could see just how irritated she was. Her frown created a crease in her forehead. “That was uncalled for.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Kayla? Relax. If you go out there a bundle of nerves, someone is going to think you’re here against your will.”
“But I am!”
“No, you’re not,” I argued. “Well, not exactly.”
“Girls,” Temple rumbled from the front seat. “I’m old, I’m sore, and this was not a gentle ride for these old bones. Quit bickering and let them know we’re not here for a fight so I can stretch out and then die in peace.”
“You didn’t give me a choice,” Kayla hissed angrily at me.
“Yeah, I did. You just didn’t like the other option.”
“I was not about to go supervise the twins while they blew something up!”
“Whine, whine . . . would it make you feel better if I went first?” I offered as a gesture of peace. She glowered for a moment.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Welcoming party,” Temple warned, jerking a chin toward the large house. Sister Ann followed his gesture and spotted the guards immediately. She slowly nodded and rolled down her window.
“Keys are being tossed out the window,” she announced loudly and proceeded to do just that. She stuck her left hand out. “I’m using my right hand to open the door. I am a friend of your Uncle Morris. Once I exit the vehicle, I will turn and walk backward ten steps from it with my hands raised above my head. Just like Aunt Judy did. I will then stop and interlace my fingers behind my head. Unfortunately, I will not be kneeling in this mud, which is what Cousin Tanya did. You will then speak with Temple Kessenger, a local man, and you will ascertain that we come in peace, and to help. In the back are two teenage girls and supplies. Tell the governor that help has arrived.”
Kayla and I shared a look.
“Sounds like you’ve done this before,” Temple muttered quietly.
“Al Asad,” she explained without explaining. “We had to practice a lot there. I’m a bit rusty, though. Did I get the order correct?”
“Close enough to get the message across,” he said, nodding as Sister Ann slowly opened the door. “Protocols sounded just like what Officer Atkins told us they would be.”
“Girls? Wait until they either accept the passcode, or they tell us to leave and never come back.”
I swallowed nervously. My fingers tightened on Baby’s grip. Was that a possibility? Officer Atkins had told us before leaving campus that these men protecting the governor had walked through a war zone before getting to their extraction vehicles. There was no telling what they were thinking, looking at an armored vehicle with a nun behind the wheel.
“My name is Temple Kessenger,” he called out from the passenger seat, both his hands out the window as well. “Officer Scott Atkins of the Virginia State Police told me to relay that the redoubt is green, Rafe, but the overall situation is yellow, bordering on red. Password is the Crawfords of Pittsburgh.”
“How . . . Where’s Scott and David?” a voice called out from nearby. Without windows in the back of the BearCat, I really couldn’t see much except for what was directly in front of us.
Sister Ann and Temple both exited the vehicle slowly, exactly as they said they would.
“Officer Pew was wounded,” Temple called out as he proceeded to walk around the front of the BearCat, his hands in the air. “Both of them found us up on the mountain. Officer Atkins remained behind with his injured companion.” He turned around and proceeded to slowly walk backward until he was beside Sister Ann.
“Governor Lenity-Jones? Colonel? Ma’am? My name is Sister Ann Constance,” she announced loud enough to be easily heard by those in the house. “You might remember me as—”
“Wait. I would never forget that voice. Gunny Towers? TNT?” a woman’s voice called from inside the front door. Next to me, Sister Ann sighed. I gave her a quizzical look. She ignored me, so I leaned back. More than likely she’d fill me in later. Maybe.
“I go by Sister Ann Constance. I am a member of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur now, ma’am,” she replied calmly, though there was something off in her voice. Something about being called gunny had set Sister Ann on edge. “But before my vows, yes. Gunnery Sergeant Tabitha N. Towers, Colonel, reporting as ordered.”
“I can’t believe it. Holy sh—uh, wow. You survived! Stand down! Rafe, Sammie, they’re friendlies!” The woman’s tone was commanding, clearly used to both giving orders and receiving them.
“But Madame Governor . . .”
“No buts, Rafe. Friendlies.”
Two armed men appeared from the edges of the house. A third came out from a cluster of trees directly in front of us. Even out in the open, his hunting gear continued to help him blend in to the backdrop. Immense jealousy washed over me. There would be no way a shambler could spot me if I was wearing something that nice.
I looked over at Kalya and adjusted Baby’s sling across my back. This was far more comfortable than in the ready position. “I think that’s our cue.”
“Wait. I think—” Kayla started to protest, but I was already opening the back door of the BearCat and climbing down . . .
. . . and I was almost shot for my troubles as a fourth person I hadn’t even suspected was behind us had a handgun pointed directly at my face.
“Gun! Gun!” she screamed.
Two things saved my life in that moment. The first was the fact that even though her firearm was aimed directly at my nose, the woman was staring at my school uniform in utter confusion. The second was that Baby was slung across my back and not in any ready position whatsoever.
