“There’s another,” Shaw said, floating with his face pressed against the telescope viewer. He waved the Commander over. “Looks like Dallas.”
When Vance looked, the flash had faded to a dull orange, and a ring-shaped shockwave was spreading, growing from around the epicenter. “Yeah.”
Shaw asked, “Is this going to work?”
“Fuck if I know. Give them a fighting chance, anyway. Every flash is a million zombies some poor bastard doesn’t have to shoot in the head.”
“Just doesn’t seem right,” the younger astronaut muttered. “Bombing our own cities.”
“I know what you mean. But they’re not our cities anymore.”
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