Ashes

World Population

3,001,598,414

Change

— 2,842,431,503

22

Something pushed against Brandon’s back. More asleep than awake, he scooted to the edge of his bed to get away from whatever it was.

Another nudge. This time he flopped his arm behind him to push it away. When he realized he was touching someone, he jerked back his hand and twisted around.

“Loni?” he whispered.

She was lying in the bed next to him, her lips trembling.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I…I’m scared. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“We’re all scared,” he said, trying to calm her down.

“No. I mean someone in my cabin is…is…”

“Is what?”

“Coughing.”

He sat up. “Are you sure?”

She nodded.

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

Across the room, somebody turned in his bed and sniffled.

Loni’s eyes widened. “Oh, no.”

Brandon waited to see if a cough would follow, but none did.

“You’re sure you weren’t dreaming it?” he said.

“I’m sure.”

“Which cabin are you in?”

“Six.”

He swung out of bed, slipped on his shoes, and grabbed his jacket.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“To check.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I do, but…just come with me.”

Quietly, they crossed the room and went outside. Brandon let Loni lead him to her cabin. They cracked open the front door but remained on the stoop. At first all was quiet, and he started to think what she’d heard was probably someone clearing their throat while they slept. His dad did that all the time. But then someone coughed. Deep and wet.

A moment later there was a second cough, only this one came from the other side of the room.

Loni pulled at his arm. “Close it.”

She didn’t need to tell him twice.

“See, I was right,” she said. Her lower lip began to tremble. “That means we’re all going to get it, doesn’t it?”

One of the videos the Resistance had made explained what to do if someone thought they’d been exposed. Brandon had seen it multiple times. “Go to the showers,” he told her. “Scrub yourself as hard as you can.”

“The showers?”

“Right now,” he said. “If any got on you, you might still be able to wash it off.”

It took her a second before she seemed to get it.

As she was turning to run to the showers, he said, “Don’t put those clothes back on, and don’t touch them after you’re done. I’ll bring you some clean ones.”

She nodded and left.

The first thing he needed to do was wake up Mrs. Trieb and tell her what was going on. Maybe they could separate the sick ones and save everyone else. With the exception of Miss Collins, who was sleeping in the cabin with the younger children, the supervisors were in cabin number eight, two down from Loni’s. He ran there and was about to pull open the door when someone inside broke out in a coughing fit.

Backing away, he heard more coughs — not just from numbers six and eight, but from all the cabins except his and the one the little kids were in.

There would be no isolating the ill, but maybe there were a few others he could get out before the infection reached them.

He entered his cabin first and grabbed his pack, but just as he was about to start waking his dorm mates, the person he’d heard sniffle earlier coughed.

It’s everywhere!

He headed for the door, but stopped before he reached it. Maybe there were a few here he could still save. He shook the feet of the boys in the four beds closest to the door. Only two opened their eyes.

“What’s going on?” a kid named Vincent said.

“We’ve got to get out,” Brandon told him.

“Why?”

There was no need for Brandon to answer. Another cough did the job for him.

Vincent and the other boy, Carter, jumped from their beds.

“Grab your bags but don’t open them,” Brandon said. He explained about taking showers, and getting rid of the clothes they were wearing. “Wash off your bags first, though. Then you can take something out to wear.”

Another head popped up, this one a sniffling mess. “Shut up, huh? Trying to sleep.”

Vincent and Carter snatched up their bags and headed for the door. Brandon surveyed the room, but knew there was no one else left he could help, so he followed a few seconds after the other two boys.

He headed for the little kids’ cabin, and paused outside. No hacks or sniffles coming from inside.

Good.

He reached for the handle, but stopped himself before grabbing it. There had been coughing in his cabin. Was it possible that though he couldn’t get the flu himself, he might be contaminated? If so, while he tried to save the kids, he would actually be killing them.

He took a step back. “Don’t let them catch it,” he whispered. He spun around and ran for the showers.

Entering, he could hear Loni washing off on the other side of the partition.

“I’ll bring you something to wear as soon as I’m done washing,” he shouted loudly enough for her to hear.

“Okay,” she replied.

He scrubbed himself raw, and repeated the process with his bag. When he was done, he pulled out a set of clothes for himself and one for Loni. She was smaller than he, but it was the best he could do for now.

“When you’re done,” he said to Vincent and Carter as he finished dressing, “meet at the cafeteria. If I’m not there yet, gather up some food. Enough for a few days.”

“Where are you going?” Vincent asked.

“To check if there’s anyone else we can help.”

He tossed the other set of clothes through the opening to the girls’ shower, and gave Loni the same instructions he’d given the boys. He then jogged over to the little kids’ cabin.

Once again, he paused outside. No sniffles. No coughs. No clearing of throats. Only quiet.

“Thank you,” he mouthed.

He opened the door and eased inside. Miss Collins’s bed was easy to pick out. Though she wasn’t a tall woman, she was twice the size of the kids in the cabin.

Kneeling beside her bed, he shook her shoulder. “Miss Collins? Miss Collins, wake up.”

She took in a deep breath and rolled onto her back, but didn’t wake.

“Miss Collins, please.”

Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. A second passed before she noticed he was there. “Brandon? What are you doing in here?”

“We have to get the kids out.”

She blinked, and rose on an elbow. “Why? What happened?”

“The others are sick.”

She stared at him as if she didn’t understand. “They…can’t…be. We’ve taken precautions.”

“Yeah, I know, but people are coughing in all the other cabins. If we don’t get the kids in here out right now, they’ll catch it, too.”

She swung her legs off the bed and stood up. “What about the staff cabin? Mrs. Trieb? Have you let her know?”

“I couldn’t. They’re sick, too.”

She took a step toward the door before looking back at him. “I…I need to check.”

“We don’t have time.”

“You get the kids up. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t go inside,” he called after her as she ran out the door. “Just listen from outside.”

Whether she heard him or not, he didn’t know.

Brandon moved quickly through the room, checking each of the kids to make sure they didn’t have a fever. When he was confident the flu hadn’t infected any of them, he turned on the cabin light and said, “Hey, everyone, time to wake up.”

A few groans and some twisting in beds, but no heads popped up. He went around, pulling back their blankets and shaking their feet.

“Come on! Let’s go!”

This time several of the children sat up.

“What time is it?” one of the boys asked.

“It’s time to get up,” Brandon said.

He knew they should all take showers, too, but it would be harder to get them washed up and ready to go. Plus, it would delay their departure, and that was not something Brandon wanted to do.

Hoping none of them had been exposed, he said, “Everyone get dressed. Something warm, okay?”

The girl in the last bed stared at him, a bear hugged to her chest. He walked over to her.

“Ellie, right?” he said.

She nodded.

“You need some help?”

“I don’t have any more clothes,” she told him.

“That’s okay. Let me see what I can find, all right?”

He gathered items from some of the other kids. Like the clothes he’d given Loni, these would be big on the girl, but they’d do.

As he was helping her dress, the cabin door opened and Miss Collins walked back in. It was clear from the stunned expression on her face what she’d discovered.

Brandon helped Ellie pull her jacket on, then, after making sure she had her bear, he picked her up and hurried over to the supervisor.

Stopping a few feet away, he said, “You didn’t go in, did you?”

Miss Collins shook her head. “No.”

“But you heard the coughs.”

A nod.

“Then you know we need to get out of here.”

No response this time.

“Miss Collins!” he yelled.

She jerked and focused on him.

“We need you to be okay. You’re the only adult.”

A stuttering breath and then a nod. “You’re right. You’re right. I…I’ll be okay.”

Since she had been near the infected cabins, he told her she should take a shower and change clothes. “I’ll take everyone over to the cafeteria, and we’ll meet you there as soon as you’re done. Don’t take long, okay?”

“I…I understand, Brandon. I’ll be quick.”

He kept everyone away from her as she gathered her bag and left again.

As soon as the door closed behind her, he said, “Okay, we’re going over to the cafeteria.”

“What about Miss Collins?” one of the kids asked.

“She’ll join us in a few minutes. Is everyone ready?”

Tired nods all around.

“Then follow me.” With Ellie in his arms, and the others trailing behind, Brandon went out the door.

Ten minutes passed before Miss Collins showed up. In the intervening time, Loni, Vincent, and Carter put together several bags of food, while Brandon worked on how they would get out of there.

They could hike, but who knew how far they would have to go before they reached a house or building they could take shelter in. Too far, probably, especially with seven little kids. The only real answer was down at the end of the cafeteria.

Sergeant Lukes’s Suburban SUV.

Brandon checked the vehicle, hoping the keys would be inside, but they weren’t. He would have to get them from Sergeant Lukes himself in the staff cabin.

Grabbing another change of clothes from his bag, he stopped by the showers first, leaving them on one of benches inside before heading to the staff cabin. The chorus of coughing had increased since his last visit. Even though he knew he was immune, it scared the hell out of him to be so close to the disease, but he also knew it was this immunity that was going to allow him save the others.

He took several deep breaths to work up his courage, and finally pulled the door open. He moved slowly into the room, gently transferring his weight from foot to foot so that the floorboards would creak as little as possible. Sergeant Lukes’s bed turned out to be the second one in on the left. Like the others, his breathing was labored.

Brandon found the sergeant’s pants folded neatly on top of his shoes beside the bed. He checked the pockets. No keys. The man’s jacket was lying on the empty bed beside him. No luck there, either. The only other place to look was in the sergeant’s bag, which he found tucked under the bed.

Carefully, he worked it out from beneath. The zipper proved to be a problem, though. There was nothing he could do to muffle the sound it made. He was halfway through when he heard someone stir and sit up. He dropped out of sight between the beds. If it had been Sergeant Lukes, Brandon would have been discovered in seconds, but the sergeant was out cold.

After a few seconds, Brandon chanced peeking over the top of the empty bed next to the sergeant.

Mrs. Trieb was the one awake. She was sitting up, but her head was in her hands. Several more seconds passed before she groaned and lay back down.

Knowing he couldn’t chance opening the zipper any more, he slipped his hand in the bag and felt around until his fingers touched the keys.

It took every ounce of will to walk out of the cabin as slowly as he’d walked in, but once he was outside, he raced to the showers.

When he finally returned to the cafeteria, he found the others, including Miss Collins, sitting at tables nearest the door, bags of food piled in front of them.

“Grab as many bags as you can,” he said to the three older kids, “and follow me. Miss Collins, you stay with the kids, okay?”

She nodded absently.

He snatched up four of the bags himself, and led the others out to the Suburban. It took them two trips to get everything out and fill up the storage area in back.

When they finished, Brandon went over to Miss Collins and whispered, “Are you okay?”

“Where are we going to go?” she asked, as if whatever they did was going to fail.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But we’ll figure that out later. Right now we just need to get away from here.” He paused. “We need you to help us. You can’t give up.”

“I…I’m not,” she said. “I’m just…” She closed her eyes for a second and rubbed her forehead. “Okay, okay. No problem. I’ll be fine.”

“Can you help with the kids?” Brandon said.

She nodded and stood up. “All right, everyone,” she announced. “We’re going out to the Suburban. It’ll be a bit of a squeeze, but you should all be able to fit.”

“Where are we going?” one of the kids asked.

“On a field trip,” Miss Collins told her.

“Where?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

“This way,” Brandon said, opening the door.

With him in the lead and Miss Collins bringing up the rear, they headed out. They were only halfway to the SUV when a voice called out, “What’s going on here?”

Brandon stopped in his tracks and twisted around. Mrs. Trieb was standing at the far end of the parking area near the dorms, staring at them. He knew in his gut that if he hadn’t disturbed her sleep, she would have never gotten up.

She sniffled and ran a hand under her nose. “I asked you a question. What the hell’s going on?”

“Get them in the truck,” Miss Collins whispered toward Brandon. She then turned toward her boss. “Alicia, look at yourself.”

“Keep going, everyone,” Brandon said, getting the kids moving again.

“You’re sick,” Miss Collins went on. “You’ve got the flu.”

“Sick? What are you talking about? I’m not sick. It’s a headache, that’s all.” As if to emphasize the point, Mrs. Trieb touched her temple and winced. “Get those children back to their beds.”

“You are sick,” Miss Collins told her. “And it’s not just you. These kids are the only ones who aren’t. I have to get them out of here before they get sick, too. You would do the same. If you don’t believe me, go back to the dorms and listen to the coughs.”

With another wipe of her nose, Mrs. Trieb started walking toward the group, her balance far from perfect. “Everyone, back to your beds!”

“Alicia, please!” Miss Collins shouted, moving to keep herself between Mrs. Trieb and the others. “If you get too close you’ll expose them, too! I know you don’t want that.”

Brandon ran the last few feet to the Suburban and threw open a side door. “Everybody in. Quick.”

The ones closest to him piled in, but those in back looked unsure of what to do as they glanced between him, Miss Collins, and Mrs. Trieb.

“It’s going to be okay,” Loni said, urging the younger ones along.

After the last of them was in the car, Vincent and Carter followed.

“You, too,” Brandon said to Loni.

“What about you?”

“Just get in and keep them calm. I’ll be right there.”

Reluctantly, she climbed inside.

“Hey!” Mrs. Trieb yelled as she altered her course toward Brandon. “You get them out of that car right now!”

Miss Collins repositioned herself in front of her boss again. “Alicia! Stop! You don’t want to do this!”

“Shut up, bitch!”

Mrs. Trieb was fifty feet away from the Suburban, Miss Collins twenty feet in front of her.

“Get in the car,” Miss Collins said to Brandon.

He hesitated a moment before climbing into the front passenger seat. As soon as the door closed, Miss Collins turned and ran for the SUV. When she reached the truck, she circled around the front to the driver’s side door.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Trieb had also picked up her pace. Though she wasn’t as fast as Miss Collins, she was able to round the hood just as the younger woman pulled on the door handle.

“You’re not going to make it!” Brandon yelled.

Miss Collins looked over at her colleague, and realized Brandon was right. She let go of the door and ran around the back end of the truck. Brandon reached over and pressed the door lock button. There was a loud clunk as all the locks engaged. Behind him, many of the kids started to cry.

“It’s okay,” Loni said. “We’re going to be fine.”

Brandon hopped over the center console into the driver’s seat.

“What are you doing?” Vincent asked.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?”

Brandon moved the seat as far forward as it would go, helping his foot reach the pedals.

“You know how to drive?” Carter asked.

“Uh-huh.” Brandon started the engine.

“I don’t believe you,” Vincent said. “Who taught you?”

“My dad,” Brandon said. “Now be quiet so I can pay attention.” He moved the transmission into Drive and sped forward.

“What about Miss Collins?” Loni asked.

Brandon didn’t answer. Before he reached the end of the parking area, he turned the truck back around and stopped there as he scanned the area for Miss Collins.

“Where is she?” he asked. “Do any of you see her?”

“I don’t know,” Loni said.

Mrs. Trieb had once more changed directions and was now heading for the cafeteria entrance.

Brandon rolled down his window and yelled, “Miss Collins!” When she didn’t appear, he honked the horn and called her name again.

Mrs. Trieb turned to look at the truck, twisting her whole body as if the muscles in her neck no longer worked.

“Miss Collins!”

A door slammed somewhere. Not near the cafeteria, but in the direction of the dormitories.

“You kids get out of there,” Mrs. Trieb yelled, her voice barely audible above the Suburban’s engine. “Go back to your cabins.” Miss Collins seemingly forgotten, she lurched toward them again.

Movement to the left caught Brandon’s attention. Two of the older boys were coming down the path from the dorms, one holding a hand over his mouth as he coughed.

We have to get out of here, Brandon thought.

