The Most Uncommon Cold I - Life in the Time of Zombies Read Online Free PDF Page A

take me inside.” 
         I wasn ’t sure if he had heard me or not as he continued to stare into the distance for nearly a minute.  Just as I was about to say something else, Wilbur nodded his head slowly, closed up the duffle bag, and stood.  I stood as well, and he led me into the hangar. 
         Inside the hangar, about a hundred empty cots were lined up in neat rows on either side of the building.  A path went straight down the middle, and this is where Wilbur directed me. Despite the lack of bodies in the beds, soldiers with automatic rifles were stationed at the back of each column of cots.  
         “Quite the security force you have here,” I said to no one in particular, and no one is who answered.
         At the back of the hangar in the right corner, partitions like those used to separate beds in a hospital room had been arranged to form a makeshift headquarters. A short stocky sentry standing in front of one of the sides of the temporary office came to attention as we approached. 
         “I’m supposed to bring this guy to the colonel,” Wilbur said sounding much more assertive than he had just minutes earlier.
         Without saying anything or showing any emotion, the sentry pulled back one of the partitions to allow us to pass through. Once inside the improvised command center, I saw the short, bald officer seated behind a battered brown metal desk with a number of walkie-talkies, telephones, maps and weapons laid out before him.  The mirrored sunglasses were now perched atop his shiny bald head.  He was deep in a telephone conversation and did not seem to notice us enter.
         I glanced around the area and had trouble stifling a laugh.  The memory of the blanket “forts” my brother and I made out of our bunk beds when we were kids flashed before me. 
         Wilbur motioned for me to approach the desk.  We stood there waiting for the officer’s conversation to end.  It was quite apparent that the person on the other end of that call was not pleased.  Officer Baldy was doing his best to appease the person.  Abruptly, he put the phone down as if the call had been ended unexpectedly.
         “Corporal Wilbur,” Officer Baldy spoke to the soldier as if I was not in the room.  “What have we got here?”
         “Sir, his wound is not serious.  I applied a dressing to Mister...”
         “Turner,” I offered.  “My name is Kevin Turner.  As I said, I am a reporter for The Marin Gazette .” 
         I noticed “Col. Granger, J” stamped on the officer’s uniform, but if Colonel Granger had heard my answer he did not show it.  Instead, he simply continued to look at my wallet and ID on top of his desk and asked, “What are you doing at the airport today, Turner?” 
         “I had an interview with a customs agent concerning the violent incident that occurred yesterday afternoon.”
         I suddenly had the officer’s complete attention. He considered my words for a moment and then obviously irritated asked, “So what did you learn in your interview?”
         “Well, not much since...” I caught myself and stopped speaking. One thing that I learned in my short time as a reporter is that it is usually better not to reveal any more than necessary. Better to keep some cards close the vest. .  “I know that it was more than just a few drunken passengers getting off a long flight as is the official story coming out from the administration.” Colonel Granger was nodding slightly as he listened to me. 
         Wilbur stepped forward and handed the colonel my wallet.
         “So, Mr. Turner of The Marin Gazette , who did you do this interview with?” He asked slowly as he lifted my wallet to look inside. 
         I smiled and said, “You know that I can not reveal my sources.” 
         “Yeah, I figured you’d come out with some bullshit like that,” Granger in a voice that suddenly sounded terribly