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  Tatyana clenched her hands together. “This isn’t about me. It’s about O’Bannon.”

  “Your relationship with O’Bannon is one of the things that calls your judgment into question.” Elena feared she was losing control of the discussion. “He’s not right for you.”

  “Because he’s human?”

  “Because he mistreats you.”

  “Well, that’s none of your business.” Tatyana started to walk away.

  Elena raced after Tatyana, grabbed her by the arm, and spun the young vampire around to face her. “As the mistress of the coven, it is my business.”

  “Really? And did you have this same conversation with Sultanic after he sired me?”

  Elena could not respond because Tatyana was right. She never took the others to task for their sexual transgressions as long as their actions did not endanger the coven. Maybe it was her natural prejudice against humans, or perhaps some long-dormant maternal instinct, that caused her to react so differently with Tatyana.

  Tatyana sensed Elena’s faltering. “I know you’re only concerned about my well-being, but I’ll be fine. What type of vampire would I be if I let the others go off and fight without me?”

  “I’m sorry. My mind is made up.”

  Tatyana looked to Dravko. “Do you agree with Elena?”

  Dravko moved forward to join the women. Elena could tell by the hesitation in his response that he did not agree with her. “It’s ultimately the Mistress’ decision, but given what we’re likely to face out there, I want as many of us as possible on the team.”

  With Dravko having turned against her, Elena gave in to the inevitable. She bowed her head, avoiding the stares from both Tatyana and Dravko. “You can go.”

  Tatyana responded like a teenager being told she could go on her first date. Rushing forward, she hugged Elena. “Thank you. I promise I won’t let you down.”

  As Tatyana ran off to prepare for the mission, Elena turned to Dravko. Her voice contained no anger or recrimination, only resignation. “Now it’s official. I’ve lost all control over the coven.”

  “No you haven’t.”

  “There was a time when no vampire would dare challenge my authority, especially you.” Elena headed back to her container.

  Dravko followed. “I’m not challenging your authority. I’m merely offering my guidance and counsel.”

  “Apparently I need it.”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself, just as you were being too hard on Tatyana.” Dravko chuckled. “You and Tatyana have a lot in common.”

  “How so?”

  “You’re both trying to grow accustomed to your new circumstances. Tatyana with her vampirism, and you with leading the last coven while living amongst humans.”

  Elena lowered her head and smiled so Dravko could not see her. She was fortunate to have him as her deputy, and knew they would never have gotten this far without him. “Just promise me you’ll bring the coven back safely.”

  “No need to worry. There’s nothing we’ll run into out there that we can’t handle.”

  * * *

  Thompson exited the blockhouse a minute after the vampires. He watched Elena race after the young female vampire and lead her away from the structure. Stepping to the corner of the landing, he observed the exchange between them. Although he could not hear what they were saying, their actions were visible even in the dark. Thompson assumed they were arguing about something, though he could not hear about what. Eventually the exchange ended, and the young vampire hugged the leader before running off. Like she was happy about something. Like she was a fucking human.

  Thompson averted his gaze. This place disgusted him. It seemed as if everyone here had lost their sanity. They had one of the few ideal locations to sit out the zombie apocalypse, and then fucked it up with their asinine security procedures. He had checked their outer perimeter earlier in the day and could not believe how weak it was. With the exception of the reinforced gate blocking the driveway, the perimeter defense consisted of nothing more than a few strands of barbed wire strung through the woods. If a rotter horde converged on the camp, the barbed wire fence would not last more than a few hours at most. And while the fort wall would keep out the living dead indefinitely, it would also trap everyone inside with no way to escape. No one had even thought to tie up boats at the base of the cliff in case rotters overran the camp and they had to evacuate in a hurry.

  Then there were their amateurish attempts at security, with cops pretending to be soldiers and girls playing at war. And if all that was not enough, he had to contend with this ungodly alliance the camp had made with the bloodsuckers. Shit, a first year ROTC student knew enough not to bring the enemy into your camp if you wanted to live. These people did not have a fucking clue about what it was like to be in the military, to be professionally trained, to face real combat. How any of them had survived this long was a miracle, one that Thompson felt certain had more to do with sheer luck rather than skill. During his career, he had been in enough units with poor leadership to know that eventually luck ran out, and when it did the end result was disaster.

  Thompson’s thoughts wandered to his son, Michael, somewhere in the Middle East. He had been stationed in Iraq when the outbreak occurred. His unit had been cut off when rotters overran Iran, Turkey, and the densely populated Mediterranean coast. Those coalition and Iraqi forces not already turned had retreated south through the deserts of Saudi Arabia, crossed the Red Sea into Egypt, and joined the defensive perimeter trying to contain the rotters from spilling out of the Levant into Africa. At least that was where Michael had been the last time they had talked five months ago. Worldwide communications had fallen apart shortly after that. For all Thompson knew, his son still fought a retreating action to protect Africa, or was now one of the rotters spreading into the Dark Continent.

