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much larger force of insurgents and Taliban. They had been forced to call in “danger close” artillery fire, the rounds impacted all around and nearly on top of their position. A-10 Thunderbolts, a heavily armored, slow moving, ground attack jet, the ground soldier’s best friend, rolled in time after time making gun runs. The nose mounted Vulcan cannons spit lead, decimating scores of enemy in the process. In the middle of the fighting, each man had vowed, should either one of them die, the survivor would look after the others family.
    Mike Desantos’s phone went to voice mail after the first ring. Cade left a concise message detailing his wife and daughters situation and asked him to be on the lookout for them.

 
     
    Chapter 8
    Day 2, Myrtle Beach, South Carolina
     
     
    Harrison and Peggy Mortenson had lived next to Brook’s childhood home in the subdivision since 1960. They were nonstop news junkies and had been up most of the night, witnessing the contagion spread worldwide. 
    It was now apparent to Brook why her dad had committed the unspeakable act he did. She also feared for her brother and the other workers still at the hospital.  
    "My phone has been acting up and I haven’t heard from my husband since yesterday. This is the first I’ve heard about the contagion that’s going around" Brook said to Peggy.
    Harrison interjected and told Brook about how infection occurs and what happens as a result. In addition, he added as an afterthought, “The president has issued a declaration of martial law. We are in a world of hurt.”
    Armed with this new information, Brook came to the realization that nobody would be coming to investigate what had just happened at her parents’ house, and she surmised that the coroner was not coming for the bodies either.
    “I have to go back and get my phone so I can try to get ahold of your Dad. I want you to come with me.” 
    Shaking her head vigorously side to side, Raven said “no way mom”, while biting her bottom lip, “please don’t make me.” She wouldn’t budge, and wanted no part of going back to Grandma’s house.
    Considering the horrors she had witnessed there minutes ago, Brook didn’t force the issue.
    She reluctantly left her daughter with the Mortensons for a moment and went back to her childhood home one last time.
    The door was ajar and the house smelled like gunpowder and death.  Moving slowly into the kitchen, she could see her mom’s feet clad in the pink slippers she had given her last Christmas.
    Out of the corner of her eye Brook detected movement. She looked closer; her mom’s foot jerked.
    Brook crept around the island and retrieved the shotgun from the bench in the breakfast nook.
    The ghoul sensed her arrival, the bloody remains that were once her loving mom flopped over onto its stomach and proceeded to crawl towards her, bodily fluids leaving a slick trail along the floor. Her undead mom slowly pursued her into the living room leaving her no choice.
    Remembering what Harrison had told her earlier, she aimed directly for the head. Brook closed her eyes for a second and said a little prayer and thought to herself, It’s not you anymore Mom, I love you and I’m sorry I have to do this.
    She pulled the trigger and the shotgun roared, the second random shell that she had inserted happened to be a slug, the round ruptured her mom’s head, peppering the hallway with brain matter, hair and bone fragments. She started sobbing as the realization that both of her parents were now dead suddenly hit her like a ton of bricks. She still had her daughter that much she knew; silent prayers went out to her husband Cade, whom she missed terribly.
    Brook ran up the stairs, two at a time and went into her old room. Her phone was in her carry on, where it had been since she last talked to Cade. Bag in hand she went downstairs heading for the door.
    Raven ran from the neighbor’s house when she heard the shotgun report and was tentatively peering into