Moon stepped into the elevator cab, and the doors slid shut with an audible ding at the end. Then shockingly, the elevator began to ascend. It moved almost as soon as Yorgey had pressed the ground floor button.

  Moon couldn’t believe it. Where the fuck was this elevator when they needed it the most—when his men were fighting tooth and nail on every nightmare-fueled level?

  As the elevator passed Level-5, the men could hear animalistic behaviors. The howling and guttural screams of an infected human being torn apart by wild animals caused them to grit their teeth. It sounded just like a pack of coyotes killing a deer. Then Moon recalled having let out the clean dogs and cats from their cages, and how they had immediately chased after Con. He felt they were getting their just dues, and it made him smile from ear to ear knowing that in the end, Con was being killed by the very animals this facility kept for experimentations.

  The elevator dinged at each floor but never stopped. It kept ascending toward the ground floor, where good men had fallen to the infected. Floor after floor, the elevator passed, and Moon took note—until it came to a final stop. He prayed it was indeed the ground level. He didn’t have the time or soul for anything else.

  The doors opened to a bloody wall and two dead bodies lying on what used to be a white marble floor.

  The men stepped out and felt a slight relief once they realized they were where they needed to be.

  Turning the corner, they could see dead Carriers, and the sunlight as they moved fast through the lobby, headed for the outside world.

  Within a few moments, they had pushed outside, stepping over the knee wall, and Yorgey immediately keyed his mic to call for help. “Dobbins, come in!”

  Static filled his ears as he found himself beginning to run and hop across concrete slabs stacked two stories high. His gear shifted about his body as Mark Moon followed close behind, but not as high up on the concrete, staying lower to have a different tactical view.

  “Go for Dobbins!” a voice radioed back.

  “Moon, I got ’em on the horn!”

  Moon gave a thumbs-up and ripped his breather off, then tossed it on top of a pile of dead Carriers, their bodies thick and bloated, each one killed with a head shot. Snipers! Moon thought with a grin as he scanned the area for any additional threats.

  Yorgey keyed his mic and spoke. “Dobbins, launch, launch, launch. Team 3 is on the run, in need of immediate evac!”

  “Dobbins copies, how many passengers?”

  The gravity of how many on his team were dead hit Yorgey like a ton of bricks. They had started the journey with twelve. He had helped Ryan Mahon count the men onto that first C-130, so the number had been etched into his memory like names of a memorial wall. Now, it was just two of them left. Less than twenty percent had survived, and it gutted his very being. Yorgey turned and quickly ripped his mask off, too, just in time to puke a clear bile across the blood-stained, broken slabs of concrete.

  The air slapped at his hair, pushing the smell of sulfuric death into his nostrils. He bent down and then took a knee as the gravity of loss continued to overwhelm him. Keying the mic, he replied, “Dobbins…two… I say again, we are two for transport.”

  “Team 3, I copy…” There was a noticeable pause before Dobbins command continued. “Head east toward Clifton Road. There’s a large parking lot. Pick up is two mikes away.”

  “We copy, Dobbins, two mikes!” Yorgey turned to Moon. “There’s a bird in the area. We’ve got to hustle up or get left the fuck behind. We have to get east past Building 23, near the outside road!”

  Moon lifted his rifle and took aim as he listened. After a quick exhale, he pulled the trigger and dropped a Carrier that had just came running from around the alleyway next to Building 18. “Let’s move!” he yelled out and took off running east.

  Yorgey fell in behind Moon, and they ran fast. At first, they moved across the slabs, but just as the rotor blades became audible in the distance, they slipped down and around larger chunks of debris, rifles up and ready, until they suddenly popped out into an open area.

  Tall and beautiful, green grass swayed in the wind as the men ran across it, leaving a trail behind them. In an almost unreal picturesque moment, the men saw two MH-6 Little Birds cross over the road; one lowered to land in the parking lot littered with abandoned cars.

  The second bird remained high in the sky, hovering over them, and Moon smiled, knowing it was his team snipers covering their movement.

