LOGINThe late morning sun streamed through the curtains and fell across Natasha’s face. She stirred, then jolted awake. For a moment, she did not move. Her eyes scanned the room slowly, trying to make sense of where she was. The bed, the walls, and the familiar scent of her room.
She frowned. The last thing she remembered was collapsing in the bathroom. She had locked the door. She was certain of that. So how did she end up here? Natasha sat up carefully. Her head throbbed almost immediately, and a wave of dizziness followed. “Ah…” she let out a low sound as she pressed her fingers against her temple. The fever was still there. Not as strong as before, but it had not left her. She swung her legs off the bed and stood up, though her balance wavered slightly. She waited until the dizziness passed before walking toward the bathroom. The mirror reflected a version of her she barely recognized. Her eyes were red. Her skin looked pale. Her short hair was messy, falling out of place. She stared at herself for a few seconds, then she turned on the shower. The warm water helped, not completely, but enough. By the time she stepped out, the worst of the fever had eased. Her body still felt weak, but her mind was clearer. She dressed quickly in a brown tank top and a black combat pants. The kitchen was empty when she reached it. No laughter, no clatter of plates, no Martha’s sharp voice. She made herself a quick breakfast — toast with a little jam and a cup of strong tea. She ate alone in silence, then stepped outside into the large compound. The compound was alive with activity. Men moved between buildings, carrying supplies. Some repaired broken structures. Others stood guard at their posts. A few greeted her as she passed. “Doctor.” “Morning.” She nodded in response but did not stop. Her focus was already ahead. The moment she stepped into the clinic, she froze. Josh sat on one of the beds. In his arms was Evelyn. She clung to him tightly, her body pressed against his chest as if she needed his warmth to stay steady. She wore a thin nightdress that was clearly not meant for public spaces. Josh held her carefully, his arms wrapped around her as though she might break if he let go. His expression was full of concern. Beside them stood Martha, her arms folded, her face tense. The sight struck Natasha harder than she expected. “What happened?” she asked. Her voice was quieter than usual. The weakness from her fever still lingered. Martha turned immediately. “Evelyn has been shivering since morning,” she said. “She is not like you, Natasha. She does not have your kind of endurance.” Natasha ignored the tone. She stepped forward and reached for Evelyn’s wrist. Her fingers rested against her pulse. Evelyn let out a soft sound and leaned further into Josh, pressing her face against his neck. Josh tightened his hold on her instantly. “Be gentle, Nat,” he said. “She is scared.” Natasha did not respond. She reached for the thermometer and checked Evelyn’s temperature. A few seconds passed—Then she looked up. “She does not have a fever,” Natasha said calmly. “She needs rest. That is all.” Martha’s expression hardened. “How can you say that so easily? Look at her. She is trembling. Not everyone is built like you.” Natasha inhaled slowly. “I also have a fever,” she said. “And I am still standing here. Besides, Evelyn is also a doctor, why are you making an issue out of this?” Josh did not reply. He didn't look at Natasha either. He just spoke. “You will be fine,” he said. “You always are. I took care of you last night. Now focus on Evelyn. As you can see, she needs help.” Natasha stared at him, and something inside her shifted. Martha stepped closer to Evelyn and gently ran her fingers through her hair. Her expression softened in a way Natasha had never seen directed at her. Evelyn closed her eyes slightly, leaning into the attention. Natasha watched them. She knew the history. Martha and Evelyn’s mother had been close for years. That was how Evelyn and Josh met. They had once been together. And now Evelyn was back. Natasha could see it clearly. The way Martha treated her. The way Josh held her. The way Evelyn allowed it. She turned away briefly and picked up a small container of medication. And then she walked back and handed Evelyn the pills. “Take these,” she said. “You will feel better soon.” Before Evelyn could respond, Martha took the pills from Natasha’s hand. “Thank you,” Martha said, though her tone did not carry warmth. She helped Evelyn stand. Josh supported her as they moved toward the door. Evelyn held onto him, her steps slow and careful, as if she truly lacked strength. Natasha stood where she was and watched them leave. The door closed behind them. And silence filled the clinic. Josh remained. He stood there for a moment before turning to her. “Do you need a doctor?” he asked. Natasha let out a quiet, tired breath and sat down. “I am the doctor, Josh,” she said. “The only one left since Evelyn is sick.” Josh did not respond. Natasha picked up a glass of water and swallowed a pill. Then she looked at him. “I need to ask you something,” she said. Josh shifted slightly. “What is it?” Natasha held his gaze. “Are you sleeping with Evelyn?” The question hung in the air. Josh’s expression changed instantly. “What?” he said. Natasha did not look away. “I see the way you look at her,” she continued. “I see how much time you spend with her.” Josh frowned. “Is that what you think?” “Then what is it?” she asked. Her voice was calm, but there was tension beneath it. She stood up slowly and walked toward him. Josh was taller, and stronger. But Natasha did not step back. She stopped in front of him. “When was the last time you joined us in clearing the blocks? Most of the streets still remain untouched. When was the last time you went out with the men?” she asked. Josh did not answer. His silence was enough, and Natasha felt it. She had been holding this in for far too long now. But she was done staying quiet. “I am your wife,” she said quietly. “But lately, I feel like I am not even part of your life.” Josh looked away. Natasha studied his face. “Look at me,” she said. He did not. That hurt more than anything else. “You cannot even deny it,” she continued. “That tells me everything I need to know.” Josh exhaled slowly. “You are reading too much into this.” “No,” Natasha replied. “I am finally seeing it clearly.” Her voice did not rise, but it carried weight. She stepped back slightly. “If there is something going on, say it,” she said. “I deserve that much.” Josh remained silent, but Natasha waited. She gave him time—wanted the truth, but it did not come. Instead, the silence stretched between them again. And this time, it felt like something had already broken.Three weeks after the first confirmed messages from overseas, Aaron stood in the kitchen and made breakfast while Natasha watched from the doorway. His movements were slower than they used to be, but he had managed the meal without asking for help. He set the pan down before reaching for the plates, taking the small pauses his recovery still required. Natasha waited until he turned toward her. “You could have called me.” “I wanted to do this.” He looked at the two places set at the counter. “Will you sit with me?” She crossed the room and took the seat beside him. They had been home for a little over a week. At first, she had woken whenever he moved, afraid that a change in his breathing meant something she needed to catch. The fear still came, but now there were mornings when she opened her eyes to find him watching the daylight instead of a monitor. Aaron placed her food in front of her and sat down. His headaches had become less frequent, and the tremor usually appeared on
