“They are, sure.” Joe sighed. “But most people don’t know that. McReady’s breakthrough, whatever it is, is new science. We don’t even know what it is yet, or whether it’ll really change things. And without McReady’s research, we’re still stuck on the same sinking ship.”

Lilah said, “Have you given up hope too?”

Joe adjusted the seat belts carefully around Lilah’s wound. “Not a chance.”

“You’re going to fight back?”

“Honey, I never stopped fighting.” He slid his katana into a slot on the quad. “So here’s the plan. We’re going to find your friends, and then you kids are going to help me search every inch of that plane. If there’s any chance that even some of McReady’s research survived the crash, then I need to secure it and get it into the hands of the rest of the research team.”

“Where are they?”

“Close,” said Joe. “McReady only took a small team with her to Hope One. The rest of the science geeks are split between a new lab in North Carolina and one they set up in a military base out here. They had to reclaim the base from the zoms, but that was no problem, and it was in great shape. It was what they called a ‘hardened’ facility, meaning that the EMPs didn’t knock out the power. Once they reclaimed it, the geek squad were able to repurpose the base from military research and development to a biological research facility.”

“A laboratory?” asked Lilah. “Out here?”

“Yup,” said Joe. “Really well-hidden but closer than you’d think. McReady named it Sanctuary.”

And he told Lilah where it was.

Chapter 59

59

AS THE SOUND OF THE RANGER’S QUAD FADED, SISTER AMY ROLLED OUT from under the line of shrubs. Her mind burned with the things she wanted to tell Saint John. Needed to tell him.

Sanctuary.

And . . . nine towns.

Towns with no organized defenses.

As she ran through the woods she could not keep the smile off her face.

Chapter 60

60

BROTHER PETER KNELT IN THE DIRT BEFORE SAINT JOHN. HE RESTED HIS weight on his fists, his head was bowed, and he waited for the storm of the saint’s wrath to tear the world apart.

But there was silence.

After almost three excruciating minutes, Brother Peter raised his head and looked at the man who he worshipped more than the Lord Thanatos. His friend, his mentor, and in every way that mattered, his father.

Saint John stood there, hands clasped behind his back, head tilted to one side as he watched monkeys frolic in the trees. No storms of rage burned across the saint’s face. There were no tears.

There was nothing.

“Honored One?” ventured Brother Peter. “Did you hear what I—?”

Saint John spoke, his quiet voice overriding the younger man’s.