“Miss Collins!” he yelled again. “Where are you?”

A head poked out from behind the far end of the cafeteria — Miss Collins, looking nervous and scared.

“Everyone hang on,” Brandon said as he rolled up his window.

He switched his foot from the brake to the accelerator, and drove in a wide arc around Mrs. Trieb over to the cafeteria. As he neared the logs that marked the back of the lot, he tried to do one of the tricks his father had shown him, slamming on the brakes as he whipped the wheel around.

The Suburban tipped violently to the left, the wheels on the passenger side all but leaving the ground. Almost everyone in back screamed. The truck rocked back to the right, then left, then right again before settling back down.

“Whoa!” Vincent said. “Your dad taught you that?”

Brandon lowered his window again and yelled at Miss Collins, “Hurry!”

She broke from the building and ran around the back of the truck. Just as she got to the passenger door, Brandon pushed the Unlock button. She yanked the door open, and jumped into the seat. The second the door was closed again, Brandon relocked everything.

“You want to drive?” he asked.

She shook her head, her face strained with fear. “You seem to be doing fine.”

Brandon did a quick look around. Mrs. Trieb was a good thirty feet away, still heading toward them. The two boys who’d come out of the dorm were standing near the end of the path, and a few others had staggered outside to see what was going on.

“Get us out of here,” Vincent said.

Not needing further encouragement, Brandon gunned the engine, slalomed around Mrs. Trieb, and raced out to the road that would take them away from Camp Kiley.

23

The only things I can get on TV now are infomercials and movies. Most of the stations are no longer broadcasting. Either they have a logo just sitting there or the channel has gone completely dark. In a way, that’s even scarier than when they were showing what was going on.

So far, no one has tried to get onto my floor. Thought I heard a noise in the stairwell earlier in the evening, but if it was someone, they didn’t come up this high. I think that’s probably my best safety feature. Anyone who’s sick won’t have the energy to climb more than a floor or two, and if what the news had been saying is correct, then pretty much everyone is sick.

The thing that’s been worrying me the most has been the elevator. It’s the easy way up. I had blocked the entrance, but it wouldn’t take much to get through my barricade. I finally decided I needed to take a chance and do something a bit more drastic.

I hunted through some of the other rooms, and found a rain slicker that went down past my knees, some rubber boots, and a pair of skiing gloves. (By the way, if for some reason everything goes back to normal, I’m probably going to be on the hook for the cost of the door to Kendal’s room. I just figured it would be cheaper to bust into hers, since she’s our resident advisor, and find her master keys than to break through all the doors.) I also took one of the medical masks out of the floor’s first-aid kit, and my roommate’s swimming goggles.

When I put everything on and pulled the hood over my head, I’d created what would probably be a pretty good Halloween costume. (No, I didn’t think that at the time. I’m trying to be clever in hindsight. It’s helping me to keep my sanity.)

I dismantled my barrier, and, well…

I don’t know how long I stood in front of the elevator dressed like that before I finally pushed the button to call up the car. I knew it was risky, but there was no way I was going to be able to sleep very well until I was sure the elevator was out of service.

I moved back as far as I could while still able see inside the elevator when the door opened. My biggest fear was that there would be someone in the car. Dead or not really didn’t matter; either would probably mean my death. But if you had asked me at that point which I preferred, I would have said a dead body. The sight of someone stepping out, coughing and sneezing, might have been enough to give me a heart attack.

Thankfully, the car was empty. I had intended to race over right away, then use Kendal’s elevator key to put it in fire mode, which, if I remembered correctly, would send the car back to the first floor, where it would stay unless another key was used to reactivate it. But when the door opened, I froze.

“Come on,” I told myself after it closed again. “You’ve got to do this.”

I willed myself back to the call button and pushed it again, which wasn’t easy. I don’t think my hand had ever felt that heavy. As soon as the door reopened, I stepped inside, and pivoted around so I was facing the control panel. The key slipped right into the slot, but I turned it the wrong way first and all the lights inside went off. After cursing at myself, I flipped it in the other direction.

Immediately, the lights turned back on and the door started to close. I nearly panicked, thinking I was going to be trapped inside. Without thinking, I threw my arm in between the doors and broke the electronic beam. I can’t even describe the relief I felt when the doors opened again.

I jumped out, but kept a booted foot pressed against the door so it would remain open. With the alarm inside beeping, I stripped off my homemade protection suit and threw it piece by piece into the elevator car, gloves and boots last. The gear would have been nice to hold on to, but I figured I should be able to scrounge up another set if I need it, and I didn’t want to take the chance that any of the Sage Flu virus had transferred to the other stuff I was wearing.

As soon as the door was freed, it closed all the way, and the car descended back to the main lobby.

Now I am truly alone but, hopefully, safe. If that means I’m going to be the last person on Earth, I’m not sure how I feel about that. But I have to believe that if I’m able to survive, others will, too.

Of course, survival is contingent on staying away from the virus. What I don’t know — and there probably won’t be anyone who can tell me — is will I ever be able to leave the building? At some point I’ll have to, but will the virus still be active then?

I’m sure starting to wish I’d majored in biology instead of English. I tried looking for more information on the Web, but the Internet connection here at the dorm stopped working around dinnertime. I still have a Wi-Fi signal; it’s just that the main modem isn’t able to connect to anything. We’ve had problems with that modem before, so I think it probably just needs to be rebooted. The Internet should still be out there. Whether there’s any new information being posted anywhere is a whole other question.

I think the modem is located on the floor below mine. If I can work up the courage, I’ll go try to reboot it. I really need to get it working if I’m going to put together an accurate timeline of what’s been happening. I’ve been writing as much about the pandemic as I can up to this point, but most of my information has only come from what I saw on TV. I need more.

Maybe no one will ever read my history of events, but someone has to write it, right? And it’s not like I have a lot of other things keeping me busy.

To be totally honest, there’s actually a second reason to get the Internet going again. If there are other survivors, I might be able to find them online. Even if they’re halfway around the world, it would be nice to know I’m not completely on my own.

Sleep now, though. In the morning, when it’s lighter (if I can get my courage up), I’ll tackle the modem.

24

Sanjay stepped with care as he approached the back of the building. Dozens of birdcages lined the pathway, two or three chickens in each, some dead, others looking well on the way. It wasn’t the flu that was taking their lives, not directly, anyway. It was the fact they had not been fed in at least a couple of days, their owners gone.

Sanjay was tempted to pour some feed into their cages and give them fresh water, but the building needed to be checked before anything else.

“Maybe I should go in first this time,” Kusum whispered behind him.

He glared at her to let her know he was more than capable of doing it himself. She merely rolled her eyes and smirked.

He couldn’t help but smile a little. He loved her smirk. He loved her eyes, rolling or not. He loved everything about her. Which was a good thing since she was now his wife. The roadside ceremony the day before had been brief. Sanjay had expected Kusum’s father to protest, but with death all around them, maybe it wasn’t so surprising that his new father-in-law actually blessed their union.

The back door was unlocked. When he pulled it open, he braced himself for the now familiar stench of death, but there was none. Either whoever lived there was still breathing, or they had died somewhere else, a promising possibility.

He stepped across the threshold. “Hello?” he said. “Hello, is anyone here?”

As he moved farther inside, Kusum followed.

“Hello?” he said again. He was just turning back to her to say he didn’t think anyone was there, when they heard the sound of movement coming from somewhere deeper in the building.

“I will check,” Kusum whispered, pushing past him.

“No.” He tried to grab her, but she slipped by. If he could have used both hands, maybe he would have stopped her, but his left arm was still wrapped to his chest, keeping the shoulder he’d dislocated four days earlier as immobile as possible. “Kusum. Come back.”

He knew the second he spoke he shouldn’t have wasted his breath. Kusum had changed since the outbreak started. Her good qualities were all still there: her playfulness, her smile, her kind words. But she was no longer the somewhat timid person he’d first met. She saw herself now as his equal, and acted as such. That wasn’t the way things had been in the world they’d grown up in, where it wouldn’t have mattered whether she was actually his equal or not. Stupid times, he knew now. In this new world they had entered, they couldn’t afford to continue old, useless customs. She was his equal, and he was glad for it.

This, of course, didn’t mean she should have gone first.

The building was a maze of rooms and hallways, some piled high with boxes and others with desks and beds. The sign on the road leading to the property had indicated it was a school.

The night after Sanjay had been reunited with Kusum and her family — and, surprisingly, with the group of survivors her family had collected on the way — they had discussed the need to find shelter someplace away from any large population center. There, they could wait out the outbreak and make plans for what they should do next.

Finding the right place, though, was the problem. They drove farther inland, away from Mumbai, in the truck Kusum’s family had arrived in, thinking they might be able to find a farm or small village they could essentially take over. Unfortunately, everywhere they checked was already occupied by those who’d succumbed to the virus.

Though each member of their group had been inoculated with the vaccine Sanjay had stolen, no one was ready to move the dead to free up space. What they needed was someplace empty.

It was Jabala, Kusum’s sister, who’d come up with the best idea. “Most schools are on winter break. And if we can find a boarding school, that would be perfect, wouldn’t it?”

So for the last two days, they had concentrated on schools. Most of the ones they found were for local children and didn’t have any extra housing. While they could’ve sufficed, Sanjay and the others weren’t ready to give up on the idea of finding actual beds.

They had come across the first boarding school the previous afternoon, and a second one that morning. The first had been taken over by another group after the virus had been released, but the flu had not passed them by, and while only a few were already dead, the rest were well on their way.

The school from that morning had been empty, but the condition of the buildings and the furniture inside indicated it hadn’t been used in years. They had decided if they could find nothing else in the next day or two, they would come back.

They had found the bordering school where they were now — the fourth one — because of a sign they’d seen along the highway. It was built out in the countryside, with a private, gated road. There were several buildings, probably containing classrooms, a dining hall, and perhaps even a gymnasium. There was a single English-style house near the center that was probably home to the headmaster. The dormitories were located along the back. Since that was most likely where anyone who might still be around would be located, that’s where Sanjay and Kusum, as the self-designated search party, headed first.

They heard the sound again. It sounded like a piece of furniture scraping across the floor, in short bursts.

“Careful,” Sanjay said as they drew near.

Kusum waved her hand in the air without looking back, telling him she wasn’t an idiot.

The sound was coming out a doorway ten feet ahead. The door itself was cut in half, the top portion open, while the bottom was closed.

The scraping stopped, replaced by a short, hoarse Ap, ap!

Someone was in there and still alive, Sanjay realized. The place wasn’t as deserted as he had hoped. Still, only one person was better than the dozens of dead bodies they’d run into elsewhere.

Kusum hugged the wall as she approached the doorway. When she reached the edge, she leaned forward just enough to spy inside.

Ap! Ap! Ap! Ap!

More scraping.

Kusum laugh as she stepped away from the wall, moving in front of the half door.

Ap! Ap! Ap! Ap!

“What is it?” Sanjay asked, quickly following her.

The space on the other side was a communal toilet area and shower room. Old green tiles covered almost every surface. In the middle of the room, directly beyond the doorway, was a wooden table sitting at an odd angle. The reason for this was obvious. Strapped to one of the legs was a leather leash that, in turn, was connected to a dog about the size of Sanjay’s forearm. At the sight of them, it jumped up and down.

Ap! Ap! Ap! Ap!

Its bark was odd, as if its vocal chords had been removed. Perhaps they had been, or, more likely, Sanjay thought, its voice was strained from barking for days on end.

Kusum opened the door.

“Wait,” Sanjay said. “It may bite.”

“I am sure it will,” she said. “Look how hungry it is.”

From the bag over her shoulder, she pulled out a stale roll and tossed it onto the ground in front of the dog. The animal instantly pounced on it, and began tearing at the crust.

Sanjay noticed a water bowl against the wall, where the table had probably once been. The bowl was empty, so he took it over to the sink and filled it, then scooted it in front of the dog with his foot.

The dog stopped eating right away and switched to the water.

“We need to finish looking around,” Sanjay said.

Kusum nodded, and said to the dog, “We will be right back.”

As they walked out of the room, the dog looked up and began barking again.

“I promise we will not be long,” Sanjay said.

Ap! Ap! Ap! Ap!

Kusum returned to the dog.

“What are you doing?” Sanjay asked.

“She’s afraid of being left alone again.”

“She?” Sanjay asked.

Kusum glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. “Please tell me you know how to tell the difference.”

Ignoring her comment, he said. “She will be fine. We need to finish. The others are waiting.”

Instead of getting up, Kusum held her hand out to the dog, who sniffed it, then licked Kusum’s fingers.

“See?” Kusum said. “She’s friendly.”

She removed the leash from the leg of the table. With the dog in tow, she walked back to the doorway. “Let’s go, Mr. Impatient.”

They found three bodies at the school — an older couple, who they assumed was husband and wife, in the caretaker’s apartment in back of the kitchen; and a middle-aged Caucasian man in the headmaster’s house.

Since Sanjay could not help, Kusum and her father — after carefully wrapping themselves in protective clothing — carried the bodies out to a ditch others had dug in the jungle. They burned the bodies, and buried the remains deep enough so that no animal could drag a piece back into the compound.

Once this was done, they divided up the rooms in the main dormitory. That evening, after most of the children were asleep, Sanjay, Kusum, her parents, and the four other adults who had joined Kusum’s family on their exodus from Mumbai gathered in the living room of the headmaster’s house. The dog, which Kusum had started calling Jeeval, had staked a claim to Kusum’s lap.

“There’s enough food in the cafeteria to last us a week, maybe two. That is, if you only want to eat rice the second week,” Kusum’s mother said.

“What about the chickens?” Kusum’s father suggested.

“The chickens are weak and skinny. We need to nurse them back. And we will need most of them for eggs.”

“Tomorrow we should send out search parties and gather what we can,” Sanjay said.

“We should also put together a list of non-food items we need,” Kusum suggested. “Medicine and soap and clothes, for instance.”

“Excellent idea,” Sanjay said.

Kusum found a pad of paper and a pen, and they began brainstorming other things they could use.

After a while, Naresh, one of other adults, said, “A radio would be good.”

The woman named Ritu pointed across the room, at a stereo on the shelf next to the television. “There’s one right there.”

“Not that kind of radio,” Naresh said. “One for talking.” He looked at Sanjay. “Some people have shortwave radio and can talk to others all over the world. There has to be more survivors. We cannot be the only ones. Maybe they also have radios, and we can connect with them.”

“Couldn’t we just try using a cell phone?” another woman, Bhakti, asked.

“And call what number?” the man said. “We need to find a shortwave.”

Sanjay nodded. This was also an excellent idea. He hadn’t even realized that such radios existed, but why wouldn’t they? “How do we find one?” he asked.

“They will have a big antennae. Here.” Naresh motioned for Kusum to lend him the pad of paper and pen. He quickly sketched something on a clean sheet, then turned it so Sanjay could see. “Like this.”

The drawing was no masterpiece, but it got the point across — a crude house, several trees, and a tall pole-like structure towering above them.

“Maybe not so high as this,” Naresh said, “but definitely tall, and made of metal. It might also have wires out to the sides to keep it steady.”

“I think maybe you should join me tomorrow with the first search crew,” Sanjay said.

“Of course.”

“With both of us,” Kusum said.

Jeeval sat up. Ap.

“And Jeeval, too,” Kusum added.

25

The door to the office Chloe was searching flew open.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Josie said angrily as she entered. “I could have been helping you!”

Chloe looked up from the files she’d been examining. “You needed the rest.”

“I can rest later. I need to find Brandon!”

