the golf-ball-sized lump in his throat and slowed down. “My friend’s name is Trina. Blond hair, my age. There was another woman and a girl. Do you know anything about them?”
The man lowered his gaze to the floor again and heaved a sigh. “So many questions.”
Mark was so frustrated that he had to compose himself for a second. He took a deep breath and walked over to sit down on the cot facing the raspy-voiced stranger. Maybe the old man was dotty. Bombarding him with questions probably wasn’t the smartest approach. Mark looked up to see that Alec was a little astonished at his outburst, but then he shook his head and came over to join Mark on the cot. Alec placed the workpad on the floor so that its glow shone up and gave everyone that slightly monstrous look you get when you place a flashlight under your chin.
“What can you tell us?” Alec asked in one of his gentler tones. He’d obviously reached the same conclusion as Mark—this guy was on edge and needed to be handled with care. “What’s happened here? All the lights are out, no one’s around. Where is everybody?”
The man merely groaned in response, then covered his face with both hands.
Alec and Mark exchanged a look.
“Let me try again,” Mark said. He leaned forward, inching to the edge of the cot and putting his forearms on his knees. “Hey, man … what’s your name?”
The stranger dropped his hands, and even in the dim light Mark could see that his eyes were moist with tears. “My name? You want to know my name?”
“Yeah. I want to know your name. Our lives are just as crappy as yours, I promise. I’m Mark and this is my friend, Alec. You can trust us.”
The man made a scoffing sound, then had a short bout of racking coughs. Finally he said, “The name’s Anton. Not that it matters.”
Mark was afraid to continue. This man could hold so many answers to so many questions, and he didn’t want to screw it up. “Listen … we came from one of the settlements. Three of our friends were taken in the canyon above this place. And our village was attacked by someone from here, we think. We just want to … understand what’s going on. And get our friends back. That’s it.”
He sensed Alec about to say something and shot him a glare to shut up. “Is there anything you can tell us? Like … what is this place? What’s happening out there with the Bergs and the darts and the virus? What happened here? Anything you got.” A heavy weariness was starting to weigh on him, but he forced himself to focus on the man across from him, hoping for answers.
Anton took a few low, deep breaths and a tear trickled out of his right eye. “We chose a settlement two months ago,” he finally said. “As a test. Not that the disastrous results changed the overall plan in the end. But the girl changed it for me. So many dead, and it was the one who lived who made me realize what a horrible thing we’d done. Like I said, I didn’t want them to give her back to her people today. That’s when I was truly done. Officially done.”
Deedee, Mark realized. It had to be Deedee. But what about Trina and Lana? “Tell us what happened,” he urged. He felt guiltier with every passing second that they weren’t actively searching for their friends, but they needed information or they might never find them. “From the beginning.”
Anton began to speak in a somewhat distant tone. “The Post-Flares Coalition in Alaska wanted something that spread fast, killed fast. A virus that some monsters had developed back in the good old days before the sun flares burned it all out. They say it shuts down the mind. Instant comas, they said, rendering the bodies useless but causing massive hemorrhaging that would spread it to those nearby. Transmission is by blood, but it’s also airborne when the conditions are right. A good way to kill off the settlements that are forced to live in close quarters.”
The man’s words spilled out of him without a hitch or a change in volume. Mark’s mind was growing numb from exhaustion, and he found it hard to follow the details. He knew that what he was hearing was important, but it still wasn’t fitting together. How long had he been awake now? Twenty-four hours? Thirty-six? Forty-eight?
“—before they