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place like the wrinkle on his dick. So why would Hanratty tell Terrill Lee that they were landing at Nellis if it weren't so? The bad feeling she'd been having just got a little worse. Maybe they're lying about more than one thing…
    The aircraft lurched. They began circling in for a landing. Miller had not ridden on many helicopters—none until the zombie outbreak. When she had, those situations had not ended very pleasantly for her or her friends. As a result, she preferred to keep her feet on the ground and a loaded Smith & Wesson by her side. At the moment, she had neither . I'm standing naked on a glass trap door, she thought. And I got me some drooling zombies looking up my skirt.
    The huge helicopter touched down gracefully then rocked to and fro. It groaned before settling heavily onto the tarmac. The troops jumped up out of their seats. They were down the cargo ramp in an instant, fanned out into formation, automatic weapons raised. Late afternoon sunshine blazed. Weapons clicked and snapped. Miller had to admit their professionalism gave her a certain sense of security.
    "Nice of you to join us, Penny," said Terrill Lee. "It wouldn't be the same without you."
    Penny shrugged. "Yeah, well, someone's got to make sure that you idiots don't walk off a damn cliff or something."
    "Thanks, Mom."
    "You're welcome, sonny." Neither of them smiled.
    "Can you two believe the arrogance?" Terrill Lee said. He turned away from her, and faced Scratch and Sheppard. His look demanded a response from them.
    Scratch just groaned. "Hey, Sheppard? Do these headphones get a Classic Rock channel? I don't know about you, but I sure as hell don't want to listen to these two ex-lovebirds fight it out all over again."
    Miller held up her hand. "Easy. I didn't come here to fight with anyone, at least no one still alive. I came along hoping to help."
    Sheppard unbuckled his restraints. He walked over to Miller. "How are you feeling, Sheriff? I didn't see you have anything to eat today. Remember, your metabolism is still jacked from the virus and we both know that antidote didn't cure you. You really should be more careful." He jerked his eyes to the side, hinting one more time that the two of them needed to talk privately.
    "I'll be fine," Miller said. "But that ain't a bad idea. I could eat road kill. I think I'll go see if our escorts loaded us up on any C-Rations." Miller released her harness. She patted Sheppard on the shoulder. "Thanks."
    Miller walked down the ramp under the still turning rotors, expecting Sheppard to follow her for a private conversation. She kept her hand on her head to keep her bun from coming apart. Not nice to end up strangling on her own red hair. The desert floor was flat and rocky around the airfield. Beyond the tarmac, for hundreds of yards in every direction, Miller saw nothing but sage and a tall wire fence, with suburbia sprawling just beyond. The sun was intense. Miller squinted. She jogged out of the rotor wash and approached Major Hanratty. One of the men, Psycho, noticed her first. He nodded to acknowledge Miller.
    Rat turned and scowled. "What are you doing out of your seat, Sheriff?" She shouted over the sound of the helicopter's engines. "I don't have time for another chat. Please return to the chopper. We'll be done here soon."
    Miller leaned in close to her ear. "Major, I didn't want to say anything in front of your troops, but you're being a lousy host. My boys and I could use a meal. Sheppard and I can take it to them."
    "Oh, for God's sake…" Rat began. Then she stopped and reconsidered. "Cochrane," she shouted into her microphone after a moment. A pause. "Listen up. Stop what you are doing and break out a few MREs. Our guests are hungry. We may as well grab some chow, too."
    Miller looked up. She spotted where the lanky redhead was standing. She could see his mouth moving, but couldn't hear over the helicopter. Hanratty nodded, and Cochrane left what he was doing. He headed back toward the Super