  The first Little Bird landed in the center of the parking lot, nose facing them. All the men had to do was run and split the nose of the bird. One left and one right. Then clip in. That was it.

  They were so close, they could no longer hear the environment around them, which could have been deadly. But it didn’t matter. Within a few more yards, they had made it. Moon pushed left and Yorgey right of the bird. They both hopped on and clipped in just as the pilot lifted off, taking them to safety. It happened so quickly and smoothly, it was almost as if they had rehearsed it thousands of times before.

  As their metal steed took flight, it banked right, flying over the campus on its way back to base. Moon looked down, and the amount of people he saw running across the open ground they had just traversed was heart stopping. If not for the timely exfil, they would never have made it.

  Chapter 1

  A New Day

  Mark Moon

  Naval Air Station Key West

  Boca Chica Keys, Florida

  02 June 2025

  Four weeks after the CDC Atlanta Campus mission…

  The sun rose over the water as Moon took the morning to drink coffee by the eastern side of the air station’s shoreline. Sitting in the white sand, he sipped the warm black liquid and thought about the past couple of months. His mind ventured back to the last monster snook that broke his landing net, yet somehow, he was still able to get that fish in the boat.

  That day had been a fickle one. It was full of success and later failures. He not only had caught dinner for the week, but after his phone notification alerted him to the Protocol 9 recall, he not only lost out on eating the fish, but he hadn’t seen his home, his dog, or anything from that part of Florida in months. He sipped the liquid pick-me-up and asked God to take care of his dog Porsche and to safeguard the old man looking after her.

  Then his mind turned to the men he had lost, and his heart sank. The morning ocean breeze had been a gentle reminder of happier days—that eventually reminded him of some of the darkest days of his life.

  Shaking his head, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them to the sounds of crashing waves, and he tried to push his pain deep down inside. He didn’t have the luxury of dealing with it, so he pushed them aside for another day.

  “You got room for one more?” Director Will Yorgey asked as he stepped closer to Moon.

  Moon looked up at his friend. “It’s a public beach, man. Take a seat. Relax for a bit.”

  “It’s not really public,” Will replied in jest. “This base is on lockdown, so I’d say this beach is as private as they come.”

  “Fair enough. You got a good point,” Moon replied. His mind ached from the constant stress and sadness, yet there he was sitting on a beach trying to find peace in the beauty of the world that was yet to be destroyed. “Spit it out. Why you bothering me as I drink my morning joe?”

  “Well, spit it out,” Yorgey mocked him. “I know you’re pissed off, but you need to understand, Command simply can’t find Doctor Halbrook, and until they do, we sit our unhappy asses right here and wait.”

  “Will, have you ever done much saltwater fishing? Anything inshore, snook, reds? Ever eat fresh flounder?” Moon asked, then sipped his coffee as the waves crashed along the shoreline.

  “From time to time, but what’s that got to do with the price of tea in China?”

  Moon huffed a laugh. “Two months ago, I caught a twenty-eight-inch snook… She put up a great fight, making five runs before she finally tired out. I was able to land her and set my eyes on that buttery meat for the next week. That was until we were recalled.”

  “So you’re pissed about that fish?” Yorgey asked.

  “No. I know the old man next door ate it, but what I was doing before you interrupted was simple. I was sitting here reflecting on the before⁠—”

  “Before?” Yorgey questioned. He was following along but wanted to make sure they were on the same page.

  “Yeah, the before. As in, before the world took a shit. The before.”

  “I get it,” Yorgey replied. “I think back on the good days, too.”

  “It’s not the good days, but the before days. The days of knowing the next day would come. The days of knowing food would be in the fridge, on the table, or at a restaurant, for Christ’s sake. Now, every day is a struggling crap shoot. So you think I’m sitting here pissed about what’s left of our government not being able to find the last virologist that can save our species as a whole, but all I’m thinking about is if we will be able to go back to the before.”

