"Aden" was not a person. It was an old fishing outpost on the jagged northern coast, abandoned fifteen years ago after the Great Surge. It was also the codename for a contingency they all swore they would never have to use.
"Marcus?" Elias called out, his voice barely louder than a whisper, swallowed by the crashing of the waves against the rocks below. Aden Aden Aden
"You came alone?" The voice was Marcus's, but it was strained, thin. "Of course. What happened?" "Aden" was not a person
"There's no time!" Marcus snapped, flinching as a gull shrieked overhead. He thrust the briefcase toward Elias. "They traced my signal. They knew I'd call someone. Take it. Clara is in the city, she has the encryption key. You have to get it to her." "Marcus
"If the world falls apart," Marcus had said, half-joking over cheap drinks, "and you can only get one word out before they cut the line... say the location thrice. No questions asked. Just run there."
Elias sat up, the chill of the room biting at his bare shoulders. His heart hammered against his ribs. He looked over at Elena, still breathing softly, oblivious. He carefully rolled out of bed, grabbing his jeans from the floor and his jacket from the back of the chair.
The truck bounced violently as Elias turned off the main road onto the dirt path leading to the ruins of the Aden cannery. He killed the lights a quarter-mile out, coasting the rest of the way in the dark, guided only by the faint, pale glow of the moon breaking through the mist.