Copyright © 2019 by Dave Bowman

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Contents

Fight to Survive

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Fight to Live

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Fight to be Free

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

About the Author

Fight to Survive

Prologue

Nick positioned himself out of sight, pointing the barrel of his rifle out the open window.

He knew they were out there somewhere, and he knew they were armed. They had been spying on Nick and the others, studying the property and its defenses. The moon had just dipped below the mountains in the distance, and the light was low in the meadow and surrounding forest. But his eyes had adjusted to the darkness. He scanned the meadow and the tree line beyond it, waiting for any movement outside in the dark night. He was ready.

He wouldn’t let them take what he had worked so hard to build. He would defend his home and the people he cared about, fighting with everything he had. He would channel all the rage, fear and desperation of the past few days into his rifle.

In the silent house, he could hear the ragged, anxious breathing of the others. The air was thick with tension and fear. He worked to calm his own breathing as the moments slowly passed in anticipation.

He saw a figure emerge from the shadows of the woods, moving quickly and stealthily. Before he could aim, a movement from behind him, from within the house, momentarily distracted him.

“Get down!” he urged, but before he could finish the words, the crack of a gunshot filled the night air like thunder.

1

September 1

Nick Redmond was having a very strange day.

Almost none of his workers had shown up to the construction site in northern El Paso, Texas. There were a couple of guys there, but they were so confused and disoriented that it was unsafe for them to be working. Their color looked bad, too. He sent them home, shaking his head. It had to be a bad bug to have rendered so many healthy men weak as kittens.

It must be that virus going around. He knew it was rough, but he hadn’t known it was this bad.

While he was taking care of some paperwork alone at the site, his phone beeped. His wife Kaitlyn had texted him. School had been canceled for their ten-year-old son Owen. Since Kaitlyn was at work, she had asked her mother to go pick up their son and keep him at her parents' house. Nick imagined Owen was happy to have the day off from school. Nick smiled to himself, recalling how the child would jump for joy at every snow day.

After a couple of hours, Nick ran out of things to do at the site without the workers, and he left. He had some projects of his own to work on at home, and he could use the day off to make progress on them.

Stopping at the corner store for a six pack, he gaped at the chaotic scene. Cars filled the parking lot, but inside the store the pandemonium was much worse. In fact, it chilled him to the bone.

People swarmed the crowded shop, their arms loaded down with food, bottled water, and toilet paper. Customers were panicked and scared as they pushed each other and fought for items on the shelf. But the most striking thing was the way all these people looked.

Everyone’s skin had taken on an unnatural shade of gray, the skin around their eyes was black, and their eyes were wide and bulging.

Nick backed up, his hand on the door as he got one last look before exiting. He decided he could go without beer today.

He climbed back in his truck, the scene still haunting him. That’s not just some little bug going around, he thought. That’s serious.

His mind immediately flashed to the hunting lodge. Several years ago, he and his brother had inherited a hunting lodge 350 miles north of his home in El Paso. Nick and Kaitlyn had been planning to move their little family to the comfortable house in northern New Mexico next year. Their dream was to escape the city and create a homestead in the mountains – the wild, high-altitude land they loved. Nick's brother Tim and his family would join them eventually, and they would build a second house for the two families.

The only thing holding Nick and Kaitlyn back was reaching their goal of a certain amount of savings to provide a buffer while they moved toward a self-sufficient homestead.

But maybe it was time to go sooner than they’d planned. This bug, this Hosta virus as they were calling it, seemed to be much more serious than anyone had anticipated. Nick wasn’t sure if the virus was fatal or not, but he didn’t want to keep his family around long enough to find out.

He drove along the highway access road, but didn't enter the on ramp. The highway was backed up. It looked like several accidents were blocking traffic. People were driving erratically. In fact, just a few blocks away, he saw a car swerve off the road and crash into a light pole, as if the driver had just lost all control.

He passed by a supermarket on his way home. It was even busier than the corner store, and the parking lot was pure chaos. Cars swerving, people pushing carts loaded down with bottled water and packaged foods. Weak, sick people stumbling around in various stages of illness and confusion. He thought he saw only a few people that looked like they could still be healthy, but it was hard to tell from a distance.

He was glad he didn't need anything from the store. There was enough at home for now, and there was plenty more waiting for them at the lodge in New Mexico.

The closer he got to his house, the more convinced he became that leaving El Paso was the right thing to do. At the very least, they needed to flee the city and take refuge where there was less risk of catching the virus. They could return when things had settled down. He was sure Kaitlyn would agree with him – maybe she was already thinking the same thing.

He was resolute as he neared his home. Once inside, he’d call Kaitlyn and finalize the plans. She could leave work early and pick up Owen on the way home. In the meantime, he could start getting everything ready and they would be on the road in a couple of hours, arriving at the lodge before dark.

He pulled into the driveway and clicked the garage door open. He was surprised to see Kaitlyn’s car parked there already, but he figured that the office where she worked must have closed for the day.

“Kaitlyn!” he called into the silent house as he walked through the door from the garage.

He walked through the kitchen and living room, calling for her. When he opened the bedroom door, he stopped in his tracks.

Kaitlyn was in bed, her eyes shut and a pained expression on her face. She opened her eyes to see him, and Nick immediately saw terror in her gaze. His stomach tightened as their eyes met.

Her skin had taken on the same sickly shade of gray he had seen in the workers and the people at the store.

He was too late.

2

September 2

Liz Murphy stumbled down the narrow steps that descended from her second-floor studio apartment to her car in the parking lot, yawning and nearly dropping her phone as she tried to stuff it in her purse. Like most mornings, she was only awake enough to slip into her car and get herself into auto pilot to drive downtown to her job as a barista.

Ironically, she didn't drink coffee. Never had. It made her nervous. But she liked the smell of it, and a job was hard to find in her city, so she didn't mind working in a coffee shop. The early mornings were the worst, though.

It was a warm day, and she rode with the windows down to enjoy the fresh air. Though she hated dragging herself out of bed at this hour, she had to admit that there was something nice about being out and about while most people were still asleep.

Except that today, the streets were even more empty than usual. Liz saw just a few cars out on the highway, a fact that only dimly registered in her groggy brain. Must be some bank holiday or other, she thought.

Since she had graduated from college last year and started juggling service industry jobs, she couldn't keep up with the days off everyone else seemed to have. She had to work nearly every holiday and weekend, so she often lost track of the rest of the world and their schedules.

She pulled into the parking lot behind the coffee shop, parking her old Honda Civic next to Frank's truck. She noticed Madison's car wasn't in its usual place, which was odd. Liz figured it was the first time she had beat her go-getter co-worker to work.

The fresh air had revived her a little, and she felt awake and ready to face another day of serving fancy drinks to customers.

She pushed open the heavy back door and went to clock in at the shift computer, but she noticed it wasn't on. She knew her control freak boss wouldn't want her to turn it on herself, as if she were incapable of powering on a computer. So she went to knock on his office door.

"Frank?" she called.

"Come in," he said after a moment's pause.

"The shift computer's not on," Liz began impatiently, but Frank gestured at her to be quiet.

"Frank," she repeated, annoyed.

He pointed at the TV his eyes were glued to, then held his finger to his lips to indicate she shouldn't speak.

Liz sighed. If she was at work, she wanted to be compensated for her time. Instead of wasting minutes watching TV in Frank's office, she should be clocking in for her shift and getting started on the day’s tasks. But when she heard the urgency in the TV newscaster's voice, she began to pay attention.

"Albuquerque public schools have all been closed until further notice. Mayor Sykes says this is purely a precautionary measure until health workers can control spread of the virus. There have only been isolated cases of the Hosta virus, but local officials are working around the clock to contain its spread. Mayor Sykes urges citizens to remain calm."

But the newscaster didn’t seem very calm, with her shaky voice and disheveled hairstyle. The report abruptly ended, and her image was quickly replaced by an advertisement. Frank turned the television off without a word.

"They're making such a big deal out of this virus," Liz said after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

Frank sat still, looking down at his hands. Liz stared at his back, waiting for his response, hoping he'd agree with her.

"I mean, closing all the schools? Isn't that a little extreme?"

But she knew she was wrong as she spoke the words. She'd heard talk of this virus for a few days and had seen some disturbing images of sick people in other cities. Like most unpleasant things, she had tried to ignore the Hosta virus, but that was becoming harder to do.

She had to admit she had been a little out of the loop with current events – especially since yesterday had been her day off, and she had spent it disconnected from the outside world.

To be honest, she had been feeling a little down lately, a little disillusioned with how her life hadn’t turned out the way she had planned since graduation. So she had spent her day off sleeping late, reading, and watching movies. She hadn’t even left her apartment, called a friend, or looked at her email or social media.

"It's a serious illness," Frank said quietly, bringing her back to the present. "They have to stop its spread."

"But just a few people have it here in Albuquerque," Liz said, clinging to the hope that the fear was unfounded. "Only a few isolated cases. They just said so on the news."

"They're lying," Frank said.

He swiveled around in his chair, and for the first time Liz could see his face clearly. She gasped to look at him.

His skin had developed an unnatural shade of gray, and his eyes were rimmed in dark circles.

"Wow, Frank, are you OK?"

"I woke up feeling a little off today. Let's hope it's just allergies."

"Yeah, it’s probably all the pollen out now," Liz said, not at all convinced, and feeling fear grip her stomach.

"By the way, where's Madison?"

"Called in sick," Frank said flatly.

"Oh," Liz breathed.

"I'm closing the shop today," Frank said, and pushed himself to his feet. He stumbled, then caught himself.

"You sure you're OK?" Liz asked again.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Gonna go sleep this off at home," Frank muttered. "And that's where you should be: home."

"OK." Liz nodded. Suddenly she wanted to follow his advice and leave the darkened coffee shop immediately.

"Take home the baked goods from the case," Frank said. "The bakery didn't deliver today, but there's a bunch of day-old muffins and bagels."

"I have food in my apartment, Frank," Liz protested.

"Just take it. And grab a case of bottled water while you're at it."

Liz started to argue, but something made her think better of it, and she moved to the front of the store to gather up the items. There were a lot of baked goods; the shop must not have had many customers the day before.

"Thanks Frank," she said, making her way back to the rear exit. "I'll pay you back for this stuff."

"Don't worry about it, Liz," he said, waiting for her to exit the building as he locked the door behind her. "You just lay low for a few days while this whole thing blows over."

She nodded, stashing the things in her car.

"Good luck," he said, his voice sounding a little weak as he staggered to his truck.

Liz avoided the highway and took the more direct route since there was so little traffic today. There were just a few cars out, and most of the businesses were closed.

She decided to stop by her best friend Sarah’s house. Liz hadn’t heard from her in a couple of days, and she wanted to make sure she wasn’t sick with whatever was going around. Sarah was never one to ask for help when she needed it, and her husband Victor was away on a business trip that week.

Sarah’s car was parked out in front of her two-bedroom home, but there was no answer at the door. After receiving no response to the text messages she sent to her friend, she used the spare key Sarah had given her to let herself in.

“Sarah?” Liz called through the quiet home.

“I’m in here,” her friend called from the bedroom weakly.

Liz found Sarah lying in bed, looking miserable. As Liz approached, she saw the gray tint to her skin. A chill ran down her spine.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

She managed a weak smile. “I’ve been better.”

Liz could feel the heat coming off her friend as she took her hand. She was on fire.

“Come on, let’s get you to the doctor.”

“No,” Sarah protested. “I won’t go there. I’m not going to die in a hospital.”

“Who said anything about dying?” Liz asked. “You need medicine.”

“No, I’m staying right here,” she insisted.

Sarah had always been stubborn about seeing doctors.

“Besides,” she said, propping herself up on a pillow. “Victor’s coming home tonight. I’ll be OK when he gets here.”

“What about his conference?” Liz asked.

“Canceled. Everyone’s sick in Dallas. His flight lands this afternoon.”

Liz gulped. Things must be really bad if Victor was coming home. It meant his company would lose a lot of money.

“I’m scared, Liz,” Sarah said. “This flu is crazy. I feel terrible, and everyone I know is getting sick.”

She paused and looked up at Liz.

“Everyone except you.”

Liz squeezed Sarah’s hand. “It’s going to be OK,” she said, trying to stay optimistic. The truth was, her friend looked terrible.

She tried her best to make Sarah comfortable, offering her food and drink. Sarah only wanted a few sips of water, then fell asleep.

Grabbing Sarah’s phone, Liz texted and called Victor and Sarah’s family in Silver City. No one picked up or responded. She called every hospital in town. Half of them told her the same thing: they were at capacity and could accept no new patients. The other half didn’t answer the phone.

Finally, she tried 911. It was busy.

Liz slid down the wall and fell in a heap on the floor as the realization sank in: There was no one to help her.

3

September 3

It took Liz a moment to realize where she was. She opened her eyes after just a few short hours of sleep and looked around. She was in Sarah’s spare bedroom.

Liz had spent the night caring for her friend. As she watched helplessly, Sarah had grown weaker and more disoriented, and it pained Liz to see her in such agony. She had begged Sarah to go to the hospital, thinking that maybe a doctor would see her if she showed up in person at the clinic, despite the phone operator telling her they were closed. But Sarah refused, and she was too weak to walk to the car anyway.

Victor had never arrived or responded to Liz’s attempts to contact him, which worried Liz to no end. It was very unlike Victor to disappear like this. She had also called Sarah’s parents dozens of times, but no one answered. Were they all sick with the same thing?

After writhing in pain for hours while Liz tried to bring her raging fever down with wet wash cloths, Sarah had finally fallen into a more peaceful state of semi-sleep. Liz took the opportunity to get some sleep herself. Now, she needed to see how her friend was doing.

Liz got out of bed and crept through the silent house, the place where she and her friend had shared so many evenings watching movies, laughing and drinking wine. She pushed the master bedroom door open, terrified to enter the room but compelled to do so.

She shrieked, turning her head away. Sarah lay dead in her bed, twisted and gray. Most disturbing of all, her mouth had frozen in a wide grin. She seemed to have died while smiling.

Liz ran outside, gasping for air.

This can't be happening. Can't be.

She vomited in the flower beds, feeling dizzy and scared. She fell on the grass, sobbing. How could Sarah be dead? How could it have happened so fast? She had lost the person closest to her in the world, and she didn’t know what she would do.

When she caught her breath again, she looked up and down the street. It was dead silent, despite there being many cars parked in driveways, which itself was odd for a weekday morning.

Liz needed to tell someone about Sarah. There would be arrangements to make, and she couldn't face her friend's dead body alone.

She spotted the next-door neighbor's car parked in its driveway. She knocked on the front door a couple of times. There was no answer at that door, or at the doors at any of the four neighbors she tried. It filled Liz with dread, but she couldn’t make sense of why or what was happening. Her best friend was dead, and it was difficult to think clearly.

She walked back inside the house and into the bedroom. Sarah needed to be covered up. Liz pulled a bed sheet over her friend's body, closed the door, and walked in a daze to the living room.

Liz again tried 911. No answer. Then she dialed every number she could think of -- other friends, Frank, her co-workers. No one was answering the calls.

Every number she tried was busy. Something must be wrong with the phone lines.

But even as she tried to explain it away, she knew it was probably more than a simple mix-up with the phone lines. She shuddered.

