“That we are.”

Eric was quiet a few moments, fingers drumming on his knee. “This is all very interesting, Captain, but what threat do these marauder groups pose to Hollow Rock? They’d be crazy to attack here.”

“One would think. But according to our intelligence sources, that’s exactly what they intend to do.”

Eric let out a low whistle. “The Alliance’s leadership isn’t completely stupid, Captain. I guarantee you they have people watching this place. They know we have tanks, and helicopters, and heavy artillery, and hundreds of troops.”

“I concur.”

“So how do they expect to win against all that without starting a war?”

Captain Harlow held out his hands, palms up. “That, Mr. Riordan, is the million dollar question.”

ELEVEN

Caleb sat on the concrete floor of the drill hall—a massive pre-fab metal building resembling a small airplane hangar—and listened to the briefing.

An hour after hustling to Fort McCray and being told to wait in the mess hall, Lieutenant Jonas returned from headquarters and ordered them to leave their gear behind and follow him to the drill hall. There, they were ordered to have a seat on the floor and wait for Captain Harlow to arrive. Second and Third Platoons showed up shortly thereafter, followed closely by the Ninth TVM. The sound of a generator roaring to life and the lights coming on overhead preceded the captain’s arrival by five minutes.

The captain greeted his company, then nodded to a sergeant who turned on a projector connected to a laptop. As he often did, Captain Harlow spent an hour droning on about a plan that should have taken no more than five minutes to convey.

In short, First Platoon was being deployed to the border to meet up with special operations forces, designated Task Force Falcon, already in the area. Half of Third Platoon, which was essentially an ad-hoc detachment of tank and helicopter crews, pilots, artillerymen, and mechanics, would go along as support, as well as a few scouts from the Ninth TVM. The other half of Third Platoon, all of Second Platoon, and the remainder of the Ninth TVM would stay behind to defend Hollow Rock.

While his company commander’s briefing method was repetitive and overly detailed, Caleb had to admit it was effective. By the time it was over, every soldier in the room had a clear idea of what lay ahead of them, and what role they were to play. When he was finished, Captain Harlow instructed those troops bound for the border to be ready to deploy in forty eight hours, and then turned them over to their platoon leaders. Lieutenant Jonas held a quick meeting with his squad leaders and instructed them to get their men ready to move out. As they were leaving, Caleb spotted Eric approaching and motioned him over.

“Learn anything?” Caleb asked, keeping his voice low.

“Yeah, lots. But you heard most of it in the ops briefing. The rest I can’t talk about.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. Eric leaned in close. “Look, there’s some serious shit headed our way. All right? Keep your eyes open and your ear to the ground.”

“I always do,” Caleb said. Eric clapped him on the arm as Sgt. Ashman gave the order to march.

As First Platoon exited the gate, Caleb looked back to see Eric staring after them.

*****

“You’re squared away, Hicks,” Thompson said. “See you Tuesday morning.”

“Thanks.”

As he stowed his spare gear in his footlocker, he noticed Thompson staring at him. “Hey,” he said. “Everything all right with you? You’ve been more quiet than usual lately.”

Caleb did not pause in his work. “I’m fine.”

“Listen, man, I’m not talking to you as your squad leader right now. I’m talking to you as your friend. What’s going on with you?”

Caleb looked Thompson in the eye, measuring. Finally, he looked away and said, “Personal things.”

“Miranda?”

Caleb nodded.

“Everything okay between you two?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. It’s me that’s the problem.”

Thompson stepped closer. “Catch up with me when I’m off duty. I’ll buy you a drink. We’ll talk about it.”

“Nothing to talk about, really. Just letting her weigh the baggage.”

The staff sergeant smiled. “Sounds like things are getting serious.”

Caleb shrugged silently and left the barracks.

*****

“So how long do you think you’ll be gone?” Miranda asked. She and Caleb were sitting on her couch with the last fading light of the afternoon slanting in through curtained windows.

“No telling. Could be a couple of weeks, could be more than a month.”

Miranda chewed her lip, absorbing the news. “You’ve been on missions like this one before, right?”

“Yep. Lots of them.”

“You don’t sound worried.”

“That’s because I’m not.”

Miranda smiled and ran a hand down his left cheek, fingers tracing over the splatter of scar tissue there. “You’re not invincible, you know.”

“I know.”

“Then you should be at least a little scared.”

“I’ll save it for when the shooting starts. A healthy measure of fear keeps you sharp; worrying just makes you tired and sloppy. Burns up energy. That’s how people get killed. They lose focus.”

Miranda stared at him with irritation and affection, then slid closer to lay her head on the hollow of his shoulder. “When do you leave?”

“Tuesday morning. 0900.”

“Do you have to report for duty tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “Not until Tuesday morning. Got all my stuff ready earlier. All I have to do is grab it and go.”

She smiled and kissed him on the side of the neck. “So we get to spend the day together?”

“Yep. What do you want to do?”

Miranda sat up on her knees and began unbuttoning her shirt. “I can think of a few things.”

Caleb grinned and pulled her onto his lap.

*****

Later, after the sun set and they had enjoyed a shower together, Miranda lit a few candles in her bedroom and she and Caleb lay entwined in the soft light, their faces almost touching. “So you left off with the men who attacked Lauren,” she said.

Caleb waited a few heartbeats to answer. “Yeah.”

“What happened next?”

He pushed a lock of blonde hair behind Miranda’s ear and let out a heavy sigh. “Had to come up sooner or later, didn’t it?”

“It’s all right if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“No. It needs to be said. Full disclosure and all that.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll warn you again: you might not like what you’re going to hear.”

Miranda kissed his lips and then the tip of his nose. “I’ll take my chances.”

TWELVE

 

Houston Metro Area, Texas

Lauren was never the same again after the attack. The next year was a bad one for us all.

She lost weight. She had nightmares. The lines of her face deepened, and dark rings took up permanent residence under her eyes. Little sounds made her jumpy. She got a conceal and carry license and wouldn’t leave the house unarmed. Dad tried to convince her to start seeing a therapist, but she was having none of it. She insisted she was fine, though it was plain for anyone to see she wasn’t. There were cracks in her foundation.

Then came the Outbreak.

I remember exactly where I was that day. I had just turned eighteen and had finished school a few months early. We were out on the patio eating a steak dinner to celebrate when my dad’s cell phone rang. He picked it up, checked who was calling, and answered.

“What’s up, Blake?”

I watched his face grow confused, then disbelieving, then tight with strain. “How bad is it?” he asked.

That got Lauren’s attention. We sat still, the two of us, watching him intently.

“Okay. I’ll do that. No, not yet. If it comes to that, we’ll communicate via radio. All right, see you soon.” Dad hung up and sat quietly, staring into nowhere.

“What is it?” Lauren asked, eyes worried.