  The entire situation infuriated Thompson. His son was highly trained and well equipped, yet by now he was either already one of the rotters or living on borrowed time. Meanwhile, the idiots here managed to survive in spite of themselves. Even worse, they coddled the creatures that had brought this onto mankind, and would eventually get his son killed. He wanted to get as far away from these people as possible, and would have already set out on his own if he did not have an obligation to keep Compton alive. He had reached the end of his patience. Once the colonel ensured that the vaccine got to the government-in-exile in Omaha, he would request a transfer to a combat unit to get some payback on the rotters for what they did to Michael. If he lived that long.

  “Is everything all right, Colonel?”

  Thompson glanced over to see Compton standing beside him. He had been so consumed by his own thoughts he had not even heard the doctor approach. Shit, he chastised himself. Screw up like that in the field and you’ll become dinner for the living dead.

  “We’re all ready to go, doctor.”

  “Good to hear. But that’s not what I asked.”

  At first Thompson wanted to keep quiet, but that would not work since Compton knew that he was upset. “To tell you the truth, I’ve got some bad vibes about going back to Site R.”

  “Because Mad Dog’s part of the team?”

  “I can handle that little coward. I just don’t like bringing the bloodsuckers with us.”

  Compton rested his forearms on the railing. “They’re the least of my worries right now.”

  “You’re not afraid they’ll turn on us while on the road?”

  “They need us to get to Site R alive as much as we need them.”

  For a moment, Thompson was taken aback. “It sounds like you want the bloodsuckers along.”

  “Actually, I don’t mind. Paul may be an idiot about a lot of things, but he’s right about the bloodsuckers greatly increasing the fighting strength of his group. Having them along improves our chances of success.” Compton pushed himself off the railing, turned around, and leaned back against it. He glanced around to make certain no one was in earshot, and then spoke softly so only
the colonel could hear. “And I like the idea of knowing where they are at all times.”

  Thompson grinned. “You mean keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

  “Something like that. Besides, bringing the bloodsuckers along with us makes it that much easier to finally deal with them once we reach Site R.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I wonder what it’s like out there.” Ari stated it not as a question but as a way to fill the gap in the conversation as she loaded 8 millimeter rounds into the ten-cartridge magazine.

  “Same as before,” responded Leila, “only much more hellish.”

  “How so?” asked Doreen, brushing a long strand of red hair out of her face and back behind her ear.

  “There are no people out there now.” Leila looked up from loading ammunition into a Mauser magazine. She had a pretty face, with emerald eyes and dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders, but her expression had hardened, the result of her experiences before arriving at camp. “Right after the outbreak, you could find survivors all over the place. It didn’t matter if they were friendly or not. They were human, and when we were out there we didn’t feel alone. Most of them didn’t survive the last eight months, so when we go out there tonight we’re entering a dead land. Literally. There’s nothing out there but rotters.”

  “You’re a cheery bitch.” The comment came from Stephanie, the oldest member of the Angels.

  “It’s true,” said Leila.

  Stephanie cleaned her Mauser, never once looking at Leila. “Stop trying to undermine morale.”

  “You have a problem with the truth?”

  “The truth is you have no clue what it’s like out there.”

  Leila threw the half-filled magazine into the box of 8 millimeter rounds. “Considering what I went through out there—”

  “We’ve all heard it before. ‘I had to fuck ten guys a night every night in order to survive’.” Stephanie slid the Mauser’s bolt back into its stock and locked it in place. She laid the rifle across her lap and glared at Leila. “We all have a story to tell, you just don’t hear the rest of us dwelling on them.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Yes, it is. I watched my husband turn into a rotter and attack my son, and had to kill both of them. Sandy lost her entire family on the Brooklyn Bridge when the Army blew it up. Tiara made it all the way from Boston on a broken leg. We’re all carrying emotional baggage.”

  Leila refused to let go. “You don’t have any idea what I went through.”

  “We do.” Josephine, a petite young woman of Asian descent, pushed the last round into a magazine. She motioned to Amy who sat beside her. “Both of us also traded sex for security. We decided, for whatever reason, that it was better to be a whore than a rotter. We made our own hells, but we made those decisions on our own. Some of us made terrible decisions, and others didn’t have a choice.”

  Most of the Angels cast a sympathetic glance at Sarah who had spent nearly five weeks with a rape gang before the living dead attacked the group, giving her a chance to escape. She still bore a deep, three-inch scar across her left cheek where one of her attackers slit her with a knife for not cooperating. Sarah pretended to concentrate on filling her magazine, though she did lower her head slightly so the sandy hair fell across the scar.

  “And it doesn’t bother you?” asked Leila.

  “Every fucking day.” There was no anger in Josephine’s voice, only sorrow. “I think of my husband and whether he survived the outbreak, and what he would say if he ever found out what I did to survive. And then I hope he doesn’t find me, even if he is alive, so he’ll never know what I’ve become.”

  Stephanie stifled back a tear. “I never knew that.”

  “Because I don’t talk about it. None of us talk about our experiences. They’re too painful.” Josephine sounded almost pleading when she turned to Leila. “You shouldn’t dwell on it either.”

  Leila opened her mouth to speak, but she bent her head and sobbed instead. Emily, who sat to her left, wrapped an arm around Leila and pulled her close. Her southern accent added a soothing quality to her voice. “It’s okay, honey. We all have demons haunting us. It’s the bond that keeps us so close to each other. Right?”