It's as if everyone died last night.

Liz herself had no family left. Her parents and brother had passed away in a car accident years ago, hit by a drunk driver. She had felt like the world was over when it happened. The loneliness had enveloped her after their deaths.

Those same feelings came rushing back to her now. The fear, the crushing solitude.

What would she do now?

She had to leave this silent house, this silent neighborhood. She had to find someone else alive, or she feared for her sanity.

She got into her car and drove through the empty neighborhood, turning onto a larger street a few blocks away.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a woman walking on the sidewalk. Finally, another living person.

Liz slowed down as she approached and her heart sank as she got a better look. The woman looked dazed and weak, with the same gray tint to her skin that she had seen in Frank and Sarah.

Liz braked and came to a stop. She couldn’t leave the obviously sick woman to fend for herself. A fleeting worry about catching whatever the woman had passed through her mind, and she scoffed at it. After all, she had spent hours at Sarah’s bedside, and she had stood just a few feet from Frank in an enclosed office. If the Hosta virus was so contagious, Liz was probably already infected, she realized with a pit in her stomach. Might as well help someone in need.

She reversed her Honda and stopped in front of the woman, shifting the gear stick to neutral.

"Do you need some help?"

The woman seemed confused, as if she wasn't sure where Liz's voice was coming from. Finally her eyes fell on Liz, and relief appeared on her sick face.

"Doctor," the woman muttered weakly. "Need doctor. Dying."

Liz jerked the parking brake up, then got out of the car and approached the woman. Her breath caught in her lungs. The woman smelled horribly, like decay. And she was on fire. Liz could feel the heat coming off her body like an oven.

"I can take you to the hospital," Liz offered, opening the passenger door. “They weren’t accepting anyone when I called yesterday, but we can try anyway.”

The woman didn't reply, but slowly reached out to grip the door and hoisted her frail body into the seat.

“Is your family...” Liz started to ask, but didn't know how to complete her question.

“Dead,” the woman muttered as she collapsed in the seat.

Liz drove off, eyeing the sick woman, who seemed to be getting sicker by the minute.

Liz felt her stomach drop.

The hospital was not far, and she arrived quickly. But she was disappointed to see a road block obstructing her entrance. Liz craned her neck to read the sign attached to the barricade.

CLOSED – TRY RED CROSS – 45th STREET

Liz made a quick U-turn and sped off. The Red Cross was at least a couple of miles away, and her passenger was wilting.

They were only a couple of blocks down the road when the woman made some kind of sound -- a cry or a whimper. Liz, who had been scared to glance at the woman again since leaving the hospital, looked over to see the woman's face opening into a big grin. Liz realized what the sound was. The dying woman was laughing.

Liz eyed her curiously, chilled to see the woman so happy. The woman began to mumble something under her breath.

"What?" Liz asked, flashing her eyes back and forth between the road and the passenger.

But the woman didn't answer. She mumbled a few more words, then she grew silent, grinning like a crazy person. She stared without blinking into space, as if she could see something just in front of her face.

It was creeping Liz out, and she stepped on the gas, no longer bothering to even slow down at the empty intersections. She couldn't bring herself to look at the woman again.

She swerved into the Red Cross parking lot, which was full of parked cars. She stopped right in front of the entrance, jumped out, and ran inside the building.

The scene made her gasp. There were beds and stretchers with bodies everywhere. Some bodies were moving, some weren't. The horrible smell that hit her in the face made it clear that death was all around.

She spotted some kind of health worker moving through the chaos, wearing a mask and protective clothing.

"I need help," Liz called. "I've got a sick woman in my car. I found her out on the road, looking for a doctor."

The worker glanced up briefly but didn't stop what he was doing. "How far along is she?" he asked as he pushed a gurney with a lifeless body to the side of the room.

The man's voice sounded weak, and Liz could detect a tinge of gray in his face even with the mask on. He was sick, too.

"She's gray, and hot, and..." Liz paused, remembering the haunting image of the woman smiling like a lunatic.

"Is she smiling? Laughing?"

Liz gulped. "Yes."

"She doesn't have much longer," he said. "That happens right at the end. Drive around back and there are some guys who can help you."

Liz left without a word, too struck by the horrific scene to speak. She got back in her car, careful to not look directly at the woman, who was unmoving and silent. Liz knew that the woman was already gone, but she couldn't bring herself to look at her face.

Behind the building there were two men wearing gas masks and wheeling a stretcher with a body covered by a sheet. They looked up at the sound of Liz's car, and directed her to park at the edge of the parking lot.

One of them opened the passenger side door and checked the lifeless woman's pulse.

"Is she a relative of yours?" he asked Liz.

Liz shook her head. "I don't know her. Just saw her walking down the street and I tried to take her to the hospital. She said her family's... um, dead."

"She's dead now, too. We've got too many bodies to bury at the moment. We'll have to burn her with the rest. That's what we're doing with the ones who don't have family left to claim them."

Horrified, Liz turned away as the two men lifted the body out of her car and took it behind another, smaller building. She caught a glimpse of what looked to be a huge pile of bodies in the dirt. Shocked, she quickly looked away.

Liz stood beside her car, alone and dazed. One of the men began to return toward the main building, pushing the empty stretcher over the parking lot.

"Do they all go like that?" she asked. "You know, smiling like that?"

"As far as I've seen, yeah," he answered bleakly. "Grinning, laughing, carrying on. Like they're in ecstasy right before it happens. It's the craziest thing."

He continued walking, then stopped when Liz spoke again.

“What's happening?” Liz asked, her voice trembling. "This is crazy."

The guy squinted at her. "It's the Hosta virus. It's spreading all over the world.”

"I know it's the Hosta virus, but I didn't know it was killing people like this."

"People are dying all over this city, kid," the guy said. "All over the world. Where've you been? Living under a rock?"

Liz was silent. Other than Sarah, she had been alone in the world for years. And now she was truly alone.

"I guess I don't really keep up with the news. I'd heard people talking about the bug, but I didn't think much of it."

The man shook his head sadly. "Yeah, we kept thinking it'd go away. Or they'd find a cure."

"But where did the virus come from? How did this begin?"

"The news folks say it got started in Europe; it was some virus they were researching and it got out of hand. It's spread by everything -- air, food, water. They say it has a two or three day incubation period before you start to show signs of it. Then once you have the first symptoms you die within one to three days. So far me and Paul back there are symptom-free. Knock on wood it stays like that. I guess some folks are naturally immune. Not many, though."

The man looked over his shoulder to make sure no one else could hear them, and he lowered his voice. "But if you ask me, I think it's all a big conspiracy. I think it was a biological weapon someone was developing, and it got out of hand. It spread too fast, and now it's out of control. Somebody sure dropped the ball on this one."

Liz blinked, too overwhelmed and shocked to speak for a moment. Her mind returned to the most immediate problem she had: Sarah's lying dead in her house.

“My best friend is dead,” Liz said. “I can't contact her husband or her family. I don't know what to do with...”

Her voice trailed off.

“With her body?” the man asked. “Not much you can do but leave her or bring her here. Or you can bury her.”

The man looked again at Liz.

“Are you all on your own? You got any family or friends left? It's not good for you to be alone now.”

Liz swallowed. “I'll be all right,” she said, trying to convince herself.

“Are you sure?” he asked again.

She nodded, then turned toward the car door. “I've got to go. Thanks for your help.”

The guy shook his head a little as he returned to his work. “Be careful out there.”

Liz drove home to her apartment in a daze. Once inside the tiny studio, she stood in the middle of the room, looking around at her things. She felt paralyzed, but she knew she would have to formulate some kind of plan. Taking care of Sarah was only the beginning. She would have to find a way to survive in this empty new world.

But for now, she was exhausted, and she crawled into bed and closed her eyes. Suddenly, the need for sleep eclipsed every other concern.

4

Nick sat on the ground, warm from the late morning sun, and leaned against the shed. He looked at the mound of earth a few feet away, and felt an unbearable weight pressing down on him. He felt that weight would be there forever. The world no longer made any sense.

He had taken Kaitlyn to the hospital that first day she had come home sick from work. She had spent a few hours sharing a room with a bunch of other sick, gray people, waiting to be seen. The doctors gave her antibiotics and painkillers, but they were scared. Nick could see it in their eyes. No one had any cure for this, and people were starting to die. He had to get her out of there.

She wanted above all to keep Owen from catching it. Nick arranged for their son to stay with Kaitlyn's parents, who lived across town. Then he brought his wife home. There was nothing he could do for her besides keep her as comfortable as possible. He watched, anguished, as she writhed and mumbled in bed, growing weaker by the hour.

Then his mother-in-law had called yesterday morning. Kaitlyn's parents had gotten sick, and Owen had it too. It was then that Nick knew his world was ending. There was no escape from this thing.

He brought Owen home and laid him gently in the child's bed to sleep. He never told Kaitlyn that their little boy was ill. Not that it would have mattered. By that time, his wife had grown delirious. Smiling and laughing, suspended in some kind of la-la land. Finally, it was over, and he pulled the sheet over her, saying goodbye to her beautiful face one last time. She had been the love of his life, and he had never thought it would end so soon.

Nick had spent the night caring for Owen, trying to ease his pain and bring the fever down. But his efforts were in vain. Nick's precious son had followed his mother the next morning.

He looked over at the mound of dirt, nearly choking with grief. He had placed two crosses at the grave and picked some of the flowers from Kaitlyn's garden to lay on the mound. He had said a prayer, asking for his family to be at peace, asking for forgiveness for his inability to save them.

Now, slumped against his tool shed, he wiped the beads of sweat from his brow. He had planned for their future for so long, but not this. Never this.

He and Kaitlyn had been preparing for a move to the New Mexico lodge for years. They considered the off-grid home in the mountains as not only the key to their future homestead and a simpler life, but also as a place to survive the collapse of society.

For a long time, they had both suspected something would happen to unravel modern civilization -- loss of power systems, nuclear attack, collapse of the economy – maybe all three. And he knew living in a city would not be an ideal location for watching the world crumble around them.

Instead, they planned to move north as soon as they had enough money shored up to quit their jobs. The remote lodge was situated in the mountains of northern New Mexico. It was a comfortable lodge, big enough for his family as well as his brother Tim’s family, who lived in East Texas. The lodge had belonged to their grandfather, and Nick and Tim had made a trip at least once a year to hunt there since they were boys.

It was well-equipped, with lots of rations, a water supply, land for hunting, and a meadow with open space to one day grow some food. Each time they went, they worked to stock it with canned and dried food, supplies, and tools. Little by little, they prepared to get the lodge ready to support their families. The ultimate goal had always been to set up a homestead and become self sufficient.

Of course, they would need startup money. Nick had been working hard as a construction contractor, and Kaitlyn as a human resources manager, to shore up savings. They planned to save enough to quit their day jobs and move out to live at the lodge. Their dream had been to live a simple life off the land, apocalypse or no apocalypse.

And they had been so close to their dream. Just a few more months and they would have been able to relocate to the cool mountains to the north.

If only they had left sooner, his family might still be alive. Maybe they could have been safe from the virus in the isolated lodge.

But it was all too late. Now, nothing much mattered at all.

Nick sprang to his feet and charged into the house, throwing the back door open and letting it slam shut.

Storming into the bathroom, he stopped in front of the mirror, his shoulders hunched as he bent forward to examine his face. After surveying his skin and eyes for any sign of illness, he pounded his fist on the counter.

There was no gray, no bulging eyes, no dark circles. He looked and felt as healthy as ever. That meant there was no way out of his anguish.

The only things that mattered to him had been taken away from him, and he would have to face living without them. It's what she would have wanted, he thought. I have to go on living for her.

He stalked out into the living room, and saw their things everywhere. Kaitlyn's sweater and purse on the couch. Some of Owen's science fiction books strewn about.

He knew he had to leave his house behind, and soon. There was nothing left for him in this home. He couldn't face the ghost of his old life.

And besides, if this virus was killing people all over, he knew that the city would be no place to hang around for long. Law and order would deteriorate fast, and he didn't want to stick around to watch it happen.

He would leave tomorrow. But first he had to make some preparations.

He walked to the safe in his bedroom and unlocked it. He took out his Glock 17 and looked it over. He holstered it, and then he grabbed his keys.

His neighborhood was strangely quiet as he drove through it in his Ford truck. Normally there would be people coming and going at this time of day, but he saw no one.

The small gas station near the highway was deserted. There were a couple of stationary cars though – they had crashed into each other. One of the drivers sat slumped over in his seat, dead.

Nick was relieved to find that his credit card still worked, as if nothing had changed. The quiet city street made it clear that everything was different, though. No cars passed, and he only heard the sound of some animal rooting around the trash outside the gas station. He saw a cat jump down from the dumpster and run across the parking lot. At least the virus hadn't killed off all the animals. He wondered how many were left.

As he filled his tank, he noticed another smell behind the usual odor of gasoline. It was the smell of the dead. The city must be full of the virus victims, deteriorating in the heat. Shuddering, he filled his tank, along with a few extra gas cans, and drove off.

Back at his house, Nick did some preliminary things right away. He filled up every container he could with tap water. Then he took a shower, washing the grime of the day off his body.

He sliced up all the steaks they had in the fridge and freezer, and got the thin strips drying in the dehydrator to make beef jerky. Hopefully the power wouldn't go out for a while.

He found some chicken and chopped vegetables in the fridge and made a big stir-fry. He ate two generous helpings of it along with some leftover rice, then two big bowls of ice cream. He was ravenous. Besides, if the power went out soon, there would be no way to keep that food from going bad anyway.

As he ate, he looked at his phone. He'd been trying to reach his parents out in Tyler, Texas all day, but there was no answer. The last time he had talked to his mom was yesterday morning. Her voice was weak, and she told him that both she and his father were ill with the virus. He couldn't leave Kaitlyn to go to them, and his mom understood. They both knew it would be the last time they would speak. She had no news of his brother, Tim.

He called a few of his buddies, some co-workers. He tried his in-laws. No one answered their phones. He decided to stop by Kaitlyn's folks' house on his way out of town tomorrow. He told himself he would just check up on them, but he knew they were already dead.

His phone had received several alerts throughout the day. Most were from the local and state government telling people to remain calm but stay in their houses until the virus was contained.

He looked at his news feed. Two days ago it had been full of people's updates of the health status of family members and asking of the whereabouts of friends. As the days wore on, the tone of the updates became panicked, crazed. People were starting to see what the disease could do, and they were terrified.

That afternoon, there were no posts from his friends at all. Just the same government alerts that had been sent to his phone. He set the phone down and plugged it in to charge.

After his meal, he looked around at the empty house. There was so much to do before he could leave in the morning. His mind raced, thinking of a plan. But before he could tackle the first task, a crippling fatigue overtook him. He could think of nothing more than lying down, and he stumbled into the bedroom where he collapsed in his bed. He told himself he’d just sleep for a few hours, then get to work. Burrowing his face in his wife's pillow, he shut his eyes and fell into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

5

Jessa Hayward stamped out the small campfire she had made to cook her breakfast of oatmeal and coffee. The remains of the pinyon pine smoldered, leaving its fragrant smoke to linger in the air. It was a gorgeous, blue sky day. The high-altitude sun cast sharp shadows on the pine needle-carpeted ground.