“We need to find Brandon. And that’s exactly what we’re trying to do.”

“If you had woken me when you got up, maybe I would have found something by now.”

“Or you would have missed it because you’d have been too tired to realize what you were looking at.”

“You can’t know that.”

“And you can’t know you wouldn’t have, either,” Chloe said. “So are we going to argue, or are you ready to help now?”

Josie squeezed her lips together, frustrated. Then, barely parting them again, she said, “Help.”

“Good. How are you at computers?”

A shrug. “Good enough.”

“You know your way around file systems, that kind of thing?”

“Sure.”

Chloe pointed at the computer on the desk next to her. “See what you can find.”

While Josie got busy, Chloe returned her attention to the files.

Somewhere there had to be something that would tell them where Brandon had gone. Keeping detailed records was a military tradition, and if they were moving children around, they would have made doubly sure to account for everything in writing. Even in the face of the end of mankind, those along the chain of custody would be worried about being drawn into a potential PR fiasco if something happened to the kids and the people in charge hadn’t accounted for their actions.

So why hadn’t Chloe or the others found anything associated with Operation Piper?

She reached the bottom of the stack and tossed it all into the trash.

“Chloe?” Miller’s voice came over the walkie-talkie on the desk.

She picked it up. “Yeah?”

“You’re going to want to come over here.”

“You find something?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Josie bolted out of her chair before Chloe even had a chance to stand.

“Hold on,” Chloe told the girl.

Josie stopped a few feet short of the door.

“Where are you?” Chloe said into the radio.

“I know where he is,” Josie said.

“Building 123,” Miller replied. “The little offshoot with the sloped roof. You’ll see it.”

“Come on,” Josie said, leaning toward the door. “I’ll show you.”

It took them three minutes to jog to Building 123.

Like most of the other buildings, it had large sliding doors that faced the runway and opened to a hangar. Where this one differed from the others, though, was along the southeast side of the building, where several other structures had been added, including a rectangular extension with a pitched roof.

They found Miller inside, looking at a map tacked to the wall. Both Harlan and Barry were with him.

“Where is he?” Josie asked as soon as she and Chloe entered.

Miller tapped the map. “Right here.”

Chloe and Josie hurried over. The point he touched was in the mountains above Colorado Springs.

“I was in Building 121 and found a note taped to a computer monitor.” Miller picked up a small piece of paper from the nearby desk and handed it to Chloe.

“At first I thought it meant ‘op’ like operation, in which case it could mean anything,” he said. “But then I realized it’s o-period, p-period. The whole thing doesn’t mean ‘operation,’ just the first letter. It still could mean something else, but it’s a hell of a lot closer to Operation Piper than anything I’ve seen so far. I tried to track down this Weinberg guy, but no one with that name was in the directory, so I searched by the extension number. It belongs to a guy named Clarke. This is his office, but when I got here, there were several papers on the desk signed by this Weinberg guy. He must have taken over this room in the last few days.”

Chloe nodded at the map. “But how do you know that’s where Brandon is?”

He picked up two other pieces of paper and passed them to her. The top one was crinkled, like it had been balled up before being flattened again. On it was a list of names in alphabetical order. The second one down was Brandon Ash.

“Where was this?” Josie, who’d been looking over Chloe’s shoulder, asked.

Miller pointed a grocery-sized brown bag with groups of stripes running across it — five white, five red, five white — sitting on the desk. “Burn bag,” he said. “It was in a cabinet near the door awaiting pickup. That second sheet was in there, too.”

Chloe looked at the second page. It was a printout from Google — turn-by-turn directions to someplace called Camp Kiley.

“I can’t tie the two things to each other directly, but both pieces of paper were in the same bag, and, well, it kind of makes sense. If they were trying to protect the kids, they’d want to take them someplace they thought would be safe. Someplace controllable and in the middle of nowhere would be their best bet. This has got to be where they took him.” His face tensed. “Should have thought to check for burn bags last night.”

“None of us thought of it,” Chloe said. “And you found them now.” She looked at the directions again. “This says it’s forty-six miles away but takes over an hour.”

“Mountain roads,” Miller said. “Most of it two-lane.”

“What are we waiting for?” Josie asked. “Let’s go!”

Chloe was silent for a moment, thinking. “All right,” she said, glancing momentarily at Josie, then looking at the others. “Harlan, Barry, check in with Matt. If he needs you somewhere else, go. If not, just wait here. Miller, put us together a weapons package.” She hoped they wouldn’t need them, but it was better to be prepared. She turned back to Josie. “Let’s you and I find ourselves a ride.”

It wasn’t surprising that the only cars parked near the airfield were military vehicles, any civilian ones undoubtedly used by their owners to get home before or after they’d become ill. While the sedan they chose was adequate, it was far from comfortable, so when they drove through Colorado Springs, they exchanged it for a brand new Audi A3 right off the lot, and headed into the mountains.

No one spoke for the longest time. Finally Josie said, “He’ll be okay, right?”

“Of course,” Chloe said. “They were trying to help him, not hurt him.”

She glanced at Josie via the rearview mirror. The girl was chewing on her lower lip, her gaze unfocused.

“Hey,” Chloe said.

Josie looked up.

“He’ll be fine.”

Twenty minutes outside Colorado Springs, Josie’s satellite phone rang. The display indicated it was coming from the Ranch.

“Yes?” she said, answering it.

“It’s Matt. You have a problem.”

Harlan had just finished checking in with Matt when Barry said, “Do you hear that?”

Harlan cocked his head and listened. An engine. A jet engine.

They looked out the cockpit window but saw nothing, so they moved back to the plane’s exit. Before Barry could climb outside, Harlan said, “Be careful. If it’s the air force, it might be better if they don’t see us.”

“They’re going to see the plane.”

“Yeah, but they might ignore it. People, not so much.”

Barry nodded.

Outside, they stayed tight to the fuselage of their jet and scanned the sky.

“There,” Harlan said, pointing.

A plane was approaching the runway, a small jet like theirs. Right before it touched down, the two men scrambled back inside, shut the door, and monitored the other plane’s progress from the passenger cabin. Once the other aircraft started taxiing, it turned toward the air force side of the airport.

“Military?” Barry asked.

Harlan studied the new arrival. There was nothing on it to indicate any kind of association, military or otherwise. Just a plain white fuselage with its identification number painted on the side and tail. “I don’t know,” he said.

They both knew if it was carrying US military personnel, the two of them could be in a whole lot of trouble if found. Hopefully, whoever was on board would assume the Ranch’s jet had been at the airport for a while and ignore it.

The plane slowed as it neared the control tower, and Harlan was sure it would pull in right beside them. But after a few minutes, the noise of its engines increased again, and it began rolling faster toward the next building over. A hundred feet from the structure, it came to a complete stop, its engines shutting down.

The door opened and half a dozen men in fatigues piled out.

“Oh, shit,” Barry said.

“Grab the binoculars,” Harlan said. There was something about the soldiers that troubled him.

Barry went into the cockpit, and returned thirty seconds later with the glasses. “I don’t know if you should use these,” he said as he handed them to Harlan. “What if the lens catches the light? They might see us.”

“Relax. That’s not going to happen.”

To be safe, though, Harlan didn’t press the binoculars directly against the window, but instead looked through them from a few feet away in the dimness of the cabin.

The six soldiers had been joined by a seventh, who, given the fact he was doing all the talking, seemed to be the one in charge. After a moment, two of the men broke from the group and jogged around the side of the building, out of sight. Harlan returned his attention to the men still near the plane. Each had a rifle slung over his shoulder, and two were carrying duffel bags that Harlan figured held ammunition and more weapons.

He concentrated on their uniforms. There were no patches or anything else that identified which branch of the military they belonged to. Suddenly, the one in charge raised a walkie-talkie to his mouth.

“Here,” Harlan said, handing the binoculars to Barry. “Keep an eye on them. I’ll be right back.”

Staying low to prevent the soldiers from noticing any movement, he returned to the cockpit, where he donned the headphone for the plane’s enhanced radio. He searched around until he located the channel the men outside were using to talk on their walkie-talkies.

“…for now,” a voice said.

“Yes, sir,” another replied.

There was dead air for several seconds.

“Keys located,” the second voice said. “We’ll be right there.”

“Copy that.” A pause, then the first said, “Stevens?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We should be back by noon, latest. Check in with NB219. Let them know we’re on schedule and should be at Camp Kiley within an hour.”

“Copy that.”

Harlan’s blood would have gone cold at the mention of Camp Kiley if it hadn’t already turned to ice when the man said NB219. NB was the designation Project Eden used to identify its facilities. There was no way Harlan would believe the use of the letter-number combo was a coincidence.

He heard the rumbling noise of a diesel engine. He slinked back into the passenger cabin and looked outside. A sedan and a troop-transport truck came out from between the buildings and stopped near where the remaining soldiers were gathered. The men divided themselves up and climbed aboard the two vehicles. Then, with the sedan in the lead, they drove off.

“What the hell do you think that was about?” Barry asked.

Instead of answering him, Harlan retrieved the satellite phone and called the Ranch.

The turnoff was crowned by an old wooden sign arching over the entrance, with the name of the camp painted on it.

“See anyone?” Chloe asked.

Miller scanned the woods to either side. “No.”

It was a logical place for a guard to be positioned, but apparently those at the camp either didn’t have the manpower or thought it unnecessary.

Chloe turned down the road. The pavement ended after only half a mile. Past that point, the ground was a mixture of frozen mud and gravel that thrust up and down at random and forced her to reduce their speed. That was something she was loath to do, given the news Matt had told her about the Project Eden squad heading their way.

About a quarter mile shy of the camp, they came across an EMT truck parked at an angle along the side of the road. Painted on the door were the words BOULDER FIRE-RESCUE.

Chloe eased past it and stopped.

“Stay here,” she said to Josie.

She and Miller hopped out and cautiously approached the truck.

“Looks empty,” Miller said. “Maybe it’s just here in case they felt the need to block the road.”

A possibility, Chloe thought. But it seemed odd.

They looked through the windows without touching the vehicle. Definitely unoccupied. Chloe motioned for Miller to circle around one way while she went the other.

“Anything?” she asked when they met back up.

He shook his head. “Whoever left it here isn’t around anymore.”

Chloe glanced down the road. “Camp’s just around that bend. We should hike in from here. Get an idea of what’s going on.”

Miller shot a quick look back the way they’d come. “What about the others?”

She checked her watch. “We should be able to do a quick recon, then get in and out of there with Brandon before the Project Eden assholes show up.”

“Should be able to.”

“That chance goes down the more time we waste here. Come on.”

As much as she would have like to leave Josie in the car, there was no telling who might show up while she and Miller were off in the woods, so, after Miller retrieved their bag of weapons, the three of them headed out together.

“Look at this,” he said a minute later.

On a small patch of snow in front of him was a set of footprints.

“The person from the truck?” Chloe suggested.

“Got to be, right?”

Camp Kiley came into view a few minutes later. Closest to them were several long, rectangular structures in two rows. Staying under the cover of the forest, Chloe led them to the right so they could get a better look at the rest of the camp. From their new position, they could see a dirt parking lot and a couple larger buildings.

“Chloe!” Josie whispered harshly. “Is that…is it…”

Instead of finishing, she pointed at a dark shape lying in the lot.

A body. No question.

“Both of you wait here,” Chloe said.

“No. I’m coming,” Josie told her.

“You’re staying.” Chloe shot a look at Miller.

He put a hand on Josie’s shoulder. “We’ll be right here,” he said.

“What if that’s Brandon?” Josie argued.

“It’s not,” Chloe said, as she pulled one of the pistols out of Miller’s bag before leaving.

When she reached the tree line, she stopped and scanned the camp. She spotted three more bodies along the path leading down from the rectangular buildings. The rest of the camp was quiet. Much too quiet. Her pistol at the ready, she stepped out of the woods and crossed the dirt lot.

A dozen feet from the first body, she stopped. It was a woman, middle-aged. The clear signs of the flu were etched on her face.

Her chest tightening, Chloe turned and looked toward the other bodies. Though they were farther away, there was no question they had also been downed by the flu.

It seemed as though the planned safe haven hadn’t worked out the way the government had intended.

She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Brandon!”

His name echoed off the buildings and across a small lake.

She turned to the larger buildings. “Brandon!”

There was a noise behind her. She whipped around and saw two teenage girls emerge with some difficulty from one of the rectangular buildings.

After a false start, one of them managed to call out, “Are you here to help us?”

Chloe took several steps toward them. “I’m looking for a friend of mine. A boy.”

“Everyone’s sick here,” the other one said. “You should go. It’s not…safe.”

“My friend’s name is Brandon.”

“Brandon?”

“Yes.”

“He’s not here,” the girl said, wincing in pain.

Chloe’s brow furrowed. “I’m sure he was brought here.”

“I mean…he’s gone. Him and some others. They got away last night.”

Got away? “How? Where did they go?”

A man wearing an army uniform staggered out from between two of the other buildings. “You can’t be here,” he said.

“I’m not staying,” Chloe told him. “I just need to—”

“This is a private…facility,” he went on as if he didn’t hear her. “You can’t…be…here.”

“I said I’m leaving.” She looked back at the teenagers. “Do you know where the others went?”

“No,” the first girl said. “But they’re in the…in the…truck.”

“What kind of truck?”

“Like an SUV but…big.”

“A Humvee?”

“No. Like a…um…”

“A Suburban,” the other girl said. “It was a Suburban.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Chloe saw the uniformed man raise a gun into the air.

“I said you need to leave!”

She started to back away. “I’m going, all right? See?”

Whether he believed her or his weapon was too heavy for his condition, it dropped back to his side.

When she reached the edge of the parking lot, she turned and sprinted into the woods.

“Come on!” she yelled at Miller and Josie as she neared them. “Back to the car!”

“What about Brandon?” Josie asked.

“He’s not here.”

“Where is he?”

“Come on!”

Chloe raced past them and back to the road, confident they would follow. As soon as she reached the car, she got behind the wheel and started the engine. Several seconds later, Josie and Miller climbed in, too.

“If Brandon’s not there, where is he?” Josie asked, breathing hard.

Chloe swung the Audi into a Y-turn and headed back to the main road. “I don’t know,” she said.

“We could hear you talking to someone. Didn’t they know where he was?”

“Josie, please. Just wait until we get out to the highway, okay?”

Chloe checked her watch. Scouting the camp had taken longer than she’d planned. The last place she wanted to be was on this dirt road when the Project Eden team arrived. She pushed the Audi as fast as she dared, the bumps and jerks doing more to keep Josie from asking more questions than Chloe’s request had.

When they finally reached the highway, she slowed momentarily, and peered down the road in the direction of Colorado Springs. Less than half a mile away it turned out of sight. What she could see of it was clear, but she knew going that way would be too risky.

It turned out not to matter one way or the other. As she turned left to take them farther up the mountain, Miller said, “There they are!”

She looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, a dark-colored sedan, nearly identical to the one they’d originally taken from the base, had come around the far corner. Chloe gunned the engine and the Audi accelerated up the slope.

“What are they doing?” she asked.

Miller, looking back, said, “They’ve seen us. They’re speeding up.”

Chloe banked around a curve, putting part of the mountain between them and the other car. When the sedan appeared behind them again, it was closer than she expected.

“What the hell?” Miller said.

Chloe increased their speed as the road continued to wind back and forth like a snake.

“Careful!” Josie screamed as they went wide around a curve.

“Not helping,” Chloe said.

“Sorry.”

The highway straightened out for a bit. Chloe glanced at the rearview mirror. The sedan was about the same distance behind them as it had been at the last check.

