As I exited the basement and removed the cloth from my face, I found out what the sound had been before. The old woman’s yard was bustling with men in white bio-suits and soldiers in gas masks. In fact, they were everywhere. There were Jeeps and Hummers in the streets and helicopters in the air. Looked like the cavalry had finally arrived . . . too late, as usual.

I was immediately surrounded by soldiers with automatic weapons. They were all barking and yelling at me.

I just smiled. “You guys here to clean up my mess?”

Bang!

I was out cold. If I had to guess, I’d say it was a rifle butt.

When I came to I was in a small office. The walls were gray. So were the floors and ceiling. There was a small table and two chairs on either side. I sat in one. The other was empty. The floors, the whole room actually, hummed and vibrated. I realized then that it wasn’t a room at all, but a mobile interrogation room. The military love their toys.

I wasn’t tied up or handcuffed so I lit a smoke and waited for whoever I was waiting for to show up. I had my worries. If the Feds had moved in for the cleanup, anything was possible, depending on what they found, or thought they found. I didn’t want to get mixed up in any Area 51 bullshit. I also didn’t want Mo’Lock or any of his buddies getting pulled in for questioning. That could lead to big trouble.

About two and a half smokes after I came to, I had company join me in the mobile room. It was an older man, escorted by a couple guards. The older man wore a uniform, but I can never keep which one was which straight, so I’ll guess and say he was Army, and from the amount of shit stuck all over his chest, I’d also guess pretty high ranking.

“Mr. McDonald, my name is General Theodore Adams.”

“Hi, Ted,” I replied.

He was not amused.

He dismissed the guards and sat in the opposite chair without offering to shake my hand. Fine. Fuck ’im.

The general narrowed his eyes at me. “How much do you know about what happened here today?”

“I know I stopped it.”

He wasn’t amused by that either.

“We have taken the ‘object’ from the basement and we have it contained,” the general said.

I nodded. “Any survivors?”

“We found many of the town’s residents hiding in their homes. We’re estimating less than half of Mendez fell under the attack.”

I pointed at him. “I suggest you destroy that ‘object’ before you have another outbreak.”

“We’ll take care of that. Don’t worry, Mr. McDonald.”

“So you know who I am?”