The overpopulated island was as grimy as ever. Though the sun shone there was no beauty for it to touch upon. Green fields had been replaced with shabby houses. Grass and plants that had been spared from the buildings had been trodden down by the thousands of feet that walked the way every day.

Voices blended together, forming a loud hum.

A child wrapped in layers of clothes to keep out the cold sat in the dirt. He noisily sucked his thumb as one grubby hands picked up piles of dust. He seemed far from bothered by the many strangers that walked by, some barely avoiding treading on him. His mother stood a little further, trying to barter for can of tomato paste from a teenager.

The further one went into the island, the more one could see that the houses toward the center had once looked somewhat decent. With brick walls it seemed that they had lived in better times. One area near the middle was fenced off. Men dressed in army gear walked within while trucks rolled in and out. Serval hangers surrounded a nicer building in the middle. A few fighter jets were parked in neat rows.

A helicopter appeared above, throwing up dirt as it landed on a slab of concrete surrounded by a hastily sprayed white circle.

It had barely settled when a young woman jumped out. Her blonde hair, which seemed to be in a permanent pony tail, bounced as she strode to one of the hangers. Two armed men hurried after her. Whomever she passed paused to salute. She barely noticed the gesture.

Breezing through a hanger she only paused to throw open a door that lead into a hallway. Men and woman armed with papers scurried up and down it. None got in her way as they went about their business.

Armed men still trailing behind, the woman reached another door. Without hesitation she threw it open. A room with beeping computers was revealed. Men and woman sat at machines and around desks. Some wore headsets as they communicated with voices on the other ends, others typed furiously, and still others worked in silence, fingers clicking away as their eyes flew across words on their screens.

The woman ignored it all and headed straight for a room to the side. It was behind a glass wall that was covered with scrawls of dry markers. In the middle stood a round table over which a middle aged man was leaning. Unlike the camo most were wearing, his uniform was black with plain gold stripes around his wrist and shoulders. The crest of a white eagle was over his chest. His mouth moved as he talked to two others in the room, a map spread out before them.

"What is this?" The woman demanded. Though she entered, the armed men stayed by the door.

"Commander Natalia," the man with the crest didn't look up as he spoke. "I see you're out of quarantine. I heard the scavenging mission ran into some problems."

"Problems?" A step was taken forward and Natalia slammed a hand down on the table. "The place was overrun by infected and infectors alike!"

"I heard. It was unfortunate."

"The area was supposed to be bombed!"

The man picked up a marker. He drew an X across a spot. "It was."

Seeming to realize that the other two in the room were staring at her, the commander took a deep breath. "I was assured the threat level was low," her voice was somewhat more controlled. For the first time she noticed a fourth man. He wore a white coat and sat in a corner, silently watching the exchange.

"There is always a threat," came the general's reply.

"I had children with me."

"Sacrifices are a daily occurrence we must live with."

"General!" Natalia's fingers clenched into a fist. "Your son was there."

For the first time the man looked up. He turned to the others and made a motion. "Leave us."

They scurried from the room, seeming all too eager to get out. The man sitting in a corner stood, however, the general waved for him to stay. There was no protest as he sat back down.

Once the door closed, the general placed both his hands on the table. He bowed his head and took a breath. "The twenty four hour response?"

"They returned with a few..." Natalia paused. Her eyes darted to the man in the white coat. She couldn't help but note that she had never seen him before. "He wasn't among them."

The general nodded.

"I believe there are more." Natalia leaned forward, attention moving from the man in the corner back to the general. "Let me send another."

A hand was lifted by the general to silence her. He shook his head.

"General!"

The older man looked up, eyes showing little emotion. "Twenty four hours. We go back once. We cannot spare more."

Natalia shook her head. "They turned up early...what if others made it to the pick-up location?"

"Natalia," the general's voice was firm. "From what I hear no one else would have survived that."

"Sir!" The commander stared at him. "If there's even a chance we should head back out. Surely the Force will agree with me?"

"I will not put more men and women at risk."

"You're son may be out there!" Natalie protested. The man in the corner faded from her mind.

"Commander!" the general boomed. "Personal feelings are not a reason to send men to die!"

Natalia took a step back.

"I understand your brother was among the causalities," he spoke softer. "I am truly sorry." He walked around the table, leaving the marker behind. As he reached Natalia he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Losing family to those creatures is difficult. However," his eyes turned to the glass walls, staring at the men and woman beyond. "Those in a position of authority cannot show weakness. We have what remains of our world looking up at us. We must concentrate on the people we can save, on what we can do. We must put our effort into trying to get our world back."

Natalia's shoulders dropped as he spoke.

"Though it is painful, it is a path we must walk." The commander removed his hand. "We will hold a memorial for the fallen later in the week." He turned back to the map.

Natalie stared at the paper. It was dotted by red Xs. Each was drawn through a city. Her eyes caught sight of one in particular. The one she had returned from. An X went right through it.

When the general didn't say another word, she turned.

"Commander." His voice stopped her. Had she turned she would have seen him staring right at her. "There will be no one going on a rescue mission, understood?"

She didn't reply.

"That's a direct order from the Force."

