This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2023 by JK Franks

  eBook 979-8-9884788-2-9

  Paperback 979-8-9884788-3-6

  Hardback 979-8-9884788-4-3

  Published by JK Franks Media LLC, 2023

  Editor: Debra Riggle

  Email the author at author@jkfranks.com

  Friend him on Facebook at facebook.com/groups/JKFranks

  Visit the author’s website at www.jkfranks.com

  All rights reserved. With the exception of excerpts for review purposes, no part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system.

  First Edition

  For Kason

  May your journey be as genuine as your spirit.

  Prologue

  Carla woke to the blaring of her alarm, the shrill beeps cutting through the quiet morning air. With a groan, she rolled over and slapped the clock into silence, squinting against the sunlight filtering in through the blinds.

  One day closer to the all-important summer break, she thought bitterly, slowly pushing herself upright. The sheets fell away, revealing her lithe, toned frame, sculpted from years of early morning jogs and fitness classes after school. She stretched her arms overhead before swinging her legs off the bed, feet landing on the cool hardwood floor.

  The house was mostly quiet, her grandmother already up and puttering around downstairs no doubt. Carla could smell something sizzling in the pan, the aroma of chorizo and egg wafting up from the kitchen. Her stomach rumbled, but she ignored it, padding to the bathroom to begin her daily ritual.

  She avoided her reflection as she turned on the shower, not wanting to see the dark circles under her eyes or the stress lines etched into her forehead. The past few years had taken their toll, and she felt older than her 25 years.

  Steam soon filled the small space, fogging the mirror and windows. Carla stepped under the hot spray, letting the water sluice over her body, washing away the lingering grogginess. She massaged shampoo into her long dark hair, fingers working against her scalp, before rinsing and applying conditioner.

  Clean and refreshed, she shut off the water and toweled off. After moisturizing her face, she ran a comb through her wet locks and pinned half of it up. Simple, no fuss. Just like every other morning.

  She dressed quickly in slim black pants, a patterned blouse and low heels. A swipe of mascara and lip balm finished the look. Grabbing her messenger bag, she headed downstairs.

  "Buenos dias, mija," her grandmother greeted as Carla entered the cozy kitchen. The older woman stood at the stove, spatula in hand, gray hair swept back in a neat bun.

  "Morning, Abuela," Carla replied, kissing her grandmother's wrinkled cheek before taking a seat at the small dining table. A plate of steaming fried eggs, chorizo and tortillas awaited her, along with a cup of dark coffee.

  "Eat up. You need your strength for those kids today," her grandmother said, joining her at the table. Carla sighed but didn't argue, tucking into the delicious homemade meal. She would need all the energy she could get to face another day of rowdy teenagers and administrative headaches. It was good to see her grandmother so spry and alert today. So many days, that was not the case.

  The morning sun streamed in through the windows as they ate in companionable silence. In the distance, the sounds of a waking city could be heard - cars honking, sirens wailing, early commuters bustling to work.

  Just another manic Wednesday morning in vibrant, diverse San Antonio. But to Carla, it felt like just another day stuck in the mundane grind, longing for something more. She loved her job, but the 'more' she wanted was closer than she wanted to think about. Time for herself, time for a real romantic commitment, time for a life.

  James Park drummed his fingers impatiently on the sleek glass conference table, eyes glued to the presentation screen at the front of the room. The young tech entrepreneur could barely contain his excitement as he waited for his team to begin. This was the moment they'd been working towards for months - the unveiling of their revolutionary new AI assistant, VIRI.

  "Alright everyone, let's get started," said Nina, the lead developer. She clicked a button, bringing up the VIRI interface on the screen. Sleek, minimalist, and designed for seamless integration across devices and platforms. Murmurs of approval rose from the assembled programmers, designers, and business strategists. Despite all the cyber-attacks and data hacks of the recent weeks, investors were eager to get this into the already crowded marketplace.

  James grinned, sitting up straighter. "VIRI is more than just another virtual assistant. She represents the next generation of artificial intelligence - capable of all the normal stuff and playing your favorite songs, and holovids but holding natural conversations, hyper-synthesized empathy, providing emotional support, and truly understanding her users' needs."

  Across the sprawling city, Major Sarah Collins strode through the grounds of Lackland Joint StarBase, her polished boots striking the pavement in a sharp staccato. Her eyes were hidden behind dark aviator shades, expression unreadable. It was just another day of overseeing training exercises and inspections, all part of the daily routine at one of the largest military facilities in the United States.

  She passed the base hospital, where medics practiced emergency drills. Inside the expansive motor pool, mechanics serviced the latest armored vehicles, getting them ready for exercises out in the training areas. Everywhere she looked, soldiers went about their duties with crisp efficiency, maintaining the base's constant readiness for action.

  For Sarah, this was business as usual. She had long ago grown accustomed to the regimented military lifestyle. Out in the civilian world, life went on in its chaotic, messy way. Here on base, everything was dialed in - orderly, controlled, and predictable. She preferred it that way.

  Carla gazed out at the sea of bored faces in her classroom, stifling a yawn of her own. The Wednesday morning lethargy was in full effect, with most of her students slouched in their seats, eyes glazed as she lectured about postmodernism.