Great, she thought. Leave it to the air force to be sure their cars performed above expectations.

Once more the sedan disappeared as Chloe rounded another bend. They passed a sign indicating an intersection ahead. If she could get there before the other car appeared again, she could take the new road and maybe lose them.

She pressed the pedal to the floor, hoping they wouldn’t hit any hidden ice.

The turn was nearing.

Going right would be the logical way. The easy way. The way most people would turn.

She went left.

The new road dipped into a shallow valley full of trees. Without reducing their speed, she raced through it and up the other side. Just beyond the ridge, she spotted a dirt road leading into the forest. She took the turn, and didn’t stop until they were a good two hundred feet within the trees. There, she found a wide spot, turned the car around, and killed the engine.

“Everyone out,” she said.

“Why?” Josie asked. “Aren’t we safer in here?”

“I need your ears.”

They exited the Audi.

“Listen for them,” Chloe instructed.

“What are you going to do?” Josie asked.

“I need to make a call.”

Chloe walked farther down the road so that the sound of the other car wouldn’t be masked by her voice. When far enough away, she called the Ranch.

“Yes?”

Chloe recognized the voice. “Devin, I need to speak to Christina.”

“Who is this?”

“Chloe.”

“Did you find him?”

“Working on it. I need Christina.”

“Hold on.”

The line was silent for a few seconds before Christina picked up.

“Chloe? What’s going on?”

“Do you still have satellite access?” Chloe asked.

“For the most part. There’ve been some access issues cropping up on a few systems. Why? What do you need?”

Chloe gave her the location of Camp Kiley. “Sometime in the last twelve to eighteen hours, a Suburban left there and didn’t come back. I need to know where it went.”

“Could be difficult. How are the skies?”

Chloe looked up. “Clear. Have been since we arrived last evening.”

“That’ll help. Let me see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Chris.”

Chloe hung up and returned to the others. “Anything?”

Miller shook his head. “Quiet.”

“What happened back there?” Josie asked.

Chloe hesitated, then said, “Everyone at the camp was sick. Brandon and some others must have realized this, and got out of the camp last night. I know what kind of car they were in, so I’ve asked Christina to figure out where they went.”

“Can she do it?”

“She’s trying.”

Josie was silent for a moment, then nodded. “She’ll find them.”

“Shhh,” Miller said, tapping his ear.

Chloe cocked her head, and after a second, heard it, too — a car on the main road, heading their way.

“Everyone in,” she ordered.

While the other two climbed back into the Audi, she paused by her door and tracked the other vehicle’s progress. The sound of the engine dipped for a moment as the other vehicle passed through the nearby valley, then it grew louder and louder as it neared the top of the ridge.

She held her breath as it crested the top, knowing the entrance to the road she and her friends were on was now visible to those in the sedan.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she said under her breath.

Closer and closer it came. If it was going to take the turn, it needed to start slowing immediately, but the hum of the engine remained unchanged as the car raced past them and continued down the highway. Once the noise dwindled to almost nothing, she climbed back into the car.

“Aren’t we going?” Josie asked.

“Not yet,” Chloe said.

“Why not?”

“Where exactly are we supposed to go?”

Josie was silent for a moment. “So…we wait?”

“We wait.”

26

By the time Robert had returned to the resort the night before, all the residents knew about the boat that had washed up on shore with the body on board. They also knew that Dominic was the first on the scene, and was now trapped out there in case he had been exposed to the virus.

No one knew who had started calling it Dominic’s Beach, but the nickname quickly took hold as a spirited discussion ensued over what, if anything, should be done. The most militant in the crowd insisted that Dominic needed to get into the boat and row it back to the mainland, while the more fatalistic had said, why bother? They were all going to die now anyway.

Robert let them go on for a while before informing everyone they would be sticking with Dominic’s self-imposed quarantine zone, and wait to see what happened.

Robert and Luis then hauled a cot, some food, water, and other supplies across the island and put them at the edge of the beach. After they had retreated into the jungle, Dominic retrieved everything.

“Thanks!” he yelled.

“You’re welcome,” Robert called back. “Still think you planned this so that you could have a little vacation.”

“If I’d planned it, I would have chosen a bigger beach.”

“Yeah, I’d definitely suggest that next time.”

“I’ll try to remember…” Dominic paused. “Hey, what are these for? A campfire?”

Dominic was holding up two one-gallon containers of gasoline.

“Thought it might be best if you burn the boat,” Robert said.

That was not something Robert had mentioned to everyone. While he was sure many of the others would see the benefit of burning the boat, some would be sticking with the idea that Dominic needed to float away in it. That was not something Robert could stomach, so the boat had to go.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Dominic said, not sounding very enthusiastic.

“Just splash some gas on the sides and throw the cans in. You won’t have to get that close.”

Dominic repositioned his supplies farther up the beach, away from the water. Once that was done, he carried the gas cans over to the boat. It was low tide so it was fully stranded on the beach. Carefully, he tossed gas over the wooden hull, quickly emptying the first can. He added more from the second, then tossed both cans on board.

With the soft onshore breeze, it took him a few tries before he could get one of the matches that had been in the supplies to stay lit long enough to ignite the boat. But when the fire took hold, it spread quickly, its flames rising high.

Dominic, caught off guard, stumbled backward and fell onto the sand.

“You all right?” Robert shouted.

“I think I singed my eyebrows.”

“That’s a good thing. They were too bushy before.”

“Gee, thanks,” Dominic said. He stood back up and took several steps farther away from the fire.

Robert, Dominic, and Luis watched the blaze consume the boat until only the gutted keel remained intact. Robert had then bid his friend goodnight and gone back to the resort.

Upon waking that morning, he’d asked Juan, one of the resort’s cooks, to whip up Dominic’s favorite omelet. As soon as it was ready, he went down to Dominic’s Beach to deliver the meal.

“Hey! You hungry?” he yelled when he reached the edge of the jungle. “Brought you something you’re going to like.”

He looked at the beach. Much of the burned-out boat had been washed away in the high tide early that morning, and only the keel remained. Dominic had set up his cot near the trees at the center part of the beach, but it was empty.

“Dominic?” Robert yelled. In a panic, he took a step onto the beach. “Dominic, where are you?”

Surely he hasn’t gone into the jungle. Dominic was the one who had first insisted on being isolated, setting up the boundaries himself.

Robert looked out at the ocean. Had he gone for a swim?

“Dominic!”

“I’m here. Relax.”

Dominic stepped out from behind some rocks just beyond where his cot was set up.

“What the hell, man?” Robert said. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t hear me.”

“Sorry, had to take care of a little business, you know? Kind of hard to answer when you’re in the middle of things.”

Robert chuckled, both relieved and a little embarrassed. “Brought you an omelet.” He set it on the ground. “You’ll want to eat it before it gets cold.”

“Thanks.”

Robert stepped back into the jungle. “How you feeling this morning?”

“Could use a shower, but I’m okay.”

“That’s great.”

“How are things at the hotel? Anything new on the news?”

Robert shook his head. “Most of the channels went off air last night.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“That can’t be good,” Dominic said. He paused for a moment, looking tired. “Listen, you need to start planning long-term. I have a feeling it’s going to be awhile before anyone here can leave the island.”

“As soon as you can come back, you and I will do that.”

“Sounds good,” Dominic said. “Now get out of here so I can come over and get that omelet before some bird flies off with it.”

“All right. I’ll come back in a few hours to see how you’re doing.”

“If I’m asleep, don’t wake me up!” Dominic admonished him.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

With a wave, Robert headed back to the resort. For the first time since discovering the boat, he felt okay. He was sure now that Dominic would be fine.

Thank God.

Dominic watched his friend disappear into the jungle, then waited another minute to be sure he was gone. Satisfied he was alone, he glanced behind the rock where he’d been when Robert had shown up.

Contrary to the impression he’d given his friend, he hadn’t been relieving himself or taking a crap. He’d been throwing up, and not for the first time.

The pains had come on right before dawn. Not only in his stomach, but in his chest and neck, too. Surprisingly, he wasn’t experiencing the congestion they’d talked about on TV, but there was no question in his mind that this was the flu. Maybe it changed from person to person. He knew other diseases could hit one person one way and someone else another.

It didn’t really matter. What did, though, was the fact that he knew now he was going to die. What he needed to figure out was how to do it without harming anyone else.

Dying on the beach was a problem. The same birds he’d pretended to be worried about stealing the omelet could pluck away at him, and carry some of his diseased flesh back to the resort.

And swimming out to sea? He didn’t know if he was strong enough to get to a point where the currents wouldn’t pull him back to the island.

Someone else might not have cared, but he was the manager. The safety of the guests was his responsibility, even if it meant protecting them from him.

So how the hell was he going to do that?

As he tried to come up with a solution, his stomach clenched again.

27

The knock on the door was loud and unwanted.

Martina pulled the spare pillow over her head, and turned so that her back was to the noise.

Another knock. “Hey, Martina. Wake up.”

“Who’s that?” Riley asked sleepily from the other bed.

Martina glanced at the clock and groaned. A few minutes after eight. Only five hours since she’d fallen asleep. She flopped onto her back and yelled, “Just a minute!”

The evening before, she and her former teammates had decided that staying together made a lot more sense than going their separate ways every night. So, after Martina picked up Riley, they had all gone over to the Carriage Inn and taken rooms.

They’d ended up talking into the wee hours of the night, which was why she hadn’t planned on getting out of bed until noon.

She sighed as she stood, and shuffled over to the door. Sunlight poured in the moment she cracked it open. She blinked several times and finally settled on a squint so she could see who thought waking her was a good idea.

It was Noreen. She was dressed and looked anxious.

“What’s going on?” Martina asked.

“I heard a car.”

“What?” Martina said, not quite understanding the significance.

“I heard a car. Sounded like it was racing. You know, really loud. It was—” She pointed to the south. “That way.”

“So what?”

“Martina! A car! Not one of ours. I’m the only one up.”

Martina looked out at the parking lot. All her friends’ cars were still there. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“When did you hear it?”

“Five minutes ago. Tires squealing and everything.”

“Hold on.”

Alert now, Martina closed the door.

“What’s going on?” Riley asked.

Martina went over to her clothes and pulled on her jeans. “Noreen thinks she heard a car.”

“Seriously?”

“We’re going to check it out.”

“Can I come?”

“How you feeling?”

Riley considered the question. “Still a little stuffy, but my throat’s better, and I don’t feel as tired.”

“All right. Hurry up.”

By the time Martina finished dressing and using the bathroom, Riley was ready to go.

They decided to take Noreen’s car. Though the morning was cool, they kept their windows down so they could listen for the other vehicle.

“It had to have been somewhere in this area,” Noreen said as they passed the police station. “I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t hear anything,” Riley said from the backseat.

“Me, either,” Martina chimed in.

Noreen looked both frustrated and disappointed. “I know it was a car.”

“I believe you,” Martina said. “It’s just not here now.”

As they continued down China Lake Boulevard, they scanned the parking lots and side streets, looking for any signs of movement, but there was none.

They passed Ridgecrest Boulevard, Carl’s Jr., and finally Walmart, where the road took a gentle curve to the west along the southern edge of town.

Noreen pulled her car to the side of the road. “It must be gone,” she said, defeated.

“It’s okay. I’m sure we’ll hear it again,” Martina said, though she was beginning to wonder if her friend had dreamt the noise.

Noreen pulled a U-turn and headed back into town.

As they were nearing Ridgecrest Boulevard again, Martina said, “Let’s make a stop at CVS. Pick up some drinks and snacks. I’m buying.”

Though no one laughed, Noreen did crack a smile.

“Maybe they’ll have a container of Pringles. Barbecue favor,” Riley said. “I love — watch out!”

Riley screamed the last part as a shiny, black Ford Mustang roared into the intersection directly in front of them. Noreen slammed on the brakes while Martina instinctively braced herself against the dash.

They all watched as the other car raced across their path, barely getting out of the way before they skidded behind it. The driver of the other vehicle, his face turned toward them, looked as surprised to see them as they were to see him.

The moment they were out of each other’s way, the Mustang began to swerve. The driver tried to compensate by cutting sharply to the left. He overcompensated and his tires lost their hold on the road. The car flipped up then over and over and over, coming to rest back on its wheels partially in the entrance to the Denny’s parking lot.

“Oh, my God!” Riley said.

Martina threw her door open and raced down the asphalt toward the other car.

The roof was crushed halfway down, the safety glass of the windshield an ocean of cracks. The rest of the car was dented and twisted.

She reached the driver’s door and looked in. The airbags had deployed and now lay deflated over the steering wheel and across the door. The driver was slumped to the right.

She jerked on the handle, but the door wouldn’t open.

“Hey! Hey, are you all right?” she yelled.

The guy didn’t move.

As she circled around to the other side, she saw Riley and Noreen running over. The passenger door was also jammed.

“The windshield,” Riley said, pointing.

Martina looked at the front window. The upper corner nearest her was out of the frame. She climbed up onto the hood and kicked down on the glass. It moved. After several more stomps, there was enough of a gap to allow her to pass inside.

The driver still hadn’t moved.

“Hey,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Can you hear me?”

No response.

She hesitated, unsure what to do. If he’d broken his back, she knew she shouldn’t move him. Then again, if he had broken his back, would he have to stay in the car forever?

She said a silent prayer, hoping she wouldn’t hurt him, and then pushed him into sitting position. When the Mustang had driven by them, Martina had only had time to register the driver’s surprise, but not get a good look at him. She’d assumed he was an adult, but the guy she was looking at couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen.

She tried to check his pulse, but he tensed and jerked his hand away as he groaned.

At least he was alive, but there was something definitely wrong with his wrist.

She grabbed his chin and wiggled it back and forth. “Wake up. We’ve got to get you out of here.”

Another groan, then a wince as his eyes parted.

“Good,” she said. “You’re with me, right?”

She wasn’t sure if he was moaning or saying yes, so she decided to assume it was the latter.

“What’s your name?”

“Cra…”

She waited.

“Craig,” he whispered.

“Okay, Craig. Can you move your legs?”

Another wince. “I don’t know.”

“Give it a try.”

She watched as each of his thighs moved up and down.

“Excellent. I’m going to undo your seatbelt. Then you and I are going to crawl through the window.”

He looked dubious.

“It’s the only way out,” she told him. “Are you ready?”

A nod.

She held on to him with one hand in case he lost his balance, and unbuckled his belt with the other.

“Noreen!” she shouted. “Get up on the hood, and help him out the window. But watch out for his right wrist.” She focused back on Craig. “We need to switch seats.” She glanced into the back of the car, thinking she might be able to move there and get out of his way, but the roof was crushed too far down. “I’m going to have to crawl over the top of you while you shift over here. You can do that, right?”

“I think so.”

The transfer was awkward, and not without pain on Craig’s part, but successful.

“Now through the window,” she said.

“I’m not sure I can.”

“It’s either that or stay in here the rest of your life, because I’m pretty sure the fire department’s not coming.”

He seemed to actually be considering the choice.

“Come on. Let’s go,” she said as she gently pushed his shoulder.

With reluctance, he leaned over the dash and stuck his head through the window.

“Let me help you,” Noreen said, outside.

Working from either end, the two girls maneuvered Craig out of the car. As soon as he was clear, Martina followed.

“Let me take a look at that wrist,” Martina said.

He gingerly held out his right arm.

After she pushed back the sleeve of his sweater, she nodded. “Oh, yeah. That’s broken.” Though no bones were sticking out of the skin, the arm was already bruised.

“Hurt anywhere else?”

“Everywhere else,” he said.

“Achy painy or really hurt?”

