Free Plagued: The Ironville Zombie Quarantine Retraction Experiment (Plagued States of America Book 3) by Better Hero Army Page B

and the rescue sleds can hold two each, so we’ve got plenty of room.”
    “What about gas?” Hank asked.
    “We’re only eleven miles from target,” Jones said as he stepped into the container to get out of the wind and snow. O’Farrell followed him, her arms wrapped around herself. “I’m betting these have better gas mileage than that, but they’re going to be too loud. They’ll draw biters.”
    “We just stick to the plan. When we get there, we park them on the runway and split up.”
    “I still don’t get why we’re going to the air base,” Jones said, inspecting the front snowmobile. “Didn’t they crash four and a half miles north of Midamerica? There’s a city just two miles west of the crash site. They could have been disoriented and gone further north. Who knows? We should go to the crash site.”
    “He came up here for Larissa, and crashing wouldn’t stop him. They’ll be at Midamerica.”
    “ We should recon the crash site,” Jones said under his breath.
    “We’ve got four snowmobiles and four drivers, so let’s just get out the shovels and make a ramp before we freeze to death.”
    “Three drivers,” Jones said.
    “Four,” Doctor O’Farrell snapped.
    “You’re not going,” Jones told her. “Stay here with Houston.”
    “Like hell,” O’Farrell replied.
    “Would you two love birds can it?” Hank shouted. “Get a shovel.”
    Jones and Hank dug out a section of the snow drift, using the excavated snow to raise the ground between the train and the path they made. Tom set out helmets, gloves, and thick pants and jackets for everyone, attaching the rescue sleds to the back two snowmobiles. Tom unzipped his pack and withdrew several devices, fiddling with them while putting one on each snowmobile seat. O’Farrell tugged on a pair of the pants and Penelope watched her carefully to see how to put them on. She hated needing other people’s help with trivial things like clothes. Penelope tugged at the leggings, but couldn’t get them over her boots.
    “Here, let me help,” O’Farrell said, stepping close to Penelope while putting her hands over Penelope’s to stop her from tugging.
    Penelope growled, startled.
    “You need to stop that,” O’Farrell snapped softly. “Or everyone’s going to know what you are.”
    Penelope glared at O’Farrell , then snatched a look back toward Tom, but he was busy punching buttons on a device in his hand and seemed oblivious. The noise from the wind outside did a sufficient job of quieting O’Farrell’s words.
    “ The infection damages the larynx,” O’Farrell said. “Are you taking enough Vitamin E? What dose are you on? 500 milligrams?”
    Penelope’s glare became a wary stare.
    “You need to boost your Vitamin E concentration if you want to get your voice back. It also helps with your hair and skin. You won’t be so dry.”
    Penel ope stared at her as she gave one last tug on Penelope’s ski pants. Penelope was perplexed by the doctor’s motherly behavior.
    “There, now zip up,” O’Farrell said, stepping back to assess her work. “There are buttons on the back for the jacket,” she said, pointing at her own pants. “To keep the snow out.”
    The men finished carving a ramp into the side of the snow bank and retreated to the container to suit up next to their respective snowmobiles. M.B. Houston climbed up onto the well-car, surveying their work.
    “Nice,” Houston told them. “I got the switch-back moved into place , finally. I’ll be able to see the marker when I come back. I’m going to head up to the wye track and clear it out to turn around. It’ll take me a good four or five hours in this mess. If you get back before then, head west along the tracks to find me. Otherwise, I’m buttoning things up right here and getting some sleep.”
    “You did good getting us here, M,” Hank said, stepping out to shake the engineer’s hand.
    Houston nodded. Tom shook his hand too, and the engineer saluted toward the