SurvivorZ: Grave Harbor

31

LLOYD

From the rooftop of the Biological Laboratories building, Lloyd, Denise, and numerous others had box seats to the air force's assault on the dead. Striking hotspots provided by the military's scouts, planes from Hanscom worked in conjunction with B-2s from Whiteman AFB to carpet-bomb whole neighborhoods into ash.

A triumvirate of smoke plumes rose in the still morning air. The bombers devastated the neighborhood to their south, turning Harvard Medical Clinic into a mountain of burning rubble. Similarly, Mount Auburn Hospital burned to the west, while CHA Cambridge fell to the east.

They were only the start of the pummeling that the city would endure before this long day was over. By nightfall, the fires would rekindle the blaze spreading over the city's commercial districts, igniting the eastern sky in an artificial dawn.

Every time the flames spiked, a few soldiers cheered softly. Most everyone else, Lloyd and Denise included, simply watched the surreal exhibition in stunned silence.

"Goddamn," Lloyd whispered breathlessly.

She glanced over at him. He held his swollen stomach and stared at the passing jets with a face as pale as one of their contrails. He woke up feeling nauseous for the second day in a row. Watching Boston burn to the ground wasn't helping his digestion.

"You okay?" she asked.

"I guess. Just can't believe it's come to this."

"I know what you mean. I keep thinking I'm going to wake up any minute in my bunk in Iraq."

The bruise on his ankle itched maddeningly. Lloyd stood on one leg to scratch it, without tearing his gaze from the scene of devastation to the south.

His expression soured. "Some of the men were talking. Word is that they practically had to level Manhattan, Los Angeles, and Washington," he said. "The dead were everywhere. I heard someone in power even toyed with the idea of rolling out the nukes. Can you imagine?"

"Christ. Really?" Denise asked.

Lloyd shrugged. "I'm guessing somebody with an ounce of common sense probably realized that the fallout from their treatment would've been worse than the disease."

"Good thing for us."

Feet pounded up the stairs from the opened rooftop door behind them. The couple glanced over their shoulders at the racket. Corporal Martinez and a few other soldiers rushed onto the roof, looking frantic. While the men scattered to speak to their comrades, Martinez spotted Denise and came straight over.

"Sergeant," she said in a sharp exhale of breath, "Lieutenant Kershaw sent me to find you. You're needed downstairs. We're mobilizing all our forces immediately."

"What's happening?" Denise asked.

"Our lookouts spotted a big herd of slow walkers moving in from the north. Probably drawn this way by the bombing. We're launching a counteroffensive to stop them before they get here. They're even rolling out the tanks."

Denise regarded Lloyd with a face pinched in concern. "I have to go."

"Not without me you're not," he promptly replied.

"Lloyd—"

He pointed at Martinez. "You heard her. It's all hands on deck. I'm not standing idly by while I can still fight."

"He's right, Sarge," Martinez said. "The colonel ordered us to recruit everyone combat-ready for deployment on the front lines. That includes civilians. Only a small detachment are staying behind to protect the camp and those unable to fight."