Her fingers curled and uncurled and her eyes closed.

"I hope it was quick," the general murmured. "For their sakes."

Natalia's eyes opened. "Yes." With that she walked from her room, her steps with less purpose than before. She barely noticed the two armed men falling in behind her once more. She didn't see the woman with papers who narrowly avoided bumping into her.

"Commander!" She was about to reach the hanger when the voice made her pause. Turning, she found the man in the white coat hurrying toward her.

The two armed men exchanged glances. She waved them to the side as the man approached. During her exchange with the general she had completely forgotten about him.

"Dr. Stein." The man reached out a hand.

Natalia's eyes ran over him. He was a handsome bloke who looked to be in his early thirties. Though he wore a lab coat his weathered skin showed that he did more than just stay indoors. "I work on island 3.1."

That island is classified. The knowledge flashed through Natalie's mind at once. Perhaps if circumstances had been different she would have cared. "What can I do for you doctor?" she asked curtly.

"Ah..." seeming to realize that she wouldn't be taking his hand, the man dropped it. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation..."

"Of course, you were in the same room."

"Yes..." His smile revealed almost perfectly white teeth. Perhaps bleached back when the world was still normal. "Well, I just wanted to ask you personally..." He took a step closer, eyes turning serious. "Do you think there could really be some survivors?"

Natalie regarded him. "It's likely."

"Your brother?"

That hit a nerve.

Stein seemed to realize. "I apologize. My curiosity...you see, I haven't been out there since the evacuation... "

Waving him off, Natalia nodded. "My brother was never one to go down easily...if anyone was to survive..." she trailed off.

Dr. Stein looked intrigued. "If that's the case, as soldiers..." he paused, "Your brother." He leaned forward. "If he was among the survivors. What would he do?"

"Does it matter?"

"Call it a case of curiosity...for research."

Natalie let out a sigh. "The first instinct of most would be to stay put and hope for rescue..."

"But not your brother?"

The commander shook her head. "The soldiers know rescue only comes once. Knowing him he would attempt to find his way home."

"Interesting." Dr. Stein murmured to himself as a finger stroked his chin.

Natalia regarded him. She couldn't read his intention and it bothered her.

"What are the chances of a group making it back?" His next question was one she had already considered the moment the general had told her there would be no second rescue. Dwelling on it would make her begin to hope. She could not let that happen.

"The city was around a week inland with a convoy. That was with fighter jets heading out and bombing the areas before." Natalia spoke with little emotion as she shared the information. "If they had a car or two...perhaps they would get halfway. However, the chance of finding enough fuel isn't high, not if they take the same route. We extracted most of it...If they walked..." she shook her head. "That's not even taking into account the infected."

"I would be more worried about the infectors," Dr. Stein raised commented.

Natalie shook her head. "If they left them behind..."

"Yes but..." Dr. Stein trailed off. "Ah. It can't be..." His eyes searched hers.

"What?"

"Have you not heard?"

Natalia cocked her head.

"Infectors have the trait of sometimes tracking their prey."

Silence.

"It's part of my research. I haven't been able to prove it exactly yet, but I'm sure it's something to add to the list of things we're discovering about them. Quite intriguing and yet terrifying, is it not?"

Tracking? The thought sent an involuntary shiver through her. Then if he's still alive he could be... She shook the thought from her mind.

"Not only do they create hordes to hunt, but they also enjoy doing so on their own. Quite the predator, are they not?"

"He's dead."

"I beg your pardon?"

Natalia stared right at the doctor. She did not want to listen to anymore. "There are no survivors. Now if you would excuse me. I would like some time alone."

The professor regarded her for a moment before sighing. "Of course. My sincere condolences."

With a curt nod, Natalia turned and continued on her way.

Dr. Stein watched her disappear around the corner. A smile twitched on the edge of his lips before he whirled. "Carol!"

A woman stepped around the corner. She clutched a clipboard. Round glasses surrounded her eyes and she gave them a push up her nose.

"Get me access to some bios. Also, find me a drone..." Dr. Stein walked toward her and she began to scribble furiously on the clipboard.

"Of course." Carol glanced up as the doctor walked by her. "What bios in particular?" She had to hurry and walk after the man in the coat before he put too much distance between them.

"Those who went scavenging with commander Natalia and didn't return." For every one step he took, Carol took two. "Once we have the drone we can hopefully narrow it down." His lips split into a grin.

Carol glanced up. "You're smiling, sir."

"Of course. We may have found something." The doctor's hands went to his pocket. "Hopefully, this time it'll turn into something good."

As he walked in one way, Natalia walked in the other. She exited the building, back the way she had come. Once outside she let the cold air slap her face. She turned her eyes up to the blue sky, the only thing of beauty that could be seen from the island. Yet, despite its blue it didn't look beautiful to her today.

Shai. For a brief moment conflict flashed through her eyes. Then it was gone. She turned on her heel, heading back for the helicopter. "Let's get back to work." The words were directed at the two men behind her. Her encounter with the Dr. was already being pushed to the back of her mind. The thought of her brother, however, could only be avoided by throwing herself into the work she did best.

The commander headed for a truck, steps filled with purpose once more.