She acknowledged his order with the curt nod of her head.


“I’ll report it to the SWD. Maybe they will be able to explain this.”


“No I.D.” Maria said with a sigh after looking for dog tags or other forms of I.D. “Nothing.”


“Maybe he was from the last push.”


“But why wouldn’t he have I.D.?”


Omondi shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. Now, we need to get back to work.”


It felt as if the world no longer made any sense.


* * *


Physical exhaustion was a mere memory now and one that was quickly fading. Maria’s memories whispered that her limbs should be tired, aching, and sore, yet they weren’t. She felt strangely disconnected from the world, her own emotions, and her body. She ruthlessly killed the Scourge, dragged them to their funeral pyres, and watched them burn in the dying sunlight without feeling anything at all, physically or emotionally.


Her only real emotion throughout the day was worry when the first bonfire was lit. A whimper of fear slid through her as she wondered if the Scourge would be stirred into a rampage. Instead they scurried away from the burning pyre of their brethren. She supposed the fear of fire was innate in any creature. Watching the dead burn, she was glad that her senses were muted. Tucking her scarf up around her nose and mouth, she returned to killing.


The day felt particularly long. Their breaks were short and tense. The squad watched the Scourge with some trepidation. Fear that another anomaly might burst out of the horde and attack kept them all on alert. Speculation was high about what had spurred the Scourge to attack Jameson and Holm, but Omondi would silence anyone discussing the attack if he overheard.


"Keep focused. Keep alert," Omondi urged throughout the long, tedious hours.


It was nightfall when Maria’s disassociation from the reality around her unleashed her from its numbing constraints and she felt the first sharp pang of remorse and fear slice into her mind. The world swam sharply into focus and she could no longer ignore the truth. Despite slaughtering the Scourge all day, the valley was still infested, and it would be months before she saw Dwayne again.


Turning away from the fires tossing sparks into the darkness, she was glad she could not cry. She felt the need billowing up from inside of her, constricting her throat, but her eyes would not give birth to tears. The heat from the fire washed over her back and she wished fervently that it could warm her cold flesh and give her life again. Squatting down, she crossed her arms over her chest and starred down at the hard-packed, black earth. He braid tickled her cheek and she flipped it back over her shoulder.


Closing her eyes, she tried not to see the faces of all the Scourge she had killed today. She tried not to smell their burning flesh. She tried not to wonder about the lives they lived before infection. And she tried not to think of all the Scourge still filling the valley and the world beyond.


"It feels like we’ve been out here an eternity already," Denman’s voice said.


She opened her eyes and cast her gaze in his direction. He was kneeling next to her, fussing with his med-kit.


"We have a long way to go," she answered, jerking her chin toward the crowd of Scourge that started a few hundred yards away.


"Yes," Denman said, his voice painted with sorrow. "We do."


"Then we go home, get cured, and start a new life."


"A better life. My children will be thrilled to live outside the walls. I’ve asked for a farm near the gate actually."


"Already planning to get married and have kids?" Maria asked. She was glad he was speaking to her. It directed her thoughts away from the burning corpses.


"I am married and I have children," Denman replied.


"I thought all of us were unattached. I thought that was the recruiting requirement." Maria was surprised at his proclamation.


"Well, for my position they decided to make an exception."


"And you agreed to come out here away from your family?"


Denman nodded his head vigorously. "Absolutely. There are four of us living in a two room flat. The kids don’t have a place to play." Denman sighed. "I just felt I didn’t have a choice." Reaching out, he said, "Let me see your hands."


"Why?"


"Omondi is watching," Denman answered.


Yanking off her glove, Maria extended one hand. The atmosphere around them was suddenly conspiratorial.


Denman took her hand and studied it. "There is some concern that the virus will not keep the body in exactly the same condition it was in when we technically died. There is a possibility of skin breaks, blisters, and other concerns."


"Scrags don’t get sick," Maria pointed out.


"They don’t talk either," Denman replied. He took out some ointment and rubbed it on her knuckles.


