Free MZS: D. C. (Metropolitan Zombie Survivors Book 4) by K. D. McAdams Page B

friends had been guests at that type of establishment,” Tucker says. He has no hint of emotion in his voice.
    “Renegade could also be patient zero or a test subject? Maybe they are making progress on a cure?” Parker says, pointing out that we have very little to go on.
    “Does anyone know where Beaumont is?” Patrick asks harshly.
    Thud.
    A body bounces off the side of the Humvee. While we’re lost in thought, Patrick is still struggling against the zombies.
    “I think their message is done. Maybe we should keep scanning to see if we can hear something else,” Parker doesn’t like listening to the dead air and I agree.
    “Easy, smart guy. I’m going to give them another minute. If they repeat the message, we’ll know something more and if they don’t, we still know something.” Terri takes charge wherever she can.
    They didn’t give details in where they were. That means the message was only intended for people who know what they are talking about. If you don’t know where USP Beaumont is, then you have no need to go there.
    The good news is that this means there are other survivors. It also means that there are enough other survivors that they have plans and codes. They are organized and working together. This is how people survive. I hope they let us join them, if we can find them.
    On the bad news front, we don’t have many ways to figure out where they are. We also don’t know if they would take us in if we can get to them. It looks like I may be at another roll-with-it moment. If we find them, we’ll just ask to join up, and if they say no, we go from there.
    The static of an open communication causes Terri to hold up her hand to request silence. No words flow through the speakers. Our collectively held breath is released when the static stops.
    “Give it another few seconds,” Patrick instructs Terri.
    We all wait.
    “Sorry about that,” comes over the radio. “We have thirty-plus evacuees requesting extraction. Resources are diminished and our window of opportunity is shrinking. Please advise on ETA.”
    A group of more than thirty people is safe and communicating with someone that can help. This is good!
    “Tell them we need extraction too!” I plead with Terri.
    “Bad news Thunder,” a voice replies. “Resources have been reassigned to USP Beaumont. Extraction is not available at this time.”
    Terri speaks into the microphone. “Hello?”
    “Understood big D. We’re going to run-and-gun. Hope to see you in Beaumont.” The tone is even grimmer than the words.
    “Hello, this is Terri, and we are in a Humvee outside of Washington D.C. Are you with the army?” Terri says quickly into the microphone.
    “Terri, this is U.S. Central command operating out of USP Beaumont. Identify your rank and unit,” the voice demands.
    “My name is Terri Anderson, I’m a civilian. We have six survivors and we’re on route sixty-six in western Virginia. Can you please help us?” Terri says, tears running down her face.
    “I’m sorry, ma’am. We don’t have the resources to get that far north. If you can make your way down here, we are accepting all survivors,” the man replies. I feel like I can sense sadness in his voice, though it is likely me projecting.
    “Where are you?!” Terri screams.
    There is no response. Either the communications network has fallen or the U.S. Central command had an urgent need.
    “Shit,” Cupcake mutters.
    Terri is holding on to the microphone, crying. Letting go of our latest glimmer of hope is tough.
    The Humvee slows and I notice it turning. I check out my window for a horde or some other major problem, but don’t see anything. The truck rumbles over a couple of bumps that at this point I have to assume were zombies and I lean over to look out the front window.
    We are pulling into a gas station and I can see the price sign with $3.84 showing on the green numbers for diesel. There are no lights on, but I also don’t see any zombies lurking