She had already packed up her gear, ready to return to civilization after five days in the wilderness. She always felt a little sad leaving the mountains and returning to her small city, but she did look forward to a shower and clean clothes.

She grabbed her radio and tried once again to contact the Pecos Ranger Station. It was part of her job as a wilderness park ranger to maintain contact twice a day with the base, but no one had answered her signal for two days. Today was no different.

Her radio was working fine. It was the people at the ranger station she was worried about. The last person she talked to sounded ill, and it had been hard to make out what he was saying.

Jessa would have to wait till she got back at the ranger station to talk to anyone and give her updates.

It had been a productive work trip. She'd done some trail repair in the Sawtooth loop and some erosion control around Echo Lake. She felled a dead tree leaning dangerously over one of the campsites at Katherine Lake. Rangers weren't supposed to fell trees alone, but it needed to come down. Hell, rangers weren't really supposed to go out on multi-day work trips alone, but Jessa didn't care.

She didn't always follow the rules.

Especially not now. Especially not after the department manager, Cindy, had given the job everyone knew should have gone to Jessa -- to the guy Cindy was sleeping with. Rick. Rick, who had two years less experience than Jessa and who couldn't navigate his way out of a supermarket. Now Rick was head ranger. What a joke, she thought bitterly.

So Jessa pretty much did her own thing now. She stayed under the radar enough to not get in trouble, but she was done kowtowing to bureaucracy. She did what she needed to do. She loved her job, and she was just fine doing it on her own.

All in all, her solo work trip had been good. But it had also been very... strange. After the first day in, she hadn't seen anyone else. At this time of year there were usually at least a few visitors hiking around or camping at the campsites, especially on the lake. But other than a couple of hikers near the trail head when she first set out, it had been eerily quiet.

She wondered if it was that brutal virus that was going around. Some kind of flu on steroids. It had made a lot of people really sick in Europe and Asia by the time she left for her five-day wilderness trip, but she had no reason to think it would affect her little corner of the world. Northern New Mexico felt mostly isolated from the insanity she saw on the news, and she didn't think it would strike Santa Fe, where she lived.

But on her second day out in the woods on her solo backpacking trip, the radio dispatcher told her that people were getting sick. Jessa could barely hear the operator. His voice sounded so distant and weak.

By the evening of the third day no one answered. Could everyone be home sick? Was the flu really that bad?

On the fourth day, she started her way back toward the station as planned. But by that point, she was deep into the mountains, traveling on foot. Since she was working in a Forest Service wilderness area, there were no roads and no vehicles -- not until she left the zone’s boundary, where her truck was parked. There was no way out but walking.

Just a few more miles to go today, and she'd leave the non-motorized area and get to her ranger truck parked at the trail head. The she would drive to the station and find out what was going on.

She halfway considered staying in the woods to wait out the virus. She didn't want to catch that thing. But that didn't make any sense at all -- her food supply was low, and she couldn't hide out forever. Besides, her immune system was like a fortress. She never caught any of the bugs going around. She'd probably get lucky this time, too.

She made it to the truck before noon, heaving her large backpack loaded down with camping gear and work tools into the back. She was starving, and she wanted to finish the closing procedures at the ranger station quickly. She could almost taste the juicy burgers at the restaurant in Pecos.

Her shoulder length blond hair whipped around in its ponytail as she drove with the windows down. She was always amazed at how fast driving speeds felt after traveling on foot for five days.

The parking lot was nearly empty when she pulled into the ranger station.

They must all be home sick, she thought. She noted that Rick and Cindy's cars were gone, and she was relieved she wouldn't have to talk to those two. Just a few quick papers to fill out and she'd be on her way to chowing down a couple of burgers and tossing back a beer.

She pushed open the back door and stepped inside.

A noxious smell collided with her senses, and she stopped in her tracks. She knew instantly that something was very wrong here.

There was no noise, no movement, and she called out, breaking the silence. No one answered her.

She took the stairs down to the basement, where the wilderness crew worked, tucked away in a little corner and forgotten. Stepping into the large room, she heard a scream, realizing a second later that it had come from her own mouth.

There was a dead body on the floor.

She stopped screaming, the shock shaking her body, and inched toward the body. Its face was turned away from Jessa, but she could tell it was dead from the impossible way it was twisted up. The person was lying in a pool of some kind of liquid -- perhaps its own bodily fluids, she realized with a lurch.

Getting closer, she could see the skin had turned an unearthly shade of greenish gray. As she came within sight of the face, she stopped. It was Simon, another wilderness ranger.

And his face was frozen into a deranged smile, wide, toothy and insane.

A wave of nausea came over Jessa, and she fled the room, terrified.

She flew up the stairs, calling out for help. Racing into the upper-level offices, she went from room to room, searching for anyone.

When she reached the front desk, she stopped in her tracks. There were three more bodies, strewn about in unnatural, twisted up positions, and grinning in the same distorted way as Simon.

Jessa ran out the door, whimpering and mumbling incoherently. Her heart was pounding, and she was fighting the urge to throw up. Spotting the emergency call phone, she ran to it, but found the line to be dead. It sent a chill through her core.

In full panic mode now, she hopped in her truck and drove off toward Santa Fe. She had to get out of there, away from those dead bodies. She had to tell someone what she had seen.

Most of all, she had to find someone living.

Even though her mind was racing and overwhelmed, some part of her already knew that what awaited her in Santa Fe might not be any better than what she’d seen so far.

6

September 4

Liz woke up feeling hungrier than she had ever been in her life. She didn't know what day it was, and the low light outside her window could mean daybreak or late afternoon.

She fumbled on her nightstand for her phone, and tried to turn it on, but it was dead. Still disoriented, she stumbled into the kitchen and tried to switch a light on. The power was out.

It was then that the horrible events of the previous day came back to her, and she felt the fear wash over her again. It hadn't been a nightmare.

The hunger drove her to the kitchen. She ate a hearty breakfast of a little of everything in her fridge, knowing that it wouldn't last long without electricity. As the sun rose in the sky, she reckoned it to be around 7 am.

She had slept for a long time – around 18 hours, she realized with surprise – but she had needed it. Her body felt revived despite the fear and loneliness overwhelming her.

Liz was certain of one thing: she didn't feel physically ill in the least. She looked over her hands and arms, then examined her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Everything looked normal. No signs of the Hosta virus that she could detect.

She didn't know if that meant she would catch the virus later. Or would she be one of the immune the man at the Red Cross had mentioned?

The tap was still running, thankfully. She looked at the case of bottled water Frank had given her. She was glad to have it, but if the power was out, she didn't know how long she'd have running water. She filled up all the empty bottles, pitchers, and containers she could find. She didn't know what to make of the power outage, but it definitely was a worrying sign.

Liz got dressed and ventured outside, afraid of what she might see outside her apartment but knowing she would have to face it sooner or later.

Just like at Sarah's house, most of the driveways had cars parked in front. The only sounds were some birds chirping, but she heard no cars or noise from her neighbors. The idea that so many had died was difficult to accept. How could this be happening? She asked herself the question over and over, but nothing was making sense.

She walked to her car and got in. She had to return to Sarah's house. Maybe Victor had survived, and would be at the house now. He would know what to do, she told herself. The thought was reassuring.

Driving out of her neighborhood, Liz was shocked to see wrecked cars everywhere. People seemed to have lost control of their vehicles, crashing into buildings and each other. She caught glimpses of dead bodies in the cars, and she tried not to look. She saw no moving cars on the road.

Victor didn't come to the door when Liz knocked. She had a bad feeling as she used her key to once again let her in the house.

The smell of decay hit her right away, and Liz's heart pounded in her chest.

"Victor?" she called out. There was no response as she entered the empty home. Victor wasn't there – maybe he had never made it to his flight.

Gunshots cracked in the distance, startling her.

Guess I'm not the only one still alive, she thought.

She thought of the massive heap of bodies behind the Red Cross and shuddered. All the crashed cars on the road. And so many cars eerily parked in front of newly silent houses. Judging from what she had already seen, she had to face the possibility that everyone she knew might be dead.

Liz looked at the closed bedroom door and shuddered. She'd have to do something with the body herself.

But after that -- what would she do? Where would she go?

The gunshots rang out again, this time a little closer.

If this crazy virus had killed off most of the city, leaving her and just a few other people, society would simply break down. Already the power and cell phones had gone out. Water would be next. Her small pantry full of non-perishable goods -- and the day-old baked goods Frank had given her -- wouldn't last long.

She anxiously considered that there would be no one to enforce the law. Maybe it had already reached that point -- the gunshots sure made it seem that way. There would be looting and theft. And she didn't want to think about what else.

She would have to leave Albuquerque. She didn't know where she would go, but she knew there was no future for her there as the city crumbled.

7

Nick groggily looked out the window at the rising sun. It took him a moment to remember all that had happened, and it hit him in the gut. He saw the empty bed, and the pain came flooding back.

He pushed himself out of bed and looked at his wrist watch. He had been asleep for about 12 hours – much longer than he had intended to sleep. It wasn't a good time to be catching up on rest, but his body had needed it.

He flipped the light switches to no avail. The power was off. He checked on the beef jerky. Luckily, it had dried out before losing electricity. He bagged up the valuable, shelf stable protein source.

The food in the fridge was still cold and had not gone bad, so he finished off the leftovers from the day before. He was hungry, and he knew he'd need some calories to face what lay before him.

He got to work immediately. He didn't know what he would encounter on the road between the city and his mountain lodge, so he gathered up camping gear. He wouldn't need most of it at the lodge, since it was outfitted with everything to sleep and live in simple comfort. But he wanted to be prepared for the unexpected out on the road.

Making a big pile of gear in the living room, he gathered up a tent, sleeping bag and pad, an ax and a saw for firewood, cook pots and eating implements, ropes, tarps, lanterns and flashlights. He packed many gallons of water and enough food for several days, his pocket knives and sharpener, medical supplies, changes of clothes for warm and cool weather, and toilet paper.

He took his self-built AR-15 and his hunting rifle – a 7mm Remington Magnum – from the safe. He packed the boxes of bulk ammo he had bought. Along with the Glock he wore in his holster, it was likely enough to face whatever he might run into.

Standing in the doorway of the bedroom he had shared with Kaitlyn, he felt his heart clench. She would want this. She would want him to survive.

He gathered up some photos of their life together, a few mementos. The scarf she had knitted him last winter, the love letters they had exchanged when they were dating. He stood in Owen's room and the pain of loss gripped him. He took some artwork his son had made, storing it carefully in a family photo album, and grabbed a couple of Owen's favorite science fiction books. He couldn't bear to leave without taking a few of the things that had meant so much to his son.

With his gun in his holster, he stood in the doorway of his home, looking it over one last time. Then he turned and left, his heart lurching in his chest.

A few hours later, Nick wiped the sweat from his brow. He was getting on the road out of town later than he had hoped.

He'd had to bury Kaitlyn's parents in their backyard. He found them dead in their bed, holding hands. Their faces were plastered with that same grotesque smile that the virus left on everyone. He really didn't have the time to spare, but he knew his wife would want them to be buried.

After finishing the grisly task, he pulled out of the residential neighborhood and passed a group of three teenage boys breaking into a convenience store. They looked up as he drove past, startled to see someone else on the streets. The boys were the first live people he'd seen in days. He kept moving, but kept his gun within reach.

He scanned through the radio in his truck, looking for any signal, but there was none. He had no idea how many people had survived this plague, but he guessed that there was no longer a police force, military, or government. Each person would have to make it on their own.

Nick imagined that things would get worse as people searched for water, food, and supplies. He was glad to be leaving the city. Still, he felt uneasy about the hours that faced him on the road, driving a truck loaded down with precious supplies.

He had never told many people about his lodge in the mountains that he and Kaitlyn had stocked for just such an apocalyptic event. Most people laughed when they found out, dismissing him as a nut. They wanted to believe that the modern way of life would never end. They needed to believe. They could continue to go through their lives mindlessly, reassured that all the modern technology would never fail them. The government would always be there to protect them. The water systems would always pipe potable water to their houses, and there would always be trucks to bring food to their stores from far away -- just waiting to be purchased with plastic cards and processed digitally.

In the end, he had been right -- modern civilization's days were numbered. Of course, he wasn't prepared for a killer virus that would claim his wife and son.

But how could he have prepared for that? No one had been ready for it. Within six days of hearing of the Hosta virus for the first time, most of his city was dead. There was no cure, no immunization, and there was no way to prevent its spread.

But Nick had survived. And those kids robbing the store. And who knew how many others, all over the world, had survived. Had ten percent of the population survived? Five percent? Less?

It was a big, empty world now, and Nick had never before felt so alone.

He took the ramp to enter I-10. There were stopped cars with corpses scattered about that he had to weave his way through. It seemed as if a tide of people had tried to flee El Paso, but had gotten too ill during their escape to continue driving. In every direction, he saw the faces of the dead grinning at him. He tried not to look.

Up ahead, the interstate was impassable. There had been accidents on the overpass, and the cars had just piled up, some of them burned.

He took the exit from the interstate and got on the access road, following along the highway. There were still a few wrecked cars that he had to dodge, but it was at least passable.

Nick was nearly out of the city when he saw movement. A couple of young guys standing next to a parked car waved him down. The guys seemed to be stranded, and they looked harmless, but he touched his gun in its holster, just to make sure it was ready.

Nick pulled his truck up next to them, but kept his engine on.

"Man, are we glad to see you!" the first guy said. He wore a baseball cap and spoke in the neutral accent typical of El Paso.

"Yeah, we're stuck out here in the suburbs," the other guy said. "Ain't nothing around here for miles."

"Nothing but dead bodies, smiling up at you. Creepy as hell."

“Not too many of us left alive,” Nick said. “What can I do for you fellows?"

The second guy, wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, approached the truck. "We need gas. Our car just ran out and died. Can you help us out?"

Nick looked them over, and then opened his door and walked over to the men.

"I don't have any to spare, but I can help you siphon off some gas from that car over there," he said, nodding his head in the direction of an older Buick. "It'll be an important skill to have now, considering the gas stations won't be running without power."

The guy in the black T-shirt peered into the back of Nick's truck, craning his neck to see all the gear. He whistled.

"Looks like you're all stocked up. You got all kinds of useful stuff in this truck. You're all set up for the end of the world, ain't you?"

Nick turned sharply to face them. The kid in the baseball cap looked away, but the other one stared at Nick, who steadily met his gaze.

"Maybe we should just take his truck. What do you say, Brad?"

Brad looked at his partner, then at Nick. The three of them were still, eyes locked, for just a moment. Then Nick reached for his gun as Brad and his partner lunged at him. Nick was just a split second faster, though, and he drew his gun on the young men. They froze, their hands raised.

"Shit, we didn't know you were gonna go all Clint Eastwood on us," the second guy said. "You know we were just joking, right?"

"Like hell you were," Nick said. "Hands on your head. Both of you."

He made the guys march through the parking lot and stand against a building, facing the wall.

Suddenly full of remorse, they whined and pleaded with Nick, who ignored them their pleas. He didn't want to shoot them, but he did want to give them a good scare.

"I'm guessing you're not really out of gas," Nick called out to them as he returned to the truck.