"You heard it speak, didn’t you?" Maria whispered.


A slight nod was followed by him gesturing for her other hand.


Maria complied quickly. "Why didn’t you say anything?"


“What did the Chief Defender say?”


“He’s not sure he believes me,” she answered, shrugging.


Denman’s brown eyes lifted to stare into hers. "I don’t know anyone out here very well. I don’t know you at all. But I watched you today. All of this bothers you more than it does the others. It bothers you like it bothers me. You and I heard that Scrag speak. He said he was hungry. He was wearing Constabulary armor."


"What do you think it means?"


"That the SWD is hiding something."


Maria tucked her treated hands back into her gloves and stood up. Denman followed suit, fastening his med-pack to his belt.


"They’re not going to tell us. They want us to just do the job," Maria said at last. "So that’s what we’ll do."


Maria caught sight of Omondi studying their interaction and she flexed her hands, then gave him the thumbs up.


Recognizing they were under scrutiny, Denman said, "Good as new. Nothing major. If you notice any peeling around the knuckles, let me know." He sauntered off toward Mikado.


Maria smiled briefly at Omondi, then sat back down. Pulling out her pad, she couldn’t wait to speak with Dwayne.


* * *


Dwayne stared at Maria’s visage in disbelief. She had managed to slip away and turn on her pad to illuminate her face while they spoke. It was well past midnight and he was exhausted, but he didn’t want to miss speaking with her. He could see the strain in her face and hear it in her voice.


“Are you sure it was constabulary armor?”


“Positive. Omondi and I wondered if he was from the last push, but neither of us recognized him. It’s so odd. He didn’t have any insignia or anything on his armor that would identify him.”


“And he bit Jameson? That doesn’t make sense.”


“None of the other Scrags attacked us today. Even after the attack, they ignored us. After the last two days, I believe the Scrags respond to visual stimulus. If they perceive that a human victim is nearby it heightens their awareness. And once that happens, sound can draw them into attacking. The Scrags we were dealing with were docile today and then, this man, this...thing...just appeared and went after the two of us that were not in armor. He went for the vulnerable ones.”


Dwayne sat at the edge of his bed, dumbfounded by what he was hearing. None of it made sense. “But why would it bite if you’re obviously…a Scrag?”


Maria winced at his words and he instantly regretted what he had said. Shaking her head, she said, “He not only bit Jameson’s hand, he ate what he tore off. Denman and I both saw him do it. And I’m not sure if Denman heard or not, but I know that the attacker said the word hungry.”


“The Scrags don’t eat their victims. They just infect,” Dwayne said, mystified by what she was saying.


“I saw a Scrag bite and eat a piece of Stillson. I reported it, but no one believed me.” Maria frowned. “Dwayne, I think the Scrag I saw bite Stillson was...I think it was in uniform.”


Dwayne rubbed his chin with one hand while pondering her words. “None of this sounds right. At all. The Scrags don’t eat us like those zombie monsters in the old vids. They bite to infect, not eat.”


“Something is really wrong out here, Dwayne. Omondi got the squad to calm down and laugh it off after a while, but I could see in his eyes that he is just as concerned as I am. He wouldn’t talk about it though.”


“I’m going to look into it,” Dwayne decided. “I’ll find out what is going on.”


“How?”


“My hidden sources,” Dwayne answered with a wink. “I can see what I can uncover on this end, but you will need to be careful out there. It’s obvious that there is a hell of a lot more going on than either one of us has been told.”


Maria nodded. Her emotions played across her face, fluctuating from fearful to weary. At last she forced a small smile, “Never a dull moment, huh?”


“With us? Never.”


“I still believe in what I’m doing,” Maria said after a beat, her cloudy dark eyes staring into the camera. “We killed so many of them today. Men, women, young, old. Up close when they’re in torpor they’re such sad looking things, but then I remember what they did to the world, to my father, to Ryan, and it’s so easy to kill them.”