When Tomorrow Never Comes

Previously

…Stevie’s fingers danced across the holographic keyboard, her eyes scanning lines of code that swam before her. The world outside was teetering on the precipice, each passing second a hammer blow against the fragile edifice of civilization. Julliana, the Black Death, was a phantom, her attacks precise and devastating, leaving behind only ruin and a creeping dread. Stevie had seen the displaced, the terrified, the hollowed-out shells of what were once thriving communities. It was a vision that clawed at the edges of her memory, a phantom limb ache from a mission