  A few kids in the back row were openly scrolling on their phones instead of taking notes. Carla sighed but didn't have the energy to call them out. Let them fail the quiz on Friday, she thought tiredly.

  However, she noticed a sudden shift in their behavior when more and more kids began to check their SmarComms. Even the back row of slackers sat up straighter, seemingly captivated by whatever was on their screens.

  "Okay guys, phones away," Carla said halfheartedly. But her words fell on deaf ears. Her students were engrossed by whatever they were reading, their posture tense with alarm. One girl gasped aloud, her hand flying to her mouth.

  Unease trickled down Carla's spine. This was no ordinary social media distraction. She strode over to the nearest student. "Diego, let me see that." Before he could react, she plucked the phone from his hand.

  "Hey!" he protested, but she was already scanning the news alert on the screen. Her blood ran cold.

  'Nationwide systems failure - power grids, internet down, emergency services overwhelmed...'

  At that moment, the lights flickered overhead before shutting off completely, plunging the classroom into darkness. Screams rang out from Carla's students. Dread congealed in her gut. This was no ordinary Monday.

  Across town, the glass-walled conference room fell silent as the presentation screen suddenly went black. James frowned, rising from his seat. "What's going on?"

  The lead developer, Nina shook her head. "I don't know, the power didn't go out, it's just the screen-"

  A shrill tone sounded from the speakers, followed by a robotic female voice: "Emergency alert system activated. National systems failure is imminent. Seek shelter immediately."

  The team looked around in bewilderment as the message repeated. James strode to the wall panel and pressed the intercom button. "Security, what the hell is this? Some kind of drill?"

  Static answered him. At that moment, the floor-to-ceiling windows went opaque white, blocking all outside light. James felt the first icy tendrils of fear.

  On the sprawling military base, Major Collins answered her ringing Milcrypt Comm, brow furrowed. "Collins here."

  The voice on the other end was terse. "Major, we need you in the command center now."

  "What's happened? Is it Stetson?”

  "Just get here ASAP. No time to explain." The line went dead.

  Sarah felt her pulse kick up a notch. An emergency summons to command was never good news. She broke into a jog, aviators glinting as she raced across the grounds. All around her, klaxons began to wail, red lights flashing atop the buildings. Sarah's mouth went dry. This was no drill. Something big was going down.

  The clear blue sky over San Antonio was marred by the sudden appearance of white vapor trails arching high overhead. Major Sarah Collins paused mid-stride on the sidewalk, a chill running down her spine as she gazed upward. The trails were too precise, too orderly to be from commercial air traffic. Her military instincts screamed that these were missiles or aircraft on attack vectors.

  All around the base, soldiers halted their duties, shading their eyes against the sun as they stared at the crisscrossing contrails. A heaviness settled over the city, civilians and soldiers alike gripped by a sense of dread. They all seemed to
realize at once - this was no drill.

  The first distant explosion came several minutes later, a rumbling tremor that Sarah felt in her bones even from miles away. Car alarms wailed as the shockwave rolled through the streets. Sarah broke into a run toward the command center, boots pounding on pavement. She tore off her aviators to see better, just as more trails were scorched across the sky by some new wave of unknown attackers.

  When Sarah skidded into the command center, she found officers huddled around monitors, faces drawn. "Talk to me," she barked.

  A lieutenant turned to her, expression grim. "Multiple strikes reported near Dallas and Austin. We're still assessing, but it looks like a mix of high-altitude nuclear detonations and lower-level EMP weapons and possible orbital bombardment."

  Sarah's gut twisted. She strode to the monitors, gaze fixed on the first grainy images filtering in. Billowing, ominous mushroom clouds rose on the horizon, towering into the stratosphere.

  "My god," someone whispered. The entire command center watched in horrified silence.

  Outside, the city descended into chaos. Anything electronic flickered and went dark as the EMP wave rolled through. Self-driving autocars coasted to a stop, their systems fried. A nurse on her way to work heard the distant screech of tires and crunch of composites as vehicle collisions began piling up. Here and there, plumes of oily black smoke marked where autocars had burst into flame, their massive batteries overheating. The screams of passengers stuck inside tore at her instinct to save them. There was nothing she nor anyone could do at that moment.

  In an instant, San Antonio's technological infrastructure was reduced to so much silicon and plastic scrap. The true scale of the sophisticated, coordinated attack was just starting to sink in. Sarah straightened her shoulders, expression hardening. She began issuing rapid-fire orders, marshaling her forces. The city would need the base's help to have any chance at weathering this crisis. For now, it was all she could do - cling to duty while their entire world crumbled around them.

  Carla's breath caught in her throat as the classroom shuddered from the force of the distant explosion. She steadied herself against a desk, her gaze locking with Joshua's coming into her class suddenly. His usually steady smile and warm green eyes were wide with alarm, face drained of color. In that shared look, she saw the confirmation of her own fears - this was no accident.

  The students huddled together, sobbing and clinging to each other. Carla longed to run to her family, to make sure her grandmother and sister were safe. But she knew her duty was here now, to stay strong for the terrified kids under her care.

