Page 85 of Mayflower

“That’s why I love you. Stay safe, please.”

“On it. Love you.”

The Center already got Tsariuk’s message. Several guards are pulling the crates with masks out. Several are taking those to the conference rooms for the residents.

The loudspeakers come alive in the Center and throughout Ayana, as do our phones’ emergency alerts.

“ATTENTION. Prepare for the gas attack. Masks on. Masks on. The countdown for the gas attack begins. Prepare for the attack. In four minutes and fifty-nine seconds.”

The masks for the IT guys and guards are equipped with microphones and speakers.

“Ready?” I hear Marlow’s voice when I put mine on. “I hope we don’t die within five minutes.”

“Chill,” I say. “I approved the formula.”

I did. In fact, a team of twenty chemists did. The gas formula was designed by a Russian lab a long time ago and was bought by the US government for capture-and-release during their operations to fight the rebel groups on the mainland after the Change.

We contacted the US military to get the aftermath report. The gas is an incapacitating agent that’s highly effective, extremely quick, but highly soluble in the air. Which means, we only have ten or so minutes during which it takes effect. It knocks an average human out for about an hour. Allergies are not severe. So, I’m not worried at all about those in Port Mrei who will be affected. The direct attack perimeter covers Ayana and the jungle up to the town limits. Those on the outskirts and in Ashlands will be affected, too. We are hoping to get all the rebels. Those in hiding might even stay awake with mild grogginess. Meanwhile, we will be able to secure the Ayana perimeter and eliminate hundreds of attackers, then take control of Port Mrei.

“One minute, thirty seconds,” the voice announces over the speaker.

Gas masks on, all of us are staring at the screens, waiting to see what happens as the countdown on the speakers continues.

“Do the aerial view of the island,” I say, and one of the screens shows us the helicopters hovering above Ayana and the jungle.

My nerves twist into a knot.

“Twenty five. Twenty four. Twenty three,” the AI voice does the countdown, and I want to dial Kat and stay on the phone with her. Just in case. Just in case this goes fucking sideways. Because nuclear attacks once did. So did the first night on Zion after the Change.

Nothing visibly changes, but the main screen shows little black dots, like birds, separating from the helicopters above Zion and dropping onto the island.

My eyes dart to another screen, one from the main Ayana entrance. Small objects, like emergency supplies, fall from the sky, hit the ground, and burst out with smoke.

I know how this works. I studied the incapacitating agent. I watched the military footage of it being implemented in the past. We did an instructional session with the department of chemical warfare.

And still, my heart thuds like a fucking drum.

“Give us the farthest camera from Ayana, where we can see the attackers,” I order.

“That’s from the main road, past the airport,” the voice says in my earpiece.

We watch the screen that shows a truck with the towners on the side of the road. The screen slowly starts getting hazy, and suddenly, the three men step off the truck and cough, burying their faces in their sleeves. In a minute, they are wobbling, slumping against the truck, sinking onto the ground.

“It’s working,” I murmur. “It’s working!” I say more confidently. “Send the order to be ready for an attack! Marlow, we are going to the airport. Let’s move!”

Marlow and I put on bulletproof vests and storm out of the Center, escorted by a dozen armed guards.

As soon as we step outside, a wall of milky haze slams into us. I didn’t realize that it’s early morning already, but the sun is not up, and everything outside looks like fog in the mountains. Except this fog is tangible, moving swiftly right in front of my mask shield like a cloud.

I put a lot of faith into Tsariuk. He knows what he’s doing and won’t fuck this up because his daughter is here.

I think of Kat. She is somewhere in charge of the kids. She is a trooper. I only wish I could be next to her right now. The wild thing is much better trained for this shit than me. It’s for the best she doesn’t see me nervously flexing my fingers.

“Sure this is safe?” Marlow asks.

“It’s an incapacitating agent. Relax, Marlow.”

Except I can’t. I just hope this works. I hope there are no casualties.

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