“Private Wilson, step forward please.”

Hollis moved into the lights.

“You remember Hollis, don’t you, Lish? Why don’t you say hello.”

Her head was bowed. “Why do you even ask me that?”

“How about his daughter, Kate? She would have been a little girl the last time you saw her.”

Alicia nodded.

“Say it. Say you remember Kate.”

“Yes, I remember her.”

“I’m glad you do. She grew up to be a doctor, just like her mother. Two little girls of her own. Then one of your friends bit her last night. Want to know what happened next?”

Alicia was silent.

“Do you?”

“Just get on with it, Peter.”

“All right, I will. That little girl you remember? She shot herself.”

Her silence infuriated him. What had happened to her? What had she become?

“You don’t have anything to say for yourself?”

“What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? You can do what you want with me, but that won’t stop a thing.”

Peter’s pulse was pounding; his hands were clenched. He jabbed a finger at her. “Look at him. I’ll get Sara out here, Kate’s daughters, too. You can tell all of them how fucking sorry you are.”

Alicia said nothing.

“Two hundred thousand people, Lish. And you come here and talk about surrender? Like he’s your friend?”

Her shoulders shook. Was she crying?

“I’ll ask you again. What does Fanning want with Amy?”

Her head rocked from side to side. “I don’t know.”

“Gunnar, give me your sidearm.”

Apgar drew his pistol, spun it in his hand, and passed it to Peter. Peter released the magazine, checked it, and shoved it back into the well, making a loud show of it.

Michael said, “Peter, what the hell are you doing?”

“This woman is a viral. She’s in league with the enemy.”

“It’s Alicia! She’s one of us!”

Peter strode forward and leveled the barrel at Alicia’s temple. “Tell me, goddamnit.”

“I know she’s here,” Alicia murmured. “I can hear it in your voice.”

He thumbed back the hammer and spoke through gritted teeth. He was running on instinct now, a blind white fury, obliterating all thought. “Answer the question or I am going to put a bullet through your head.”

“Wait.”

He turned. Amy, clutching Greer’s arm for balance, was standing at the edge of the circle.

“Lucius, get her the hell out of here.”

Two soldiers moved to block their path. One pressed a hand against Greer’s chest. The man tensed, then, apparently changing his mind, permitted this.

“Let me talk to her,” Amy said.

The idea was ludicrous. The woman could barely stand; a puff of wind would have knocked her to her knees.

“I mean it, Greer.”

“I understand you’re angry,” Amy said, “but there’s more to this than you know.”

She spoke to him as one might address a dangerous animal or a man poised at the lip of an abyss. Peter was suddenly conscious of the pistol’s slick weight in his hand.

“Lucius can stay where he is,” Amy said, “but if you want answers, you need to let me through.”

Peter looked back at Alicia. The woman’s head hung in submission; she seemed small, frail, broken. Had he really been about to shoot her? This seemed impossible, yet in the moment, something had taken him over, beyond his control.

“Please, Peter.”

The moment stretched; everyone was staring.

“All right,” he said. “Let her pass.”

The soldiers stepped back. Amy’s shadow lay long on the ground as she approached Alicia’s cowed figure. Using her body to shield Alicia’s face from the light, Amy crouched before her.

“Hello, sister. It’s good to see you.”

“I’m sorry, Amy.” Her shoulders shook. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Tenderly, Amy lifted Alicia’s chin with the tips of her fingers. “Do you know how proud I am of you? You’ve been so very strong.”

Tears were coursing down Alicia’s cheeks, cutting bright streaks in the dirt. “How can you say that to me?”

Amy smiled into her face. “Because we’re sisters, isn’t that so? Sisters in blood. My thoughts have never been far from you, you know.”

Alicia said nothing.