"No, we are," the baseball cap kid called out. "We really are stranded out here."

"Guess you'll be driving out of here in a new car after all. You just gotta pull one of those corpses out of the way."

The kid in the black shirt whined. "Come on, man, leave us some gas. I don't wanna touch them dead bodies!"

"You're lucky you're not dead along with them," Nick said, settling in behind the wheel once more. "I could've shot you for trying to steal my truck. If I see either one of you again, you won't be so lucky."

He drove off, chiding himself for letting his guard down. He'd come so close to losing his vehicle. If there had been more of them, and if they'd had guns, it could have gone much worse.

He'd have to be much more careful from now on. No one was around to stop the criminal elements in the world. And going through something as hellacious as the end of the world was enough to make even good people do crazy things.

This new world he found himself in was already turning to be colder than the one he knew before.

8

Liz looked at her state map, trying to decide where to go. South of her was the Gila National Forest, where she had been camping with friends once or twice before. It was also mostly drier country. She would need to be around fresh sources of water. North of her were mountains with cool creeks and scattered lakes. It was also closer. North it was.

It was already well into the afternoon, and she hated to be getting on the road so late, but she didn't want to stay another night in the city.

She had buried her best friend today. She knew that Victor must already be dead, along with Sarah's family, so it was up to Liz to dispose of the body. It had taken her most of the day, and her muscles already ached from the demanding physical work she was unaccustomed to. Dragging Sarah outside by pulling on the bed sheet she was wrapped in was almost mentally and physically impossible for her, and digging the hole was exhausting. Liz had wanted to give up many times. But she had forced herself to carry the task out to completion, unable to leave her friend lying dead on her bed.

After saying goodbye to Sarah, she had returned home one last time. Now, her car was already loaded and ready to go. She had packed her small assortment of canned and dried food along with what remained of her fresh food, her bottled water, a few changes of her most practical clothes, hiking boots, and some pictures of her family. Luckily, she had a little camping gear that she had inherited from her family -- a tent, a sleeping bag, tarps, a water filter, and cooking gear. It wasn't much, but she had never had much to begin with.

At least it was enough to get her out of the city and away from the gunshots she heard occasionally. What she would find in the woods, and how she would survive when her food ran out, she didn't know. She had been on her own for a while, though, and knew that she would figure out some way to live.

What she didn't have was gasoline. Her car was at a quarter of a tank. Not nearly enough to make it to the mountains to her north. She would have to fuel up somehow.

She locked herself in her Honda and left her deadly silent apartment complex. She was glad to go -- she assumed that her neighbors were lying dead in their apartments all around her, and it gave her an awful feeling.

The two corner stores she drove past had been broken into. There was evidence of other survivors in her city, which made her feel a little better, in a way. At least she wasn't the last person alive, like one of the old black-and-white Twilight Zone episodes that had scared her as a kid.

On the other hand, all the evidence she had of survivors was the broken glass at corner stores and the sound of gunfire in the distance. Her city felt violent and unsafe. She wasn't sure she would want to associate with other survivors of this virus. Hiding out in the mountains sounded like the safest bet.

She found a gas station off I-25. No one had broken into it, and it was deserted. She had been worried about the fuel pumps -- would they work with the electricity shut off? It didn't take her long to confirm that no, they wouldn't.

"Dammit!" she said to no one in particular.

She looked around her. There were a few cars nearby -- some parked, some wrecked. She knew there was a way to siphon gas from vehicles, but she didn't know how. Besides, she had nothing to use to collect the gasoline.

Liz paced around the station. She didn't feel safe being in plain sight like this. She felt vulnerable, and she was worried everyone living had gone crazy without any laws to keep them in check.

Her only means of defense was the pepper spray on her key chain. The spray was two years old, and she had never tested it. She just hoped she wouldn't have to use it.

If only she could fuel up her car and get back on the road, she would feel safer. But without a working gas pump or a way to siphon, that only left one option.

Her eyes fell on the SUV crashed into the light pole a hundred feet away. The vehicle wasn’t damaged too badly. She could make out a corpse behind the wheel, all gnarled and twisted in frozen agony. The keys were no doubt still in the ignition, and with luck, there would be gas in the tank. But it would mean pulling a dead person out from behind the wheel – one that would have a grin on its face.

She looked once more inside the windows of the convenience store, as if she would find some kind of solution behind the barred windows. The shelves were well stocked with the usual snacks, drinks, and magazines. Nothing that would help her in this moment.

She wandered around to the back of the station. There was another building connected to the main store. A couple of wilted potted plants, a couple of old kids' toys. Had someone lived here?

The front door was closed, but there was an open window with the screen exposed behind the security bars.

It wasn't that out of the ordinary for a family to live in a small house like this behind a business in the outskirts of the city, so Liz didn't think it too strange. She assumed the family had died in the house, and the smell confirmed it. It was a thought that spooked her, so she turned to leave.

But out of the corner of her eye as she was turning, she saw it. A tiny movement inside the house.

Liz looked again, moving closer to the screened window. She saw a TV, a beaten up couch, and a pile of empty food wrappers. Nothing. Liz shook her head. This whole situation was really starting to get to her. Playing tricks on her mind.

"A mouse," Liz muttered to herself, hoping the sound of her own voice would help keep her grounded in reality. The world was so quiet now, and she wanted to hear something, even if it meant talking to herself. "It must have been a mouse. Not me losing my mind."

She turned to go, steeling her nerves for the task that lay before her.

"Wait!" a small, high-pitched voice cried.

Liz nearly jumped out of her skin.

She definitely didn't imagine that. And it was the first human voice she'd heard since speaking to Sarah two days ago.

The voice had come from inside the house, she was sure of it. She looked back in the window. Behind a reclining chair, a heap on the floor began to move.

A small child poked her head out from under a blanket behind the chair, looking out at Liz.

"Wait," she repeated quietly.

Liz's fear fell away. It was just a little girl. Most importantly, there was someone else alive. She immediately felt relief, but that soon subsided when she realized this kid must have gone through hell.

"Hi," Liz began, her mouth stumbling over the words. "I'm -- I'm so happy to see you. I haven't seen a live person in days. I can't believe it."

The girl didn't respond, but watched her from her vantage point behind the chair.

"My name is Liz. Are you all right?"

She blinked at Liz, clearly paralyzed with fear.

"I'm alone. Are you alone?" Liz asked, her mouth dry.

The girl stared, then slowly nodded.

"What's your name?"

"Mia," came the response.

"Mia," Liz repeated. "Do you live here?"

She nodded.

"Where are your parents?"

Mia looked toward the back of the house.

"Back there."

"Are -- are they dead?"

Mia nodded, then looked down.

"I'm so sorry, Mia," Liz said, grabbing the window bars and moving her face closer to the screen.

“How long have you been in here with them?”

“Two days.”

Liz felt a lump in her throat looking at the girl, who was clearly traumatized from the experience. She wanted to help her, and she wanted them both to get out of the gas station. They were exposed and vulnerable in their current location.

"Look, we need to get you out of there, OK?"

Mia nodded and cautiously inched forward, moving out from behind the recliner. Then she froze, looking curiously at Liz.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I promise," Liz said. "I can get you out of here. I have a car and I'm leaving the city. Well, if I can find gas, that is."

Mia stared at her, unmoving.

"Do you want to go with me?" Liz asked, trying to keep her anxiety and impatience from scaring the little girl, but also feeling pressed for time as the sun got lower. "I'm going camping up in the mountains. It -- it's the only thing I know to do. We can't stay here."

Mia slowly came to her feet while watching Liz closely. She looked to be about eight years old, but Liz wasn't sure. She hadn't spent much time around children.

"You'll be safe with me," Liz told her in a reassuring voice. She wished she felt a little more sure about that, since Liz herself felt so defenseless. Where would she take this child? What would they eat? How would she protect her? But she would try her best to keep the little girl safe. Leaving Mia alone was not an option.

Mia moved to unlock the door, swinging it open. She stood before Liz in a dirty, tattered dress with no shoes on. Her hair was dark brown and straight, cut to chin length. Her skin was a healthy, olive shade, with no hint of gray.

Liz noticed, however, that the girl had bruises on her arms and legs. The child had survived the virus, but Liz guessed that she had been the victim of her parents' abuse before they died. She decided not to say anything about that, at least not now.

"You never got sick?" Liz asked.

"No," Mia said. "Just my parents."

Liz nodded. Kneeling down to Mia's level, she looked into the girl's clear, brown eyes.

"I'm going to do everything I can to keep us safe. That means getting out of here as fast as possible. OK?"

"OK."

"Do you know how I can get gas? The pumps aren't working."

Mia shook her head. "My dad turned them off the other day because people were driving crazy, crashing into things. But then the power went out, so they wouldn't work anyway."

"He didn't have any gas stored anywhere else?"

"Not anymore. Just the underground tanks are left."

Liz sighed and looked Mia over gently. "Did your parents have a car?"

She nodded and pointed to a Dodge pick-up. It looked old but in good repair.

"Do you know where the keys are?"

Mia reached inside, grabbed the keys from a nail on the wall, and handed them to Liz.

Liz was relieved. Those keys meant she wouldn't have to pull dead bodies out of a wrecked car.

"Why don't you go get some more clothes and whatever else you need?"

"Will you come with me?" Mia asked. "I'm scared to go back there."

Liz followed her into the small, shabby house, trying to breathe through her mouth. The smell was overpowering. They passed by the parents' bedroom, but thankfully the door was closed.

Mia's room was cramped but tidy. Liz watched as the girl threw some thick books, papers, and a few items of clothing in a school backpack. She put on some sneakers with worn-down soles, grabbed a stuffed animal, and looked up at Liz.

"There's one more thing," Mia said, a worried look on her face.

"What?" Liz asked nervously.

Mia turned and ran out of the room, disappearing around the corner. Liz listened as the girl moved about her parents' bedroom. Mia returned a moment later, loudly exhaling as if she had held her breath.

She was carrying a handgun, pointed down, holding the grip between her thumb and fingers as if it were a rat.

"Whoa," Liz said, taking it from the girl slowly, careful to keep it pointing down. It was the first time she had ever touched a gun. She took the box of ammunition Mia handed her as well. She noticed the words .38 Special on the box.

"I thought it might be a good idea to take this," Mia said.

Liz nodded. She hoped she wouldn't have to use it, since she had no idea how to shoot the thing. But maybe just pointing it at a bad guy would be enough, if it ever came to that.

"Ready?"

Mia nodded.

They left the house, leaving the door unlocked behind them, and walked to the truck. It started without a problem, and Liz was relieved to see the tank was nearly full. She drove over to park near her Honda, and quickly transferred all her gear to the pick-up. She safely stored the gun underneath the driver's seat with the barrel pointing away.

They were just about to drive off when Mia stiffened and looked at her, eyes open wide.

Liz froze, and suddenly became aware of the sound of an engine approaching them. She turned around to see a vehicle pulling into the station.

9

A terrible explosion woke Jessa up, disoriented and afraid. She didn't know how long she had been asleep, and for a moment she had forgotten all about before. But another explosion shook the windows of her adobe house, and it all came back to her.

It was the end of the world.

Yesterday had been horrific. After seeing the corpses at the Ranger Station, she had made it to Santa Fe in record time, desperate to see another living person.

At first, she only saw more dead bodies. Driving up Old Pecos Trail, there were dead bodies on the sidewalk and in crashed cars. All had the horrible gray skin and smiles like those at the station. She passed the hospital and its silent, still parking lot full of cars. The hospital's entrance had been closed off. A sign hung from the road block with the address of another hospital nearby. The air was smoky and pungent, and she saw a smoldering heap in the distance. Jessa had never smelled burning flesh before, but she figured that the nauseating odor in the air was coming from that heap. They must have been burning bodies.

She turned on Cerrillos Road toward downtown, and that's when it got really bad. There were burning buildings, more dead bodies, and signs of looting. Broken glass was everywhere. She heard screams and gunshots behind her. It was the first sign of life, and it was not a friendly one.

She finally saw people out on the street, but they looked dangerous. Passing by a large shopping center, she saw a confrontation between two groups of four or five people each. They were facing each other and their body language looked aggressive. Some of them were armed.

So this thing hadn't killed everyone. There were other survivors. But not many. And already it seemed as everyone had turned into savages. Her friend Chris had been right, she supposed. He had always said that people weren't going to be singing "Kumbaya" when the shit hit the fan.

She guessed the same thing was happening in other cities across the nation and the world. After all, the virus had hit Asia and Europe first. Things must have gotten really bad while she had been out of civilization for five days.

She picked up her speed and turned down a side street, trying to avoid the larger roads. She stopped at a co-worker's house on the way, knocking on the doors and windows and calling out. There was no answer, and the house was locked up. She had to assume the worst and moved on sadly.

Her cell phone wasn't working, so she couldn't call her friends. But she figured that if anyone she knew was still alive, they had probably made it out of town into a safer area by now.

Jessa felt a little better as she made her way home. Her neighborhood, on the north edge of town, was quiet and deserted. Thankfully, her little adobe house was still standing and intact.

She was planning to grab only a few things and head back into the woods. The world had gone crazy, what was left of it, and she didn't want to stick around and watch it fall at her feet.

The food in the fridge was warm, but she found some hard cheese and bread that were still good. She tore into it as she moved through her house, gathering up supplies.

Her first thing to grab was her pistol – a Glock 22. She put on her holster and carried the firearm at her hip.

Then she packed up some essentials -- more clothes, some dried fruit and nuts. All her wilderness gear was already in the truck. But the food situation was lacking. She'd had to figure that out later, though.

She was suddenly overcome by exhaustion. She tried to push through it, knowing that it wasn't safe to stay at home. But her body felt like lead, and it was all she could do to stumble into the bedroom and fall into her bed. As she drifted off into a deep sleep, her last thought was to wonder if she had caught the virus after all.

The explosions woke her up late the next afternoon. Once she was able to pull herself out of bed and come to her senses, she realized she had been asleep for almost 24 hours. She felt fine, though. No symptom of the virus. Maybe the exposure to the bug had caused her to sleep so long? Perhaps her body needed the deep rest to fight it off?

Or maybe, she worried, she would develop the symptoms later -- maybe the virus was just incubating since she had been exposed days after everyone else. She had no idea. But either way, she decided, she wanted to leave the city.

The explosions were distant but loud, and she feared it would happen sooner or later in her neighborhood. Her guess was they were caused by gas leaks, but she didn't want to hang around and find out first hand.

She loaded up her gear and climbed into her green Forest Service truck. She didn't think anyone would mind if she took it. If any of her co-workers were alive, that is. She thought of Rick and Cindy, how angry she had felt about them. The drama she had been wrapped up in a few days ago seemed so trivial now. She hoped that they had somehow made it and were safe. Seeing her town decimated had a way of putting old grudges to rest.

"So long," she whispered to her house, taking one last look at her house with the sage brush and lavender growing out front. It had originally been her grandmother's house, and it had been Jessa's home for a long while. She was sad to leave it.

The air was thick with smoke and rot. She wanted to head north out of town, but she needed food desperately.

The neighborhood corner store looked dark and empty, its shelves still full of food. But she couldn't bring herself to break into the store she had shopped at for years. The Cantu family, the owners, had always been so kind to her. Even if they were dead now, it didn't feel right.

