Two black heavy-duty SUVs came to a halt outside the Neville residence. A team of operatives exited the vehicles. Four of them went around to the back with their rifles cocked and ready. Other two slammed a battering ram through the front door. And two others checked around the front yard and the driveway for any evidence pointing towards an escape.

The ones who'd gone inside soon found all the rooms to be empty. Also the closets just had hangers and no clothes, even the pantry was devoid of all supplies.

The two operatives checking outside observed a big rectangular shadow in the dusty driveway. This is where a car would've stood for a long long time. And there were tyre tracks moving away from the shadow. Fresh tyre tracks.

Neville and his wife had already left the house. That was affirmative. And that's what they reported to Luce.

"Retreat from the area and report back to your seniors," Luce answered from the radio room in the Sector 22 House of Operations. He then plugged the communication jack into the radio slot corresponding to the Sector 22 Airport authorities. "I wanted to pass down an important message to your security unit. It's about holding back a certain passenger from boarding the escape flight which is about to take off in two hours, presumably," he said. "The passenger's name is Lisa Neville. She is pregnant and she will be with her husband Richard Neville. A file containing their pictures and flight details is already mailed to you guys. I want you to make sure neither of the Nevilles Or whoever they come with board the flight. I repeat, don't let the Nevilles board the flight."

###

"You're telling me my husband ran away from C3MC?" Lisa asked Cathy as they drew closer to the airport.

Cathy nodded. "He was hoping to expose the government's motives about the Silver Lining Initiative," she said. "And he also wanted to deliver the card to you. So you could get on the flight."

"So that him and I can get on the flight together, right?" Lisa asked.

Cathy sighed. "He wasn't so sure about it, Mrs. Neville," she said.

Lisa frowned. "So he was never gonna make it."

Cathy looked down. She shook her head. "He was already infected."

Lisa stared at the road ahead, feeling a sob choking her throat, tears welling up in her eyes. Her one hand left the steering and rested on her pregnant belly, as if reassuring the child she carried. She kept driving.

The night breeze was thick with a purple mist, the 'death breath' as it had been dubbed by the news. This was the effect of special cluster bombs that were dropped during the strafe. Their purpose wasn't to destroy the cities but to fill the air that the people breathed with lethal toxins. The radios often mentioned the names of the "enemy nations" that had done this to Ardvenia, but it hardly ever mattered to Cathy. For all she cared, they were just the people who lived beyond their borders. What she didn't understand was why they hated her country so much.

Then Lisa finally swallowed hard and said. "So the virus killed Richard?"

This thing is just one difficult question after another isn't it? Cathy thought. "No. It wasn't the virus."

"What?" Lisa's eyes were wide.

"He didn't die because of the virus," Cathy said. She felt torn on whether she was supposed to elaborate. She was a stranger to both Neville and Clint. Both of those had been mere passing acquaintances. Running all the way to Lisa Neville to deliver a card was no act of keeping a personal promise. It was merely the right thing to do. And yet, something about both Lisa and the Harrises felt familiar. It somehow felt like...home. It was a strange feeling. She wasn't sure what to make of it yet.

"Then how did Richard die?" Lisa said, breaking Cathy's meditation.

It was Cathy's turn to swallow hard now. "He was shot."

Lisa gasped under her gas mask. "Wh-who shot him?"

###

"I didn't do it," Clint said to Marie as they were driving down the Inter-sector road to Sector 23. "That whole air-filter thing--"

"Don't," Marie said as she drove, "talk about it." She glanced at the rearview mirror at Zack who was nodding off in the backseat. "Not now."

Clint sighed. "I'm not the bad guy, damnit!" he blurted out. "That's all I'm trying to communicate. I just--"

"I said don't!" Marie snapped. "I don't wanna talk about it right now." She bared her teeth at Clint, her heavy breath fogged the visor of her gas mask.

Clint looked out the window, out at the purple mist that laced the air.

Marie kept driving.

"What was it like before, mom?" Zack asked from the backseat. "Before the air turned sour? The fishes died in the lakes and the rivers stopped flowing."

Marie's nerves were still all shot up. But she wasn't gonna take it out on her son for just being a curious twelve year old.

"It was wonderful, kiddo," Clint said before Marie could answer. "You should've seen the trees. They used to be green. Back when you were still in kindergarten, there used to be flowers with sweet scent and colorful butterflies bouncing from flower to flower. People used to have picnics in summers. There used to be birds in the air. You could see squirrels rushing around at the parks. And just before the rains, you could hear the cicadas make a ruckus." Clint gazed up at the dark purple clouds in the sky. "There was no threat of bombs dropping out of nowhere, no disaster sirens going off in the middle of the night. And rains were just a bit annoying when you didn't have an umbrella. They never burned people to death." Never made you kill other people.

"Sounds cool." Zack gazed at the piles of blasted concrete they were passing by. These would've been buildings and schools and houses and shops. People used to live in these things, work in these things, sleep in these things. It wasn't like Zack had never seen the greenery of nature. But he was at a point where he needed to be reminded what 'normal' was supposed to look like. Childhood memories aren't as ever-lasting as some people make them out to be. The boy turned back to his parents and asked, "Did you two fight back then just as much as you do right now?"

Marie and Clint frowned at the road ahead. Only the silent hum of the engine did all the talking from there on.

###

Lisa Neville pulled the car into the airport parking and killed the engine. She turned to Cathy. "Board the plane with me, Cathy," she said. It was a request that sounded quite stern, yet full of supplication.

Cathy bit her lip nervously. "Why me, Mrs. Neville?"

