ass-full of lead.”
Ben cursed. Lise and little Brendan lived in the family house in Calumet, just inside I-294. He had a plan, an idea of where they could go, but he needed to get them first. They were inside the quarantine. He looked over at the co-pilot suddenly. They had often passed the I-294 on their way to visit the Cook County Forest Preserve.
There was a way past the cordon.
“You know where Wampum Lake is?”
A blank look.
“Never mind, just head for Chicago. It’ll be on the south side of the quar…”
“Got it,” the man cut Ben off, pointing at the nav screen. “Just south of the cordon.”
The Roaches Always Survive
From : Steering23@(withheld).com
To : Oversight23@(withheld).gov ;
CC :
Subject : Decommissioning of Project Chronos
It’s now clear that this project has escaped positive control. Early signs of outbreak are appearing in at least fifteen major population centers around the world and it seems unlikely that the spread will be contained any time soon, if ever.
I urge all committee members to act on the emergency protocols before the expanding military cordons trap you within your cities.
The un-infected population sample aboard our invasion fleet may now be the only hope for Humanity’s future. It will be our duty to provide leadership to the returning stock once this outbreak has run its full course.
Tell your families to expect at least a year in close quarters.
Steering Committee Member 7
Project 23
Chicago
200 feet above Wampum Lake
T hank God! Ben felt a surge of relief. There were canoes at the jetty. They came to a gentle landing on the roadbed, thirty feet from the dock.
“Looks like the troops were loading up over by the 394 cloverleaf.” The co-pilot looked over at Ben. “Might be pulling back to lock down the whole damn city. Bet they’ll keep patrolling the 294 until they’re set up, though.” He got up and stretched as he followed Ben into the back where the ramp was already coming down. “So, what’s the plan?”
Ben took a deep breath. Fresh, cool autumn air, tinged with the musty smell of drying leaves. I hope they’re at home. He nodded down the hill to where the small boats were tethered. “I’m gonna take one of those canoes and paddle down Thorn Creek. It’ll take me under the I-294 and all the way to a street I can follow to my house.” He looked around at the faces. People who trusted him to have a plan. A way out of this mess. “Five, maybe six hundred yards and a couple of fences to jump and I’ll be in my back yard.”
He paused. “It’s a quarter mile on the creek, may have to move slow on the streets… Give me a couple hours at least before you take off.”
“You’ll get all the time you need,” the co-pilot said, taking off his headset and tossing it in the back of his aircraft. “I’m coming with you.”
Ben looked at the man as though he had just sprung up from the ground. “You were trying to kill me a couple of hours ago, and now you want to watch my back?”
“No,” the man answered slowly. “I was carrying the men who wanted to kill you, and it was a mission handed to me by my superiors a few hours ago. All I knew was that I had to fly a team up to the hotel and the regular co-pilot was out with stomach flu.” He held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “I know, that’s not much of a distinction, but I was doing my job as much as any B5 pilot. It was nothing personal, at least on my side of things, and it looks like the government that generated those orders has more to worry about than you, assuming they even exist anymore.”
“A little extreme, don’t you think?” Brown frowned. “It may take extreme measures, but…”
“But what?” the man in black demanded in soft tones. He gestured to the hill behind them. Somewhere beyond, heavy diesel engines were revving to life. “The Army is pulling back, but it won’t help. Do you have any idea how many cities
Learning to Kill: Stories