Continuing on toward downtown, she found a mini mart with broken glass. Someone had been here before her, but they were gone now. The entire street was silent.

It felt safe. Or about as safe as was possible in this new nightmare world. She grabbed her large, empty backpack, made sure her gun was secure in her holster, and stepped carefully over the broken glass to go inside.

The store was dark, but she could see well enough to get what she needed. Cans and cans of fish, meat, vegetables and fruit. Dried soup mixes, protein powders, trail mix and granola bars. And of course, big handfuls of chocolate bars. She made a trip to the truck to dump it all in the backseat, then she went back to fill up her backpack once more.

She had just made it to the truck with her full backpack and two cases of bottled water in her arms when she heard it.

A shiny new SUV pulled up, stopping just twenty feet from her as she threw her load in her truck. As she watched four young men get out, she debated whether she should pull her gun. Their smiles made them seem safe, so she decided to wait. They leaned against their car, keeping their distance.

"Hey there," the driver said to her. "Are you a sight for sore eyes!"

"Yeah, not many ladies out and about these days," a guy wearing a cowboy hat said. Jessa felt herself tense up a little.

"Well, we ladies have to eat too, you know," Jessa said, trying not to let her voice betray the fear taking her over. "I was out of town for a few days. How long has it been like this?"

"This bad? 'Bout two days."

"Yeah, everybody just seemed to up and die day before yesterday," the cowboy said.

"Looks like just a few of us were the lucky ones," the driver said. "If that ain't something to celebrate, I don't know what is."

She saw his eyes look her up and down, and it made her shudder. Suddenly their smiles didn't seem so harmless.

"You all alone out here, sweetie?" the tall one asked, leaning forward. "Not really safe for a woman to be out her on her own. Ain't no law these days. People just taking whatever they want."

Jessa didn't respond, but stared them down. She didn't like the tone they were speaking in – or the way they were looking at her. She thought about jumping in her truck and driving off, but she was afraid they'd be on top of her before she could lock the doors. Or what if they had guns?

"Yeah, I think she's on her own, Jack," the one with the belly grunted. "If she had a man with her in the store, he'd be out here by her side by now."

"It's really not safe out here for you, baby," the driver said, taking a step forward.

"Yeah, you already said that," Jessa said, disgusted with them. Her heart was racing as she weighed her options.

"Hey, no need to take an attitude, missy," Jack said. "We're here to help you."

“I don't need your help,” she said. “Back off.”

"Just come with us, sweetie, we'll keep you safe from the bad guys." The one in the hat started to walk slowly toward her with his arm outstretched. "Just come with us now, we won't hurt you.”

He smiled at her, and his eyes were dark.

She drew her concealed weapon quickly and aimed at him.

"Stop right there," she said.

His hands went up. "Whoa there, where'd that come from?"

"No need to get your panties in a wad," the driver said. "We're here to help."

"Get back in your car and drive away. Now," Jessa said loudly.

Jack whistled. "Geez, you're sure all worked up. Just relax."

He still had a smile on his face. They all did. It was funny to them. She was little more than prey to these guys.

"Stay where you are, or I'll shoot," Jessa said, her voice rising.

"Oh, come on now, baby, you don't know how to use that thing, do you, sweetie," Jack said. He took another step toward her, his hand out. He was just a few feet away now. "Be a good girl and come on with us."

Her mouth was dry. He was close enough now that she could see the cruelty in his eyes. She knew what they wanted, and she knew what she had to do.

She fired just as Jack lunged and reached toward her, hitting him in his belly. The sound cracked through the quiet neighborhood.

He doubled over, falling to his knees, as his shirt turned bright red. The cowboy froze, his eyes wide.

The other two men looked at the scene for a moment, not making a move. The cowboy backed away toward the SUV, and the three of them jumped in and sped off, tires squealing.

Jessa was shaking, and she struggled to keep her gun trained on the man before her. Jack was mumbling something, but Jessa couldn't hear him very well. Her senses seemed to have changed – she had tunnel vision and her ears were ringing.

With her heart pounding and her breath ragged, she tried to steady her shaking hand. She knew she had to put the man out of his misery. She fired once more and missed, then took a deep breath. She squeezed the trigger and this time hit him, sending him flat on his back where he lay immobile.

She watched him for a moment, backing up to her truck. She holstered the gun, climbed back in her truck and drove off, leaving the horrible scene in the parking lot.

She felt sick, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. The image of that man bleeding on that parking lot would be with her forever, but she'd have to live with that. They were going to hurt her, and killing one of them had been her only option.

She was glad to be alive. She was grateful for her gun, grateful to her dad for having taught her how to use it. She was still alive, still free; not a captive of those men.

“I'm not your baby,” she muttered as she drove through the empty streets.

She promised herself she would be more careful. She had to stay alive.

10

The interstate through Albuquerque was jammed with stopped cars. Nick had to cross the city on the access roads and back roads, and he was losing precious daylight.

He saw a few more survivors here. They were banding together, forming gangs to scavenge what they needed. A lot of them were armed, from the sound of the gunfire all around. Two days was all it had taken for society to fall apart.

And worst of all, he saw the endless piles of corpses. So many lost, and without a burial like he'd given his wife and son. Mother Nature had struck out at humanity without mercy.

Passing by a gas station on the north end of town, some movement caught his eye. His hand went reflexively to his holster, ready to defend himself against any potential threat. But as he got closer, he saw it was a young woman and a little girl. They appeared to be alone, so he decided to stop and see if they needed help. He knew that they would look like an easy target to any one of the groups he had seen earlier.

They watched, paralyzed with fear, as he turned into the parking lot. Not wanting to scare them, he parked on the far side of the lot, keeping his distance.

"I don't mean any harm," he called, showing his hands out the truck window. "Just wanted to see if you're OK."

He opened the door and stepped outside, standing beside his truck.

"We're fine," the woman called. "Stay over there."

She told the little girl to get in the old truck and lock the doors.

"The name's Nick," he said. "Just drove in from Texas. I'm headed up north of here. Man, things sure got crazy pretty fast, didn't they? All hell broke loose."

The woman crossed her arms across her narrow frame and stared at him, trying to decide if she could trust him.

"Are you traveling alone?" he asked.

"My husband's in the back," she said.

"All right, well, I'll be on my way if you don't need any help."

She watched as he got in his truck and started the engine again. He gave her one last glance as he backed up.

"Wait!" she yelled, waving him over. "Wait!"

He killed the engine again.

"Do you need that help after all?"

She looked at him carefully as he got out of his truck once more. "Maybe. You don't look like a crazy person.”

“Just an ordinary guy trying to get out of here alive,” he smiled. “I couldn't drive past and not stop to help a woman and child.”

She smiled sheepishly and pushed her long, dark hair behind her shoulders. “I just don't know who to trust these days. It sounds like people are shooting each other around the city.” She sighed. “We are traveling alone, and it's pretty scary.”

He nodded and gave a little smile.

“I understand,” he said. “You're right to be cautious. Are you from Albuquerque?”

“Yeah. We're planning to leave, though. It doesn't seem very safe around here anymore.”

“Do you have a place to go?”

She shook her head. “We're heading north into the mountains, but I'm not sure where exactly. I've got some camping gear, but not much. I just want to get out of here."

"What's your name?" he asked, extending his hand toward her.

"I'm Liz, and this is Mia," she said, nodding toward the girl still sitting in the passenger seat. She shook his hand.

“It's a pleasure to meet you both,” Nick said. His friendly voice put her at ease a bit more. “Is Mia your little sister?”

Liz lowered her voice so that the girl couldn't hear. "I just met her. She was all alone, living in that house back there. Her parents are dead. Poor child – I think she's scared senseless."

Nick's brow furrowed as he looked at the child sympathetically. "This damned virus sure didn't go easy on any of us. But to be a little kid alone, that's terrible."

Liz nodded her head sadly. Nick looked at the small, young woman and the frightened little girl. The chaotic new world left in the wake of the Hosta virus would not be kind to Liz and Mia on their own. He had to help them.

"I can't leave a woman and a child alone to fend for themselves now that the world is falling apart. It just wouldn't be right. If my wife had been the one to make it and she were on her own...”

His voice trailed off, then he continued.

“Well, you and Mia are welcome to drive out of here with me. I'm headed north as well. It's safer to stick together. There are a lot of bad elements out on the streets right now."

Liz looked him over, still a little unsure about the whole thing.

"I know you have to be cautious, ma'am, being a woman alone and all. But you can rest easy with me. I don't mean any harm," Nick said. "I just buried my wife and son yesterday."

His voice broke a little, and he paused, looking down.

"I sure wouldn't hurt you or that little girl either. You can follow in your truck as long as you'd like. I know you have camping gear, and I can tell you some good areas to camp. Or, if you want, I've got a safe place for you both to stay. It's your choice."

"OK," Liz said, exhaling. "I've heard so many gunshots that I'm worried about being alone. And, well, we could definitely use some company. It's pretty lonely these days."

"Yes ma'am, it is," Nick agreed.

“You have a place to stay up north?” Liz asked.

“I've got a lodge up near Jemez Springs with everything we need. I'm hoping my brother and his wife and kids will be there too. But I don't know if they made it."

He paused, then cleared his throat and continued.

"You and Mia can stay at the lodge if you'd like. You'll have your own room. How does that sound?"

Liz smiled, glancing back at Mia. "That sounds great. I've got camping gear and was planning to sleep out in the woods somewhere tonight, but a room sounds better, if you're sure we won't be in the way."

"Not at all," Nick said.

Liz motioned for Mia to get out of the truck.

"Mia, come say hi to Nick," she said. "We're going to travel with him, OK?"

But Mia stayed where she was, looking shyly at the newcomer.

"That's OK," Nick told Liz. "She's been through a lot. Now, I don't mean to rush, but it's going to be dark soon and we need to hit the road. Are you good on fuel?"

"Yep, we are now. This truck belonged to Mia's parents. Mine's the Honda, and it was running low so we switched to this vehicle."

Nick started to ask something else, but he was interrupted by a loud explosion that made them all jump. It didn't come from all that far away.

"What was that?" Liz asked after she caught her breath, her ears ringing.

"Must be some open gas lines. I heard it in El Paso, too. I wouldn't be surprised if half these cities blow up. Are you ready to leave?"

"Yes! Let's get out of here!" Liz exclaimed, ready to get on the road. "I'll follow you."

They both hopped in their trucks and got back on the access road. They saw smoke in their rear view mirrors in the distance, and they were relieved to put some distance between themselves and the chaos of the center of the city.

Nick was glad to have people with him. He didn't know if his brother and family would be there at the lodge or not. It would be pretty lonesome if they weren't. And he could use more hands. It would be hard work, and having someone else around would make the burden lighter, both physically and mentally.

Right on the edge of town, he passed a supermarket that had been looted. In the parking lot stood a group of rough-looking men with some women standing beside them. He realized there were actually two different groups, and they were facing off. Some of them drew guns. He shook his head and picked up his speed with Liz right behind him.

The virus had wiped out most of the population, and the ones who remained seemed to want to kill each other.

They took the next on-ramp to enter the interstate, and soon they were making good time. They still had about 80 miles to go. He hoped there wouldn't be any more trouble before they reached the woods, but he was ready for anything.

11

Jemez Springs had been left a ghost town. It was late afternoon when Jessa rolled into town, and she heard no cars, saw no one on the street, and found no sign of life. It was a tiny town, and she guessed the population had been completely, or almost, wiped out.

Her destination wasn't too far from here, just south of the small town. It was the area she had always loved – the place her dad had always taken her camping.

Her gas-hungry truck needed to be refueled. There were just a couple of deserted gas stations in town, and she knew the pumps would be off without electricity.

Luckily, her friend Chris had long ago taught her how to siphon gas from a vehicle. Chris had always told her that the infrastructure would one day collapse. He was forever learning skills that would be useful when that day came. Back in the old days, she had mostly thought he was being a little paranoid, but she always had to admit that he had some valid points. Today, she thanked her lucky stars for his foresight.

She remembered the time they were buzzed off some beers, standing in his driveway as he clumsily fumbled with some hoses. They were both laughing, but Jessa had paid enough attention to learn the gist of it. One hose in the gas tank, another, shorter piece of hose to blow into and build the pressure, forcing the gas to flow out the long hose. It was genius, really, he had said, because you didn't have to get a mouthful of gas.

"Take these. Keep them," he had told her, slurring his words a little, pushing the hoses into her hands.

"For the zombie apocalypse, Chris?" she had asked, laughing.

But she had taken the hoses anyway, throwing them in her closet just in case. They now lay on the floorboard of her truck, along with a gas can.

She smiled a little as she grabbed them. She hoped the virus had spared Chris, that he was safe somewhere in the woods. She missed her old friend dearly. She had been in such a panic in Santa Fe that she hadn't thought to stop by his house and see if he had survived.

She was parked near an old Mazda. The driver lay dead, slumped over in the seat. Jessa was relieved that he was facing away so she wouldn't have to see the grotesque smile on his face.

She got to work with the hoses, and soon she had filled the gas can. Thrilled that the trick had worked, she triumphantly slapped the roof of the Mazda a couple of times.

"Hot damn!" she cried, smiling. It was a favorite phrase of Chris's, and it seemed appropriate. She turned back to her truck and was just about to pump the gas into her tank, when she heard some stirring inside the car behind her.

She jumped, nearly dropping the gas can. She grabbed her gun and turned to face the Mazda once more.

The driver was moving, coming to life.

Her eyes went big as she trained the gun on the driver.

"What the hell?" she muttered as the man slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes. She walked around to see his face, and he jumped, startled to see her and the pistol.

"Don't shoot me, lady," he said, jolted fully awake by the gun pointed at him.

"You were dead," she said, realizing how crazy her words sounded.

He blinked a few times. "I don't think so," he said, looking disoriented. "I don't think I died."

Jessa noticed that he didn't have the gray tone to his skin like all the other corpses. Had he really just been asleep? Passed out?

She lowered the gun, but kept it ready. "Were you just asleep? Here in your car?"

He ran his hand over his head and his close-cropped haircut. "I guess so. I feel like I've been asleep a long time. I'm so thirsty, though. Do you have any water?"

She nodded, backing up to her truck without taking her eyes off him. She handed him a bottle and watched as he guzzled it.

Her suspicion faded. Zombies don't speak and drink water, right? She again became aware of the ridiculous place her mind was going. All the same, she kept her gun out. The world was different now, and she wasn't sure yet just how insane things had gotten.

He finished the water. "Thank you, I've never been so thirsty in my life. I guess it's all coming back to me now. When I first woke up I thought it was a nightmare."

"What do you remember?" Jessa asked.

"The virus killing everybody. My family, my friends... I watched them all die in just three days. Worst thing I've ever seen. Just terrible... Still can't believe it happened this way. I spent two days hiding out in my house, too afraid to see what I might find out on the streets."

His eyes flashed down to her gun, and she felt a little guilty, but not guilty enough to put it away.

"But I ran out of food and water, so I came out to this store here," he said, looking around at the empty parking lot. "Thought I'd have to break in and steal something. There was nobody around. But as soon as I pulled up, I just..."

He stopped, groping for the words.