  "It's going to be okay," she said in a voice that sounded more confident than she felt. "We need to stay put and remain calm."

  On the other side of the city, James stared uncomprehendingly out the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Apex Tower's top floor. Below him, the sleek skyline had erupted into chaos. Plumes of black smoke billowed up between the glittering buildings. The streets were clogged with crashed autocars, tiny figures darting through the wreckage.

  He watched a rooftop observation deck shear off a neighboring tower, tumbling and exploding onto the street hundreds of feet below. The sound reached him seconds later, a muted whump. His state-of-the-art office, once the envy of the city, had become an inescapable prison. Without power, the doors and elevators were useless metal cages. All he could do was look on helplessly as the city fell apart before his eyes.

  Deep in the bunker of the military command center, Major Collins assessed the crisis with a sinking heart. Somehow, their impregnable defenses had been penetrated by a yet unknown enemy. The coordinated attacks clearly targeted their infrastructure with ruthless precision. She rattled off orders, directing her forces to render aid and impose order, even as fresh reports filtered in of new explosions across the region.

  A deep rumble resonated through the bunker, accompanied by the shriek of tearing metal. Dust and debris rained down as the ceiling split open. Collins dove for cover an instant before a massive chunk of polycrete crashed down, crushing the command console. Sharp pain lanced through her torso, and she looked down to see a twisted piece of rebar impaling her side, pinning her to the floor. Blood bubbled up into her mouth as she gasped for breath. All around her, cries of pain and alarm sounded, but they grew muted as her vision darkened. The last thing she saw was the rubble and ruin of the shattered command center. She had failed, in the end, to defend her city.

  Carla watched the last of her students shuffle into the cramped emergency bunker, there faces etched with fear and confusion. The small underground shelter was meant to house only a fraction of the school's population, but it was the best they could do on such short notice.

  With the city in chaos after the attacks, the principal had made the call to move everyone into the bunkers and wait things out. Now Carla stood at the heavy steel door, her heart aching as she took in the crowded, miserable faces looking back at her. The shelter was hot, stuffy, and reeked of unwashed bodies and anxiety. She wanted nothing more than to stay and comfort her students through this ordeal.

  But the principal, Mr. Kendrick, expression behind his glasses was grave. "I'm afraid we don't have room for any additional people. All non-essential personnel need to shelter in place or head to your homes if you live nearby."

  Carla opened her mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes brooked no argument. She swallowed hard and nodded. Turning back to the students, she offered an encouraging smile that felt more like a grimace.

  "You guys hang in there. Help each other out - share what supplies you have. I know you'll get through this." Her voice caught on the last word, and she saw tears shimmering in many of their eyes. With a final farewell wave, she stepped back and let the heavy door swing shut with an ominous clang. The light from within dimmed to a thin sliver, then winked out entirely, plunging the hallway into darkness.

  Carla stood numbly, listening to the faint sounds of crying and praying emanating from within. She blinked back hot tears of her own. Leaving them went against every protective instinct she had. But she was no use to them in here.

  Squaring her shoulders, Carla turned and strode away down the dark hall, her heels echoing hollowly. She emerged into smoky daylight, the sky overhead bruised and angry. The city still smoldered from the attacks, and sirens wailed in the distance. Her neighborhood, her family, needed her now. With a final glance back at the school that had been her second home, Carla set off alone into the ruins of the only world she knew.

  Carla stumbled through the darkened streets, the wail of sirens and screech of crumpling metal assaulting her ears. All around her, people ran screaming as explosions rocked the city. Billowing smoke choked the sky, flames licking up the sides of buildings. The air reeked of scorched composites and ozone. Nothing was recognizable, it as if ancient ruins had suddenly replaced the modern city.

  The comms networks had gone down minutes after the first strikes. Now she was cut off, with no way to reach her family. An autocar lay overturned and burning nearby, its passenger compartment crushed. Carla averted her eyes from the charred bodies inside.

  Another bone-rattling blast went off blocks away, raining pulverized debris across the avenue. Carla threw herself against a building, concrete shards pelting the sidewalk around her. The structure overhead groaned alarmingly. Cracks spider-webbed across the facade.

  Sirens wailed, then cut off abruptly as another EMP surge fried their circuits. The power grid was down, traffic signals dead. Vehicles slammed into intersections, unable to stop. Each collision added to the cacophony of shrieking metal.

  Carla pressed on through the smoke and chaos. She passed an elementary school, its windows blown out by the blast waves. Bloodied children staggered about dazedly, crying for parents who would never come. The sight tore at Carla's heart, but she needed to get home.

  Ahead, an entire city block was engulfed, firestorm devouring all in its path. The flames leapt hungrily from building to building, as if possessed of a malevolent will. An apartment complex collapsed in a billowing cloud of ash and embers.

  Carla shielded her face from the searing heat. All she could do was keep moving. She had to get to her own street. The city was coming apart all around her, civilization unraveling thread by thread. But she would not give in to despair. Not yet. She quickened her pace, jaw set with determination. They would survive this, together. She had to believe that.