jefflong.yearzero-第77部分
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otor blast flushed animals。 A herd of horses galloped with their shadow like dolphins leaping。 Denver it was。 They made a beeline for the neat; geometric skyline。 Soldiers began checking their weapons and suits。 The door gunner grew alert。
They flashed east across vacant suburbs。 White bones lay scattered on the streets。 Dark flocks of birds were circling for food。 Nathan Lee's dread crept。 It was no longer summer here。 America had bee Asia。What was Ochs sending him into?
A dozen plague victims stood clustered on a golf course by a pond。 Their pilot broke from the group and looped lower for a view。 Bodies floated facedown in the nearby water like balloons resting on the surface。 None of the living took notice of the helicopter。 Most had unconsciously shed their clothing in the heat of past days。 On this cold morning; they dumbly faced the light。
From this height; Nathan Lee could see paths worn in the grasses。 Then he saw the dogs。 They were house pets; mostly bigger breeds: golden retrievers; dalmations; black labs; sturdy mutts。 Packs had taken up residence on different sides of the human herd。 Fido had deep instincts。 Nathan Lee had seen hyenas and wild dogs in west Kenya set up shop the same way; picking off the strays at whim。
The pilot hovered thirty feet off; scanning the faces。 Through the chrysalis of infected tissue; their teeth showed like famine grins。 Nathan Lee could see the dark clumps of viscera。
〃No kids。 No pregnant;〃 said the pilot。 〃Am I missing anything?〃
〃Nothing here;〃 the crew chief verified。
The helicopter sprang onwards。
For the next twenty minutes; that was the pattern。 They would spot a group standing in a parking lot or playground or among the crashed cars; descend; scrutinize; and move on。 They reached Coors baseball stadium; skeletal; but pretty with its iron lattice work。 Crossing America; Nathan Lee had learned that stadiums across the country had been used to quarantine tens of thousands of victims。 But Coors stood empty; except for a few slumped bodies in the bleachers。 Either Denver's collapse had happened too quickly for authorities to react; or they had seen the futility of quarantine。 Nathan Lee's helicopter came to rest in center field。
It was a busy place。 The soldiers knew what they were doing。 Sentinels with machine guns scoped the outside streets from the top bleachers。 One team set up a satellite dish and uplinked with Los Alamos; another cleared bodies and debris from the delivery gate。 Nathan Lee loaned a hand where the chore was obvious。 Otherwise; he stayed out of the way。 He listened to the radio chatter over his headset; then tried channel four。
Ochs's voice was waiting for him。 〃Wele to the Mile High City。〃
〃It's bad here;〃 said Nathan Lee。 He wanted encouragement。
〃If it wasn't bad you wouldn't be there;〃 Ochs said。 〃They learned not to bother with the early…stage cities。 Too much insanity。 Gun nation。 Weirdos。 Survivalists with a beef。 Family groups trying to defend their loved ones。〃
〃You said Grace was alive。〃 In fact; Ochs had not said it。 Nathan Lee wanted more。
〃Stay with me;〃 Ochs said。 〃I'm tracking your coordinates。 I've got a map。 We'll find them together。〃
The soldiers left the pilots on guard and departed。 Carting jerry cans of gas; the platoons exited onto the streets and went carjacking。 Denver was SUV heaven。 In pairs; the soldiers fueled and hotwired their vehicles of choice; and drove off。
Nathan Lee was left alone。 From high above; papers floated out of shattered skyscraper windows。 He found a Toyota with a good battery and keys in the ignition。 The engine turned over with what was left in its gas tank。 There was enough headroom to acodate his helmet。 It would do。 He got out and poured part of his jerry can into the gas tank。 All told; he had enough fuel for a round trip of sixty miles or so。
Ochs played navigator with a puter map。 Nathan Lee followed his directions。 Where the avenues were clogged with dead cars or had flooded with water; Ochs found him alternate routes。