He shrugged. “Achy painy, I guess.”

“All right. We should wrap up that wrist. Come on.”

As they walked back to Noreen’s car, Martina asked, “Tell me, hotshot. How long have you had your license?”

“What does it matter?”

“Well, you did nearly kill us, so that gives me the right to know.”

“I’ve had it long enough.”

She smirked. “Wasn’t your car, was it?”

“Yeah, it was.”

“It looked pretty new to me.”

Looking guilty, he said, “No one else was going to use it.”

She rolled her eyes, and opened the passenger door of the car. “Get in.”

Before Riley could get in on her side, Martina said, “Do you know him?”

A shrug. “I’ve seen him around, I think.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And why are you acting like you don’t like him?” she asked, because that was exactly what Riley had been doing since they’d pulled Craig out.

Her friend shrugged. “No reason.”

“Uh-huh,” Martina said, unconvinced.

“You guys getting in or not?” Noreen called from the driver’s seat.

Riley opened the back door and got in, but kept as much distance between herself and Craig as she could. He didn’t even seem to notice her. That’s when the truth dawned on Martina. It wasn’t that Riley didn’t like Craig. It was the opposite.

The realization made her think of her own boyfriend. If she had survived the flu, Ben must have, too. He’d also lived through the original Sage Flu outbreak, after all. That was how they’d met.

She wondered where he was.

She wondered how he was doing.

But most of all, she wondered if she would ever see him again.

“Martina, let’s go!”

Craig’s appearance made the girls curious how many others were still alive. They decided to split up and drive through town, honking their horns and making as much noise as possible to see if anyone else came out.

Martina also drove by Coach Driscoll’s house because she should have been immune, too, but no one was home. That made sense, though. Coach usually went back east for the holidays.

Sadly, when they regrouped two hours later, the only people anyone had seen were a handful of the sick still strong enough to look out a window.

“How long until you think they’re all dead?” Ruby Gryting asked.

“A few days, maybe a week,” Martina said.

“And then what?” Jilly asked.

When no one seemed to have an answer for that, Craig raised his unbroken arm.

“You don’t have to do that,” Martina told him. “Just say what’s on your mind.”

He lowered his arm. “Sorry.”

“What did you want to say?”

“Um, well, I think that what we do next, well, we should look for others who are still alive.”

“We just did that,” Valerie said. “No one’s left but us.”

“I don’t mean here. There’s got to be others in other places right? Look at us.”

“We’re alive because we all had the flu before,” Amanda said.

“I didn’t,” he said. He looked at Riley. “Did you have it before?”

A slight blush came to her cheeks as she shook her head. “No.”

“We can’t be the only two. But even if we are, what about all those other people who survived the outbreak last spring? There has to be at least a few hundred.”

That made everyone think for a moment.

Martina nodded. “You’re right. We do need to find whoever’s left. Life is never going to go back to normal. The more of us together, the better.”

“But how are we supposed to do that?” Valerie asked. “Drive from place to place and honk our horns again?”

More silence.

“I know how,” Martina said, recalling her experience the previous spring. “Radios. CBs.”

“Don’t those have limited broadcast?” Amanda asked.

“Yeah, and aren’t they just for truckers?” Valerie said. “What if no one’s in a truck?”

“Don’t you think other people will think about this and try it, too?” Martina argued.

Valerie thought for a moment, then said, “I guess it couldn’t hurt, huh?”

Martina stood up. “We can pull one out of a truck, or maybe one of the stores in town has one, and set it up here.”

There were voices of support and nods from the other girls.

“Um, there are other things we could try,” Craig said.

“Okay,” Martina said. “Like what?”

“Ham radios. Those go farther,” he said. “A friend of my dad’s has one set up at his house.”

“Great idea.”

“And…”

When he didn’t continue, Martina said, “And what?”

“Well, I was thinking, what about K-Ridge?” he said.

Martina looked at him, confused. “K-Ridge, the radio station?”

“Yeah.”

“They only broadcast, don’t they? We couldn’t talk back and forth.”

“Yeah, but couldn’t we broadcast how to get ahold of us on a ham radio?”

Martina stared at him. “That’s…not a bad idea, either.” She looked around the room. “Does anyone know how to operate a radio station?”

As expected, no one answered.

“All right. Who wants to learn?”

28

Where the hell did the Audi go?

Isaac Judson searched the road ahead, knowing he wasn’t going to spot it. Playing a hunch when they’d reached the intersection, he had instructed the man driving his car to go left. But here they were, several miles in, and no sign of the other vehicle.

He should have probably let the car go, but it had come from the direction of the camp, and raced away from him the minute they saw each other. That’s what had piqued his curiosity. Why would they run? In a world where almost everyone was dying, wouldn’t they wait when they saw someone else on the road?

His sat phone rang.

“Yes?”

“Sir, it’s Peyton. We’ve reached the camp.”

Judson told his driver to pull over, then said into the phone, “And?”

“Whole place is infected. At least thirty people, mostly kids. We’ve got a few more buildings to check, so I expect that number to go up.”

“Dead?”

“No one yet, but give it a few hours and that’ll change.”

So their trip to Colorado was a waste of time. The people in the car had probably been sick, too, he thought.

“Turn around,” he told his driver. To Peyton, he said, “No need to continue the search. Let’s get back to the airport and out of here.”

“There’s something you might be interested in.”

“What?”

“We talked to one of the girls here. She wondered if we were with the people who had just left.”

“The ones in the car we’ve been after?”

“I assume so. Apparently they weren’t from the camp. They’d stopped here looking for a kid who was.”

“I don’t see how this is important. Probably parents wanting to get their kid before they thought it was too late.”

“I don’t think so. The woman was black, and the kid she was looking for was white.”

“A friend, then.”

“Possibly,” Peyton said. “The thing is, this kid escaped last night in a Suburban with several others. The girl I talked to said they didn’t look sick.”

Now this was interesting. “Where did they go?”

“She didn’t know.”

A call to base might solve that riddle. They could check and see if there was any satellite imagery of the area that caught the fleeing car.

“One other thing, sir. Actually, this is the item I thought you’d find most interesting.”

Judson sat up straight. “Okay. What?”

“This kid the others were looking for, the girl said his name is Brandon. We found a list of the children that had been moved up here. There’s only one Brandon on it. Brandon Ash.”

Judson said nothing for a moment, caught off guard. “You’re kidding me.”

“No, sir.”

It could be a coincidence. Ash wasn’t exactly a common name, but it wasn’t uncommon, either. And Brandon? You could throw a stone though a crowd and hit at least a couple of them. That was, if you could gather up a crowd anymore.

Still, Brandon Ash. The same name as the son of Captain Daniel Ash, well known in the Project because of the part his blood played in creating a vaccine for KV-27a that allowed them to move forward with Implementation Day.

If the boy was that Brandon Ash, he would be worth spending a little more time searching for.

Yes, a call to base would definitely be in order.

Christina tapped repeatedly on the right arrow key, so that the time-lapse image on screen moved forward at a pace slow enough for her to get a sense of each frame. What she was looking at was a series of satellite photos taken the previous night over the Rocky Mountains surrounding Camp Kiley, the shots coming at one-minute intervals.

The camp remained quiet until 1:42 a.m. That’s when a pair of headlights switched on, and a vehicle, after remaining in the camp parking area for a few minutes, headed down the road to the highway. She flipped to the infrared image and was ninety-nine percent sure the vehicle was a Suburban. It had to be them.

When it reached the highway, it stopped for at least three minutes. The next shot revealed that it turned left, going up the mountain. She traced its route, tapping and tapping and tapping, until the SUV finally turned again, stopped, and killed its lights. Flipping between IR and visual spectrum, she realized it had parked in front of a house. Several frames on, the house started to heat up.

She noted the GPS location, and was about to call Chloe with the information when a warning window opened on her screen.

Dual access? She opened the log and rooted around for a moment.

“Oh, great,” she said to herself.

She grabbed the phone.

“It’s me,” she said, after Chloe answered her call. “I’ve traced the car to a house about seventeen miles from your current position.”

“In the mountains or below?”

“Mountains. Hold on.” Christina accessed the texting function, typed in the GPS code, and hit SEND. “You should have the coordinates now.”

There was a pause. “This is where he is?”

“It’s where he went last night. I haven’t followed the images forward enough yet, but thought you should get going.”

“Might be better if we wait until—”

“Chloe, someone else just accessed the same satellite data. Project Eden’s hunting for him, too.”

“Call me as soon as you can confirm.” Chloe hung up the phone without waiting for Christina to reply.

“Did she find him?” Josie asked.

Chloe tossed the phone to her. “I just got a text. Copy the number and enter it into the cell’s map function. It’s GPS coordinates.”

“For where Brandon is?”

“Was, at least.” Chloe shifted the car into Drive and returned to the highway. “So, which way?”

“Left,” Josie said.

They sped through the valley and up the other side.

When they reached the intersection that had earlier aided in their escape, Josie said, “Left.”

Not long after they made the turn, Chloe’s phone rang again.

“It’s the Ranch. You want me to answer it?” Josie asked.

“Put it on speaker.”

It was Christina.

“I was able to trace the rest of the satellite history,” she said. “As of two minutes ago, the Suburban is still parked in front of the house.”

“Finally some good news,” Chloe said. “We should be there in fifteen minutes, tops.”

“You won’t be the first.”

“Wait a minute. What?” Josie said. “What do you mean?”

“Where are they?” Chloe asked.

“On the road about three miles in front of you.”

“The truck or the sedan?”

“Both.”

“The Project Eden people?” Josie said. “They know where Brandon is, too?”

“Is there a back way?” Chloe asked Christina. “A back road that’ll give us the chance to get ahead of them?”

“There’s only the one route,” Christina said.

Chloe tensed. One way or the other, they would have to deal with these assholes head on.

“We’ll try to take them out on the road before they can get to the house,” she said.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Christina said. “I might have a better idea.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“I need to check something first. For now, try to get as close to them as you can without letting them know you’re there. I’ll call you back in a minute.”

“Hold on,” Chloe said. “What’s the idea?”

The line was already dead.

For the first few hours after they had broken into the house, Brandon had been unable to sleep. When he finally did, he was greeted with nightmares of chases and monsters and death.

It was a shake of his arm that woke him.

He opened his eyes to find daylight streaming into the house. By the angle, he guessed it was at least midmorning.

Ellie was sitting on the floor next to him, clutching her bear to her chest.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Everyone’s asleep,” she told him.

“Well, you should be, too.”

“I can’t. I’m…I’m scared.”

He sat up. “You don’t have to be scared now. No one here’s going to hurt you.” When her expression didn’t change, he said, “Come here.”

He opened his arms and she crawled onto his lap. Remembering how he’d loved to be rocked by his mom whenever he felt scared, he gently moved side to side, hoping it would help the girl. After a minute or so, he could feel her relax.

“How about something to drink?” he asked.

It took a few seconds, but finally she bobbed her head up and down.

“All right. Hop up.”

He tickled her ribs. She didn’t laugh, but she did squirm in protest as she rose to her feet.

Spread around them were Miss Collins and the other children. No one had wanted to be separated, so despite the fact that there were three bedrooms, they had all slept in the living room.

Brandon led Ellie around the others and into the kitchen. He located a glass and filled it with water.

After she took a drink, she said, “Breakfast?”

“Breakfast? Don’t tell me you’re hungry,” he teased.

She looked at him with sad eyes and nodded.

“I’m just kidding,” he said, tousling her hair. “Let me see what I can find.”

He opened the refrigerator, totally forgetting that he had checked it the night before, and quickly shut it again. Still empty. The pantry, though, was half filled with canned goods and boxes of crackers and cereal and the like. He found some Ritz crackers and an unopened jar of peanut butter, from which he made half a dozen tiny sandwiches and put them on a plate for them to share.

“This isn’t breakfast,” Ellie said.

“Oh, well, then I’ll eat it all myself.”

He pretended to pull the plate away.

“No, no,” she said, grabbing his arm.

“So you do think this is okay for breakfast?”

She thought for a moment, then nodded.

The dozen miniature sandwiches disappeared in a hurry, so he made another set.

He had just popped one into his mouth when something rang, loud and close. Startled, he jumped and nearly choked on the cracker.

When it rang again, he realized it was coming from the cordless phone, sitting on the counter next to the refrigerator. From the living room, he could hear people stirring.

“What is that?” Miss Collins asked.

Brandon was about to answer her, when behind him Ellie said, “Hello?”

He whipped back around. The little girl had the phone to her ear.

“I’m Ellie,” she said, and listened for a moment. “Uh-huh. Yeah. You want to talk to him? Okay.” She held out the phone. “For you, Brandon.”

“Me?” he said.

She nodded.

He assumed the person on the other end was asking for someone older than Ellie. He took the phone and raised it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Brandon? Is that you?”

“Who is this?”

“Christina. From the Ranch. God, I wasn’t even sure the phone would work there.”

“Chr-Chr-Christina?” He could hardly allow himself to believe it.

“Yes. You need to listen to me. There’s—”

“Where are you?” he asked.

“At the Ranch.”

“You’re alive?”

“Yes.” She sounded confused at first, then she said, “Oh, God. You don’t know. We’re fine. We survived.”

“My sister?”

A slight hesitation. “Your family’s fine.”

“You mean Dad, too? You’ve heard from him?”

“He’s here.”

“Please, let me talk to him!”

Miss Collins stepped into the kitchen, her brow furrowed. “Brandon, who is it?”

He looked at her. “A friend of mine.” To Christina, he said, “I just want to talk to him.”

“He’s…not in the room with me, but he’s anxious to see you.”

“Well, have someone go get him.”

“There’s no time. Brandon, some bad people are on the way to the house you’re in. How many others are there with you?”

“Um, eleven.”

“Eleven?” she sounded surprised. “Okay. Well, you need to get them out of there right now.”

“Where are we supposed to go?”

“Take them into the woods. Find someplace to hide.”

“Wait. On foot? We have a car.”

“I know. A Suburban, but the people coming for you can track it. If you can go out the back of the house, that would be best. The woods come right up to it, and if you stay under the trees at all times, you’ll be safe.”

“They’re Project Eden, aren’t they?”

A pause. “Yes.”

Brandon could feel his skin grow cold in fear. “If we go into the woods, they’ll just come after us, won’t they? We should at least try the car.”

“No. Chloe is only a few minutes behind them.”

Chloe? “By herself?”

“No.”

His heart rate started to decrease. He trusted Chloe. If she was coming, they had a chance. “Okay. We’ll go into the woods.”

“Get them moving right away. The sooner you’re out of there, the better chance you’ll have.”

“I understand.”

He hung up the phone.

“What was that all about?” Miss Collins said.

He knew she was going to be the hardest to convince. He was only a kid, after all. Then again, he had proven himself already, so…

“You trust me, right, Miss Collins?”

“Trust you? Um, sure. But what’s that have to do with—”

“There are some bad people on their way here.”

“What bad people?”

“People who want to hurt us!”

She looked skeptical. “Brandon, relax. Now, who was that on the phone?”

He huffed. “We don’t have time for that. We need to get everyone out of the house now. Please trust me on this.”

“It’s cold outside. Everyone’s tired. We’re safe here.”

“We are not safe! These people have already killed friends of mine! They…they killed my mom!”

“Your mom?”

Project Eden had actually killed friends and family of everyone, but he knew saying that would complicate matters. “Miss Collins, I was right about last night, and I’m right about this. If you want to stay, you can, but I hope you don’t.” He raced into the living room, intending to wake everyone up, but they were all sitting up and staring at him, scared.

