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that you’ll become a fungee too.”
    Henry blinked rapidly as he took in the information. Then he looked to Dupree, who nodded in affirmation of my statement. Henry took a moment and closed his eyes. Then he opened then to stare out the window. The sun was setting over Los Angeles, sinking into the ocean. A golden light captured the flag on the eighteenth green, surrounding it with a nimbus of shifting gold.
    Henry said the words slow and plain, “How do you know that will happen?”
    “I’m a scientist here to learn about the epidemiology of the fungus.”
    “Is there a cure?”
    “No.” Dupree licked his lips.
    Henry tried to speak twice, but each time his voice caught. He finally cleared his throat. “I was in Vietnam twice. Once fighting my way through Hue during the Tet Offensive in ’68, then up in the highlands supporting special forces. I was just a grunt, you know. We were up on the Ho Chi Minh Trail, trying to stop Charlie from resupplying. One day my best bud, Vinnie Mafia, got stomach punched with a pungi stick.”
    Henry glanced my way, a sad look on his face.
    “Know what that is, son?” Henry asked.
    I nodded.
    “I thought so. You look like you would.” He returned to staring at the golden-hued green. “So Vinnie’s bleeding all over God’s creation. We’re three days march from friendly forces. We can’t call in air support because we’re on the wrong side of the border. So Vinnie is basically fucked and he knows it.” Henry chuckled now. “Know what that mensch said? You gotta kill me, Hank. No, listen, I’m a gonner. I’ll only slow you down so Charlie does the same thing to you. So kill me, already, why don’t you? ”
    That moment in Vietnam filled the room. I could almost hear Vinnie’s words. God knows I’d heard them before. I’d had my own Vinnie. We’d called him Todd, but his full name had been Specialist Todd Chu. We’d taken fire from an enemy mortar and a piece of shrapnel had sliced his femoral. He’d begged me to kill him. I’d nodded and said I would, but in the end I didn’t have to. He’d lost consciousness a few moments before he’d died. It had been quick.
    Henry spoke again, but didn’t turn this time. “Do you understand what I said, soldier?”
    “Yes.” My throat was dry. “Yes, I do.”
    Todd Chu had been a twenty-year-old kid whose parents had emigrated from Taiwan to San Francisco. He’d always felt their disappointment for not doing as well in school as they’d wanted him to. He’d loved watching his beloved 49ers and playing soccer. His favorite food had been BBQ chicken pizza, and his favorite beer was Anchor Steam. He was a true-blue American whose death was forever etched in the dirty sand of Al Kut, and he’d been my friend and fellow soldier.
    Henry spoke for the last time. “So kill me already, why don’t you?”
    I raised my rifle and fired twice, the noise shocking in the silence that framed it.
    Henry fell straight down, two holes in the side of his head.
    I stared for a moment, then shouldered my rifle. I reached for my equipment. Then to Dupree, I said, “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
    My words seemed to shake him out of his shock. He stepped back and nodded, then hurriedly finished putting his kit away. A breeze brushed against us as we exited the clubhouse. It did nothing to cool me, but it did dry the wetness that had somehow found its way to my face.

 
Luck is where opportunity meets preparation.
Denzel Washington
     
     
    CHAPTER TEN
     
     
    W E LEFT THE motorcycle as a backup. I wanted to know that I had a quick way to evacuate, in the event we needed to or were on the run. We’d find another mode of transportation soon enough, I suspected. So we hung to the side of Golden Hills Road, which ran through an upscale housing community that was probably part of the golf course. Here and there we saw a light, but for the most part, the homes were completely dark. I only had about fifty percent power left in the