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All the fear and doubt of the past few days fell away from her, leaving her feeling new. Reborn. Vibrantly aware of everything. Of the salty smell of sweat. The iron taste of the well water lingering on her tongue. Of the air heating rapidly against her skin. The vibration of the tractor through her feet. Even the tiniest details registered in this hyperaware state of hers. It was intense. Almost sexual.

No wonder Ian liked living on the edge if this was the end result of his missions. She could see how it might become addictive.

“I see pavement,” Ian announced.

“Praise the lord.”

“We may still be a ways from a town.”

“But we at least made it to civilization. And a car will drive past eventually,” she replied.

“Assuming this area isn’t totally quarantined and that the cars here didn’t get zapped, also.”

She patted the tractor fender. “That’s okay. We’ve got Big Red. It’s too old to be affected by an EMP.”

“I swear. If we make it out of this alive, I’m taking this tractor back to Pennsylvania, buying me a piece of land, and settling down to farm it. And I’m never leaving it again.”

She blinked up at him. “Really? You’d walk away from being a super-commando?”

He shook his head. “I’ve had some rough missions in my day, but this one takes the cake. And we’re still not in the clear. We’ve got to get someplace cold and get our hands on some of that silver stuff of yours.”

He was right. Celebration now would be premature. They reached the sun-bleached ribbon of gray asphalt, and she turned the tractor in the direction Ian pointed. To the northeast. They’d gone no more than a mile when a green road sign announced that Overton was three miles ahead.

“Can we start celebrating now?” she asked.

Ian shook his head. “Not yet. Phone. Water. Power. Cold.”

“Shower. Food. Bed. Sex,” she added to his list.

“Roger that, baby.”

An intersection loomed ahead, and Piper ran the stop sign, afraid of what would happen if she stopped Big Red and then tried to get it moving again. Not to mention the gas gauge was reading dangerously low, the needle bumping off the peg below the E as the tractor lurched along.

In another five minutes, a building came into sight. And then more buildings. A town. Overton. She reached up and took Ian’s hand, squeezing it convulsively. Had they done it? Had they made it out of Hell for real?

No traffic moved on the main street as they rolled into town. Crap. Had the place been evacuated or something? Surely, people ought to be out driving around at this time of day. It was mid-morning.

A man stepped into the street ahead of them. Waved his arms over his head at them. Big Red drew close enough for Piper to see the guy was wearing a police uniform.

“Stop the tractor!” the man called.

Gladly. Piper stepped on the breaks, which gave a hideous squeal. She turned off the ignition, and Big Red belched a mighty cough of smoke and gave up the ghost.

“We’re under quarantine folks. You have to leave town now, or I’m gonna have to arrest you?—“

Ian jumped down off the tractor and turned to help Piper down. “Officer, we work for the government and need a telephone immediately. It’s a matter of national security. We may know how to stop the virus outbreak.”

The cop looked both startled and relieved. “Come on in the police department. We’ve got a phone working. This is a substation of the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police and we have a dedicated underground phone line to headquarters.”

“Power’s out in Overton?” Piper asked. That might explain why no one had been moving around town. The lights were out and people were hunkering down to ride out the electrical outage.

“Yup. Went out a couple days ago. Everyone who could leave the area did. Headed for places with air conditioning and refrigerators,” the cop answered.

“Are cars in the area running okay?” Ian asked urgently.

Piper winced. If her father’s EMP bomb had exploded successfully, all the modern cars in the region with their internal computers and electronic ignition would be inoperative. Only ancient vehicles like Big Red, with its pre-electronic everything would continue to operate.

The cop frowned. “Yeah. Cars are fine. Why?”