“Maybe we can try and call Connor tonight,” Beckham said as they walked. “I’m sure he’s doing a good job taking care of them, but it would be good to check in.”
“I’d really like that.” Kate motioned toward a circle of benches under a roof of curving southern live oak tree branches near the reflection pool. “How about we sit down over there?”
Beckham dropped into one of the benches, then spread the bag’s contents between them. Their escort of soldiers fanned out, eying the refugees.
“PB&Js, apples, and a couple of waters,” Kate said. “Don’t tell me you made it all yourself.”
Beckham grinned. “As a matter of fact, I did. Hope it’s up to your standards.”
She took the first bite of her sandwich, then looked out over the reflection pool. “We started the analyses on that grenade Timothy’s team recovered.”
“Oh?”
Kate nodded, swallowing her food. “It appears to be a modified tear gas grenade.”
“Really? I thought it was some—”
“That’s not all,” she interrupted. “There wasn’t tear gas inside. I’ve already confirmed it has bacterial components, but we haven’t identified what that bacteria is yet.”
“Good God.” Beckham found his appetite was gone.
“I’ll know more soon.”
Beckham forced a bite down. “Any other news from the tunnels?”
“We’ve been monitoring all the channels, but we’re no closer to finding out where the Prophet is.”
“No indication of any upcoming attacks?”
“Nothing yet.”
Beckham suddenly went still. Kate’s eyes flitted to the ground, like she was recalling something horrid. He placed his hand on hers.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yeah…”
“You can tell me. It’s okay.”
“That network… every time I connect, I hear the voices of all the people attached to the webbing. I can hear the monsters communicating with each other, talking about killing people, ripping them apart. And there’s nothing I can do to save them.”
“Everything we’re doing is to save them.” Beckham squeezed her hand. He was glad Leslie had been trained on connecting to the network too. He could see his wife desperately needed a break from the immense mental toil that integrating with the network must cost her.
“Even if we eventually succeed, how many will die?”
“We’ll do our best to save everyone we can,” Beckham said.
“I know,” Kate said. “It starts here in this outpost. At least with you and Commander Jacobs on the job, the people here will be safe.”
“I’m not so sure.” Beckham picked up his apple but stopped shy of eating it. “The first wave of new reinforcements from Canada and Mexico have helped shore a few holes in our defenses. But some of the soldiers they’ve sent are more inexperienced than the greenhorns who trained with Timothy.”
“Then you don’t think we’ll be safe?”
She too had stopped eating and instead stared out at the reflection pool. A few children were chasing ducks with their parents watching.
“It’s not safe anywhere.” Beckham saw a couple of families in nearby tents looking over at him. They were too far to hear him, but he spoke in a quieter voice all the same. “The gas grenade you analyzed has me worried the enemy will try something different.”
“You’re right,” she said, starting to stand. “Maybe taking the time for lunch was a mistake. I need to focus on finding out what kind of bacteria was in that grenade.”
“You still need to eat.” Beckham looked up at her until she slowly sat back down.
Again, he looked around, making sure no one was listening in.
“I’ve been working with command to prepare rapid evacuation procedures for all the civilians at the first sign of danger,” Beckham said.
“You want to abandon Houston?”
“We have to consider a backup plan in case the reinforcements and defenses don’t hold.” Beckham’s fingers tightened around his water bottle. “I hate to admit it, but after the news we got about Banff, we can’t be caught with our pants down like they were. They barely got civilians out in time. And many didn’t make it.” Beckham looked his wife in the eyes. “If the enemy does come, I want you to be on the first truck out of here.”
“I’m not leaving without you.”
“You’ll have to,” Beckham said. “You’re the brains of the science operation.” He leaned closer. “Most importantly, you’re Javier’s mother. No matter what happens, he can’t lose both of us.”
“Don’t talk like that. He’s not going to lose either of us.”
“Kate, we have to be realistic. We have to consider everything.”
“Of course we do, but we’re not in Canada. We have an advantage they don’t have. We’re listening to the collaborator network. We’ll know before the monsters attack.”
Beckham started to nod, but realization stabbed through him of something he had missed. “Kate, you and your team never intercepted anything about the scouts around Houston, right?”
She shook her head.
“And this new grenade weapon—nothing about it?” he asked.
“No, unfortunately.”
“And Banff?”
“No, but…” Kate trailed off. “That’s all the way north. Maybe they didn’t communicate about the attack on our network.”
“Are you sure? Back in New York, you were able to intercept intel on attacks across the country. Why would that have changed now?”
Kate arched a brow. “Maybe we’re doing something wrong. Our communication efforts might not work as well as I thought—or we’re cut off from part of their network here in Houston.”
Two of the refugee children playing soccer looked at them, pointing at their food. They started to approach Beckham and Kate, but one of the soldiers stepped to block them.
“It’s okay,” Kate said. The boys were skinny and dirty. She waved them over and gave them the apples she and Beckham had neglected.
The boys ran away with the fruit, smiles spreading across their faces.
“You and Jacobs are working on a Plan B then,” Kate said. “If the communication intercepts aren’t working as well anymore, maybe it’s time the science team makes a Plan B of our own.”
— 8 —
President Ringgold walked down the sidewalk next to General Cornelius and Colonel Stilwell. The president’s Secret Service agents shadowed them.
They passed by the Galveston boardwalk. It
