“I’ve been thinking about that,” Millen said. “If we take enough samples from you and her, we should be fine.” He paused. “Or, there is another option.”

Elim raised his eyebrows.

“Come with us.”

Elim shook his head. “My place is here. Now more than ever. My country needs me.”

Millen was packed and ready when the call came on Sunday.

“Dr. Thomas, we’re on approach to the Mandera airport.”

“We’ll be there,” Millen said.

At the airport, he led the two young villagers into the private plane, then returned to the SUV, where Elim sat behind the wheel, Dhamiria in the passenger seat.

“Where will you go?” Millen asked.

“Wherever we’re needed,” Elim said. “We’ll head south and take it from there.”

“Good luck.”

“I hope your friends and colleagues are returned safely, Millen.”

“Me too.”

A few minutes later, the plane lifted off. Millen gazed out the window at the deserted airport. It had been bustling when he arrived last week. Now it was dead—like the charred remnants of a bomb test in the desert. He wondered what he’d find in America. If the news was any indication, a lot of people were infected, and their fate might be the same as that of the residents of Mandera. He couldn’t let that happen. He hoped he was bringing home the key to finding a treatment.

Chapter 56

Chapter 56

On Sunday morning in Atlanta, Elliott waited for the event he believed would change America forever. The news gave no clues of it. The people he called had heard nothing.

The first hints had leaked the day before across social media. All military personnel, including the National Guard, were called in to their nearest base or a designated rally point. Staff at hospitals, as well as police, fire, and EMT workers, were also called in.

Those without symptoms of the respiratory virus known as X1 were instructed to report first. Those who were sick were to arrive three hours later.

The first responders called and texted their family and friends to say that they were being deployed for an emergency preparedness drill and wouldn’t be home for several days. Some noted that they wouldn’t have phone or internet access during the drill.

Elliott had expected his phone to ring. He was not only a physician and an epidemiologist, but a rear admiral in the Public Health Service’s Commissioned Corps. He was also a CDC employee; or he had been. His employment situation since he had leaked information about Peyton’s abduction to the news hadn’t been made clear. He was certain that he should be on the critical personnel list; perhaps multiple lists. But the call never came. His name had been deleted.