“Is that true?” Loni asked.

“Yes,” he said. “Everyone up! Put on your jackets and shoes. Right now. Hurry!”

Loni immediately jumped up. The others hesitated a second before joining her.

“Hold on,” Miss Collins said. “I think we first need to take a minute and figure out what’s going on here.”

A couple of the kids stopped what they were doing, while the rest continued getting ready.

“We don’t have a minute,” Brandon said. “Even if I’m wrong or…or lying, it’s not going to hurt us to go out for a little bit, right?” He could see she still wasn’t buying it. He thought for a moment. “I saved you last night. You owe me for that.”

“Brandon—”

“Just do this for me and we’re even.” He stared at her, and added, “Please!”

Not looking happy, she said, “Fine, we’ll leave, but when someone starts feeling cold, we’re coming back in.”

“Okay, okay. No problem.”

When everyone was ready and gathered at the back door, Brandon said, “Miss Collins, I’ll be in front. Can you be in back?”

Still looking uncertain, she said, “Sure.”

“Loni, Vincent, and Carter, you three spread out between us and make sure the little kids don’t wander off.”

“Okay,” Loni said. The other two nodded.

“All right. This is really important. Everyone keep quiet, okay?”

“I need to potty,” one of the younger kids said.

“Can you hold it?”

“For a little.”

Brandon gave him a smile. “Good. The faster we get out of here, the sooner you can go. I promise.”

“Okay.”

“All right, everybody. Follow me.”

He led them single file out the door and into the forest.

Less than two minutes later, as they were climbing a small rise behind the cabin, Brandon heard the unmistakable sound of a car engine in the distance. He caught Miss Collins’s gaze, and saw from the surprise on her face that she’d heard it, too.

29

The answer to Dominic’s problem was right in front of him. Perhaps if he’d been feeling better, he would have seen it sooner. As it was, it took him nearly thirty minutes to realize what he’d been staring at was a way to prevent him from exposing the others to his disease-ridden body.

He’d been sitting on the beach, looking out at the ocean. With each passing minute, the water pulled farther and farther back from the island.

The tide was moving out.

He’d been on the island long enough to know low tide was still a few hours off. Though he had dismissed swimming out as an option before, he hadn’t taken into consideration an assist from the receding ocean. The tide could do a lot of the work for him, and he could then use what energy he saved to swim out into the current that swept past the island toward the mainland.

As he stared at the water, wondering if he could really do it, he coughed, deep and violent. Phlegm flew out of his mouth and landed on the beach. It was a blood-speckled, sickly yellow blob. He covered it with dirt and rose to his feet. The longer he waited, the less chance he had at succeeding.

The water was warm on his bare feet. He was tempted to leave behind the shirt and shorts he was wearing, but he knew the virus could very well be clinging to their fibers.

He looked back. His shoes were sitting near the supplies he’d been given. He should take those.

The supplies, too, he thought. Everything could be tainted.

But there was no way he could haul it all out with him. Perhaps he should write a message in the sand, warning people to stay away.

Robert will figure it out, he told himself, as he stepped farther into the surf.

After delivering Dominic’s breakfast, Robert returned to the hotel to find a small group gathered in the bar, discussing the possibility of returning to the mainland.

When he realized what was going on, he said, “Do you not get it? Did you not see what’s been going on everywhere else?”

He looked at the TV. Though the news channels had gone off the air, one of the movie channels was still broadcasting as if nothing was wrong. Its current selection: an old black and white gangster film.

“It can’t be everywhere,” one of the men at the table said.

“Maybe not, but it’s in Costa Rica. Where else are you going to go?” Robert asked.

The man shared a look with the others. “We thought we’d head north. For Texas.”

Robert stared at him. “And how exactly are you going to get there?”

“One of the boats.”

“First off, due north is Cuba, not Texas. And even if you did take a boat, which is not going to happen, there’s not enough gas on the island to even get you as far north as the Nicaraguan border, let alone all the way to the US.”

This last fact seemed to throw a wrench into the group’s plans. They grumbled for a few more minutes, then scattered, no doubt hoping to come up with an alternative idea.

Robert found Renee in the office, and they went over the inventory list.

“So this gives us, what? A month before we run out of food?”

“Maybe six weeks if we don’t do anything else,” she said. “But once we start fishing, we should be fine.”

He nodded. The sea would become their main food supplier if they were going to be on the island for an extended period of time. He and Dominic had discussed using the scuba boats to fish beyond the island, but had agreed it would be a good idea to wait until everyone settled in and got used to the idea they weren’t on vacation anymore.

“We’ll start up in a few days,” he told her. “Do we know if there’s anyone who can—”

“Come in, base,” a scratchy voice over the radio speaker said.

Robert snatched up the mic. “This is base. Who’s this?”

“Chuck Tyler.”

“Go ahead, Chuck.”

“Um, I think there’s someone in the water.”

Robert and Renee shared a puzzled look. “A body?”

“No, swimming. Away from the island.” A pause. “I think it might be Dominic,” Tyler said.

“Dominic?”

“Looks like whoever it is came straight out from his beach.”

Robert was sure Tyler had his geography wrong, and was about to say so when he remembered something from his visit with Dominic that morning.

His friend nowhere to be seen. Robert calling him, his panic growing. Then Dominic stepping out from behind a rock and telling him to relax, that he was just relieving himself.

Was that really what he’d been doing? He could have answered Robert even if he was in the middle of taking a piss. And why had Dominic stayed by the rocks while they’d talked? On other occasions, he’d always come a lot closer so conversation could be easier. And he had looked tired that morning. Robert had assumed that was from worry over his ordeal, but could it have been something else?

“Oh, my God,” he said.

He grabbed a spare walkie-talkie and raced out of the office.

“Where are you going?” Renee called after him.

Not answering, he ran through the bar and down the path to the bay. The two speedboats rocked calmly in the water next to the dock. He untied the lines mooring the nearest one and jumped on board. The engine rumbled to life on the first try, and instead of easing the boat away from the pier like everyone was supposed to do, he gave it all he could, and the boat shot away from shore like a rocket.

Dominic’s Beach was on the opposite side of the island from the bay. So even going all out, it took Robert fifteen minutes to get there. As the beach came into view, he raised the walkie-talkie to his mouth.

“Come in, Chuck.”

“This is Chuck.”

“Give me an update.”

“That you in the boat?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s a lot farther out now. Ahead and to your left. Uh, what is that? Port?”

“How far?”

“A couple football fields, I think. Hard to tell.”

Robert veered a few degrees to port. “Am I on line with him now?”

“A little bit more.”

Robert turned the wheel again.

“That’s it,” Chuck said.

“Give me a heads-up when I’m getting close.”

“You got it.”

Keeping his speed down so that he didn’t accidentally run over his friend in the water, Robert guided the boat carefully across the swells.

It wasn’t long before Chuck’s voice came over the radio again. “Slow down. You’re almost there. Right in front of you, maybe a hundred feet.”

Robert craned his neck, searching the water ahead. At first, he didn’t see anything, then a swell passed by and suddenly there was Dominic. Robert brought the boat up alongside his friend and cut the engine.

Dominic’s arms moved back and forth in a less-than-successful attempt to keep his head above water. He looked exhausted, his eyelids half closed.

Robert leaned over the side and reached out. “Give me your hand.”

Dominic bobbed up so that his mouth was above the waterline. “No. I’m…” The lower half of his face slipped into the water again, and it took a moment before he could get his mouth clear. “I’m sick. You’ll catch it.”

His hand still out, Robert said, “You’re fine. You just need some rest.”

“Robert, I’m sick. I’ve been throwing up and…” Under the water, then up again. “And coughing. I wanted…wanted to get…” He nearly choked as a wave slapped into his face. “I’m trying to get away so no one else…gets it. Trying to get to the current.”

Robert looked out at the open sea, toward the current that ran toward the Costa Rican coast. It was still a good half-mile away. What Dominic was trying to do was admirable but crazy.

“You’re never going to make it,” he said. “You’ll have to let me take you back.”

Dominic closed his eyes as if defeated. When he opened them again, he stared straight at Robert. “You have to help me.”

“Dominic, come on. Let’s get you home.”

“You have to help me. Throw me…a rope, and pull me out there.”

“Absolutely not. No way.”

“You don’t have…a…choice.” Dominic’s head went all the way under. When he popped back up, he gasped for air. “If you take me back…everyone dies.”

Robert pressed his lips together, his jaw clenched. “I’ll take you back to the beach,” he said after a moment. “You’ll be okay there.”

Dominic silently treaded water, then said, “It’s okay. Never mind. I shouldn’t have asked you.”

He started moving his arms again, breaststroke-style, swimming at a snail’s pace.

Robert stood rooted to the deck, confused and stunned. He had three choices, none of them good.

First choice: Forcibly bring his friend back to the island, which would entail exposing himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to die — of course he didn’t — but if he got sick, it would be as Dominic had feared, and others would likely fall victim, too.

Second choice: Return to the dock and let his friend go on. But there was no way Dominic would reach the current, so when the tide started coming in again, he would, too. No matter which beach he washed up on, he’d be bringing the flu back with him.

Third choice: Do as Dominic had asked. It was the only choice that would ensure no one else on the island became infected. But it would also mean playing an active role in his friend’s death.

Dominic had moved about fifteen feet closer to the current, every stroke he took a struggle.

Robert squeezed his eyes shut, the pain of the only real choice he had unbearable. When he opened them again, a tear escaped from the corner of his eye.

With sudden determination, he wiped it away, and removed a coil of rope from one of the seat lockers. He tied one end to a life preserver, which he tossed into the water next to his friend.

Hearing the splash, Dominic looked back.

“Grab on,” Robert said.

“I’m…not going back to shore.”

“I’ll take you where you want to go.”

Dominic studied him for a moment before he reached out and grabbed the life preserver. Robert tied the other end of the rope to a cleat, checked to make sure his friend was secure, and started the engine again.

Keeping his speed slow so Dominic wouldn’t be pulled off, he aimed the boat toward the current.

“What are you doing?” Chuck asked over the radio.

Robert left the walkie where it was.

“What’s going on?” Renee’s voice this time.

“He’s pulling Dominic farther out,” Chuck said, then started to tell her what he was seeing.

Robert reached over and turned the radio off.

Going as slowly as they were, he was able to feel the shift when they entered the current. He went a hundred yards in, and stopped so that the boat was alongside Dominic again. His friend looked even more tired than before, as both he and the boat began moving silently toward Costa Rica.

“I can take you all the way to the mainland,” Robert offered.

“A waste of…fuel. And you wouldn’t have enough to go back,” he said. “Besides…I’d never make it all the way.”

He struggled out of the life preserver.

“I don’t care about the fuel. And you might make it. It would give you a chance.”

Dominic tried to smile. “Thank you, Robert. You’re a good man and a good friend. That’s why they need you here. It’s up to you to make sure everyone survives.”

Before Robert could reply, Dominic let go of the preserver and slipped under the water. Robert nearly jumped in after him to pull him up, but caught himself.

A few seconds later Dominic appeared again, already thirty feet away from the boat.

Robert watched his friend go under again. This time Dominic didn’t come back up.

He remembered little of the ride back to the island. When he reached the dock, Renee and several others were waiting.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Dominic’s gone.”

“You left him out there,” someone else said accusingly.

Robert narrowed his eyes. “I took him where he wanted to go.”

“But why?” Renee asked.

“Because it was the only way he could save us.”

He pushed through the crowd and headed for the bar, intending to start with the first bottle he saw, and work his way through the last.

30

Judson smiled as they neared the house. The car that had been traced via satellite was still parked in front. It was indeed a Suburban.

He ordered the truck to stop in the driveway and block the exit in case the Ash kid and his friends were able to somehow get to their car. While the driver stayed with the truck, Judson and the rest of the team approached the house, weapons ready.

“Everyone, comm gear on,” he whispered.

The men did as instructed.

“You three,” Judson said, pointing, “around back. Let me know when you’re in position.”

“Yes, sir,” the men said, then moved off.

Judson and the two remaining men walked quietly up to the front door. It was locked, but that wasn’t a problem. There was a thin, decorative window next to the door that had been broken at the same height as the doorknob. Someone had taped cardboard over the hole, but it was easy enough to remove with very little noise. This was obviously the way the group from the camp had gotten inside.

Judson slipped his hand through the hole, unlocked the door, and opened it a few inches. He was surprised by how quiet it was inside. It was late morning, and he thought some of the kids would be making noise.

“In position,” one of the three at the back of the house reported.

“Hold there,” Judson said. “We’ll go in first. You follow in thirty seconds.” He looked back at his two companions. “Ready?”

Both men nodded.

“Let’s go.”

He pushed the door open and they crept inside.

When they heard the cars approach the house, Brandon looked back at Miss Collins again. It appeared as if she was going to say something, so he quickly shook his head and raised his finger to his lips.

They moved down into a swallow ravine, but instead of climbing up the other side, Brandon decided to go to the right and follow the less strenuous path, so they could quickly put as much distance between them and the house as possible. As they walked, Brandon continually scanned their surroundings for anywhere that might be a good place to hide, but so far he’d seen nothing useful.

“Brandon, I really gotta pee.”

The little boy from before had stopped and was rocking back and forth, his face all scrunched up.

“Okay. We’ll take a break here,” Brandon said. “Anyone else need to go?”

Several hands shot up, including Ellie’s. He set the girl down.

“Everyone, just find a tree, I guess.”

More than one kid said, “What?” while the others looked at Brandon, confused.

“How about this?” Miss Collins said. “Boys, you go over there behind those trees.” She pointed at a small cluster of pines to the right. “And girls, we’ll go over here.” She motioned toward a similar group on the left.

“We just go outside?” one of the kids asked.

“Uh-huh,” Miss Collins said. “Right on the ground.”

While the boys looked excited about this prospect, the girls didn’t appear to be happy at all.

“We’ve got to make it fast,” Brandon said. “So everyone get going.”

When the groups separated and did their business, Brandon and Loni ended up being the only two who didn’t need to take a break.

“Who are these people we’re hiding from?” Loni asked.

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

She looked almost hurt. “Yeah, I would.”

He realized she was probably right. “They’re the ones who’ve made everyone sick.”

“Are you serious?”

He nodded.

“And they want to make us sick, too?”

“Probably.”

The others started returning.

“I’ll tell you more later,” he whispered.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Ellie ran back to him and held her arms out, but instead he grabbed her hand. “Need you to walk for a little bit, okay?”

She looked disappointed, but nodded.

He was about to tell everyone, “Time to move,” when they all heard a voice yell back toward the house, just loudly enough for them to make out the words.

“Come on back! No sense in hiding! We’re here to help you, not hurt you!”

Several of the kids looked at Brandon, wondering if he’d made a mistake.

“Get back here! Now!” The last was shouted in a harsh burst, like there’d be trouble if the order wasn’t followed.

“We need to keep moving,” Brandon said. “Let’s go.”

They had been here. They just weren’t here anymore.

The living room was covered with blankets and pillows and makeshift beds. There were several personal bags, too, and an open jar of peanut butter and a box of crackers in the kitchen, all of which led Judson to believe they’d left in a hurry not that long ago.

The fact that the Suburban was still there meant that either someone had picked them up — which seemed highly unlikely — or they had left on foot. A quick search around the perimeter revealed a few footprints out back leading into the woods. Unfortunately, because the cold had made the ground hard, the tracks soon disappeared.

“Goddammit,” Judson said. They were just kids. Why did they have to complicate things?

He looked all around, trying to get a sense of where they might have gone, but each direction was as good and as bad as another.

