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boys were out training. He learned his mother’s family recipes, which seemed to impress Afana enough to allow Ivan to continue working in the kitchen instead of going out hunting with the other men.

Jerkins took a look inside the bag and quickly closed it. “Did you touch the head? No, let me rephrase that. Did any fluids from it touch you?” Jerkins stepped away as he spoke.

“No. Only a spot of blood on my boot when I was joking with Knuckles, but I got him to lick it off. You should have seen his fucking face. It was a right gem.”

Jerkins cut the general off, his voice growing higher in pitch with each question. “Did you touch the blood? Did you? Did you get any of it on you?”

“What kind of twisted fucker do you think I am? You’re the second jerkoff today to question me. I didn’t touch the goddamn head much, not like you fucking scientist animals.” Murray felt his blood pressure rising. This place was full of idiots. Sometimes he worried that he was playing the jerk too well, but then again, it had worked for all these years.

“General Murray, I'm actually trying to save your life, so if I were you, I’d be a little bit politer.”

Murray’s face twisted up in confusion. “What the fuck? How are you gonna save my life?”

“Did you look at Ivan's head and see what happened to him?” the scientist asked.

“Yeah, that dumb douche had his head chopped off. It looked like he took a beating, too. He was easy prey.”

Jerkins squeezed the bag so that Ivan’s grotesque face pressed against the plastic. “Take a good look at his face. It looks like there is something else wrong with him.”

Murray peered at it. “Yeah, he’s an ugly-assed ball sack. What’s your point?”

“General Murray, please take this seriously. When my father was alive, the Ebola virus spread through the bunker. It almost wiped out half the population. Another virus down here could be deadly.”

Jerkins closed the bag tightly. He should never have opened it in the first place. The virus could be airborne, and he might have just exposed himself and the general.

Murray protested. “That's bullshit. I never heard this before, and I’m one of the highest generals. I would’ve been told if that was the case.”

“Afana made everyone who survived the virus swear an oath to him that they would never reveal it. He didn’t want people being afraid to stay in the bunker.” Jerkins realized that he’d just broken the oath, but then, he’d never made a promise to keep it a secret. His father had broken the oath when he told Jerkins. “You need to come with me to speak to Afana and tell him everything you know about Ivan. You can’t tell him I told you about the last time there was a virus. If you do, you will be infected.”

General Murray eyeballed Jerkins. “Is that a threat?”

The scientist’s face was stone serious. “No, it's a promise.”

The early morning sun warmed Ryder’s face, coaxing her awake. Her head pounded, and her throat was dry. The pit of her stomach told her something had happened last night, but she didn’t know what. That was never good.

Her body ached when she got up. She’d slept in a weird position, which wasn’t surprising, considering she had slept on rocks. Gathering her belongings, she noticed that two of her arrows were stained with dried, rust-colored blood. The blood could have been from Ivan. She checked her other weapons—there was blood on her ankle knife, too. Ryder hadn’t used it in past fights, so this blood was new.

Ryder wasn’t injured, and she smelled cleaner than she had in a long time. She had a fuzzy memory of being in a pond, which would explain the change. Whatever had occurred with her weapons, it surely happened to someone who deserved it. Even at her drunkest, she was never violent without a good reason.

In one day, she’d had two blackouts. She needed to make sure she didn’t have another. I need a clear head to get the hell out of here and up into the mountains. I hope the town is still there.

She grabbed her stuff and walked toward the pond from the night before since she needed to fill her flask. I will only take little sips. Before she got there, she could see the body of a dead man floating on top of the water. She looked around, but there was no one else. As she got closer, she could see that the water was tinted with blood.

Ryder didn’t waste any time dwelling on her water supply. Maybe it’s a good thing. She headed up a grassy slope to the mountain. It was steep, but the trees overhead made it a little cooler, which was good because she had a long way to go.

Chapter Sixteen

Massimo and Kelvin took care of Scott’s body. They carried it to the church, giving it to the vicar, Jason, to prepare for burial. The vicar would also take care of the funeral arrangements.

The attack had been a violent one. He had seen something like this on television—when there was still television—but Massimo had never experienced anything like it in real life.

The men decided to pay Andrew a visit since he was the only lead they had. Even that was shaky. All they had was Annie telling them not to look into it, which made them suspicious enough to check things out.

Andrew was the town’s blacksmith. He owned a few black horses, which he loved. He also had an apprentice named Graham, who Andrew wasn’t as fond of. Graham did most of the actual blacksmithing work, and Andrew took credit for it. Even after the world went to shit, things like that hadn’t changed. Bosses still took credit for their employees’ work.

As Massimo approached the squat wooden metalworking shop, he heard a hammer striking against metal. Graham was there working, as usual. His shaved head glistened

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