Together they reached a cozy neighborhood landscaped with poplars and Japanese blood grasses。 pared to the tangle of highway metal and burned malls; this was a quiet haven。 A car lay overturned on one lawn。 Another stuck partway out of a closed garage door。 To the very end; men had needed the feel of a steering wheel in their hands。 If they couldn't drive fate; at least they could drive a Ford。
〃1020 Lakeridge Road;〃 Ochs spoke in his ear。 〃Used brick; split level。 A weathervane with a rooster。〃
〃There it is。〃
〃Tell me what you're seeing;〃 said Ochs。 〃You're my eyes。〃
Nathan Lee was grim。 〃What am I doing here?〃 In two hours of tortuous driving; there had not been one sign of healthy survivors。 Carcasses and wandering angels; yes。 Otherwise; it was a wild goose chase。 Or a trap。
〃Go inside;〃 Ochs said。 〃Talk to me。 I want to know everything。〃
Nathan Lee turned the voice off。 He went to the front door between waist…high Kentucky bluegrass。 A nylon flag with a butterfly jutted from a porch mount。 A terracotta sun hung by the door。 Wind chimes rustled。Home Sweet Home; said the mat。
He knocked on the door。 His gloved fist didn't make a sound。 His motions were dense and slow。 He heard himself breathing。
The door was unlocked。 Inside; the house looked ready forBetter Homes and Gardens。 Lydia's touch。 Flower petals had fallen to colorful powder on the white doily under a vase。 The house looked lived in; but not lived in enough。 It was too tidy。 There were no daily messes。 No temporary piles。 No pairs of little sneakers shucked by the door。 Everything was arranged。 Like a shrine。
The Suzuki book on the piano had Grace's name printed on the cover。 Her fingers had touched the keys。 Nathan Lee could barely hear the notes under his gloved fingers。
The evidence mounted。 Artwork from Alameda Elementary was taped to the refrigerator: a bird; a tree; a house with little girls watering flowers。 Her signature in capital letters。 The freezer held melted popsicles。
Nathan Lee's breathing grew louder。 He tried not to think。 She had been here。
A bulletin board on the wall: family snapshots。 There was Lydia beaming her 100…watt smile beside a sturdy burgher of a man with a prosperous belly。 Lydia had landed herself a provider; no more globe hoppers。 No more losers。 The husband even resembled her brother。 They looked self…content。 Nathan Lee scanned lower。
Grace was missing two lower teeth。 A straw hat shadowed her eyes。 Nathan Lee's hand moved over the snapshots; finding all the Graces; speaking her name each time inside his helmet。 By a waterfall; at the swimming pool; on a mountain trail with a basket of tiny strawberries。 She had her mother's smile and Nathan Lee's narrow face。 For the most part; she was her own woman。
He stood by the bulletin board。 His heart felt caved in。 It should have been him in those photos。 Those should have been his shoulders she was sitting on; his hand receiving the bouquet of dandelions。 That should have been his head bearing the silly pointed birthday cap。 It was the one reality he'd really ever wanted; and here he was viewing another man who had lived his life。
Nathan Lee went into the basement。 That would be the most logical hideout。 He would have taken her into the mountains or desert。 But if you were going to stay; you would probably burrow deep。 Absurdly; he imagined a whole warren of tunnels connecting the suburbs; and families of survivors faring happily beneath his feet。
The basement was finished with flowered wallpaper and a tiled floor。 There were no trap doors; no mounds of dug dirt。 He climbed the stairs to the second floor and found Lydia's husband in the master bedroom。
The suicide was nothing ugly。 The man had overdosed himself; laid down on the coral and beige down forter; and gone to sleep。 Lydia was not with him。 She was a mother。 She would be with her child。
Nathan Lee went down the hallway and came to the last door。 It was going to be her bedroom。 Full of dread; he saw his hand reach for the knob。 The door opened。
The bed was empty。 It was her room; but Grace was not here。 His hopes zigzagged。 She'd done it again! he thought。 Lydia had cheated her man。 He coul