What he needed to do was flush them out. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Come on back! No sense in hiding! We’re here to help you, not hurt you!”

In the silence that followed, he listened for any sound of movement, but there was nothing.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

“Get back here! Now!” he shouted, anger sneaking into this voice.

Control yourself, idiot.

A crack off to the right — slight, distant. A branch breaking. It could have been anything, or it could have been them.

He looked back at his team, and pointed in the direction of the sound. “Spread out.”

Brandon spun around the moment he heard the crack.

A dozen feet behind him, Billy looked horrified, his foot still on the branch he’d snapped in two. “Sorry.”

Brandon looked past him in the direction of the house. They were probably far enough away that it wouldn’t matter, but still…

“We need to move faster,” he said. “Watch your step, but try to keep up.”

He started out again, his pace doubled.

He hoped it would be enough.

Chloe pulled the Audi to the side of the road. A hundred feet ahead was the driveway to the house where Brandon had apparently spent the night. As she started to open her door, she could hear Josie doing the same in the backseat.

“Uh-uh. You’re staying here,” she said.

“No way,” Josie said.

“There are armed men up there.”

“Yeah, I know. And what if one of them finds me here while you’re gone?”

Chloe frowned. She didn’t think that was likely, but it didn’t mean it couldn’t happen. “Okay, but stay behind us, and when I say down, you get down.”

“I will.”

Once out of the car, Chloe and Miller supplemented the guns they were already carrying with additional ammunition and, in Chloe’s case, a seven-inch KA-BAR hunting knife from Miller’s duffel bag.

“What about me?” Josie asked. “I know how to shoot. Dad taught me.”

“At targets, yes,” Chloe said. “Not at a person.”

“I could if I had to.”

Chloe looked at her. “Maybe, but not today.”

They ran along the edge of the road, then turned into the woods and worked their way toward the house, parallel to the driveway. It wasn’t long before they spotted the large troop truck. It was stopped in the middle of the driveway, blocking access.

Chloe motioned for the other two to wait. She continued forward through the trees until she was even with the vehicle’s cab. Not seeing anyone inside, she switched her attention to the area beyond the vehicle. She could see the house now. It was a large, modern vacation home that, at the moment, had its front door halfway open. Parked in front of the house were the Suburban and the military sedan that had been following the Audi.

Standing between the two cars was a member of the Project Eden team, holding a rifle. Chloe double-checked to make sure he was alone, then made her way back to Miller and Josie and described what she’d found.

When finished, she locked eyes with Josie. “This time, you stay right here until I motion for you to join us, understand?”

Josie nodded.

Chloe and Miller went around the back of the truck and into the woods on the other side. From there, they worked their way toward the house, stopping just shy of the parking area.

From this angle the soldier’s back was to them. Chloe pantomimed what she wanted to do, and Miller nodded.

Chloe moved in silently behind the soldier, while Miller held back several feet, covering her with his gun. Five feet away, she launched herself, arm flying around the guard’s neck. He tried to bash her with his gun as he struggled to throw her off, but Miller moved in and ripped the rifle from his hands.

The man attempted to yell through his constricted windpipe, but managed nothing more than a feeble gasp. His face started to turn red as she clamped down harder. His desperation grew, even as his attempts to free himself weakened.

Finally, his body went limp, but Chloe didn’t release her grip. She had zero compassion for anyone associated with Project Eden. They had taken her past from her and killed her friends, not to mention the little matter of the genocide they were in the middle of committing.

No, she had no compassion at all.

When she was sure he was dead, she laid him on the ground and looked at Miller. He’d been keeping watch while she finished off the guard. He shook his head, letting her know the noise had gone undetected.

Harlan had reported seven men in the Project Eden team that had gone into the mountains. Six more to go.

They moved to the open door of the house, expecting to hear noises inside, but the house was eerily silent.

Keeping low, Chloe crept into the foyer, and peeked around the corner into the rest of the house. Blankets and pillows were scattered all around the living room, but the room itself was unoccupied.

Good, Chloe thought. Christina’s warning had worked, and Brandon had gotten them out.

The question was, had the Project Eden team found them yet?

Chloe and Miller located the back door and headed outside, hoping they weren’t too late.

“What’s that?” Loni asked.

Brandon looked in the direction she was pointing. There was something to the left, through the trees. Something manmade. It was white, or at least had been once. A cabin, or perhaps a shed.

“Everyone wait here for a moment,” he said.

“Something wrong?” Miss Collins asked.

“I want to check something.” He looked down at Ellie. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

She didn’t look happy but she nodded and let go of his hand.

As he ran toward the structure, he heard someone following him. He glanced over his shoulder to find Loni keeping pace with him a couple yards back.

“I want to see what it is, too,” she said.

He contemplated telling her to go back, but decided there was no reason to, so he ran on.

The structure turned out to be neither a cabin nor a shed, at least not in the traditional sense. It had once been a mobile home, but now was a wreck. Three quarters of the roof had collapsed, and an entire sidewall was lying on the ground in pieces. Holes from shotgun blasts covered much of the walls that were still standing.

It had been a long time since anyone had ever called this place home, Brandon thought. He scanned the small clearing surrounding the trailer. How had it arrived here? For that matter, how had the people who lived here gone to and from civilization? There had to be a road, one wide enough for the trailer.

He finally spotted an opening in the trees on the other side of the clearing, and jogged over. Though the forest had started to reclaim it, signs of the old road were still there.

He looked back at the trailer. It could be a passable shelter, but if the Project Eden people spotted it, they would check it for sure.

The road, though, would provide an easier route through the forest, and allow them to get farther faster.

“Come on,” he said to Loni as he started running back to the others.

A click of a tongue.

Judson looked toward the noise. One of the men ahead of him had paused and was waving for him to come over.

“What is it?” he whispered when he got there.

The man pointed at a broken branch on the ground. Judson bent down for a better look. It had been snapped cleanly in two, as if someone had stepped on it.

Excellent, he thought as he rose back up. He knew it wouldn’t be long now. The Ash kid and his buddies couldn’t be more than seven or eight minutes ahead of them.

He pointed ahead, and the team started out again.

Where are they? Josie wondered.

Chloe and Miller should have been back by now. Josie had heard something a few minutes earlier, grunting and what sounded like feet scuffing the ground, but after that, nothing. The problem was that she couldn’t see a thing. The truck was not only blocking the road, but also her view of everything on the other side.

She stood there, frustrated, torn between her promise to Chloe to remain where she was and her desire to know what was going on.

Maybe she could move down until the truck was out of the way. She’d still be in the forest, so that wouldn’t be breaking her promise, right?

Staying within the woods, she crept forward until the truck was no longer obstructing her view. She could see the house now and the two vehicles parked in front. The front door of the home was open.

As she looked around for Chloe and Miller, she spotted the lower half of two legs lying on the ground, sticking out from between the cars.

Miller? she wondered.

Fear squeezed her heart.

Where’s Chloe?

She whipped her head around again, but Chloe was nowhere to be seen, so she looked back at the feet. If the cars mostly hid one body, they could easily be hiding two. And if Miller and Chloe were dead, it would be up to Josie to save her brother.

Deciding her promise was no longer valid, she shot out from the cover of the trees and crossed over to the body, not daring to breathe again until she was safely between the two cars.

The dead man was not Miller. Nor was there a second body.

Her relief was tempered by her concern about where Chloe and Miller were. In the house? It seemed awfully quiet there. If they were confronting the rest of the Project Eden squad, wouldn’t she hear something?

What if they were in trouble?

What if they needed help?

Her father had been training her and Brandon to handle these kinds of situations. She did know how to shoot a gun. True, she had never shot at a person before, but if someone she cared about was in trouble, she knew she could pull the trigger.

She glanced down at the dead soldier, at the rifle lying beside him.

Another tongue click, this time from the man farthest to the left. He was pointing at something hidden in the trees, not too far off.

A building, Judson thought, smiling. The kind of place a group of kids might think was a good place to hide.

Using hand signals, he redirected his team toward it.

Chloe held up her hand, stopping Miller. She’d heard something, a noise. Kind of like the sound a woodpecker would make if it hit a tree only once. She had no idea if woodpeckers ever came to this part of the country, but she was pretty damn sure one wouldn’t be knocking away at a trunk during the winter.

She waited, hoping to hear it again, but there was no reprise.

She nodded in her best guess of the direction it had come from. “That way.”

Judson cursed to himself.

The structure, which turned out to be an abandoned mobile home, was empty. He’d been so sure he was going to find them there.

“Sir,” Williams, one of his men, whispered over the comm.

Judson turned away from the trailer.

“Footprints,” Williams said.

He was at the edge of the clearing near a gap in the trees. Judson walked over.

Williams pointed at the ground. “There, sir.”

In a patch of loose dirt were several footprints, all of them too small to belong to an adult. They were aimed toward the gap in the trees.

Not only a gap, Judson realized. A road.

“This way,” he said, going through the opening. “Double time.”

“I’m tired,” one of the kids shouted.

Before Brandon could react, Loni said, “Quiet.”

“Can’t we stop?” another asked.

“We have to keep going,” Brandon said.

“Why?”

“We don’t want the bad men to find us.”

“Brandon,” Miss Collins said. “They need to rest. Just for a little bit.”

He could see all the kids looked beat. Even Billy and Carter seemed to be dragging. He stopped. “Five minutes. Then we gotta go again.”

Most of the kids plopped down right where they’d been standing.

Miss Collins walked over to Brandon. “They can’t keep going like this. They’re too young. They don’t have the strength you do.”

“Just a little longer,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll find someplace we can hide.”

She looked around, her expression a mix of compassion and resignation. “Where?”

Before he could answer, Ellie, who was still beside him, said, “I need to go potty.”

“I’ll take you, sweetie,” Miss Collins said.

Ellie shook her head. “Brandon.”

“Actually, I think it’s better if Miss Collins takes you,” Brandon said.

Ellie looked doubtful.

“It’s okay. I’ll be right here,” he told her.

Reluctantly, she let go of his hand and went with Miss Collins.

After they left, Brandon decided he needed to relieve himself, too. He chose a tree not too far away, circled behind it, and unzipped.

“Brandon!” It was Miss Collins. She sounded odd.

“Just a sec,” he said.

He finished and zipped up. He circled back around the tree, but immediately stopped.

Miss Collins was standing not too far beyond the spot where they’d parted a few minutes earlier. Behind her was a man holding a gun to her head. Two other men were behind him.

The man with the gun grinned. “So, you’re Brandon?”

Brandon’s mouth went dry. “Um, yes,” he said, barely loudly enough to be heard.

“Brandon Ash?” the man said.

It wasn’t a chill that shot up Brandon’s spine. It was an arctic blast.

Once they discovered that the kids had gone down the road, it didn’t take long before Judson and his men heard them ahead.

Judson ordered three of his men to quietly follow the kids, while he and the other two moved into the forest, intending to arc around to get in front of their prey and overwhelm them from both sides. But the kids stopped in the middle of the road before Judson’s small squad was in place.

“Hold,” Judson whispered, crouching down behind some brush.

Through the branches, he examined the group of children. Ten kids. No, eleven. But only one adult. A woman. Judson had figured there would be at least two, if not three. This would make things even easier.

“Williams?” he said softly into his mic.

“Go for Williams.” He was one of the three left behind the kids.

“Get ready to move in.”

“Copy.”

“Let us—” Judson cut himself off.

The woman and a small girl were heading into the woods in their direction. As they drew nearer, he could hear them talking.

“…than that,” the woman said. “It won’t be much longer now.”

“My feet hurt.”

“I’m sure they do.” The woman paused. “Let’s go right behind that bush.”

“Okay.”

‘That bush’ was only fifteen feet ahead and to the left of Judson’s position.

“Everyone hold,” he whispered.

The woman and the girl circled around the bush and stopped.

“Here?” the girl asked.

“Here’s fine.”

The woman turned her back to Judson to help the girl. As soon as the girl finished going to the bathroom, the woman leaned down to assist her again.

Judson took that as his cue and moved out from his hiding place, motioning for the two men with him to follow. He was able to get in right behind the woman a moment before she stood up.

The little girl sucked in a breath when she saw him. The woman started to turn, but Judson grabbed her and placed his gun against her back.

“Quiet now,” he said. “If you cooperate, no one will get hurt. All right?”

She nodded.

“Let’s go back to your other friends.”

“Come on, Ellie,” the woman said, holding her hand out to the girl.

“These are the bad men,” Ellie said.

“It’s okay,” the woman told her. “Come on.”

Ellie hesitated a second, then took the woman’s hand.

Keeping the gun at her back, Judson guided them over to the other kids.

“Which one’s Brandon?” Judson asked.

The woman looked around. “He’s not here.”

He moved the gun to her head. “Don’t lie to me. Which one?”

“I’m not lying. He was here, but he’s not now.”

“Call him.”

The woman said nothing.

“Call. Him.” He twisted the gun’s muzzle against her temple.

“Brandon!” she yelled.

“Brandon!”

Chloe and Miller froze.

The voice belonged to a woman, and had come from fifty yards away at most.

Chloe and Miller moved into woods to cut down the chance of being seen, and continued on. As they got closer, they could hear another voice, a man’s. Though he was too far away for them to understand him, his tone suggested he was giving orders.

Another twenty feet on, Miller grabbed Chloe’s shoulder and pulled her to a stop. He pointed back at the road. Three soldiers had stepped out of the trees on the other side. They paused in the middle, talked for a moment, then two headed toward the voices, while the third stayed where he was.

There was no question in Chloe’s mind about what was going on. The Project Eden team had found Brandon and the others. The man waiting on the road was the safety net in case someone tried to escape.

That was something they could use to their advantage.

Chloe whispered her plan into Miller’s ear. He nodded, and made his way silently to a point about forty feet deeper into the woods, nearly level with the man’s position. Chloe went in the other direction, stopping just inside the forest.

Right on schedule, Miller scraped a foot across the ground, and walked in place loudly enough for a few footfalls to be heard.

The guard whipped his head to the right, peering into the darkness.

Miller waited a second before he scraped the ground again.

The guard glanced down the road where his friends had gone, then looked back into the woods.

“Someone’s out here,” he said.

Radios, Chloe thought. Crap.

She would have to be extra careful.

The man was quiet for a few seconds, then nodded. “Copy.”

Holding his rifle tightly, he headed into the woods. The moment he passed Chloe’s position, she moved in behind him.

His first indication that something was wrong was her hand on his mouth. His second was the knife plunging into his chest.

Chloe dropped him to the ground. Two down.

“You’re Captain Ash’s son, right?” the man with the gun asked Brandon.

Brandon remained silent.

“That’s a yes, I take it. My bosses will be very interested to talk to you.”

“You don’t have to hold your gun against her like that,” Brandon said. “I’m not going to run.”

The man smiled, and pulled the gun away from Miss Collins’s head. “All right. But if you do try, I’ll kill her.”

One of the kids started to cry, while a few others looked on the verge of doing the same.

“I said I won’t.”

The man smiled at Brandon, and looked at the others. “Listen up. This is what’s going to happen. I’ll give you another…” He paused. “Two minutes to rest, then we’re going to walk back to the house.”

“What happens then?” Carter asked.

“That depends on how well you behave.” The man surveyed the kids. “Any other questions?”

No one said anything.

“Good,” he said. He let go of Miss Collins. “You should rest, too.”

He took a step back, and motioned for his two men to spread out. He touched something on his shirt and said, “Williams?” There was a pause. “Two of you come in. The other stays out there in case someone tries to sneak by.”

He must be talking on a radio, Brandon guessed. Sure enough, seconds later, two more soldiers arrived.