"Passed out?" Jessa asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. I just got so sleepy all of a sudden. My body felt real heavy, you know? Like I couldn't even lift my arms. I guess I just fell asleep."

"What time of day was it when you came here?"

"I guess it was about 6 pm or so. Late afternoon, but not dark yet."

Jessa looked up at the sky. "I think it's about 4 pm now, something like that. I'd guess you slept for nearly a day."

He whistled. "Wow, crazy, huh?"

Jessa nodded. "Something similar happened to me yesterday. I suddenly got super exhausted, and just fell asleep for something like 20 hours."

"You think it means we have that virus?" he asked, his brows furrowed.

"I don't know. You saw people die from it. Did it happen to them like that?"

He frowned while he thought. "Well, they all turned gray first..."

He frantically pulled down his rear-view mirror to inspect his face. "I don't look gray to you, do I?"

"Nope, not at all. Your color looks good to me."

He breathed a sigh of relief.

"What happened after they turned gray?"

"They'd get a real high fever. Burning up. Then they fell asleep. They kinda dozed on and off, then came the agony part. Crying out in pain. My mama, my sisters, my dad... Then they were grinning and laughing right before they died. Creepy as hell. I call it the Grinning Death."

He fell silent, then looked at her. "How come you didn't see anyone die from it?"

"I was out working in the woods for five days. Just got back yesterday." She motioned with her head toward her green Forest Service truck.

"You're lucky. Missed the worst of it."

She shrugged. "I guess so. It was still pretty bad coming back and finding everyone dead."

Almost everyone, she thought.

"You reckon we're just immune to it?"

"I hope so."

"And maybe we needed to sleep to fight the bug off?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah, it's possible," Jessa said. "But I guess we don't really know much about it. Not much of a way to find out either, except just wait and see."

She didn't point out that she hadn't been exposed to it as long as everyone else since she had been away from humans for five days. The worry that she still might come down with the virus nagged her, and she tried to push the thought out of her head for now.

The guy looked at her gun again. "Listen, I want to get out of this car. Feeling a little stove up. You're not gonna shoot me, are you?"

Jessa shook her head, but remembered her vow to be less trusting of new people. "Just don't try anything crazy."

"I never hurt a fly, that's what my mama always said about me. 'Course, she wasn't happy when I wouldn't go shoot the rattlers in the back yard."

Jessa smiled and put her gun away as she watched him get out and stand up, tall and lanky, but wiry. He had a friendly face, with none of the mean look the guys in Santa Fe had. It was nice to talk to someone both alive and without intention of harming her. She held out her hand.

"I'm Jessica Hayward. Most people call me Jessa. I'm from Santa Fe."

He shook her hand and grinned. "Charlie Dunlap. Grew up right over there on Cottonwood Drive."

The human contact was nice, and Jessa felt her shoulders relax.

"It's great to meet you, Charlie. It's pretty lonely out here."

"Man, it's terrible," he agreed. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have any food, would you?"

She showed him the heap in her backseat, and he selected a couple granola bars to eat.

"I'm going into the mountains to camp tonight," she said as he ate. "What are your plans?"

"Don't have any. My only plan was to get some food, and I didn't even make it that far."

"Do you wanna drive out to the mountains and camp? I'm headed up there now. Might be nice to have some company."

"Hell yes, I do," Charlie said. "Can't imagine how bad it must smell in Mama's house by now. No way I can sleep there tonight. I've got some camping gear, too. Just gotta drive over there and get it."

Jessa looked down at the gas can waiting by her truck and the hoses still hanging out of Charlie's gas tank.

His eyes followed hers.

"Were you stealing gas from me?"

"Yeah," she replied sheepishly. "But only because I thought you were dead. Sorry. I'll put it back in your tank."

"No harm done,” he said, laughing. “I can understand the mistake. You need gas? We've got a little gas stored back home."

"Save it for emergencies," Jessa said. "You might need it later. Anyway, I wanna practice my siphoning technique on that old truck over there."

Charlie laughed. "All right, have at it. You know, I think I better get some food from that store, anyway. You've got a good stash, but it'll run out sooner or later. And I know the owners of that store died."

He shook his head sadly.

"Mr. and Mrs. Olsen. Their whole family died about three days ago. They would want me to eat. And survive."

"Good thinking. I'll just be out here fueling up."

Charlie went around to the back door of the little store and was able to kick the rickety old door in. He began hauling boxes of canned food, water and dried goods into his Mazda. Meanwhile, Jessa returned the fuel to his tank and was able to siphon enough gas to fill up her tank and Charlie's, too.

She waited at the store while he drove the half mile to his house to get what he needed. He had said he'd be back in fifteen minutes, but the time just ticked on and on, and still he didn't return.

Jessa had no way to tell time except for the movement of the sun. Her wrist watch was buried in her luggage somewhere – another error she'd made in her panicked state before leaving Santa Fe. She wasn't sure how long he'd been gone, but it felt like forever. The afternoon was slipping away, and she was getting anxious. The town was so silent, and she imagined all the dead people behind the closed doors.

Why was he taking so long?

Finally she decided to drive in the direction he had gone to look for him. She was about to hop in her truck when she heard a vehicle approaching, and she felt relieved.

Until, that is, she realized it was the sound of two vehicles.

12

Liz and Mia had been following Nick for an hour and a half. Liz was shocked to see all the burning buildings and hear so many explosions and gunfire. She didn't know what to expect in the woods, but she hoped that it would be a safe refuge from the crumbling cities.

Mia had been pretty quiet for most of the ride, though Liz tried to talk to her. The girl said she was nine years old and was an only child. She didn't want to talk about her parents, or much of anything else for that matter. Liz could tell that the girl was very smart, but that she had been traumatized. And not just by the virus and being left alone in that house when her parents died. From the faded bruises on her body and the tiny, scared way Mia spoke, Liz knew that the child had had a rough time in her short life.

Liz was relieved to be traveling with Nick. She knew how to camp well enough from having gone with friends in college and with her family as a kid, but that was just for a night or two at a time. She didn't know anything about long-term survival without the trappings of civilization.

Of course, she didn't know if Nick knew much either, but at least he had a lodge the three of them could stay at. She had always been independent, but the idea of traveling with someone else made her feel much less afraid. Once she saw that he meant no harm, she felt safe around him. His Texas twang and the way he had called her "ma'am" put her at ease.

She was hot, tired, and hungry by the time they rolled into Jemez Springs. She hoped that Nick's lodge wasn't far, and that they would soon be able to stretch their legs, eat, and rest.

Her stomach clenched when she saw someone moving on the side of the road. It was a mixture of fear and happiness every time she saw another person -- happy to see a live human, but afraid they were dangerous.

Liz felt relieved to see it was a woman. Tall and athletic-looking with a blond ponytail, the woman looked to be a few years older than Liz. The woman turned around to the face the approaching vehicles and froze when she saw them.

Nick pulled into the parking lot and stopped his engine. Liz followed suit. The woman's eyes scanned over the two vehicles, and her hand moved to her hip.

"Hey there," Nick called, still sitting in his truck. "Good to see someone alive in these parts."

"Yeah," she said reservedly.

"Listen, I don't mean to intrude on you, but I just wanted to stop and see if you needed any assistance."

"No, I'm fine. I was just about to leave."

Everyone's ears pricked up when they heard another engine and looked in the direction of the sound. They watched as a beat-up sedan emerged from one of the side streets of the little town and drove into the parking lot, stopping next to the woman's truck.

The driver got out, grinning from ear to ear. He was tall and thin, and he was clearly excited to see them. Liz didn't think he looked threatening.

"I never thought I'd see so many living people in Jemez again," he said. "I'm Charlie." He waved at the newcomers. “Charlie Dunlap.”

Nick got out and shook his hand. "Nick Redmond."

"Liz Murphy," she said, still sitting in her truck. “This is Mia.” She glanced at the little girl, who sat tensely in her seat, watching the new people.

"Charlie and I were just leaving," the other woman said, not introducing herself.

"Well, hold on there," Charlie said. "We can spare a few minutes to talk, can't we?"

The woman squinted at Nick, not letting her guard down.

"Where are you folks from?" Charlie asked.

"I'm from El Paso, and Liz and Mia are from Albuquerque," Nick said. "I take it you're a local."

"Yeah, born and bred," Charlie said. "That damned bug hit us pretty hard around here. I think I was the only person it didn't kill from Jemez."

"It hit hard everywhere," Nick said. "I only saw handfuls of people in El Paso. And most of them were dangerous. It's like the people who survived mostly went crazy."

The woman who had been so reserved seemed to relax a little. "Yeah, I saw the same thing in Santa Fe. Everybody seems to be splitting off into gangs."

Nick nodded.

"I'm Jessa, by the way," she said.

"Very nice to meet you both," Nick said. "Did you folks stock up on food and water?"

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, I had to scavenge through my friends' store here just now. It sure made me feel lousy, but I reckon people can't really own anything once they're dead."

"Lots of tough choices these days," Nick said, nodding.

"I was able to siphon some gas from a couple of cars over there, so our tanks are full," Jessa said.

"Smart," Nick said, smiling a little. "I was planning on doing the same. The gas pumps won't run without electricity.”

“I didn't touch that Toyota over there," Jessa said. "It should have something in its tank. Just try not to look at the driver lying dead."

"Maybe you should look at him, just to make sure he is dead," Charlie interjected. He told the story of Jessa siphoning gas from his Mazda, mistaking him for a corpse. Jessa related how terrified she had been when he first started to move, and everyone laughed.

It felt good to laugh, to forget their worries for a moment. Liz got out of her truck while they talked, but Mia stayed where she sat, watching them all with the windows rolled down.

Liz hoped that Nick would invite Jessa and Charlie to the lodge, and after talking awhile, they all seemed pretty comfortable with each other. Everyone seemed to be reasonably assured that the others weren't dangerous. Even Jessa seemed relaxed.

"I don't know what you folks' plans are, but I've got a lodge up in the mountains, about an hour from here. The three of us are headed up there now. If you'd like to join us, you're welcome to stay for a while, until we get this thing figured out."

Charlie's face lit up to hear Nick's words. "Yes sir, I'd like that very much. What do you say, Jessa?"

Jessa smiled. "That would be great. I've got my own camping gear and I prefer to sleep outside, but it'd be nice to have a home base with people nearby."

"That's just fine," Nick said. "Now, I own this lodge along with my brother. If luck is on my side, he will already be there with his wife and kids. They all live in East Texas. Or at least, I hope they're still alive."

Liz gave Nick a sympathetic look. She was afraid that Nick would be disappointed. After all, the virus had taken so many lives. What were the chances that it would spare Nick and his brother and his brother's family?

"More decent folks would be nice," Charlie said. "The world just feels so empty now."

There was a moment of silence as they all mourned those they had lost, and those they could only assume were dead.

"Well, we better move on," Nick said. "I'm going to siphon enough gas for whoever needs it, then let's hit the road."

They all nodded and went to their own vehicles to get themselves ready. Liz's stomach growled, and she thought of the small bit of food she had in her truck. She knew Nick had food at the lodge, but she didn't want to be such a burden and drain his reserves so quickly.

"Charlie, do you think I could get some food from that store, too? Mia and I don't have much to eat."

"Of course," he said. "I'll go with you."

He led her through the back door. Just a little light came in through the windows, making it hard to see in the darkened store. Charlie pulled a flashlight out and helped her to load some paper bags and boxes full of shelf-stable foods.

"Is this your first time to Jemez Springs?" he asked her.

The question struck her as odd, as if he were making pleasant conversation with a tourist passing through his town. The changes had been so quick and drastic – they were all still adjusting to their new circumstances.

"I think I came through once when I was a kid, with my family," she answered. "I'm not really sure."

"It'll get cold up in the mountains at night," he said. "You got some warm clothes?"

She smiled. "Yep, I packed my winter jacket, warm socks, all my sweaters. I should be OK. But it's Mia I worry about. I didn't see her pack many clothes at all. I kind of don't think she had many clothes to begin with."

Charlie looked at her. "Did you just meet her?"

Liz nodded. "Yeah, she was all alone in a little shack behind a gas station outside of Albuquerque. Locked up in there with her parents in the bedroom. Dead." She shuddered.

"Poor thing. I thought she was your little sister or something. Well, Natalie Olsen lived in the house over this store. I could go get some of her clothes. She was about 10 or 11 and bigger than Mia, but it'd be better than nothing."

"That would be great," Liz said. Already she felt protective of the little girl, and she hoped some extra clothes would make her more comfortable.

They went up the stairs to the second floor where the family had lived. It was a big family, and the smell of the dead was powerful.

They looked in three bedrooms before they found Natalie's. Each bedroom had corpses in the bed, and Liz was filled with nausea. It felt so wrong to be in their house, taking their things, but it also didn't make sense to pass up good clothes that would keep Mia warm – and food that would keep them all alive.

Liz shielded her eyes when they entered Natalie's room. She didn't want to see the dead body, and she quickly turned to the closet and bureau. They grabbed several shirts, some pants, sweaters, and jackets, throwing them into a duffel bag they found. Liz looked through the drawers for socks while Charlie located the winter scarves and hats. She remembered Mia's shabby shoes and grabbed some sneakers and warm boots.

They were relieved to leave the dark house and store, and carried their loads over to the truck where Mia waited.

"Look, Mia, we got you some clothes!" Liz chirped, trying to cheer Mia up. "You'll need warm clothes at the lodge. Us city girls aren't used to the mountains."

Liz tried to downplay what was obvious -- that Mia had come from a destitute family and her clothes were insufficient. Liz's efforts at putting the girl at ease seemed to work, and Mia gave a little smile.

"Thank you," she said shyly.

The three of them drank warm sodas and ate tuna straight from the can with plastic forks, and the food made them all feel a little better.

Nick finished the business with the gas. With the sun starting to go down, he led the way, followed by Liz and Mia, Jessa, and Charlie. The four vehicles set out down the bumpy gravel roads, climbing high into the mountains.

None of them knew what to expect at the lodge, but they all hoped for a peaceful refuge from the cities they had escaped.

13

Nick led them through the pitch black gravel road, climbing up into the mountains. The dark forest surrounded them, and he could only see a few feet in front of him -- just what his headlights could illuminate.

He had set out alone, and was now leading a convoy of four vehicles. He hadn't anticipated inviting three more adults and one child to stay at the lodge. He partially felt he had been a little careless inviting them to his home. But he couldn't leave the women to fend for themselves, especially not Liz who had a child with her.

And besides, the loneliness had gotten to him. He still had hope that his brother Tim would be waiting for him at the lodge, but he had to be prepared for the possibility that he'd never see Tim or his family again.

If Tim didn't show up, things would be hard all by himself. Nick was used to sharing a house with his family. The past few days of silence had worn him down. It wasn't that he couldn't be alone. In fact, he often enjoyed solitude and quiet moments. But the dead calm of his neighborhood in El Paso had been too much. He feared he would lose his mind living alone in such an empty, quiet world.

Now there would be more mouths to feed. Though their supplies were designed to last a few months feeding several adults and children, they wouldn't last forever. But the plan all along had been to plant some crops and hunt and fish as much as possible. With three or four more pairs of hands, the work would be easier.