  Yorgey sighed. “You know the answer to that. Did you ever wonder what happened to the kids in Iraq as we left? That’s what we are experiencing now. The aftermath of the most catastrophic event in our lifetimes. It’s mentally daunting, and I feel it, too.”

  Moon looked to his friend with gentle but weary eyes. “We all have an expiration date, and I don’t care when mine comes, but watching every good man around me die has taken its toll. I’m tired, like I’ve never been before.” He sipped his coffee. “But don’t mistake this moment of reflection for weakness. Just understand that we need to find that doctor, so the remaining population has a chance. That’s all.”

  “I get it, and it’s okay to sit here and think back on the times we had with our friends. That’s healthy. That’s what will bring a smile to your face,” Yorgey explained.

  “I still see the look on Milliken’s face as he tossed me back the access card and let the doors shut behind him… I heard the gunfire on the other side of the door, and then as it silenced, I knew he was gone. It’s that look that will haunt me for the rest of my days, Will.”

  Will Yorgey took a deep breath and forced a half smile. “Oh, Milly from Philly…he was a chatty Cathy, for sure, but damn it, Mark, he was a great man. I can only imagine that look, but you know he would be the first to tell you to get the fuck up and move on with your life. We both know Milly didn’t give two shits about dying if it meant saving lives. And that’s exactly what he did. He gave his life so you could live, and knowing him like we all did, he didn’t have a second thought about it. He made the decision. And to repay him for that sacrifice, all you have to do is live yet another day. Wake up tomorrow and do it again. Then the next day and the next. That’s all he would want. Just one more day.”

  Moon smiled. A tear rolled from the corner of his right eye. He nodded and sipped his coffee, internally agreeing with every word that Yorgey spoke.

  Slowly, the waves continued crashing the shoreline with a gentle rolling touch, and the breeze moved across the soft white sand as Mark Moon stared out in thought. Deep within his DNA, he had been born a fixer. Whenever there was a problem, he would try his damnedest to solve it. But this was different. This was a national issue he had almost zero control over. Up until Doctor Carter had been killed, he was in control and had an avenue to solve the issue. But now, even though he held all the pieces to the proverbial puzzle, without Doctor Halbrook, he was as useless as a dead man. But Director Yorgey was right in what he said. Just one more day may bring them the answers. Just one more day may change the world. He would know, after just one more day.

  “Gentlemen, I hate to bother you on this beautiful morning,” a younger voice called from behind them. “But can you tell me where I can find Agent Mark Moon?”

  Moon smirked, thinking to himself that he just wanted to enjoy his morning coffee, but somehow, people seemed to find him. “That’s me, sir. How can I help you?” Then he had a thought about breakfast and hoped that whatever the young sailor was about to say wouldn’t ruin his breakfast.

  “Glad I finally found you, sir. You’re not an easy man to find,” the young sailor replied. “Captain Thompson asked me to locate you.”

  “Okay, son, you’ve found me. Am I in trouble or what?” Moon replied with a jovial wink, then downed the last little bit of his warm coffee.

  “Sir, I couldn’t presume to know. I was just told to go find you and politely ask you to accompany me back to Command.”

  “How about the three of us go grab some chow first, then we can head on over to wherever it is you need me to go? Sound good to you, son?” Moon asked as he stood and brushed the sand off his backside.

  The young sailor looked back and forth between Moon and Yorgey with a bewildered gaze as the ocean breeze slapped at his concerned face.

  Moon could see the stress in the young man’s eyes. “Don’t worry, we eat quick,” he said and patted him on the shoulder as he stepped passed him. “Chow it is! I’m starving!”

  The young sailor said nothing but simply followed after both Yorgey and Moon as they stepped toward the path that would eventually lead to the main chow hall.

  Chapter 2

  Intel

  Mark Moon

  Naval Air Station Key West

  Boca Chica Keys, Florida

  02 June 2025

  Both Moon and Yorgey held fresh cups of coffee in their hands, Moon with two cups, while Yorgey knocked on the black door with a placard attached to the wall to the left of the door that read: Captain Colin A. Thompson, Commanding Officer, Naval Air Station, Key West.