Suddenly, the main guy cocked his head to the side. After a moment, he said into his radio, “Check it out and report back.” He took a step forward. “Time’s up, everyone. On your feet. We’re getting out of here.”

The kids slowly got to their feet.

“Who’s missing?” the man asked Brandon.

“What?” Brandon asked.

“Who’s missing? There’s someone not here.”

Brandon looked around. All eleven kids and Miss Collins were there. “I don’t know what you mean. Everyone’s here.”

The man took a step closer. “Don’t lie to me!”

“I’m not lying. We’re all here.”

The man studied Brandon’s face, then turned and walked several feet away. “Krieger, report.” He paused. “Krieger, report.” Another pause. He shot a look at the two newly arrived men. “Go.”

They went back the way they’d come.

That’s when it hit Brandon.

Chloe.

Chloe and miller were ready and waiting when the two men returned. Instead of luring them into the woods with a sound, they used the dead soldier’s body, leaving his head sticking out from the tree line just far enough to be seen.

Like moths to a light, the two men rushed to their fallen comrade. Chloe and Miller were on them before they even knew what happened.

Four down.

“Williams?” Judson said.

No response.

“Williams, what the hell’s going on?”

Still nothing.

What the fuck?

He glanced at McGrath and Torres. Both men looked concerned.

“Let’s get everyone together,” he ordered.

But before any of them could take a step, a shot rang out. McGrath fell to the ground, and Torres stumbled a few feet before joining him. Several of the kids screamed.

Not one shot, Judson realized. Two. He slipped behind a tree just as another bullet hit its trunk.

“Everyone get down!” Brandon Ash said. “Lie on the ground!”

Judson searched around, desperate. The girl who’d had to go to the bathroom was two feet away. He grabbed her and pulled her to his chest.

“Leave me alone!” she screamed, and started to wail.

“Let her go!” Brandon yelled.

Judson ignored him as the girl struggled in his arms. “Stop it or I’ll break your arm.”

Though her whimpering didn’t stop, her thrashing ceased.

“Please,” Brandon said again. “Let her go. You…you can take me instead.”

Judson looked at the girl and then at Brandon. The boy was a lot bigger than she was, and would be much better as a shield.

“Fine. Get over here,” he said.

“Let her go first.”

“No way.”

The boy hesitated a moment, then crawled over. Judson grabbed his arm and dropped the girl.

“Go to Miss Collins,” Brandon told her.

The girl stood there like she didn’t want to leave.

“Go on,” Brandon said.

Tears streaming down her face, she nodded, and disappeared around the tree.

Judson yanked Brandon in front of him, and held him against his chest with his left arm.

“Come on out,” a female voice called. “We know you’re back there.”

Who the hell is that?

His gaze darted all over the place. There had to be an escape somewhere, a way out of this mess.

There were enough trees that if he ran straight back, maybe they wouldn’t be able to get a shot at him.

“You’re wasting time,” the woman said. “You’re not getting away, so come on out.”

Judson adjusted his hold on the boy, and whispered, “Follow my lead.” He took a step forward.

The roar of the gun wasn’t as surprising as the sensation of the bullet passing by only a few feet in front of him.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” a man said, his voice coming from the side.

Judson turned, putting Brandon between him and the shooter. The guy was about forty feet away, leaning out from behind a tree.

“Let the boy go,” the man said.

Judson placed the muzzle of his gun against Brandon’s head. “You let me out of here first, then he can go.”

“What’s going on?” the woman asked. She was closer now.

“He’s got Brandon,” the man replied. “Says if we let him get away, he’ll let Brandon go.”

Worried that she was going to sneak up behind him, Judson twisted around the tree, keeping Brandon in front of him. He was now out of sight of the man, but could see the woman. She was less than thirty feet away, her gun aimed at him. If she pulled the trigger, though, there was a very good chance she’d hit the kid first.

“Back off and let me go,” he said.

“Brandon!” the little girl yelled.

“Get them out of here,” the woman with the gun said to the one Brandon had called Miss Collins.

Fear in her eyes, Miss Collins began ushering the kids away.

“Put your gun down,” the woman said to Judson.

He pushed the barrel hard against Brandon’s ear. “You put yours down. Both you and your friend. When I’ve put enough room between us, I’ll let the kid go.”

“And why should I trust you?”

“Because you have no choice.”

She paused, looked toward where the other man had been standing, then back at Judson. “All right.” She started to lower her gun to the ground.

Boom!

Josie was sure she’d gone the wrong way.

When she found the house empty, she’d gone out the back, thinking it was the only direction everyone could have taken. She found trample marks on a bed of pine needles leading to the right, and assumed that was the way the others had gone. But since then, she had found no one.

She was about to turn back when she heard the gunshots. They were about a hundred yards ahead and to the left. She ran as fast as she could, then ducked into the cover of the woods at the first sign of movement. Peering around a tree, she saw Chloe, her gun raised in front of her. Scattered around her were several kids.

“Back off and let me go.”

Josie’s view of the speaker was blocked, but before she could even adjust her position, a little voice hollered, “Brandon!”

Brandon? Had he been hurt?

“Get them out of here,” Chloe said.

Josie moved to her left for a better view. She froze. One of the soldiers had an arm around Brandon and was holding a gun against her brother’s head.

“Put your gun down,” Chloe said.

“You put yours down,” he replied. “Both you and your friend. When I’ve put enough room between us, I’ll let the kid go.”

Josie didn’t believe that for a second. He was going to kill Brandon.

She lifted her newly acquired rifle to her shoulder, almost without thinking.

Breathe.

Hold.

Let a little out.

Squeeze.

Chloe whirled around as the crack of a rifle filled the air. She aimed her gun toward the source of the shot. When she didn’t see anything right away, she glanced back at Brandon and the soldier.

They were both lying on the ground.

No! She rushed over, heedless of the other shooter. As she dropped to her knees, she realized Brandon was trying to get out from under the man’s arm. She pulled the limb to the side and Brandon rolled free.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so,” he said.

The soldier was not, however. The shot had caught him squarely in the eye.

“Brandon?”

Chloe and Brandon turned. Josie stepped out between the trees, a rifle in her hand.

“Did…did you…was that…” Brandon said.

Josie dropped the gun as she ran to him. She wrapped her arms around him, and he wrapped his around hers.

“You’re okay,” she said. “You’re okay.”

“I’m okay. I’m fine.”

Chloe climbed to her feet and scanned the forest. Though all seven men from the Project Eden team were dead, she couldn’t help feeling like another would somehow show up any second.

Finally, she locked eyes with Miller and they both breathed a sigh of relief.

When the Ash kids finally broke their hug, Chloe narrowed her eyes and said to Josie, “Thought I told you to stay back by the truck.”

“And I told you I knew how to shoot.”

A half laugh. “That, you did.”

Chloe threw her arms around both of them. Though it was a gross understatement, she said, “Good to see you, Brandon.”

“Good to see you, too.”

Even though the majority of their group was now children, there were too many of them to all fit on the Resistance’s jet. But Chloe had an idea for how to deal with that. Before going back to the house, she and Miller stripped the fatigues off the soldiers, and used the transport truck to haul everyone down the mountain to Colorado Springs.

Instead of pulling up to their jet, they stopped next to the one belonging to Project Eden. Dressed in the fatigues, Miller entered the aircraft, and returned a couple minutes later with the two crew members who had been waiting on board. They locked the men inside a closet in the control tower complex. Given enough time, they’d be able to knock the door down. Chloe had wondered if she should kill them, too, but there had been enough death that day.

Finally, with Barry at the controls of the appropriated plane, and Harlan flying their original jet, they headed home, where they would increase the Resistance’s numbers by ten newly inoculated children, one newly inoculated adult, and the return of Brandon Ash.

31

There had been no report for hours from the team that had been sent to Colorado. Even the crew of the plane had not responded.

It was troubling, yes, but in the grand scheme of things, not something Perez could worry about. Others could figure out what happened and make the appropriate decision about what to do next. He needed to concentrate on the bigger picture, especially now that the time for the official cleanup phase had arrived.

“Are we ready?” he asked Claudia.

“Everything’s set.”

He watched the final seconds before the top of the hour click off on his computer’s clock. When only two seconds remained, he said, “Begin.”

32

As they walk through the offices of K-Ridge, Martina can’t help but feel some of the luster of the radio world fall away. The place is a dump, and not the magical land of music she’d pictured when she was younger.

With her are Noreen, Riley, and Craig, the group now responsible for getting the station working. She can see they are equally unimpressed.

A flip of a light switch reveals that the building at least still has power.

The studio itself is a little better, though more cramped than she imagined. They turn some dials and push some buttons. A few light up, while others don’t. At one point, feedback blares from a set of headphones lying next to the control board. Craig yanks down the control switch he just slid up.

“Sorry,” he says.

On the wall, a digital clock reads 03:59:37 PM. This, Martina thinks, is the master clock the DJs used when they announced the time. How many times has this clock affected her life? More than once.

“Maybe there’s an instruction manual somewhere?” Noreen says.

Martina thinks it would be more likely manuals plural, not singular, and probably written so only an engineer could understand them. But it’s not a bad idea, and she’s about to say so when they hear a voice from the other room.

They look at each other for a moment, and rush through the door.

The voice is coming out of a radio that must have been on when the station had stopped broadcasting.

“Did we do that?” Martina asks, wondering if they triggered a prerecorded show.

“Maybe,” Craig says.

But as they listen, they realize it’s nothing they did. The voice is coming from somewhere else, and what it says takes them all by surprise.

Sanjay and Kusum are sound asleep when someone knocks on the door of the dorm room they have claimed.

“Sanjay! Sanjay, wake up!”

Jeeval stirs from where she’s been sleeping on the floor.

Ap. Ap.

The barks are halfhearted, but jarring nonetheless.

Sanjay opens his eyes, wanting nothing more than to sleep for another hour. He checks his watch—6:36 a.m.

“Sanjay!”

Now that he’s more awake than asleep, he recognizes Naresh’s voice. “What is it?”

“You have to come hear this.”

“Hear what?”

“It is on the radio. Hurry. In the headmaster’s house.”

Both confused and curious, Sanjay gets up and starts to dress.

“Tell me if it’s important,” Kusum says from the bed. She rolls over and pulls his now unused pillow over her head.

When he gets to the house, he finds in addition to Naresh that Ritu and one of the children are there, too. Out of the speakers of the headmaster’s stereo a voice is talking in Hindi.

“Is this a CD?” Sanjay asks.

“It’s the radio,” Naresh tells him.

“I woke early,” Ritu says. “I wanted to hear some music. So I was trying to see if I could find a station that might still be playing some.”

“And you found this?” Sanjay asks.

“No. Well, I mean, yes. This popped on. It’s…it’s on all the channels. Here.” She turns the dial and sure enough, the same voice is speaking on other stations. “It is also in English. This is the third time through.”

Sanjay listens to the voice, then looks at the others.

The astonishment in their faces mirrors his own.

Belinda stops typing mid-sentence and frowns. She’s thinking too much.

“Poor lonely you,” she says. “At least you’re still breathing.”

As she stretches, she realizes what she really needs is something to eat, so she goes down to the lounge. Tonight she decides to treat herself to a double dose of spicy shrimp Top Ramen. As the noodles and water heat up in the microwave, she wanders over to the window and looks outside, hoping to spot someone walking around. It’s something she does every mealtime now.

And while, predictably, there is no one around, a flicker grabs her attention.

Her building is L-shaped, allowing her to see into the windows on the other extension. In the lounge across the way and one floor down, the TV has been left on. She’s noticed it before, but since the networks went off air, it has displayed nothing but black.

Now, though, she can see a person facing the camera, like a news reporter. Is the epidemic on the wane? Is life starting to come back to normal?

She walks quickly over to her lounge’s TV and turns it on. She hovers her finger over the remote, thinking she’ll have to hunt around to find the broadcast she saw, but it’s unnecessary. The image of the man is on her screen.

Behind her, the microwave beeps to let her know her noodles are ready, but she doesn’t hear it. All her attention is on the monitor.

Robert’s plan has not gone exactly as he’d hoped. While he has been sufficiently buzzed for the last several hours, he has yet to achieve the oblivion he wants the alcohol to bring on.

He isn’t the only one who has been drinking. Many of the other resort staff members have been downing their fair share since news of Dominic’s sacrifice spread. Many of the former guests of the resort, especially those who were thinking about returning to the mainland, sit around the bar stunned. Some have drinks in front of them, but most are sober.

Everyone knows if it wasn’t for Dominic’s selfless act, they would have all probably died. There is no talk of going back to the US now. They all realize that setting foot off Isabella Island means death. If Robert’s mind were a little clearer, he would note that Dominic’s actions not only saved everyone, but also brought the survivors closer together.

On the television above the bar, the classic movie channel they have been watching is still going strong. It’s playing the old David Niven film, Around the World in Eighty Days. Phileas Fogg and Passepartout are on a train in the Wild West of the United States.

Robert barely registers it. The sound of the train, the dialogue, the music are all background noise. The sudden cessation of this noise, though, causes him to look up.

The train is gone. The West is gone. Phileas and Passepartout are gone.

In their place is a man in an image that most definitely was not shot in the 1950s. He is perhaps in his late forties, and stands in front of a gray wall. Hung on the wall is a flag — a field of blue with the white outlined globe of Earth in the center.

The flag of the United Nations.

Several others in the bar seem to notice, too. They move in behind Robert, their gaze fixed on the television.

For several seconds, the man simply stares straight out of the screen. Then he opens his mouth to speak.

The first question Brandon and Josie have as they reenter the Bunker is about their father. When Matt tells them he’s awake, they break into a run, not stopping until they reach Captain Ash’s room.

He is propped up in bed, his arm raised so that Dr. Gardiner can check the progress of his recovery. The second he sees his kids, he tries to swing his legs off the bed. His strength still leaves something to be desired, though, so it isn’t difficult for the doctor to stop him.

It doesn’t matter. The kids are at his side, hugging him. When he asks where they’ve been, they start to tell him, but their words collide with each other in a rush, so he asks them to slow down.

Chloe enters the room with Matt and says, “Well, look who’s up.”

Ash’s smile broadens. He holds out his hand to her. “Chloe.”

She takes it, gives it a squeeze, and lets go.

When he looks back at his kids, he says, “Why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like this story?”

“What story?” Matt asks.

“Where we’ve been,” Brandon says.

“Doesn’t matter where they’ve been,” Chloe says. “They’re here now. So at least you know the story has a happy ending.”

The smirk on Ash’s face is skeptical. “If that was supposed to make me feel better, it didn’t.”

A phone rings in the outer area beyond Ash’s room. Lily Franklin picks up the call, listens for a moment, then yells, “Turn on the television!”

Chloe grabs the remote from the nightstand and flips on the TV.

As they listen to the man speak while standing in front of the UN flag, the tension in the room spikes. They know he’s lying. They know he’s not who he says he is. They know what his message really means.

When he finishes, the first one to speak is Matt.

“Oh, shit.”

The message was prepared in every conceivable language that Project Eden thought necessary. Versions exist for both television and radio, and text versions have been posted on the Internet for those who might still have access.

The plan to broadcast the message around the world at the same time began years earlier, the work paying off nearly flawlessly as the code to execute is entered. There are a few minor glitches here and there, but these will be rectified presently.

The words unspool on a loop that will repeat for the next several weeks. Principal Director Perez has been assured that by the time it finishes, it will lead to at least ninety percent of those still alive being identified.

At that point, it will merely be a decision of who fits in the Project’s plans for the future, and who does not.