Contagious

Chapter 123

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Perry shrugged. Im not great with distances, Dew.

Take a guess, college boy.

Maybe a mile? Maybe a bit less.

Dew relayed the information, waited, then laughed. Youve got to be s.h.i.tting me, L.T.

He listened, then nodded. Apparently Murray wasnt s.h.i.tting him.

Dew tucked the satphone back in his flak jacket. Were going to put down and secure the LZ. Then Murray is going to fly in another Margo-Mobile set behind us. Theyve lost contact with Margaret and Otto, so he thinks their trailers were destroyed.

Is Margo dead?

I doubt it, Dew said. They had plenty of warning. Otto is a sharp guy, so lets hope for the best.

Well, where are we landing, then?

Dew smiled a s.h.i.t-eating grin. Perry, my boy, youre going to love this landing field. The irony is so thick you could spread it on toast.

What? Where are we landing?

Dew kept smiling and shook his head. Youll just have to wait and see.

He thought this was funny. Funny. They were heading into a firefight, Detroit was burning, Margaret might be dead, and Dew was laughing.

Just sit back and enjoy the ride, Dew said. This might be the last time you ever fly in one of these things.

Perry sat back and hoped that was true. But he hoped it would be because they walked away and just never got on one againnot because they crashed and died.

12:42 P.M.: Ogdens Plans

General Charlie Ogden made another mark on his paper map of Detroit. Hed lost contact with the men at the 94/75 intersection. Theyd done their job, but the fact that hed lost contact meant two more men gone. Fifty minutes into the attack and losses were higher than hed expected.

Those low-flying A-10s were a real pain in the a.s.s. Small-arms fire just wouldnt take them out. Hed had only ten Stingers to begin withfive for the various airports and five in the city. Three of the latter set had already firedtwo misses and a hit, bringing down an Apache right on Woodward Avenue. Hed ordered the last two Stingers held in reserve. It was possible, however improbable, that Ogden had missed something. Giving up air superiority wasnt an issue. What he couldnt handle was troops on the ground. His men were too spread out, too dispersed to repel infantry.

Ogden could sense it now. He could sense how close they were. Thirty-two minutes, give or take, and the hatchlings would activate the gate.

The angels would descend upon Detroit.

He was in the Globe building with Corporal Kinney Johnson, a sorry excuse for a communications man. Just the two of them, the hatchlings busting a.s.s to finish the gate and Chelsea still sitting inside the Winnebago. Mr. Burkle continued to run in and out, finding whatever material he could for the hatchlings.

Sir, Johnson said, were getting reports of ma.s.sive air traffic off Belle Isle, less than a mile up the river. A-10s, Apaches, even F-15s, flying low.

Flying low . . . are they attacking anything?

It looks like just targets of opportunity, sir, Johnson said. Some of our men tried volley fire with AT4s, even brought down an A-10, but as soon as our men fire, one of the gunships takes them out.

Hes coming.

Chelseas voice, tinged with fear. That instantly made Ogden sweat, made his stomach churnhow could G.o.d be afraid?

The boogeyman, hes coming. Stop him.

His men had failed to kill Perry and Dew. What if they had also failed to do enough damage to Whiskey Company?

Johnson, call out to everyone whos left. Look for Ospreys. Repeat, Ospreys.

Johnson bent to the task, and Ogden waited. Perry and Dew were on the way. The only question was, who was coming with them?

Sir, visual confirmation of three OspreysI repeat, three Ospreyscoming in fast from the north.

Concentrate all remaining Stinger fire on the Ospreys, Ogden said. Tell any unit that can see the Ospreys to move toward them, set up sniper positions. If any of the birds land, concentrate all fire on whatever comes out.

12:44 P.M.: Incoming

Perry Dawsey wanted to puke.

Downtown Detroit spread out before them. Urban sprawl stretched out to the right, while Lake St. Claire filled the left-side view. Plumes of smoke rose from the city, some from skysc.r.a.pers, some from the ground, wind carrying the black smoke from left to right, due west across the heart of the city toward Ann Arbor. He wondered if the smoke would reach that far, spread soot on the University of Michigan Stadium where hed once been a star. The three skysc.r.a.pers looked like smokestacks, as if the whole city of Detroit was a giant ship steaming eastward.

He was in the last of three Ospreys. Dew had told him whyany missile fire would probably hit the lead helicopter. That strategy, of course, was only as good as the guesswork of the guy firing the Stingers.

The closer Perry got to Detroit, the more he sensed the infected. This was so different from before. Mather had been one guy, really hard to locate. It had been easier to track down three hosts each for the South Bloomingville and Marinesco gates. The Detroit signal felt huge, undoubtedly more hosts there than hed ever encountered.

It was also stronger for another reason.

Chelsea Jewell.

He could experience her, taste her blank soul. He would find her, he would help her, because she had tried to f.u.c.k with his headand n.o.body f.u.c.ks with a Dawsey.

An alarm blared through the cabin.

Incoming! the pilot shouted. Missiles inbound!

Perry gripped hard on the bottom of the seat. The Ospreys nose tipped down, allowing him a view of the ground far below and the other two Ospreys out in front. The smoke trail started low, from a house way off on the right. It curved, course-correcting to match the Ospreys velocity.

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