Millen wondered if they were comparing it with the antibodies from Halima and the other villager, as well as the samples he’d brought back from Elim and Dhamiria.

“As you know, we’ve been preparing for the prospect of an armed conflict. Right now, survivors and likely survivors are staging here in Atlanta and other cordons. Here in this room, each of you needs to decide which side you’re on. If you’re going to help us secure this city, or if you want to join the Citium and attempt to overthrow the government.”

For the first time, Millen noticed the Marines at the front and rear exits.

“Think hard. Your decision may cost you your life.”

Chapter 95

Chapter 95

On board the Red Cross plane, Desmond, William, Peyton, and Avery were debating where to land. At Aralsk-7, they’d had no choice: the airstrip was the only access to the island, and it was far enough away from the town and labs to be reasonably safe. But the single dirt runway in Australia was directly adjacent to the camp.

Their other options weren’t much more appealing, in Peyton’s opinion. Desmond wanted to land in a field, but was concerned that the struts supporting the landing gear might buckle, stranding them. Avery advocated landing on a road. They had consulted the map and identified several candidate sites, but William was wary: what if there were power lines, abandoned cars, mailboxes, and other items not on the satellite imagery?

Still, it seemed like the best option. They consulted the plane’s manual, discovered the width of the wheel track, and did the math: the wheels would fit on the roadway—just barely. They picked a location, did a flyover, and were satisfied the path was clear of obstacles.

Peyton buckled herself in and braced for the worst as her father lined up the plane and began descending. The wheels screeched on the pavement, and the entire plane vibrated as it slowed on the straight stretch of blacktop, the morning sun blazing through the windows. The back wheels veered into the dirt shoulder, but William quickly brought the plane back and slowed to a stop.

Avery and Desmond left to scout the camp and report back. From the plane’s doorway, Peyton watched them hike across the brown terrain, their body armor on, semi-automatic rifles slung across their shoulders. She didn’t like leaving Desmond alone with Avery—she still didn’t trust the woman.

As if sensing Peyton watching him, Desmond stopped and turned. A small smile crossed his lips when he saw her in the doorway.

“Mic check,” he said.

“Copy,” she replied. “Be careful.”

“Roger that.”

Peyton reminded them again to keep their distance from anyone who might not be infected.