On his street, he bounded off the bus and dashed inside his home, ignoring his neighbors calling his name, yelling questions about the outbreak.

The house was quiet. The TV wasn’t even on. He searched the first floor.

Empty.

The second.

Empty.

He pounded down the unpainted wooden stairs to the basement. Stopping in the damp space, he searched for the light. He clicked it on.

Ryan, Sam, and Adam were seated on an old couch that Elliott had abandoned in the basement years ago. Adam was asleep in his mother’s lap.

Ryan looked up. “Dad.”

“Change of plans,” Elliott said, panting.

“What?”

“You need to get on the bus when it comes.”

“Why? What happened—”

“They have your mother. In the Georgia Dome. Find her. Get her out of there.”

Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Desmond had lost all sense of time. The only indicator of its passing was the growing trash pile that surrounded the three stooges—and even that was taken away when a janitor wheeled a cart in and cleaned the mess up.

He maintained his exercise routine, pushing himself for more repetitions each time, cycling the exercises, careful not to overexert himself. His ribs still ached, but he was learning his limits and tender points. He was preparing. It was all he could do.

Any break in the routine caught Desmond’s attention. So when the tall blonde strode into the corridor beyond the cell again, he stopped in mid-pushup, turned, and watched.

She stood before the three slobs, questioning them. The words that flowed from her mouth seemed to assault them like a swarm of bees. They shook their heads, threw up their hands, pointed at the screen, and argued back. Soon she was pointing too. Was she their boss? A messenger from their boss (Conner, Desmond presumed)?

Before she left, the blonde turned to him, for the briefest of moments, with a look that carried some meaning he couldn’t read, like a language he had once learned but had forgotten.

And just as quickly, she was gone.

Avery stood in Conner’s stateroom giving a report. He held his hand up, stopping her.

“Just tell me if they can make it happen.”

“They say it’s like a needle in a haystack.”

“What about the apps being developed by the companies Des invested in?”

“They’ve tried them. If it’s there, it’s in some kind of back door. They say the memories could be tied to a location or released at a certain time. Hacking it might not even work if the release is hardwired.”

Conner looked up at the ceiling.

“What do you want to do?” she asked.

“We’re running out of time. We have to try something new. Drastic.”

“Such as?”

“Such as, I’ll let you know, Avery.”

She averted her eyes. More quietly, she said, “Dr. Shaw is infected.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“With the Mandera strain—not the precursor flu virus.”