“Hey buddy, what’s your name?” Overton asked, slowly stepping out from behind the safety of the metal boxes. He had never been good with kids, and barely even knew his own boys. They both lived in Arkansas with his ex-wife. He thought of them briefly, wondering if they had survived the invasion, but he quickly put the thought aside. He had a task to perform, and if he had learned one thing in his lengthy military service, it was to never let outside distractions mess with him during a mission.

“It’s okay, buddy, we aren’t going to hurt you,” Overton entreated. “Do you think you can come over here?”

Sophie watched from the train, furious with herself for allowing Overton to lure the child inside the facility. She should have known the rough man would just scare him off. He had the voice of a lifetime smoker and the face of a hardened prisoner. Not exactly the type of guy you’d want to watch your kids.

She started to approach but hesitated. Leaving the safety of the train would dramatically shorten their escape window. But the kid wasn’t budging, and judging by the look of terror streaked across the boy’s face, Overton wasn’t making any progress on convincing him to move.

Sophie jumped out of the train and onto the concrete platform, slowly approaching the boy. “It’s okay; no one’s going to hurt you,” she said, in the most reassuring voice she could manage.

The child took a step forward and then halted, hesitating as he saw Finley and Bouma with their rifles. Sophie craned her head and widened her eyes, whispering the words “Back off” into her headset. Both Marines reluctantly lowered their weapons and retreated into the shadows.

“What’s your name?” Sophie asked, turning again to the child. “My name’s Sophie, and this is where I work. It’s a safe place. These Marines are here to protect us,” she said motioning toward Overton and his men, who all faked smiles.

The boy’s eyes darted nervously from face to face, his mouth quivering as if he wanted to speak, but nothing came out. Sophie took another step forward, prompting the child to take a step back. He squeezed his filthy blanket tighter against his chest.

Sophie knew she was running out of time. The longer the door was open, the more likely the Organics would find them . . . if they hadn’t already. Thinking of the name Dr. Hoffman had given the aliens made the events of the week feel terribly real. Her team had gone from working on the most important mission in human history to hiding from an invading extraterrestrial race, one she hadn’t even had time to study. And then there was Saafi, clinging to life because of her rash decision to leave the Biosphere.

“Where’s my daddy?” the boy suddenly said, shocking Sophie from her thoughts of self-pity.