"Marcus?" Elias called out, his voice barely louder than a whisper, swallowed by the crashing of the waves against the rocks below.
The truck bounced violently as Elias turned off the main road onto the dirt path leading to the ruins of the Aden cannery. He killed the lights a quarter-mile out, coasting the rest of the way in the dark, guided only by the faint, pale glow of the moon breaking through the mist. Aden Aden Aden
"Aden" was not a person. It was an old fishing outpost on the jagged northern coast, abandoned fifteen years ago after the Great Surge. It was also the codename for a contingency they all swore they would never have to use. "Marcus
The call came at three in the morning, vibrating hard enough against the wooden nightstand to wake the heavy sleeper beside him. Elias didn’t fumble. His hand clamped over the phone instantly, sliding the green icon before the second ring could cut through the silence of the dark bedroom. He didn't say hello. He waited. "Aden" was not a person
"I found it, Elias," Marcus breathed, laughing a breathless, manic laugh. "What we were looking for back at the agency. The reason Silas disappeared. It wasn't an accident. They are clearing the board."