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The reporter said that the quarantine zone included large parts of Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, and Ohio.

They stared at each other, stunned by this. Not believing it. Unable to not believe it.

They looked around them. The California sun was still shining. Birds coasted on the thermals high above them. Children played in front yards.

The reporter said that the estimated death toll might reach half a million.

Mary said, “What?”

All Albert could do was shake his head.

This happened while they slept in an airport hotel. While they were in the air. But it must have started while they were still in Pittsburgh. It had to have been mere miles from them.

How did they not know about it?

How could something this big have spread so fast?

Mary coughed again and wiped at her mouth.

Albert didn’t much notice it this time. His mind was reeling.

Then Mary coughed again. Much harder. Much louder. It doubled her over, and Albert lunged to catch her.

“Jesus Christ,” he cried as she sagged against him. “Are you all right?”

She wiped her mouth with the back of one trembling hand.

And the moment froze for both of them as they stared with abject horror at the wetness smeared across her hand.

It was not the colorless wetness of spit.

Nor was it blood.

It was black.

And in the black wetness, small white shapes wriggled.

Mary screamed.

Albert screamed, too.

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-FIVE

SAPPHIRE FOODS

ROUTE 40

FAYETTE COUNTY, PENNSYLVANIA

They hurried outside and stood on the dock, watching with sagging hearts and growing horror at the roads beyond the fence. Dez felt like she was caught in an endless loop. This was the schoolyard all over again except there was a forty-foot-wide gap in the fence.

Sam turned to his team. “We need to secure that fence right now.”

Charlie stared at the approaching wall of the dead. “Hope you don’t expect me to—”

“No,” said Sam tightly, “you can go back inside and help Dez find what she needs. Do it fast and do it now.”

Charlie cut a look at Dez and straightened as if realizing how bad his remark sounded. “Hey, don’t get me wrong, I’d hold the line but I don’t got a gun.”


Tags: Jonathan Maberry Dead of Night Horror