The Infection

He puts his arm around her and she snuggles close, her eyes glassy.

“A tribe,” she agrees, and sighs.

“We’ll be together.”

“No matter what.”

Odd that they should reject the security of the camp for the brutality of the road, which just claimed two of their friends. They know it is insane, but they feel safe out here. They understand it. And strangely, they feel they must go on facing it in order to continue earning the right to be alive when so many died.

Survival, it seems, is also a state of mind. And it carries a steep price.

“Sarge!” Steve calls out.

“What’s up?”

The gunner grins at him. “Listen.”

The pounding of rotors in the distance, growing louder.

Sarge and Wendy turn and see five black objects moving slowly across the sky in formation.

“God,” Sarge says, raising the binoculars to his eyes. “I can’t believe it.”

“What is it? Toby, what is it?”

He lowers the binoculars slowly, smiling in a daze. “Chinooks. Big helicopters, troop carriers, moving west.”

“How? Who are they? Where are they going?”

“It’s the Army, babe. The Army. Here, take a look.”

Sarge hands her the binoculars. She watches the helicopters move across the sky. There is an elegance to the ungainly beasts that she finds inspiring.

“See that?” he says, sounding wistful.

Behind the first formation, another approaches, five black dots in the sky heading west.

Wendy nods, swallowing hard. Tears roll down her cheeks and she smiles.

“Look at them go,” he adds.

America’s far-flung armies are coming home.

The fight is not over. It is only getting started.

The counterattack has begun.