“Friendly!” I shrieked and held my hands up. There might have been a little pee involved as well. “I’m with the nun!”
“Drop your weapon!”
“I can’t! It’s on my back!”
“Drop your weapon or I will fire!”
“I can’t!”
“Stand down!” Sister Ann’s voice cracked like a whip through the air. It was a tone I’d never heard her use before, and I hoped to God I would never hear again.
Everyone froze. The woman with the gun in my face must have had the same reaction I did because she immediately lowered the handgun and directed the barrel away from me. I stayed in place, hands in the air. Kayla, who apparently had been right behind me, slowly climbed out as well.
“Can I put my arms down?” I asked. The woman with the gun not quite pointed directly at me gave the slightest of nods.
“Uh . . .” The security woman looked at me. Or, more accurately, at Baby. “You mind putting your weapon in the corner over there?”
“Baby? My AR? Nobody puts Baby in a corner.”
The woman actually laughed. It was definitely better than being shot by an overzealous security agent. “How long you been waiting to use that line?” she asked.
“Line?” I asked, confused. I had no idea what she was talking about. The woman’s face softened.
“Oh, my God . . . Child, how old are you?”
“Madison? Kayla?” Sister Ann called out. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I responded immediately. Looking at the other woman, I cocked my head questioningly.
“Yeah, we’re good. Sorry about . . . you know,” she said, as she holstered her weapon. There was an awkward pause as Kayla and I both eyed her a little suspiciously. Sticking out her hand, she introduced herself. “I’m Violet Flores, Virginia State Police . . . uh, cadet.”
“Cadet?” I asked, surprised. She looked much older than me.
“Yeah. I’d just started when the flu hit,” she answered with a shrug. She sounded a little embarrassed about this for some reason. “I was the only one in my class who didn’t turn. That was . . . ugly. Got picked up by the governor when they were on their way out and . . . well, this is much better than being stuck in Richmond.”
“I bet,” I said, remembering the chaotic day when the campus had been almost completely overrun by the dozens of recently turned shamblers. It’d been far worse in the bigger cities like Richmond and Charlottesville.
“Yeah. Seriously, sorry about reacting like that,” she repeated. “It’s just . . . you’re the first vehicle we’d seen in months.”
“I get it. I run security up at St. Dominic’s, so every new thing might be a threat.”
“You? Security?”
“I’m older than I look,” I told her.
“Girls,” Sister Ann called out again.
“Time to go meet the governor,” I muttered. Kayla shot me a nervous grin.
“She’s really nice,” Violet said as she led us around the BearCat and toward Sister Ann and Temple. Violet looked at Temple for a moment before turning back to me. “Your grandpa?”
“Ah . . . no. He knew the back roads to get here.”
In front of the large house, Sister Ann was hugging a tall woman wearing some sort of uniform. It took me a moment to realize it was a mashup of various hunting camouflages and not a uniform at all.
“It’s good to see that you’re in charge of things still, Gunny,” the woman—the governor of Virginia, presumably—said as we approached. Clearly they knew each other well, but other than telling us she’d served with the governor once upon a time, I hadn’t known precisely how well. The governor glanced at me before continuing to speak. “It gives me hope that things might actually work out.”
“Oh, I’m not in charge here,” Sister Ann chuckled as the governor released her. Stepping back, Sister Ann motioned for me to come closer. I approached carefully. Her security team clearly did not like the idea of anyone with a weapon near their governor. Fortunately, they either decided I knew how to handle my weapon and were calmed, or fully believed they could take me out before I could swing the AR off my back and lift the barrel more than a few inches. “This is Madison Coryell. She’s the president of the student council at St. Dominic’s Preparatory School for Girls. She calls the shots on campus now. She’s done an amazing job at keeping the infected away from campus.”
“You always did like finding promising young officers and making their careers flourish. You did that for me, and dozens of others,” the other woman said as she stuck her hand out to me. Cautiously, and uncertain about protocol, I accepted and shook hands. “Madison, huh? Named after the president?”
“I, uh, don’t know, ma’am.”
The governor turned and winked at Sister Ann. “You’re too good at this, Gunny. Honest and respectful. She’s, what, fifteen? Sixteen?”
“Eighteen, ma’am,” I answered, looking down at my feet. Suddenly I was feeling very self-conscious for some reason. “Being short and skinny confuses people.”
“Hate it now, Ms. Coryell. Love it when you reach your forties.”
I had nothing for that. Sister Ann smiled at the governor.
“Colonel, if you don’t mind . . . can we talk more inside? The security situation around here isn’t the best,” she suggested. After a moment it was clear that the governor was used to hearing her “suggestions” because she immediately nodded.
“Of course, Gunny. Let’s get you and your group inside and figure things out.”
“Figure things out, ma’am?” I scoffed, feeling a little more like myself now that nobody was sticking a gun in my face. “I don’t think we have enough time in the world for that.”