Nick considered the newcomers to have pretty good heads on their shoulders. Liz was a city girl, but smart and resourceful. She had rescued a little girl, and he respected her for her kindness. Charlie was good-natured and knew the area.

Jessa seemed capable and tough as nails, but also reserved and slow to trust. But Nick didn't hold that against her. After all, he assumed it would have been hard dealing with the collapse of civilization as a woman on her own. There were too many people looking to take advantage of anyone vulnerable. And though Jessa was strong, she was also a target for the cruel men he had seen on the road.

All in all, the new folks seemed like a decent sort to spend the end of the world with. Maybe it hadn't been such a bad idea to invite them after all.

Finally, he saw the three tall pines next to the boulder, the sign that they had arrived. He turned off into a small clearing just past the boulder. He led the vehicles down a trail through the woods just wide enough for his truck, and he went slowly, hoping Charlie's little car wouldn't get stuck. The trail led to another small clearing, hidden from the road behind the forest.

Nick's heart sank when he saw they were the first there. No other vehicles: no Tim. The realization that he had probably lost his brother stung, but he had to carry on.

He parked the truck, killing the engine, and the rest followed his example. He got out and grabbed his flashlight.

"We still have to walk in about a half mile. So carry in what you'll need tonight, and we'll come back for the rest in the morning."

They grabbed what they needed and the four of them followed Nick through the woods. The path was narrow, and they had to dodge tree branches, using only flashlights to light their way. They moved slowly.

Finally, the forest opened into a small meadow, and the lodge was before them. It was a humble, but fairly large, wooden house, and they were all relieved to see it.

"Welcome to Redmond Ranch," Nick said, smiling. He unlocked the door and let them all in, moving to light a few oil lamps.

The living room was spacious and comfortable, with enough chairs and couches for them all. Everyone plopped down to rest except Nick, who went from room to room, checking to make sure everything was just as he had left it the last time he was there.

"I thought I was going to have to camp tonight," Liz said. "This is so much more comfortable."

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, we sure are lucky to be here."

Jessa nodded. "Definitely safer to be together in times like this. Santa Fe got pretty ugly."

Nick returned to the living room.

"Everything checks out OK. The house is just as I left it when I was here last year," he said. "I turned the propane tank on. Who wants a hot meal?"

The idea of food animated them, and they all jumped to their feet to help put together a meal out of their canned food and what little fresh food they had left between them.

Soon, they were all seated at the kitchen table with a hodgepodge of food laid out before them. Hot soup from cans was the centerpiece, but they also had some summer sausage, cheese, and crackers from the Olsens' store that Charlie had found. There was a well on the property, but Nick said he wanted to check it out before they drank it. So for now, they drank water from bottles.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Liz said, reaching into her bag and laying out some pastries on a plate. “I have dessert. They're a bit past 'day old,' but they're still good.”

Charlie made a face. “No thanks. I'm gluten free.”

Everyone stared at him, then he broke into a grin.

“Just kidding,” he said as he grabbed a donut while they all laughed.

It was the first meal they had shared with other people in days, and the mood was jovial. They each had their own losses to mourn, but for now they could enjoy the food and company.

"Here's to surviving," Nick said, raising his water bottle in a toast. "We're all lucky to be alive."

"To surviving," they said, raising their bottles.

Once their bellies were full and the kitchen tidied, they all lounged in the living room by the light of the oil lamps.

"Nick, how long has this lodge been in your family?" Jessa asked.

"My grandfather built it, a long time ago," Nick said. "My brother and I were the last to inherit it. We were the only ones who wanted it. We've come here to hunt and fish all our lives, and it's always felt like a second home."

"I'm sure grateful to you for opening up your home like this to a few strangers," Charlie said.

"Yeah, it's very generous of you, Nick," Jessa said.

"Totally. Thank you so much," Liz gushed. "I know Mia is happy to be here, too." She put her arm around Mia and gave her a little squeeze. Mia nodded, but didn't say anything. She hadn't really said a word since they had arrived.

"It's my pleasure to share what I have and help good people," Nick said.

"I'm sorry your brother's not here," Jessa said.

The others agreed. They had all been thinking about it, but didn't want to broach the subject.

Nick looked into the lamp and was quiet for a while. "I guess it was wishful thinking that Tim and Rachel and the kids could make it."

They all fell silent, lost in their own thoughts.

"Well, I guess we've all been through a lot the past week. And it's been a long day. I'll show you all to the rooms. There are four bedrooms."

"Mia, do you want to share a room with me?" Liz asked.

The child nodded.

"So I'll give you two the room with the twin beds. Jessa, are you sure you want to camp tonight?" Nick asked.

Jessa smiled sheepishly. "To be honest, not really."

"There's a bedroom next to Liz and Mia's if you want it."

"Thanks, Nick. A bed sounds much better than a tent right now, so I'll take you up on it."

Nick showed them to their rooms. Everyone fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted from the difficult days they had gone through. All the uncertainty, panic, fear, and loss had worn them down. It was a relief to feel safe, but they all knew not to let their guard down. They feared what may lay around the corner.

14

September 5

Nick woke at sunrise and reached out for Kaitlyn, grasping futilely at the sheets until he remembered. The same old grief washed over him. He wondered if it would hurt this bad forever.

But he didn't linger in bed for long. There was work to be done.

After getting dressed, he trudged outside to look over the well and inspect the water. He and Tim had installed a solar-powered well pump system two years ago, and it was still running fine. He had a home test kit to check for contaminates. Thankfully, the water was safe to drink, and he enjoyed a cool glass of the mineral-rich, non-chlorinated water.

Soon everyone was up, and they had granola and the last of Liz's pastries for breakfast.

After they had cleaned up, they went out to the front porch. Mia gasped when she saw the view.

The lodge was at the top of a hill with a meadow before it. Surrounding the meadow were majestic pines. They could see the forested, blue-green peaks to the right, and red rocky boulders to the left. The sky was crystal blue, and the air smelled of cedar and pine. It was stunning.

"It's gorgeous here," Liz breathed.

"This is one of the prettiest parts of the Jemez," Charlie said. "Your grandpa sure picked a nice spot."

Even Jessa, who had seen so many gorgeous areas of northern New Mexico, agreed that the location was excellent.

"We're really high up, aren't we?" Liz asked, taking some aspirin she'd dug out of her purse. "I think I've got altitude sickness. Terrible headache."

"Yeah, we're at about 7,200 feet. It's quite a jump from Albuquerque," Nick said. "Just drink lots of water, and you'll adjust."

He leaned against the railing of the porch, the morning rays of sun falling on his brown hair.

"The well water checks out fine, so you're free to drink from it. It's a deep well, but we have to be careful not to waste any water at all. In fact, this might be a good time to talk about some ground rules," Nick said.

"First, don't waste. Anything. Water, food, fuel, firewood, it's all precious. Conserve, and only take what you need."

Everyone nodded.

"Second, everyone pitches in for as long as you're here. We all have something to offer, something we can do, and there won't be a lack of work. Sound reasonable?"

Nods.

"That's about it, really."

"I think we can all agree to do that," Liz said. "But I worry about us being in the way. This is your lodge and your supplies. Are you sure you have enough for us?"

"There's enough for a while," Nick said. "But it's not enough forever. We'll have to find more food somehow, whether it's hunting and growing our own, or scavenging. As long as you stay here, you'll have to contribute to everyone's survival."

"I can definitely do that," Charlie said. "I've been hunting and fishing in this country all my life. And I worked at the Fat Elk restaurant. I can wash dishes like the best of them."

Nick smiled. “That's good. We'll have to keep this place clean to not attract pests. Jessa, is that a Forest Service truck you're driving?”

"Yeah, I'm a ranger out in the Pecos National Forest -- I mean, I was a ranger. So I know my way around the woods, and I'm good with hand tools. Woodcraft, trail work, tree work -- that kind of thing,” Jessa said.

"I'm afraid I don't have many useful skills," Liz sighed. "I worked as a barista. I don't think I'll be making any fancy coffee drinks anymore."

Nick chuckled. "Don't worry, there's no shortage of chores out here. We'll find something for you to do around here."

He bent down to Mia's level and winked. "And for you too. I had a boy around your age and he was learning how to do all kinds of useful things."

Nick stood back up and looked off at the distant mountain ranges.

"I think the best thing would be to form a kind of community," Liz said. "Maybe we'll come across other survivors, people who need help. We could spread out a little, build other houses nearby. Everybody working together to survive."

"Have you seen many other survivors who weren't shooting each other?" Jessa asked. "From what I saw, everyone else out there is crazy."

"Let's just take it one step at a time," Nick said in his Texas twang. "It might be nice to have other people nearby who are good neighbors, but that's a long-term plan. We need to be careful who we trust. For now, no outsiders coming back here. I took a chance on you all, and it turned out all right. But now that we're here at this house, we can't just let anybody have access here."

"OK, I understand," Liz said, pushing her hair behind her ear. "First things first."

The group returned to the trail where they had turned off from the gravel road, brushing away the tracks and any signs of the vehicles. They dragged fallen limbs to the trail to make it virtually impossible to be seen from the road. They hauled all their gear to the lodge and inventoried all their food.

Mia seemed to enjoy making lists of all the types of food and counting it up. Though she still was barely speaking, her expression was a little more animated. She was wearing the clothes they had brought her, and though they were loose on her, she looked more comfortable.

Jessa was working in the large walk-in pantry, cleaning and organizing the stores of food, when Liz walked by. Jessa motioned for the younger woman to stop.

"Is Mia a relative of yours?" Jessa asked her, whispering.

"No, I found her all alone in Albuquerque. She had spent two days alone after her parents died, just holed up in a little shack."

"So those bruises..."

"I guess those are from her parents," Liz whispered. "She'll hardly talk to me. I asked her if she was hurt, if she needed any medicine or anything, and she said she was fine."

"Poor little girl. Maybe she'll have a better life here, you know? Away from her abusive parents."

"I'm just hoping she'll open up to me sooner or later. I think she will. She just needs time."

After lunch, Nick and Liz got the outdoor shower connected to the well while Mia finished the food inventory. Jessa and Charlie scouted the property for fallen wood they could add to the firewood stockpile. As Nick said, it was never too early to prepare for winter -- and the end of the propane tank, which would mean cooking on the wood stove.

They each got to wash themselves in the outdoor shower before returning to the kitchen for dinner.

It had been a productive day, and they were glad to have tasks to keep themselves busy.

"Canned beets," Nick said as they finished their food. "I never was a fan, and we've got cans and cans of them in there. My wife insisted we stock up on them."

A sad look came over his face.

"What was her name?" Liz asked.

"Kaitlyn. She got sick first, then Owen followed. He was ten years old.”

"I'm so sorry," Jessa said. She thought of her friends and family who she didn't know were alive or dead. A lump grew in her throat.

"It was the hardest thing in the world," Charlie said. "Watching them die like that. All my family. Getting sicker and there was nothing you could do."

Liz thought about how she had been oblivious to the start of the virus, and hadn't been around any loved ones to see them die. The guilt she felt about her best friend dying was strong, and she spoke to break the silence that had fallen upon the group.

"Jessa, did you lose a lot of people to this thing?" Liz asked.

"I'm assuming I lost everyone," Jessa said, sighing. "I didn't see it happen though. I was out in the woods near Pecos when it hit. I was working on Forest Service wilderness, away from civilization for five days, and without radio contact after the first two days. I got back the day before yesterday and everyone I saw was dead."

"Must have been a shock," Charlie said.

"Yeah, it was crazy. Like the world had ended and I was the last one to find out. I went back to my house in Santa Fe and started to pack up and leave, but I got really sleepy and passed out. Slept like a log for a night and nearly a whole day."

"Yeah, I slept for a long time too," Liz said.

"Same here," Nick said. "Couldn't drag myself out of bed."

"It must be the body's way of fighting it off, right?" Charlie asked. "Those of us who were strong enough to fight it off are still living."

"I guess so," Liz said.

Jessa frowned. "There's something that worries me, though. I was exposed to it a lot later than everyone else."

"So?" Charlie asked.

"What if the virus incubates for a few days, and then you show symptoms? I could still come down with it."

"How do you feel now?" Nick asked.

"I feel fine, all thing considered," Jessa answered. "Just worried."

"It seemed like people got sick about three days after exposure to the thing," Nick said.

"So if I make it through tomorrow without symptoms I should be OK?" Jessa asked hopefully.

"I think so," Nick said, and smiled at her.

"You don't have any gray in your skin," Charlie said. "That's a good sign. Plus, you got tired and slept it off like the rest of us, without any other symptoms. I think you're safe."

"I hope you're right," Jessa said.

They were quiet for a moment.

"Does anyone know how this even happened?" Liz asked.

"There are a lot of theories out there," Nick said. "The official line is that the virus is a mutation of the flu. Kind of a super flu. They're not sure where it started -- some people were saying Europe, some were saying Asia. But it spread to every continent before anyone realized how deadly it was."

"Last I heard the government was trying to come up with a cure or vaccine for it, but nothing would touch it."

"It's all so crazy. I just can't get over how many people it killed. It must have been at least eighty or ninety percent of the population."

"About ninety-six percent," a tiny voice said.

They all turned to look over at Mia, sitting in the corner.

15

They were surprised to hear the little girl speak.

"Did you hear them say that on the news, sweetie?" Liz asked.

"No, it's my own calculation," Mia said quietly.

She looked around to see them all staring at her, surprised. Realizing they were waiting for her to continue, she began to explain.

"It's an estimate. I came to that figure based on the populations of El Paso, Albuquerque, Santa Fe, and Jemez Springs, the number of people each of us has seen alive the past three days, and an estimate of the surface area of each person's hometown we each traveled through. I figured that only one out of every two to five survivors would be out on the streets at any given moment -- admittedly, it's a wild card. Still, though, it seems logical, because some people will be afraid to go out, but they'll also need to seek food and companionship. The actual number of Hosta victims is probably somewhere between ninety-four and ninety-eight percent. Ninety-six is a good estimate."

The four adults stared at Mia, their mouths ajar.

"I know what you're thinking," she continued. "This is a small sample of the world -- just a few cities in the American Southwest. Well, we do know the virus had spread to all the continents on the planet, and it's highly communicable and airborne. There's no reason not to assume its effects were as devastating the world over. There might be some pockets of isolated populations that haven't been exposed to the germ, though."

After a long moment's silence, Nick was the first one to speak.

"Well, here I was thinking you were just an average nine-year-old. I didn't know we had a child genius in our midst."

Mia smiled shyly, her self-consciousness suddenly returning.

"Wow, Mia, now I know how to get you to talk," Liz said, giving her a squeeze. "Just ask you to explain some complicated equation to us."

"I like math," the girl said quietly.

"And geography," Jessa said, winking at the girl.

“I got some help from the road atlas in my dad's truck,” Mia admitted.

"Your logical process sounds good to me,” Jessa said, leaning back in her seat. “So ninety-six percent, huh? Wow."

"Albuquerque seemed so empty," Liz said. "At first I thought I was the only person left alive."

"I think a lot of people left the cities when they realized how bad this thing was," Charlie said. "There was a big stream of traffic into the mountains the first day people started dying. I think folks were trying to get out."

"I didn't see anyone in the woods above Pecos," Jessa said. "Maybe they just didn't make it that far."

