Tommy glanced to his right. Only three soldiers crouched between him and his daughter. He could take them, but he wasn’t sure he would survive. And if he couldn’t get his daughter out of the city, then she would die as well. He curled his toes, flexed the muscles in his legs, and waited for a chance.

Five soldiers crept across Clark. Their rifles were up and ready, eyes alert, sweeping through the thickening smoke. Their boots were silent, hard rubber on pavement. A flickering flash of gunfire exploded from between two of the M939s. One of the soldiers went down. The rest answered immediately, squeezing triggers until the clips were empty.

Another single shot. Another soldier down.

More empty clips dropped. More full magazines were slapped into place.

More shooting. But this time, it came from a totally different direction.

A group of five or six soldiers erupted from the subway steps. They turned as one and fired back down into the subway. One of them suddenly noticed the giant Sikorsky, empty and waiting, in the middle of Daley Plaza. He punched the nearest soldier and pointed. They backed out of the stairs as one and bolted for the chopper.

Phil saw this and screamed, “Stop! Stop! That’s ours!” He sat up on the berm, pulled the girl up by her hair and flung her over the other side. He ran after the soldiers, dragging Grace along. The Sikorsky could seat over thirty passengers, but Phil was afraid it would leave without him. When he got close to the blades he turned and screamed back at Tommy and the remaining soldiers, “Come on! Run!” His hand was starting to cramp on him, so he wound his other hand through Grace’s hair and squeezed.

He flexed his first hand for a while, watching as two soldiers popped out and ran toward him. The soldiers fleeing from the subway started shouting at them. One of the soldiers from the Sikorsky shook his head and gestured at the circle of lights. The subway soldiers didn’t like it, but they took up posts halfway between the spinning blades and the circle of lights.

The soldier in charge jogged over to Phil. “Where’s the patient?”

Phil pointed back at Tommy, who was being pushed over the wall. For a minute, they had to drag him along, but only because he thought Grace was still back behind the berm. When he saw her with Phil near the chopper, he straightened up and walked on his own. The soldiers were content to follow him peacefully, keeping their guns aimed at the ground, as long as he was headed in the right direction.

The soldier nodded and jerked his head back at the chopper. Phil took that as a signal to get onboard, so he pulled Grace with him and climbed through the single door. Inside, an aisle ran up through the rows of seats, three on one side, two on the other. He dragged Grace up to the first row behind the cockpit and threw the girl into the seat nearest the window.

Phil stuck his head into the cockpit. “Soon as the patient is onboard, we’re out of here, you got me?” He left before the pilot could answer and went back down the aisle and stood in the doorway. Tommy was making his way across the plaza, getting closer to the whipping blades, but still moving unbelievably slow.

“Hurry the fuck up!” Phil yelled. His words were lost in the wash of the rotors. No matter. Tommy would be inside the chopper within thirty seconds, and they would be safely in the air, leaving all the shooting and infection and death beneath them. They would deliver Tommy to Dr. Reischtal, and Phil and Lee could take their rightful place in the media as heroes of the pandemic.

Phil was just beginning to bask in the glow of the anticipated admiration, and yes, even awe, when the lights of the city disappeared, plunging Chicago into near total darkness.

Every light surrounding the plaza winked out, and the only illumination left came from the blue flashing lights of the Sikorsky. The soldiers let loose with a few panicked bursts of gunfire, then stopped when they realized they couldn’t see anything. The soldier closest to Tommy said, “Oh . . . you fucking, oh fuck . . .”

Tommy guessed one of the fires or explosions in the subways had fried one of the ComEd transformer stations. It had happened before, leaving most of the Loop without power for a summer afternoon. Beyond that, he ignored the darkness, focusing only on Grace, somewhere on that chopper. It was lit up like an angry, monochromatic Christmas tree, settled in the middle of Daley Plaza and none too happy about it.

As he got closer though, Tommy faced the stark realization that once he was onboard, it would be over. Once he was inside, they would continue to use Grace against him. He was back where he started, powerless while they threatened his daughter.

He ducked under the massive spinning blades, crept to the doorway, and stopped. He’d gotten far enough ahead of the soldiers that he could afford to sit and wait a moment.

Phil stuck his head out and saw Tommy just standing there. It drove Phil crazy. “Get inside, now!”

“No,” Tommy said.

Phil pulled a snub-nosed .38 from his waistband. It looked like something an old-fashioned mobster would carry. Beyond five feet, it was about as accurate as a crumpled paper airplane. He’d be lucky to hit a tank if he was shooting from inside. Phil had waved away the teasing from his buddies at their dinners. “If I’m not up close enough to let this baby take care of a problem, then I deserve to die for being a dumb fuck.”

He shook the pistol at Tommy. “Get in here!”

“Go ahead. Shoot me,” Tommy said, knowing damn well that Phil wouldn’t.

Phil smiled. “Not gonna shoot you, asshole. I’m gonna shoot your fucking daughter.”

Lee came out of the darkness, struggling to pull away from the clutches of Kimmy. She was whimpering, begging for something. Lee ripped his arm out of her grasp. Lee had his own Glock out. He finally shoved it in her chest. “Stupid cunt, shut the fuck up.”

“Thank Christ,” Phil said and pointed at Tommy. “Get this cocksucker on board.”

Lee put the Glock back in his shoulder holster, hopped out of the chopper, and came in low. Tommy tried to pivot, tried to get his arms up, tried to follow the bigger man’s movements, but Tommy hadn’t had anything solid to eat in nearly four days, hadn’t gotten any decent sleep, and simply didn’t know enough about bare-knuckle brawling to stop Lee.

Lee hit Tommy twice, an easy left-right combination that knocked Tommy to the ground. Tommy tried to push himself off the cement, but Lee kicked him in the ribs. And just like that, the fight was finished.

Lee grabbed the back of Tommy’s scrubs and lifted him off the ground. Tommy struggled, but only managed to twist in Lee’s grasp, and clung weakly to Lee’s head and shoulders. He drew back one feeble fist, and Lee drove his own fist into Tommy’s stomach. The air exploded out of Tommy’s lungs and he collapsed in defeat, sliding his hands down Lee’s chest as he crumpled in half. He huddled on the ground, tears spilling down through the dust and grit on his cheeks.

Lee threw Tommy inside the helicopter, then climbed on after him. Kimmy followed.

Tommy tried to crawl down the aisle to reach Grace. Somewhere, he could hear his daughter screaming, “Daddy! Daddy!” He kept crawling forward, head spinning, pain ricocheting through his body.

Shooting erupted outside.

CHAPTER 76

9:11 PM

August 14

It was the infected.

They came swarming out of the darkness, unheard over the throbbing rotors of the Sikorsky. The first soldiers saw them and started shooting immediately. The ear-shattering sound of the gunfire and the muzzle flashes drew the infected like moths to hot neon. They attacked with the speed of shadows, tearing the soldiers apart before the victims’ eyes could adjust to the darkness.