ARES Virus: Arctic Storm Read Online Free Page B

doesn’t have one of his own nearby.
    “I have a motorcycle,” Mendez says.
    Brown just stares at him, waiting for the ridiculous nature of that statement to settle in. He notes the flash of awareness and the cadet looks away, adding: “But I don’t think that’ll do us any good.”
    A gruff “No shit, Sherlock” almost passes through Brown’s lips, but he lets it slide. After all, they’re in a tense situation where there’s a good chance they won’t make it to sunset. It’s early afternoon and they need to be somewhere safer before dark, preferably out of town. If they can find a vehicle, that could be minutes away. If not, then it will take hours. On foot isn’t preferable, as they’d make little headway compared to the level of risk.
    “Anyone else?” Brown asks.
    “I have a car, but it’s parked across campus,” Clarke chimes in.
    “How far across campus?”
    “Pretty much as far as you could get from here and still be on campus,” Clarke answers.
    “How about you?” Brown asks Hayward.
    “Sorry, Sergeant, I live in the dorms and don’t have a car.”
    Brown pulls a binder out of his drawer and opens it to a small map of the campus.
    “Show me where you’re parked,” he says to Clarke.
    She looks at the map, orients herself, and points to a parking lot that is truly on the opposite side of campus.
    “Okay, that will have to do and we need to get there without running into the crazed fools roaming the grounds. That’s our objective. We stay together and move when I say move, stop when I say stop. Don’t hesitate, just do it. If you see anything, mention it, but do so quietly. Our goal is to not draw attention to ourselves in any fashion,” Brown briefs.
    Brown retrieves a bag and pulls out a pair of oh-my-god-those-are-large boots. As he begins changing, he glances at the cadets’ shoes.
    “Those aren’t going to cut it. Please tell me that you have your gear bags stored in the building and not sitting a mile away.”
    The three have their bags stored in the basement armory, although this “armory” only housed company and platoon guidons, plus the plugged M-1s for the precision drill team—an armory in name only.
    “That’s our first stop,” Brown says, knotting his laces.

Chapter Three
     
    Pineville University
    September 2
     
    Brown releases the mag and looks at the gleaming brass cartridges, assuring himself that he has a full complement on board.
    Twenty-one plus one in the chamber—not a lot of firepower, he thinks, slamming the mag home.
    Turning to the three cadets, towering over them, he states: “I want you three to stay close to me and do exactly as I tell you. You aren’t sightseers on a tour bus. Our objective is to be as small as we can be. The infected seem to be drawn to movement and sound, so don’t be calling out everything you see and bringing attention to us. Is everyone ready?”
    The three nod their understanding. Brown hands his bag to one of the cadets and turns back to the door. He steps forward and pauses. The dark smears on the other side of the opaque glass remind him of what he’s about to walk into. He halts so suddenly that one of the cadets bumps into his back
    “Not that close, numbnuts,” Brown growls over his shoulder.
    This, and with three puppies in tow , he thinks.
    The cadets behind him were forced into service the moment this shit started. They’ll return to cadet status once the situation has been resolved, but for now, Brown considers himself to be in a combat zone—something with which the kids behind him have zero experience. They can complain about their treatment later, but for the time being, they are his charges. He plans on living through this to enjoy his retirement and he’s not going to let decorum stand in the way.
    With his hand poised over the knob, Brown listens for anything that might be on the other side. His heart pounds solidly and his mouth is dry from the adrenaline coursing through his system. He can feel