  At first, they didn’t hear the reply, so Yorgey knocked again, this time a bit louder, while trying not to spill his coffee.

  “I said come in, damn it!” a man’s voice yelled.

  Yorgey turned the knob and walked in, stepping to the right, allowing Moon to move ahead and take over.

  Moon walked directly to the captain’s desk and slid him over his spare cup of coffee. “You asked to see me, sir?”

  “I sure did.” Captain Thompson looked to the cup of coffee and smiled as he picked it up and sipped. “Thank you for this.”

  “My pleasure, Captain. But not to beat around the bush. It’s been a few days, I can only presume you called for me because⁠—”

  “We have a fix on your doctor. But there’s more than just that,” Captain Thompson replied. “Have a seat. You brought Director Yorgey along with you, so that will save me time and the trouble of finding him. Thanks for that, too.” He gestured for the young sailor to leave and for Yorgey to also have a seat.

  “I have info on the doctor and need to get you up to speed on the collapse of the nation. So…where would you like to begin?” Captain Thompson asked.

  “Let’s start with the doctor, that way, if he’s dead, then the rest is just a waste of time,” Moon replied.

  Yorgey snickered.

  “Dualy noted.” Captain Thompson swigged his warm morning coffee. “Well, it wasn’t easy. But we found Doctor Halbrook. As you know, we sent a team to his lab in Maryland, but there was no sign of him. We all know he was a tertiary plan for the cure, working parallel with Doctor Carter, but in the shadows. Understandably so. But he went dark, communications ceased, and we were lost at where to find him. Honestly, we thought maybe the Ares Plague had found him.”

  “So where is he, sir?” Moon asked, leaning forward in his seat, intently focused on every word the captain spoke.

  “Well, we weren’t far off. In fact, he was at home. Just not the home we knew of. He’s in Maryland, in a bunker that even our records didn’t indicate he owned—that strange man was inside one underneath his house.”

  “No shit?” Moon asked rhetorically. “Smart man. I’m beginning to believe the ones at the end who survive will be the people or groups of people who went underground and waited out the storm.”

  “You’re probably not wrong, but once they do decide to come out, they’ll still have Carriers to deal with. I have no doubt in that. Unless they have enough supplies to last a few years, they will inevitably have to fight.” Captain Thompson drank his warm coffee and looked at papers on his desk. “But lucky for him, we have you and Director Yorgey.”

  “Come again, sir?” Moon was suddenly lost. “I don’t understand.”

  “Well, we asked him to come out, and he refused. Once we explained the situation, he ensured us that he had everything underground to build a cure, if we provided him with the sample and your blood. Strange enough, the wacko built out a lab in his bunker—minus the viruses. So I spoke with the powers that be and, well, we have the sample from Doctor Carter’s lab and a few liters of your blood on ice here, but instead of sending those with a squad to deliver said items, we want you and Yorgey to take them in person while leaving behind the blood we have on ice. Those units of blood will become a fallback plan if anything bad happens.”

  Moon said nothing but rubbed his freshly shaven chin.

  Yorgey laughed. “You want us to go to Maryland, after all?”

  “We do, Director.” Captain Thompson drank his coffee, then wiped his mouth. “It’s the most logical and selfless thing you men can do for your grateful country.”

  “Grateful?” Moon asked. His eyes cut through the captain like a knife. “That’s a poor word choice, sir. Grateful, we are, there’s no doubt. We are grateful for being here and having served out great nation, but when you put the shoe on the other foot—so to speak, sir—we have never felt that any entity was ever grateful for our services, sir.”

  “Guys, I have no doubt you feel⁠—”

  “Feel, sir?” Moon was becoming pissed. How would a base captain presume to know how he felt after losing nearly every man on his team?

  “Very poor choice of words, and I do apologize, but,” he slid a piece of paper across the table with a presidential seal prominently standing out in the center of the letterhead, “the President of the United States, on his behalf, explains in writing how grateful the nation is for all you have done.”