A week after Aaron opened his eyes, he reached the end of the hospital corridor without needing to sit down halfway. Natasha walked beside him, keeping her hand close to his arm while the rehabilitation nurse followed a few steps behind. At the window, he stopped and looked out over New Haven. His breathing was heavier than the short distance should have made it. There was a faint tremor in the hand he rested against the wall, and fatigue had already tightened his expression. “The chair is behind you,” Natasha said. He glanced at it, then at the corridor they had just crossed. “I thought I would get back first.” “You can rest and still get back.” Aaron looked at her long enough for her to recognize the argument forming. Then he lowered himself into the chair. The nurse checked on him and left them a little space while she spoke to another member of staff. Natasha sat beside him. Outside, a work crew was repairing a section of pavement, passing tools between them in the morning l
The first full day after their return, Natasha woke with a folded blanket over her shoulders and Aaron's hand resting beneath hers. For a few seconds, she did not remember where they were. Then the monitor sounded beside the bed, and the hospital room returned around her. He had not opened his eyes. Nyra sat near the window with a covered plate on her knees. She looked tired, with a clean dressing at the edge of one sleeve and dust still caught in the stitching of her boots. When Natasha shifted, she placed the plate on the small table beside her. “Eat while it is warm.” Natasha looked at Aaron. His breathing was being watched closely, but the urgency of the previous morning had eased. The physician had explained the changes twice. She understood them when he spoke, then found herself studying the same numbers as though another answer might appear between them. “Has anyone been in?” she asked. “His doctor. Grace. Marcus checked from the doorway.” Nyra uncovered the food. “They w
“I have a pulse.” The medic's words stopped Liora halfway to the equipment case. She turned toward Aaron while Elias checked the monitor beside him. The rhythm held through one breath, then another. It was weak, but it continued without the compressions that had kept everyone watching his chest. The second medic maintained his breathing support. No one moved away from him. His eyes remained closed, his face pale beneath the emergency light, and there was still work to do before they could take him out. “Prepare the stretcher,” the medic told Rowan. “We need the medical transport ready when we reach the surface.” Rowan passed the request to Claire. She had already cleared an undamaged carrier from the reserve position and sent its crew toward Silas's extraction lane. Victor ordered a protected movement through the eastern passage. The central entrance remained open, but the damaged western structures made that side too uncertain for the wounded. Liora kept the live display long en
The first change appeared on Liora's display as a break in the stream returning from the core. Omega had entered the primary structure. Its instruction moved along a command branch, reached the connections beyond it and began shutting down the pattern that kept them working together. Hargrove leaned closer without touching the controls. “The first branch is no longer returning commands.” Another section changed. Then a third. The map continued farther than Liora could display on one screen, following the links they had studied before leaving New Haven. She pulled the view back until the local connections became a small part of the worldwide structure. The destructive signal was spreading beyond Facility Seven. Natasha felt each passage more sharply than the instruments could show it. Commands that had crowded her thoughts separated into individual demands, then lost the pressure that made the hosts obey. For a moment, she sensed bodies hesitating on distant roads and within buildi
Natasha stayed where the familiar route ended, feeling Aaron through a connection that now reached her in shortened intervals. Each return brought a little warmth and the effort he was making to remain recognizable. She wanted to draw him closer, but she could feel what that would cost him. If I follow it, the load rises again, she told him. Even with the reduction. Then we need to hear what they can still do. He did not ask her to ignore his condition. Through him, she heard Elias checking the response to the lower exposure. The irregularity had eased, although Aaron's heart was still working too hard. His medic remained beside him, watching every change. “We keep this reduced setting,” Elias said. “There is less of an anchor available to her, but increasing it again would undo the protection. If his readings cross the stop limit, I end his bridge.” “Understood,” Aaron answered aloud. He brought the words into the connection so Natasha could hear him clearly. That remains our ag
“Wait… don’t tell me you’re infected?” Martha said, her voice rising in panic. “Stop, Mom. What are you talking about?” Josh cut in quickly, trying to shut her down. Even as he spoke, he understood what she meant, and that made his chest tighten. Natasha forced herself to stay calm. “I don’t know
Josh didn’t have an answer to Natasha’s questions—because there wasn’t one. But Natasha took his silence as an answer anyway. Once again, nothing was settled. It felt like her marriage was falling apart, and she couldn’t do anything to stop it. Night came quickly, and they both went to bed. Josh s
The air in the dining room was heavy from the moment breakfast began. No one said anything at first. Plates were set, food was served, and chairs scraped lightly against the floor as everyone ate. It looked like a normal morning, but it did not feel like one. Natasha sat quietly, her hands resting
The morning air felt cold. Josh paced along the porch, his eyes fixed on the heavy iron gates. Natasha had been taken away for the past twenty-four hours, and there was nothing he could do to bring her back. The weight of it sat deep in his chest. “She’s gone, Josh,” Martha said as she sipped her