  Emily glanced over at Stephanie, hoping for support.

  “Right,” said Stephanie, relieved at finally bringing the awkward moment to a close. She patted the Mauser in her lap. “That, and our kick ass fighting skills.”

  “Yeah, but we still have a long ways to go before we’re as good as One Shot over here.” Josephine leaned over and nudged Amy.

  “That’s true,” said Ari, pushing her eyeglasses back up her nose. “Ever since we stood up the Angels, you’ve been able to take down a rotter with a single shot. How did you get so good? Were you a hunter before this?”

  “Never fired a gun before in my life,” Amy responded as she pinned her long blonde hair into a ponytail with a rubber band. Raising her Mauser, she aimed it at a point on the opposite wall and sighted down the barrel. “Whenever I line up a rotter, I just pretend it’s one of the guys I used to fuck in the biker gang. Works every time.”

  “Hell,” said Bethany, who at nineteen was the youngest member of the Angels. “If it’s that easy, I’ll just picture my first boyfriend who dumped me when I wouldn’t put out.”

  “My ex-husband,” chimed in Virginia.

  “Both my ex-husbands,” added Katie with a chuckle.

  Leila still sobbed against Emily. Emily squeezed her arm gently. “Who are you going to picture?”

  “Probably me,” said Stephanie with a good-natured grin.

  “No.” Leila snorted back her tears and ran a hand across her eyes. The hard expression had softened, making her look vulnerable. “It’ll be my mother-in-law.”

  Doreen chuckled. “She can’t be that bad.”

  “You never met my mother-in-law.” Leila looked up, a forced smile on her face. “That woman was so mean, she could scare off rotters.”

  The fourteen women around the room laughed. Not that they found the joke especially humorous. They all realized they needed to bond and reaffirm their camaraderie for what lie ahead.

  * * *

  Natalie crouched down outside the blockhouse, far enough away from the open window so none of the Angels could see her, but close enough so she could listen in on their conversation.

  Leila’s outburst bothered her, and not because of the tension it caused within the group. It was impossible for fourteen people to live in constant close proximity to each other, especially under these conditions, without tempers flaring. No, Leila’s outburst was merely a symptom of something more troubling. As Josephine said, every one of them carried demons as a result of the outbreak. And everyone dealt with those demons in their own way. But no one had exorcised them yet, and those inner tensions were more of a threat to the camp than a hundred rotters. Hell, even after pinpointing the problem, she could not bring herself to come to terms with her own guilt over losing David and to act on her feelings for Robson. She was not sure that she could.

  “If I got caught spying on your girls like this, they’d call me a stalker.”

  The voice startled Natalie. She whipped her head around to see Robson standing behind her. “Jesus, you startled me.”

  “Sorry.” Robson crouched down beside her. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m just worried about them, that’s all.”

  “Because of the fight?”

  “No. There’s a lot of pent up emotion among my girls.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it. They’re the best fighting force in camp, thanks to you.” Robson placed his hand on Natalie’s shoulder. It felt pleasant, even through the leather jacket. For a moment, she wondered what his touch would feel like against her naked skin.

  “What about you?” she asked, trying to draw him out. “What demons are you fighting?”

  Robson withdrew his hand and became sullen. “I’d rather not talk about it.
”

  “Are you afraid of digging up bad memories?”

  “I’m afraid you’ll think less of me.”

  “I doubt that. If it wasn’t for you leading the raiding parties, none of us would have survived this long.”

  “Thanks.”

  Robson did not pursue the matter, so Natalie dropped it. Laughing from inside the blockhouse caught her attention. She looked inside, relieved to see the argument had ended and the girls joking amongst themselves.

  “I’m concerned about how they’ll handle this trip.” Natalie stood up and brushed dirt off of her knee. She strolled toward the sea wall overlooking the ocean, with Robson walking along beside her. “This is the first time they’ve traveled this far from camp.”

  “It’s the first time any of us have. But all of your girls came from out there, some as far away as New York and Pennsylvania. They have more experience with what we’ll encounter than us locals do. I wouldn’t worry about them.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I usually am.”

  Natalie flashed him a flirtatious smile, though she doubted he saw it. They stopped at the sea wall and looked out. Without a moon, darkness enveloped everything. She could barely see the whitecaps as the waves crashed against the base of the wall a hundred feet beneath them. A year ago, prior to the outbreak, you could trace the outline of the shore off in the distance by the lights of the numerous coastal communities. Now water and land merged into a single black void. All the lights had long since gone dark, and not even a fire burned to indicate where humans once lived.

  In a few hours, they would be entering that unknown void.

  Chapter Fourteen

  People began gathering in the motor pool twenty minutes before midnight, both those going on this mission and those bidding them farewell. Paul and Elena were among the first to arrive. Paul refrained from giving a speech or offering a last minute pep talk. Instead, he wandered among the vehicles, shaking hands and wishing everyone luck, working the crowd like a politician outside a polling station pimping for votes. Much less comfortable with such public displays, Elena hung back, quietly offering best wishes to her coven.