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of story they’d been told about what was going on here. Could’ve been anything, and they’d already seen several of their men go down. What was odd were the scientists they had with them. Obviously not military, they carried themselves differently, and flinched every time a gun went off.
     
    At least there’s none at this barricade for the moment , I thought. I could count about 30 or 40 lying on the ground in front of it, though. The night hadn’t been completely kind to these guys.
     
    And here came another patrol, within a couple hundred yards of me. I took a deep breath and checked for walkers. None spotted, I lowered my duffel to the ground, and holstered my pistol. Holding the rifle by one hand, I cupped the other and shouted around the corner.
     
    “Don’t shoot, I’m not infected,” I began and jerked back as a fusillade of bullets struck chips off the edge of the building.
     
    Genius, Blake. Pure fucking genius. Why don’t you just fire your rifle in the air to calm them down, now?
     
    From around the side of the building I heard a gruff voice. “God dammit Jenkins, cease fire! Who gave you an order to shoot, you dipshit?”
     
    “Well, sir…”
     
    “Shaddup, asshole, it was a rhetorical question.”
     
    I chuckled. Definitely not an officer, that one.
     
    “All you other assholes will hold fire until I give you a direct order, clear?”
     
    A chorus of sheepish voices answered. “Clear, sir!”
     
    “Good. You, behind the corner there. If you’re human, you’ll come out with your hands over your head, and slowly, or you will by-god die where you stand. You get me?”
     
    I grinned again. This guy’s been watching too much Full Metal Jacket . “Yes, sir! Hands over my head and slowly, sir!”
     
    I extended the rifle into view around the corner, keeping it pointed away from the squad, and lowered it to the ground. I held my hands up and inched around the corner, folding them atop my head as I walked forward, swallowing hard at the sight of no less than 10 M16’s pointed straight at my face.
     
    I was about twenty yards away when the man spoke up again. “Alright, that’s far enough. Turn around.” I did so, barely moving. “You been bitten or otherwise wounded, son?”
     
    “Yes, sir.” I closed my eyes as the rifles rose once more to the shoulders of the young soldiers in front of me, and I prayed that they wouldn’t fire as I yelled. “ Not bitten ! I got a piece of fence through my arm, sir, but I wasn’t bitten.”
     
    “Take off your shirt. Slowly.”
     
    Very carefully — and not just because my arm was throbbing by this point after holding it over my head for so long — I removed my jacket and shirt. “Went all the way through, sir.” I pointed out the entry and exit wounds, but he just looked at me.
     
    “Well, if you’re lying, you’re dying, as they say. In any case, you’re a damn sight smarter than some of these jackasses I’ve got here,” he said, jerking a thumb in one grunt’s direction as he rolled his eyes. From the anger I saw on his face, I guessed that was Jenkins.
     
    “Alright, son, get over to the medic and get checked out,” he said. “They’ll let you…”
     
    I interrupted him by fainting as I moved forward, the stress of the past two days — three now, as I noticed the sun coming up — finally catching up with the blood I’d lost. I noticed his name stitched on his uniform as I reached out for him, though.
     
    It can be funny what goes through your mind as you’re passing out from stress and fear and blood loss; for me, it was a completely useless observation.
     
    I’ve never met anyone named Maxwell before.
     
     
    The massacre at Fall Creek changed everything.
     
    With nearly 1,500 people dead, the cover-up was the most massive in AEGIS history. Along with all the civilians killed, the loss of the state troopers, national guard and soldiers in that action caused those in the know in the government to listen to