jacket again. It took all of his strength not to follow her as she spun on her heel and returned to the building. Instead, he stared at the flakes of ash settling on the tightly packed earth and felt his stomach flip-flop. Not with nerves—Zettel didn’t get nervous—but with anticipation.
So close.
But not for a few more hours.
He flicked his earpiece back on. Composed his features. Resumed walking the perimeter of the fence.
Zettel was so distracted by the heady, dizzying sense of impending victory that he didn’t feel the tingle at the back of his neck until it was almost too late.
A pale flash caught the corner of his eye—too far to the south to be a guard at the nearest watchtower.
He froze, watching for another hint of motion.
The night was still.
Scanning the compound’s exterior, he took inventory of everything that was meant to be there: spotlights focused on the outside of the warehouse, a man patrolling the opposite fence in the same black uniform he wore, the waiting SUV that had been left with the driver’s side door open.
All quiet. Unremarkable.
Unease crawled over him. Zettel wasn’t skittish, and he didn’t imagine things. Especially not people that weren’t there.
He picked up his pace and headed toward the SUV, putting two fingers to the bluetooth headset in his ear. His excitement was suppressed by a rising sensation of something gone awry. “Mack? Anything registering on the pressure sensors?”
A buzz, and then, “ Just you and Mason. ”
There were shadows on the ground on the other side of the SUV—two dark shapes that looked like feet.
“What’s Mason’s position?” he asked, lowering his voice to a whisper.
Another buzz. “ Northeast corner. ”
Nowhere near the SUV.
Zettel lifted his gun. “Suspected intruder by the garage. I’m going to engage. Verify reinforcements.”
“ Negative, Gary. There’s nothing with you. ”
Then who was standing on the other side of the SUV?
He stood by the hood for a moment, taking measured breaths and preparing to engage. His pulse thudded in his throat and temples.
Zettel leapt around the vehicle and brought his weapon to bear.
Nobody was there.
The ground was empty, and the door stood open. There was no sign of what had caused the shadows. The earpiece was buzzing again, and he put his fingers to it to hear the transmission. “ I repeat, Gary: do not engage. There’s nothing there .”
He pushed the talk button. “Roger.”
Zettel scanned the door into the garage, the open land, the total absence of unusual shadows. He wasn’t the kind of person who imagined things, but maybe the stress of surviving the apocalypse was starting to get to him. Just a little bit.
Lowering his sidearm, he put a hand on the SUV’s driver’s side door to shut it.
A blinking blue light caught his eye. Whoever had driven the vehicle last had removed their earpiece and forgotten it in the cup holder. That was the kind of laziness that their new commander, Malcolm, was letting the unit get away with. When Zettel had been in charge of the unit, he would have brought swift, harsh retribution upon whoever was stupid enough to lose their equipment.
But Zettel wasn’t in charge anymore—for the time being.
Muttering a few choice swear words, he leaned in to grab the earpiece.
Black eyes stared at him from the backseat.
Adrenaline rushed through him, slowing time to a crawl and making his vision sharpen. Zettel took a step back. Reached for his gun.
He couldn’t move fast enough.
A white flash rushed through the air and connected with his chest. They both hit the ground. His head bounced, blurring his vision and making his ears ring.
The sensitive wiring in the ground should have registered someone sitting on top of him and made his earpiece blow up with chatter. He could see her—pale face, black eyes, black hair, lips peeled back in a grimace. He could certainly feel her, with her hands digging into his vest and knees pressing
So close.
But not for a few more hours.
He flicked his earpiece back on. Composed his features. Resumed walking the perimeter of the fence.
Zettel was so distracted by the heady, dizzying sense of impending victory that he didn’t feel the tingle at the back of his neck until it was almost too late.
A pale flash caught the corner of his eye—too far to the south to be a guard at the nearest watchtower.
He froze, watching for another hint of motion.
The night was still.
Scanning the compound’s exterior, he took inventory of everything that was meant to be there: spotlights focused on the outside of the warehouse, a man patrolling the opposite fence in the same black uniform he wore, the waiting SUV that had been left with the driver’s side door open.
All quiet. Unremarkable.
Unease crawled over him. Zettel wasn’t skittish, and he didn’t imagine things. Especially not people that weren’t there.
He picked up his pace and headed toward the SUV, putting two fingers to the bluetooth headset in his ear. His excitement was suppressed by a rising sensation of something gone awry. “Mack? Anything registering on the pressure sensors?”
A buzz, and then, “ Just you and Mason. ”
There were shadows on the ground on the other side of the SUV—two dark shapes that looked like feet.
“What’s Mason’s position?” he asked, lowering his voice to a whisper.
Another buzz. “ Northeast corner. ”
Nowhere near the SUV.
Zettel lifted his gun. “Suspected intruder by the garage. I’m going to engage. Verify reinforcements.”
“ Negative, Gary. There’s nothing with you. ”
Then who was standing on the other side of the SUV?
He stood by the hood for a moment, taking measured breaths and preparing to engage. His pulse thudded in his throat and temples.
Zettel leapt around the vehicle and brought his weapon to bear.
Nobody was there.
The ground was empty, and the door stood open. There was no sign of what had caused the shadows. The earpiece was buzzing again, and he put his fingers to it to hear the transmission. “ I repeat, Gary: do not engage. There’s nothing there .”
He pushed the talk button. “Roger.”
Zettel scanned the door into the garage, the open land, the total absence of unusual shadows. He wasn’t the kind of person who imagined things, but maybe the stress of surviving the apocalypse was starting to get to him. Just a little bit.
Lowering his sidearm, he put a hand on the SUV’s driver’s side door to shut it.
A blinking blue light caught his eye. Whoever had driven the vehicle last had removed their earpiece and forgotten it in the cup holder. That was the kind of laziness that their new commander, Malcolm, was letting the unit get away with. When Zettel had been in charge of the unit, he would have brought swift, harsh retribution upon whoever was stupid enough to lose their equipment.
But Zettel wasn’t in charge anymore—for the time being.
Muttering a few choice swear words, he leaned in to grab the earpiece.
Black eyes stared at him from the backseat.
Adrenaline rushed through him, slowing time to a crawl and making his vision sharpen. Zettel took a step back. Reached for his gun.
He couldn’t move fast enough.
A white flash rushed through the air and connected with his chest. They both hit the ground. His head bounced, blurring his vision and making his ears ring.
The sensitive wiring in the ground should have registered someone sitting on top of him and made his earpiece blow up with chatter. He could see her—pale face, black eyes, black hair, lips peeled back in a grimace. He could certainly feel her, with her hands digging into his vest and knees pressing
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