Blinking to clear my vision, I looked behind me.

A solid wall of earth sealed the tunnel just paces from where I knelt. We’d barely escaped the impact zone.

Utter blackness. Even flaring, I could see nothing.

“Everyone okay?” I called out.

The boys sounded off. Even Coop gave a short bark.

“Keep moving,” I said. “It’s one-way now.”

We stumbled forward, totally focused on footing and breathing, refusing to consider the horrifying possibilities.

What if there was no way out? Would our pursuers be waiting when we emerged? What was the thud that followed the gunshots? What happened to Karsten?!!!Concentrate. Get out.

The tunnel forked.

“Which way?” Shelton’s voice carried from the left.

“I sense fresh air coming from the right,” Hi said. “I think I smell grass.”

I raised my nose. Sniffed.

Hi was right. New scents had joined the mix of dust and mildew and rotting wood. Grass and wet sand.

My heart pounded against my ribs.

I was about to speak when I heard movement, a bark, then, “Oof.”

“Coop votes to go right, too,” Hi said. “At least, I think that’s why he knocked me over.”

“Do it,” Ben said.

The darkness hid obstacles until they were just inches away. We picked our way along, tripping over rocks, beams, and a host of unidentifiable objects.

Triple doses of adrenaline pumped through me. My head felt too small for my brain. I reached out with my senses, probing for a way through the darkness.

Never shoul d’ve listened... knew the roof would cave... can’t breathe...!!!What was that?

“Shelton, did you say something?”

“No.” His voice was shaky.

Puzzled, I searched for the thread I’d lost.

No use. Gone.

It had sounded like Shelton. I attempted to refocus.!!!Balance. Breathe.

Ambush at the entrance... could have taken these bastards...

I shouldn’t be able to smell anything but dust... Grass? I’m a freak of nature ¬...

OhmyGod!

I was hearing the other Virals.

In my head.

No. Way.

I tried again. Couldn’t reconnect. Couldn’t reopen whatever had closed. I strained to hear their voices, came up empty. Nothing.!!!You’re losing it, Tor.

Focus. Feet. Lungs.

Bad smell... danger... rip, tear... save pack...

Coop! I was sure of it! He wanted to protect us.

I stumbled forward, grabbed the puppy, and hugged him to my chest.

Warm... mother-friend... shield...

As powerfully as I could, I willed a message from my brain to his.

I’ll protect you, little one. We’ll be safe. I promise.

Coop yipped and nuzzled my face. I kissed the top of his head.

“What was that?” Ben had stopped moving.

“Protect who?” Shelton asked.

“Tory, that was weird.” Hi. “Where are you? Are you talking to me?”

“I’m here,” I said.

Had everyone heard me? I floated a test message.

I’m here, too.

“Whoa!” Shelton and Hi.

“You’re in my head!” Ben sounded shocked. “Get out!”

I couldn’t believe it. They could hear me! The Virals could hear me!

Then the feeling passed.

I struggled to regain it. Useless, like trying to hold onto a dream.

I floated another message.

No link up. Damn.

“What did you just do?” Hi asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Do it again.”

“I can’t.”

I released Coop. He darted forward through the murk. From up ahead, I heard barking. We wove toward it like rats in a maze.

Minutes later, the darkness lifted ever so slightly. The promise of light drew us like a beacon.

Ben called out. “Ladder!”

We all rushed forward.

Above the ladder hung a square of night sky speckled with stars. A pale shaft of moonlight oozed through the opening.

A way out. I almost cried with joy.

Shelton tested, one, two, then shot up the rungs. Hi followed.

Slinging Coop over one shoulder, Ben went next. I was right on his heels, ready to catch the dog should Ben stumble.

The ladder ended in a bunker so small the five of us barely fit. Its window slit faced north, toward the harbor.

My flare was still burning.

I drank in the night air, senses blazing, terror slowly receding.

“Where are we?” Hi asked.

“Across Morris, on the Schooner Creek side.” Ben was scanning the terrain. “This must be one of the sand hills.”

We were perched high above the waterline, overlooking the northern tip of the island. Big pie-faced moon. With my canine vision, the landscape was lit up like high noon.

“Look!”

Shelton pointed northeast toward our clubhouse. Two hundred yards away, just off the shoreline, four men struggled to load a bundle onto a skiff.

“Jesus. Look at that bag.” Hi’s voice cracked.

The shape. The bulk. The way the men strained.

My front teeth clamped onto my lower lip.

As we watched, the skiff rose on a wave and the bundle lurched sideways. The men struggled to regain control. One corner of the wrapping slipped loose.

A bright yellow sneaker popped into view.

My breath caught in my throat.

Dr. Marcus Karsten.

The shots.

The dead weight hitting the floor.

No! It couldn’t be true.

Karsten was the one person who had understood. The one person who might’ve reversed the changes that had altered our bodies.

I almost cried in despair. Karsten’s death closed a door. Our last hope had been murdered.

But why? What threat did he pose? And to whom?

The men finally hauled their gruesome cargo onto the boat. An engine kicked to life. Our attackers put to sea.

We watched until the skiff disappeared over the horizon, our eyes glowing gold in the darkness.