THE alarm tore through the early morning silence. Sophie shot up, narrowly avoiding punching Emanuel in the gut. Fear raced through her as she tossed the sheets off the bed and rushed to grab her headset. Her stomach lurched when her feet hit the cold floor.

She felt like she’d been hit head-on by a truck, and then backed over.

Everything hurt.

Her head pounded, her vision was cloudy, and worst of all, she couldn’t think. Brainpower was the one thing that had gotten her through a laundry list of dicey situations in the past. Without it she was nothing more than another blonde in a lab coat.

“Alexia, what’s going on?”

“Dr. Winston, there is something I think you may want to see.”

“Can’t you just tell me over the com? It’s only”—Sophie paused to look at her watch—“0800. Shit, I overslept. I’m on my way.”

The red glow from the emergency lights lit the room, illuminating Emanuel’s tired eyes. Sophie fumbled for her clothes in the dim light.

“Stay put,” she barked.

“Is it Saafi?” he asked, sitting up.

“I don’t know. I’m headed to the control room to find out.”

Sophie rushed into the hallway, where she collided with Finley. She fell to the ground in a tangled mess.

“I’m sorry, ma’am!” he said, offering his hand to help her up.

Sophie managed to sit up, rubbing her throbbing head, and politely declined his hand. “I’m fine.”

“Are you su—”

“I said I’m fine, Finley. I just need to get my bearings.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, but he hesitated for a moment. Sophie glared at him until he left and then clambered stiffly to her feet, gripping the wall for support.

The command center was packed by the time Sophie arrived. Her team and the Marines stood huddled around a monitor showing video footage from Camera 1, directly outside the blast doors. Standing in the morning sunlight was a child no older than five. He was gripping a filthy blanket and had lost a shoe.

“Open the doors, Alexia!” Sophie shouted.

“Whoa! Hold on a second there,” Timothy said. “We don’t know where he came from or how he got here. He could be infected!”

Holly raised her hand to cut him off. “He’s just a little boy, Timothy. I know you lack compassion, but do you have no heart at all?”

“I’m afraid Timothy might be right,” Overton said, straining to get a better look at the screen. “That kid didn’t just find his way up to the blast doors by himself. Well, it’s highly unlikely he did. What’s more likely is that these Organics are using him to draw us out.”