Free Ex-Patriots by Peter Clines Page A

the news during the course of this
meeting.”
    St. George sighed.
    “Oh, joy,” said Barry. “That won’t cause any
headaches.”
    “I would suggest we advise citizens against
any premature assumptions as to the nature of this incident.
Perhaps we can protect them from potential disillusionment and the
corresponding blow to morale.”
    “Assuming, of course,” said Danielle,
“there’s going to be a reason to be disillusioned.”
    The lights flickered. “That’s my cue,” said
Barry. He swallowed the last crust of his sandwich. “Batteries are
running low. I need to get back to the chair.”
    “They’re not lasting any time at all now,”
muttered the redhead.
    “We’re supplying six times as many people,”
said St. George. “We need to figure out a better way to do
this.”
    “You’re telling me,” said Barry. He swung
himself off the table and into his wheelchair. “You know it’s been
six weeks since I slept in a bed?”
    “Come on,” said the hero, scooping up his
patchwork leather jacket. “Let’s get you over to Four.”
    “Cerberus,” said Stealth, “if you could
escort Zzzap back to the electric chair, I would like to speak with
St. George for a few more minutes. Alone.”
    “Somebody’s in trou-ble,” sang Barry with a
grin.
    The redhead took in a quick breath. “Will you
be long? I was hoping to get the armor back on tonight.”
    “Take the rest of the night off,” St. George
told her. “We’ll get you suited back up in the morning.”
    “Oh, sure,” said Barry. “She gets to sleep in
a bed.”
    “Someone needs to check the gates, though,”
said Danielle. “If you two are going to be here for a while—”
    “I will check the gates once our meeting is
done,” said Stealth. “Will you see Zzzap back to Four, please?”
    Her elbows pulled in closer to her body.
“Sure,” she said. “No problem.” She wheeled Barry around and out
the conference room doors.
    St. George dropped his jacket back on the
table and looked at the cloaked woman. “What’s up?”
    “How did the new chainmail armor
perform?”
    “Nobody likes it, but Danny Foe let an ex get
the drop on him and it stopped the bite. Not much past that.
Everyone was on their game today.”
    “Is there anything else to report from your
mission?”
    He leaned back against the table. “Pretty
much just what we expected to find in the valley,” he said. “Exes
seem more numerous but spread out more. Most everything’s looted
along Cahuenga, but it’s hard to tell when so it doesn’t help us
figure out if there are other survivors out there.”
    “Did you listen?”
    “What?”
    “You launched a flare which would have been
visible throughout most of the southern San Fernando Valley. If
survivors saw it, there is a reasonable chance they would have made
an effort to attract your attention.”
    He sagged a little. “I didn’t even think of
that. I was so excited about the plane.”
    “The fault is mine,” she said. “I became
focused on the flare as a signal for our own purposes. I did not
consider the possibility it would serve as an indirect beacon to
others until after you had left.”
    “It’s not your responsibility to think of all
this stuff.”
    “Someone must be responsible,” she said, “and
I am the best suited to the task.”
    “Well,” he said, “maybe it won’t be for much
longer. If it really is the Army we’re all off the hook. Someone
else will be in charge.”
    She tilted her head at him. “I did not
realize you were eager to be relieved of your
responsibilities.”
    “Aren’t you? I mean, let’s face it. There’s
got to be people better qualified than us to rebuild
civilization.”
    “Perhaps,” she said. “Perhaps not. To my
eyes, you are eminently qualified.”
    They looked at each other for a few moments,
then a few more, and then she turned and moved to the bank of
monitors. St. George picked up his jacket. The doors were closed
behind him when he realized he’d