"I don't know anyone where the plane is gonna take me," Lisa said. She then looked down at her belly. "Also, with Richard gone, I feel even more scared to be a mother right now."

"Mrs. Neville, you don't know me either," Cathy said.

Lisa looked her right in the eye. "You're a good person," she said. "You had no reason to keep the promise you made to Richard. You could've just gone on with your life, looked out for yourself. Even with the deadly rains threatening to burn everything down, you came all the way just to deliver the card to me. So I know for a fact that you are a good person."

Cathy couldn't hold the woman's gaze. She hung her head, feeling exhausted. This was probably the best thing that had happened to her throughout the day. Heck, throughout the week. After watching her parents sinking into the slow death from the virus, this chance to escape the living hell of Sector 22 was a welcome change. A chance to start over. The thing she'd always wanted.

But then her fingers twitched, her hands shivered a little. Why? she thought. I'm happy. I'm happy that I'm getting out of this mess. Then why?

Maybe it was just the after-effect of all she'd been through in the last twenty four hours. Maybe the emotions that had been on standby all this time were finally catching up to her. And all of it crashed over her in an overwhelming wave. Tears of joy, sadness and hope threatened to burst out of her eyes all at once. Cathy started to shiver. She clenched her fists, shut her eyes, tried to hold it all in. Not now. Please not now!

That's when soft fingers wrapped around her shivering fists. A reassuring voice spoke through a plastic visor. "It's okay," Lisa said. "You don't have to hold back right now. Whatever it is you have been through can end right here. Just come with me, Cathy. All our worries will end right here."

Cathy opened her eyes, looked at Lisa again, this time through a screen of tears, but it wasn't overwhelming anymore. "You're right." She managed to smile. "Let's go."

They both made their way past the main entrance of the airport. After the basic decontamination, they underwent a full body whisking by two security guards. Cathy's pistol was confiscated. So was Lisa's pocket knife. Then the security woman checked Cathy's flare gun, shrugged and handed it back to her. "You'll need to submit this at the next security checkpoint. They are the ones responsible for confiscating pyrotechnics," the lady said.

Cathy shrugged and slipped the flare gun back in her jacket. And the lady allowed her to pass through.

The airport lobby was quite deserted except for the squads and squads of gun wielding operatives that patrolled every aisle, corner and gateway of the premises. There were just four passengers who waited for the announcement that echoed around rather ominously.

Lisa squirmed a little. Cathy felt a bit nervous herself. They were about to join the other passengers when an operative approached them.

Cathy regarded the man with a nervous frown. His face was obscured behind a plexiglass helmet with a built in air filter. He wore a kevlar vest, twin batons, a pair of handcuffs and a handgun on his hips. And the rifle in his hands was a semi-automatic.

"Are you Mrs. Lisa Neville?" he asked, his voice was a natural baritone but the soft hiss of the air filter in his helmet made each word sound more intimidating.

Lisa was a bit stumped to get approached like this. And the fact that he knew her name indicated that she was approached with a definite purpose. "Yes, I'm Lisa," she said.

Another operative stepped up behind them. Cathy's nervousness was hiking up.

"I want you to come with us," the first operative said. "There are some questions we need to ask you."

"What is this about?" Lisa asked.

"We expect you to cooperate, ma'am," the other operative said.

"She is just asking what this is about," Cathy said. "Why are you guys trying to intimidate us?"

"This is a sensitive matter, resistance wouldn't be appreciated." The first guy stepped closer to them.

Cathy was scared now but she wasn't about to let these guys bully them. "Back off, brother." She stepped up. "We can hear you just fine from four steps away." She stared into the dark plexiglass helmet.

Lisa put a hand on her shoulder. "Cathy, don't."

Even though Cathy's nerves were in overdrive, she wasn't about to lose the stare-down with the guy in the helmet. She didn't blink, didn't flinch.

"Don't make us use force against you," the operative said.

"Don't make me punch a hole in your helmet." I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna...

###

The first thing that the operative saw when he entered the cafeteria at the House of Operations was Luce's back. His silver blonde hair gleaming in the glow of the LED lamps above. He was on a stool by the counter on the opposite end. His head leaned down, staring into his cup of espresso.

"Sir." The operative snapped a salute. "There's an update on the Neville situation."

"Yes?" Luce said, not turning around.

"Sir...we got a message from the airport in Sector 22," the operative said. "Lisa Neville came to board the escape flight."

"Hm." Luce's head was still hanging, eyes boring into the rich brown swirl in his drink. "Did they arrest her?"

"She ran away, sir."

"Pardon?"

"Lisa Neville escaped," the operative said, rather reluctantly. "She had an accomplice. Not Richard Neville. It was a girl who is yet to be identified. She seemed to be in her teens."

"Isn't Lisa Neville pregnant?" Luce was now rubbing a slice of lemon over the rim of his espresso cup.

"Yes, sir. She is."

"A pregnant woman and a teenager managed to escape a heavily guarded airport?"

The operative swallowed hard before he said the next bit of news. "Also...two operatives died in pursuit, sir."

Luce put the slice of lemon next to his cup and stared into his drink once again, still not bothering to turn and regard the operatives. "Pass a new order down the line. Shoot Lisa Neville and her friend on sight. Silencing her is a bigger priority than arresting her now. Dismiss" He waved his hand in a single jerk.

The operative snapped another salute before leaving the cafeteria and rushing towards the radio room.

That's when Luce finally raised the cup of espresso to his lips and took a sip. His eyes showed the slightest bit of distaste as he scoffed. "This coffee tastes like crap."