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Now for a grocery store and uninhabited housing. Sedalia offered the best chance of that. Only an hour north.

But a town of its size could be rife with men. I jolted at the shiver that ran down my spine and gripped the steering wheel. Ugly reminders discolored my wrists. My limbs grew numb. My body labored against heavy breathing. The pain in my chest felt like a heart attack. I knew it wasn’t. The sudden sweating, dizziness and accelerated heart rate were telltale symptoms of a panic attack. I needed Joel.

I rolled down the window and gulped fresh air. Then I lit a cigarette. I wasn’t prepared to come to grips with my wounds. Facing one of my own species terrified me far more than fighting an army of blood spitting bugs.

The grocery store would wait. Besides, Darwin kept me fed on fowl and fish. I put the truck in first and headed south. South to MO-64. Then east to I-44. East to Fort Leonard Wood.

If my memory was right, Fort Leonard Wood served as a training facility for the U.S. Army military police. Perhaps I could upgrade to a military SUV and gather more artillery and supplies. Beyond that, I didn’t know what to expect.

An hour later, I passed a guard building surrounded by a towering fence and rolled over the trampled gate. I kept the truck at a crawl, straining my eyes against the pitch-black milieu for signs of life. A light on in a building? A fresh worn track? Movement in the shadows? With only the light from the headlights, an overt assessment was impossible. By what I could see, the base seemed barren.

Then I smelled it. A rot so thick it slid down my throat and met the bile rising there. I choked, buried my nose in the crook of my arm. My foot slid to the brake, my free hand slapping at the window crank. My gag reflex won.

The window half down, I emptied my stomach over both sides of the door. Another choking breath and I retched again.

I wiped my mouth, spun the wheel till it stopped and began a tight three-sixty turn. The headlights illuminated an empty field, a charred building, the entrance to the base, then mountains of…holy fuck. The knot in my gut rushed back to my throat. I held it off, swallowed repeatedly, breathed.

Scatters of arms, legs, gutted torsos, and unrecognizable fleshy parts blotted the horizon, stretching beyond the reach of the headlights. And the faces. Oh God, the faces staring out of the heaps. Men. Women. Aphid. Skin peeling, baked from the sun. Bones exposed, splintered and crushed.

I was out of the truck, moving closer, and realized a person could have too much courage. But I was sure it wasn’t courage. It was a train wreck. I couldn’t look away.

Bodies strewed the ground, piled where they fell, dismembered or eaten. Tanks and other armored vehicles belched human remains. A post-battle wasteland. Perhaps civilians were seeking shelter at the base and killed out of fear of infection. Maybe aphids overran the command post and the residents used up their ammo.

Decayed hands held shotguns and rifles. Empty eye sockets stared into the beam of the headlights. Mouths froze in silent screams. Human and aphid lay side by side in repose. The scene was peaceful. Could’ve been a painting if it hadn’t been so painful look at it. Did anyone survive? My stomach bottomed out. I whirled, carbine raised and searched the night for a breath of life.

Darwin huffed in the cab, ears up, eyes alert. My muscles relaxed. The rot was ripe. It wasn’t a recent battle. Survivors would be gone.

As I drove to the other side of the base, the stench dissipated. Pillaged structures and exsanguinated bodies became fewer and fewer.

Twenty minutes later, I parked in front of a narrow barracks, its two windows and single door untouched. Humping my pack and artillery, I surveyed the perimeter of the building, unable to ignore my exhaustion.

I broke the dead bolt with the butt of the carbine and swept the single room building with the Maglite. Darwin darted in ahead of me and sniffed out every nook. Empty mattresses lay on the bunks. Metal blinds covered the windows. A fucking Ritz Carlton.

I moved a desk in front of the door. With Darwin at my very sore feet, I was certain he would alert me of danger. My head hit the bed and sleep pulled me down.

I sprawled naked in the damp dimness, a stone slab cold against my back. My arms and legs stretched with heavy chains. The aroma of blood burned my nose.

Plip. Plop. Plip. Plip.

Beads tapped my face and trickled down my cheeks. Shallow respiration at my feet broke the rhythm of the dribble.

“Who’s there?”

The blanket of darkness lifted, unveiled a hollow cave. I blinked through the drops in my eyes. My vision clouded under a scarlet hue. Dark rain spotted my body. The ceiling was bleeding.