Author's note: Brian Keene's new zombie novel, Dead Sea, is now available! Anyone who enjoyed his previous zombie novels, The Rising and City of the Dead, should check this one out. --Dave

Tim slapped the phone shut and stared at it as if he held a hissing cockroach instead. It began ringing almost instantly. He tried to let it ring, tried to force Horne to go to his voicemail.

Could the Colonel track his location through the phone? Maybe he should just throw it away from him, as far and as hard as he could. Maybe if he didn’t answer it was okay—but no, he didn’t think that was right. For Horne’s call to reach him it needed to establish which cell of the network he was closest to. It had to be routed through a specific tower. If Horne knew which tower he was using, he could track Tim to within at most five hundred yards.

Yes. It was best to throw the phone away. To get rid of it. If the Army man caught him now, if he sent his helicopter back to snatch him up, he would never get a chance at killing Phil Nero. He couldn’t let that happen. He just couldn’t—

The phone rang again, jangling out the chorus of a Yes song. Almost by habit alone Tim opened it up. Horne would already have his location, or at least the location of the nearest tower. He might as well hear what the Colonel had to say. It might even be useful. Horne might slip up and give away how many men (or boys) he’d sent to intercept Tim. Or maybe, just maybe, Tim could convince Horne that he should be left alone.

Fat chance. Still—

“I’m kind of busy, Colonel,” he said, putting the phone to his ear.

“Are you in danger right now? I’d be happy to lend a hand.”

Tim shook his head. “I’m doing just fine by myself, thanks. I’m almost done here. Can I make a deal with you? Can I promise to come back if you just lay off for, say, three more hours?”

“No.”

Tim shook his head. “Just like that. Why am I so important to you? I’m just one guy out of thousands under your protection.”

Tim could almost hear Horne grinning. “When a man breaks out of prison they don’t let him just go. They don’t say that it’s alright since they still have thousands behind bars. I’m responsible for you, both as one of many and as an individual.”

“Then make a deal with me. As an individual.”

“I’m afraid I’m not calling to negotiate. I need you back as soon as possible, Kempfer. Frankly, the fact that you’ve been out of my control for this long looks very, very bad to my superiors. The fact that anyone has breached the Seattle Plague Zone has put me in some pretty hot water. If you die out there I could be court-martialed for dereliction of duty.”

Tim sat down on the sidewalk. This was going to take a while, he knew. Time he really didn’t have. He stared out at the rain and hardened himself. “I can’t really pretend to feel bad for you, Colonel.”

“I’ve never asked for sympathy from anyone I protect, and I won’t ask for yours now. I would hope that a man as smart as you would understand the reasons for everything I’ve done, though. Believe me when I say that the choices I’ve made have all been hard, and that I regret much of what has happened.”

“I do understand,” Tim admitted. “I don’t think I would have done things all that differently if I was in your place. But it’s a long walk from understanding to acceptance. I have a job to do, Colonel, and I intend to finish it. I have two people I need to find justice for. That’s the word I’m calling it—justice. If you can’t help me achieve that—”

“And if I could?”

Tim’s blood went cold. “I don’t know what you mean. Are you saying you would kill Nero for me?”

“Hardly. It’s my brief to protect people, not kill them. I can’t kill him just like I can’t kill you, Kempfer, as easy as that would be, and as much as it would help me do my job. But I might be able to help you find some peace of mind. I might be able to reduce your load of guilt by half, if you’ll work with me.”

“You’re spouting bullshit now. Trying to confuse me.”

Horne laughed. “Oh, I don’t think I’m a smart enough man to do that. You’ve already shown you’re the tricky one. But let me speak for a moment. After you told your story I called down to Atlanta and had CNN send me a digital copy of the tape they took here, the video of your wife fighting that poor infected fellow. They were most obliging. They even sent me some footage they never ran on the air. I watched it all, with great interest. I watched your wife die. I don’t say that to enrage you. I watched that happen because I needed to understand what drove you. I watched it over and over again until I felt your horror and your need. Then I watched what came next.”

“What—what are you talking about, you bastard?” Tim choked.

“I watched Nero stumble away. I watched him kill your wife and then leave. Kempfer, do you understand? Your son was still inside the car, strapped into the back seat. I don’t know if Nero couldn’t see inside the car or if he just never saw Jake sitting there. I do know that Phil Nero never laid a hand on your son.”