He knew because he would be doing the same thing. His entire career had been spent in recon. When the time came for promotions, he turned them all down. He didn’t care about money or rank. Most of his money went to child support anyway, and his dress uniform was already filled with medals. His passion was for the fight—for the heat of the battle, for the scent of the enemy. It was what he lived for.

But now he was the one being hunted. A familiar knot grew in his stomach, and he winced as the gel finally cauterized his wound through an invisible chemical reaction.

“We need to find cover. Radio silence from here on out. We don’t know if they are listening. Keep that girl quiet,” he ordered.

With two short motions, he waved the team away from the Jeep and into the tree-lined hills. The silhouettes of the trees appeared in eerie green across his display, like toy soldiers protecting the ridgeline.

For an hour they trekked through the forest, heading farther and farther from civilization. The coordinates were farther away than he had thought, reminding him he hadn’t done any true orienteering in years. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had only a map, a compass, and a set of coordinates instead of some sort of GPS device.

To further complicate things, the silence of the night was alarming. It distracted him. He’d never been in such a dead zone before. Even the animals had disappeared. If Sophie was right, then they had probably been turned into Kool-Aid as well.

Overton balled his hand into a fist and halted. He strained his ears; the nothingness was ghostly. Gone were the hum of machines and the familiar sound of chirping insects. Vanished were the agitating sirens that plagued the violent cities. The silence was unnatural.

Deep down, a part of him wished it was all a dream, that the wail of a police car would tear through the night or the thump of the blades from an NTC helicopter would sound overhead. But he was a Marine, and he knew the truth of the situation.

We are alone.

Overton shot an advance signal to Finley. The private took the lead, sprinting up the hill, chunks of dirt and loose pinecones kicking up behind him. The darkness quickly consumed him, his heat signature fading from Overton’s HUD until it was gone altogether.