The City of Mirrors Page 138

“Let’s check some of the other buildings,” Peter said.

They entered the nearest house. It was one story, with two rooms. Dirty dishes were stacked on a table; flies twisted above them in the air. In the back room was a washbasin on a stand, a wardrobe, and large feather bed covered by a quilt. The bed was sturdy and carefully made, with a tableau of interlocking flowers, quite detailed, carved into the headboard; somebody had taken their time with it. A marriage bed, thought Peter.

But where were the people? What had happened that the inhabitants should vanish before they had a chance to clear the dirty dishes from the table? Peter and Michael returned to the main room as Greer came through the door.

“What’s the holdup?”

“The telegraph’s not working,” Michael said.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Break in the line someplace.”

Greer leveled his eyes at Peter. “We really have to get moving.”

What weren’t they seeing? What was this haunted place trying to tell him? Peter’s eyes fell upon something on the floor.

“Peter, did you hear me?” Greer pressed. “If we’re going to make it back before dark, we need to leave right now.”

Peter crouched to get a closer look, simultaneously gesturing toward the table. “Hand me that dishrag.”

Using a corner of the cloth, he took hold of the object. The virals’ teeth had a way of catching the light, almost prismatic, with a pearlescent, milky luster. The tip was so sharp it seemed to fade into invisibility, too small for the naked eye to discern.

“I don’t think Zero’s sending an army,” Peter said.

“Then what’s he doing?” Michael asked.

Peter looked at Greer; the older man’s expression said he thought the same.

“I think he’s growing one.”

* * *

57

By the time the convoy reached Kerrville, it was nearly seven o’clock. The group disembarked into a state of siege. Along the top of the wall, soldiers were scurrying back and forth, handing out magazines and other gear. Fifty-caliber machine guns were positioned on either side of the gate. Apgar had exited the cab and was standing with Ford Chase, pointing at one of the spotlights. As Chase moved away, Caleb stepped up.

“General, I’d like my commission back.”

Apgar frowned. “I have to say, that’s a first. Nobody ever asks to get back in the Army.”

“You can bust me to private—I don’t care.”

The general looked past Caleb’s shoulder toward Pim, who was standing with Sara and the children.

“You clear this with your CO?”

“I’d be lying if I said she was happy about it. But she gets it. She lost her sister last night.”

Apgar beckoned to a noncom manning the gates. “Sergeant, take this man to the armory and get him suited up. One brass bar.”

“Thank you, General,” said Caleb.

“You may rethink that later. And your old man’s going to have my ass for this.”

“Have we heard anything?”

Apgar shook his head. “Try not to worry, son. He’s been through worse than this. Report to Colonel Henneman on the platform. He’ll tell you where to go.”

Caleb went to Pim and hugged her. He placed his palm against the curve of her belly, then kissed Theo on the forehead.

Be careful, she signed.

“We’re going to the hospital,” Sara said. “There’s a hardbox in the basement. We’re moving the patients down there.”

The sergeant shifted impatiently on his feet. “Sir, we’d better go.”

Caleb looked at his family a final time. He felt a gap widening, as if he were viewing them from the end of a lengthening tunnel.

I love you, Pim signed.

I love you, too.

He jogged away.

From Boerne, Greer took the wheel. They were driving into the sun now. Michael was in the passenger seat, Peter in the back with Amy.

They saw no other vehicles, no signs of life at all. The world seemed dead, an alien landscape. The shadows of the hills were lengthening; evening was coming on. Greer, squinting into the harsh light, wore a look of great intensity—his arms and back rigid as wood, his fingers clenching the wheel. Peter saw the muscles of his jaw bunching; the man was grinding his teeth.

They passed through Comfort. The ruins of ancient buildings—restaurants, gas stations, hotels—lined the highway, sand-scoured and scavenged to the bones. They came to the settlement on the west side of the city, away from the wreckage of the old world. Like Boerne, the town was abandoned; they didn’t stop.

Fifteen miles to go.

Sara and the others met Jenny at the door to the hospital. The woman was on the verge of wild-eyed panic.

“What’s going on? There are soldiers everywhere. A Humvee just rolled by with a bullhorn, telling everybody to take shelter.”

“There’s an attack coming. We have to get these people to the basement. How many patients are on the wards?”

“What do you mean, an attack?”

“I mean virals, Jenny.”

The woman blanched but said nothing.

“Listen to me.” Sara took Jenny’s hands and made the woman look at her. “We don’t have a lot of time here. How many?”

Jenny gave her head a little shake, as if trying to focus her thoughts. “Fifteen?”

“Any children?”

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