"People are probably hiding out all over these mountains," Nick said. "The ones who survived this thing had to leave the cities. They became dangerous."

The women nodded, having seen and heard how hellish the cities had become.

"The population might continue to decrease, even among the immune," Jessa said. "It's like going through the trauma of the end of the world has made people insane."

"Yeah, I heard a lot of gunshots after things got really bad. And explosions," Liz said.

"Those of us the virus spared still have to survive other people," Nick said grimly. "And then there's starvation and dehydration that can do us all in, too."

"I think the population will keep dropping a bit until it levels out," Mia said.

"And only the strong will survive," Nick added. "We need a plan."

They all agreed.

"We may have lost most of the population, but the ones who remain are desperate. If they haven't already left the city, they will when the food and water runs out. They'll be looking for shelter and sustenance, and there's no law to keep them in line."

Nick paused.

"So we'll have to defend this place and the supplies."

"What does that mean exactly?" Liz asked.

"It means we protect with force what he have here.”

He saw the look of worry on Liz's face.

“I'm not saying we can't have a few neighbors. If a few people want to set up camp nearby, I'll consider it. They'll have to be like-minded, though, and be willing to put in the work to pull their weight."

"What about helping people in need?" Liz asked.

"I'm all for helping people when I can," Nick said. "That's why you folks are here. But there's only so much you can do. We can't open up the food stores for everyone who passes through. At a certain point we have to take care of our own. My family is gone, so I can spare enough to help you all out. But we have to draw the line somewhere."

Liz nodded, but something didn't feel quite right to her. Nick had been so generous to her and the others, and she didn't like the idea of turning away other people who might be in need. Of course, it wasn't her lodge and her supplies, so she knew she didn't have much say in the matter. She would follow Nick's wishes.

"Once we've become self-sufficient, that's a different story. We can have people living near here, and we can form some kind of partnership with other groups. That's what humans have always done to survive, in one form or another. I think it'd be pretty hard to make it living off the land all on your own out here."

"You mean like trading with them?" Charlie asked.

"Something like that, yeah," Nick said. "But the plain truth is that right now we're not self-sufficient. We're still eating food produced by factories that don't exist anymore and trucked in through a system that fell apart. Those resources won't last forever. We'll transition to eating what we can produce and hunt ourselves, but it'll take time. Once the gardens and the irrigation systems are in, and once we have a sense of how reliable the wild game is, then we can think about newcomers joining us and working together. But until then, we can't open our doors."

Liz nodded. It made more sense when he said it that way.

"I'm all for defending what we have here," Jessa said. "I've got a pistol to back that up, too."

"I brought my Winchester Model 70. For hunting and home defense," Charlie said.

Nick smiled. "I like the way you two think."

Liz exchanged a quick glance with Mia, then looked back at Nick.

"I have a gun, too," Liz said.

Nick, Charlie and Jessa all looked at her, surprised that she would be carrying one.

"Well, it's Mia's gun, actually. Mia's parents' gun, I guess. She handed it to me when I found her in Albuquerque."

"It was my dad's gun," Mia said meekly.

"We took it with us," Liz said.

She didn't mention that the gun was still underneath the driver's seat in the old truck parked with the other vehicles. To be honest, Liz had forgotten about it, and she was too embarrassed to admit that. She hoped Mia wouldn't bring it up.

"Do you two know how to shoot it?" Nick asked, looking at Liz and Mia.

They shook their heads no.

"Then tomorrow will be gun training for Liz and Mia."

"For me too?" Mia asked, surprised to be included.

"Sure," Nick said. "You need to know gun safety, and you should be able to shoot a firearm in case of emergency. We'll go over everything you need to know. And target practice for everyone, including me."

"OK," Liz said, nervously. She was still uneasy around guns, but she figured she and Mia should learn how to use them. No one in her family had owned a gun, and she had never really been around firearms much.

"All of you will need to get familiar with the property -- where the high points are, where the places to hide are. We can discuss strategies later. The more prepared we are for intruders, the better off we'll all be. Agreed?"

They all nodded.

"So that's the home defense part of the plan. It'll be a work in progress," Nick said. "That leaves the plan for water and food supplies. The well here is safe to drink from, and we've got a shower rigged up for at least the warmer months. It's a deep well, but I'd still like to make it last as long as possible. We'll need to build a water catchment system."

"Yes!" Jessa exclaimed. "I've always wanted to make one of those. A few friends of mine had those rigged up."

"Well, good, you can be in charge of getting that system set up before the late summer rains come," Nick said, smiling. "We'll use rainwater for washing clothes and irrigation."

Jessa nodded, excited about her new project.

"Food is something we'll have to constantly work on. We'll have to get gardens in place quickly. Maybe we can even plant some cold-loving crops soon. Then, in the spring, there will be more to plant. We'll need to have a good bit of potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, greens, beans, and corn. I want to focus on the most nutritious and caloric foods we can grow. Got lots of seeds in glass jars out in the shed."

"I hope there'll be some room for chile peppers in those garden beds. I don't think I can live too long without chiles," Charlie said, grinning.

"I think we can squeeze them in," Nick said, laughing.

"Plus they're a good source of Vitamin C," Jessa added. "I don't think we're going to be drinking much orange juice any time soon. No more shipments of citrus from California and Florida. We'll need peppers and greens to keep the scurvy away."

"Good point," Nick said. "Now, getting those gardens going will be a lot of work. We'll start making compost now, but it won't be ready until next year."

He frowned, thinking about that last point.

"I'm not much of a gardener, to be honest. That was Kaitlyn's area of expertise. But I do worry about this soil. Don't know how fertile it'll be without compost. And we don't have any at the moment."

They could hear the worry in his voice.

"It'll produce something the first season, right?" Jessa asked. "It might not produce the county's prize-winning tomatoes, but maybe we could at least grow something easy like some greens. Then next year we'll have more organic matter to add to the soil."

"Yeah, but I was counting on having some food from a fall garden. I guess I wasn't as prepared as I thought I was." Nick frowned again, frustrated with himself, and angry at fate.

"There's always hunting, right?" Charlie asked. "Plenty of deer out there, and grouse, too. If we're lucky we can get an elk. Dry that meat up over a fire, and we'll be set for the winter."

"Yeah, we'll just have to rely more on the animal foods at first. Hunting and fishing," Nick agreed.

"How long will our non-perishable food last?" Liz asked.

"About four months," Nick said. "It won't get us through the winter alone. We'll need more."

"In addition to hunting and fishing, some of us could go scavenge again, right?" Liz asked. "There was still so much food in the Olsens' store in Jemez Springs."

"It might come to that," Nick said. "I'd rather avoid it because it's dangerous and it uses gas, which is also in limited supply. Also, as time passes there will be less food left in the stores."

"Do you think we should go on a raiding trip soon, then?" Liz asked. "It would be better to have more food, right?"

"I'd be up for it," Jessa said. "It can't hurt to have a surplus of canned foods. And besides, you don't want to be around me when I do low carb. I get cranky without starch and sugar."

Liz laughed. "You and me both. I'll need some canned potatoes and dried fruit to get me through the winter."

"And just think," Jessa said, her blue eyes getting big, "There may never be any more chocolate again. We need to get every bar we can."

The guys smiled. "All right, let's plan for a trip or two to the stores around here," Nick said. "Gotta keep the ladies happy."

"I grew up with three sisters," Charlie said. "Chocolate bars were a staple in our house."

It was well past dark, and Mia was dozing off in her seat. Charlie and Liz washed the dishes while Nick and Jessa put everything away. Liz, Jessa, and Charlie realized the importance of keeping the house clean and tidy – not just to deter critters, but also out of respect for the home they had been generously accepted into.

Mia watched them through sleepy eyes. She had thought about mentioning that her pet dog had died from the virus, but she just didn't have the heart. Everyone had seemed so excited about hunting wild game, and she didn't want to dash their hopes by pointing out that wild mammals could have fallen prey to Hosta as well.

She hoped she was wrong – maybe there would be plenty of deer in the mountains, unaffected by the virus. Maybe they hadn't been exposed to the virus, or they had higher levels of resistance to the illness.

Mia decided not to say anything for now. She had always gotten into trouble by pointing out things grown-ups missed. She had learned to keep quiet most of the time.

16

September 6

Liz was the first one to wake the next morning. She had never been a morning person, yet here she was waking up before dawn – and before everyone else – even though her days at the coffee shop were long gone.

She put on a sweater, as the morning was brisk, and went outside just as the sun was rising. It was beautiful in this part of the state, and so different from the desert landscape she was used to that surrounded Albuquerque.

She crossed the meadow quickly and entered the forest, being careful to look around in the early morning light and remember the way she was going. Every so often she made little piles of rocks – cairns – so that she'd be able to find her way back to the meadow. But she wasn't too concerned. She had an excellent sense of direction, and rarely got lost, even in the woods.

She made it to the vehicles in good time. Everything was just as they'd left it two nights ago. She unlocked the door to the Dodge truck she had driven there, the old door making a loud creak as it popped open.

She reached underneath the seat and found the gun Mia had given to her. The metal was cold in her hand, and it felt heavy. She would have to learn how to shoot this thing, and it made her heart beat a little faster.

A twig cracked behind her, and she whipped her head around to look. She held her breath as she craned her neck to look through the foliage. Hearing nothing more, she turned back to the truck.

Another noise in the forest made her spin around. Her heart was racing now. Something was moving back there.

"Who's there?" she demanded of the dark woods. She clenched the gun in her hand, pointing the barrel down. "I -- I have a gun!" Her voice was shaking. She saw a tiny movement behind some trees on the other side of her truck, and she squinted to see better.

"Don't shoot!" a male voice called to her. "I'm not armed."

Liz sucked in her breath and her body tensed all over. Her arms shook, and she tried to steady the gun with both her hands. She kept the barrel pointing down and her arms straight out.

"Come out here where I can see you!" she hissed.

A man emerged from the woods into the small clearing where the vehicles were parked, his hands in the air. He stopped twenty feet from Liz, fear written on his face. He was wearing ragged clothing and carried a backpack slung over one shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said slowly. "I was just walking around these woods looking for water. I'm camped not too far from here. I saw these vehicles, and I thought somebody could give me some water."

Liz stared at him as she tried to catch her breath. He had frightened her terribly, and she was still shaking.

"I'm James," he said, taking a step forward.

"Just stay right there," she said. He obeyed, showing her his palms.

"Where are you from?" she asked, trying to decide if he was safe or not.

"Albuquerque," he answered. "Drove up a few days ago with a couple of buddies. They didn't make it. Damn virus is a bitch."

She nodded, but still held the gun tightly.

"I set off yesterday in my car scouting for a new place to set up camp. There's not much water to be found around here. But I ran out of gas, so now I'm on foot."

"Are you lost?" Liz asked.

"No, not lost," he said. "Just thirsty and hungry. Say, you wouldn't have anything to spare, would you? Seems kinda stupid to survive the virus but then starve to death out here."

Liz gave him one more look, then set her gun down on the seat, keeping her eyes on the man. He looked to be in his late 30s or 40s, and he didn't seem threatening. She couldn't refuse to help him. She couldn't just let someone die when she had food and drink to spare.

She still had some of her stash of the food they had gotten from the Olsens' store. She moved her eyes quickly between the pile of food and bottles and the man, who stood there unmoving. She grabbed a bottle and threw it to him. She was still afraid to approach him.

He tore off the cap and downed it quickly without stopping. She tossed him a bag of cookies and he scarfed them down. While he ate, she grabbed a few other things -- a couple cans of tuna, cans of soup, more cookies, chips, and water. She put them all in a plastic bag . She grabbed her gun again, just in case, and walked closer to him, then reached out to hand the bag to him.

"Thank you so much," he said gratefully, accepting the bag but staying rooted in place. "You're saving my life."

She smiled. "You're welcome. I wish I had more to give."

"This is great, this will help me a lot until I can find a source of water and somewhere to fish. Got some poles. Just need to find a nice trout stream. What's your name, by the way?"

"I'm Liz."

"Looks like you're here with some friends," he said.

"Yeah, there's a few of us." She didn't want to give any more information than that. She was hoping he would leave soon.

"You're lucky. It's hard being out on your own," he said, shaking his head. "Can't believe my buddies died. The world has become a terrible place now."

She looked at him sympathetically. "I wish I could offer you a place with us, but my friends aren't open to letting anyone else join."

"I totally understand, Liz," James said. "You gotta look out for your own."

"And I better get back there before they start to worry about me."

"Of course," he said. "I need to be moving on, as well. Keep looking for a stream. You wouldn't happen to know of any around here?"

"No, sorry, I don't," she said sadly.

"No worries. I'll find something," he said, turning to go back into the woods. "Best of luck to you, Liz."

"You too, James. Good luck," she said, and watched him hold his hand up in a wave as he went back into the sparse forest. His figure got smaller until she could no longer see him.

She wasn't sure what to think. Her mind filled with guilt for not helping him more, concern for his well-being, and worry about what Nick and the others would say if they found out.

She looked at the stash of food and water in the truck. It wasn't much, but it could save someone's life. She had planned to carry it all back to the lodge to contribute to the community food stores. Instead, she pushed it all under the seat, out of sight. Maybe it would be best to keep a small amount of food separate. It'd be her secret stash, and she'd be able to do what she wanted with it. Besides, they were going to go get more food from the stores abandoned by victims of the illness anyway.

After placing the gun and box of ammo in her backpack, she set off through the woods in the direction of the lodge. As she went, she dismantled each pile of rocks she had set up on the way out, sending the small stones scattering.

She debated whether she should tell the others about James. She knew it wasn't good that someone had seen the vehicles. But James didn't seem like a bad guy -- he'd just had some bad luck and was thirsty and hungry. Why should she refuse him a little help when she'd been so lucky to have refuge at the lodge? It seemed inhumane not to help him.

Maybe Nick would let him join their group – maybe he would turn out to be an asset for them. He mentioned fishing -- he could contribute to their food supplies, and also help with defense of the lodge.

But the way everyone had talked last night, Liz figured it was out of the question to invite someone else to the lodge. Nick had seemed totally opposed to the idea.

As she got to the edge of the woods and looked out across the meadow and the house standing across from her, she decided she better not mention James to the others. She didn't want anyone to get mad at her for giving away food. She hurried to cross the meadow, hoping no one would notice her absence.

She left the backpack on the porch and opened the front door, wiping her hands on her pants as if she'd just come in from washing her hands after using the outdoor latrine.

Everyone was smiling and talking, and no one paid much attention to Liz joining them.

"You're in the clear, Jessa," Charlie was saying. "I can't see a trace of gray on you."

Jessa was looking relieved and smiled at everyone's congratulations.

"That's awesome, Jessa," Liz said, patting her on the back. "You're immune."

"Yeah, I guess so. It's been long enough since I got exposed to the sickness that I think I'm not going to catch it," she said. "That damned virus isn't going to kill me after all. Oops, sorry, Mia."

Mia smiled. "It's OK, I've heard much worse."

While everyone was getting breakfast ready, Liz slipped out again to grab her backpack and sneak it back inside to her room without anyone noticing.

She was happy that Jessa was apparently past the risk of coming down with the virus symptoms. She was also relieved that no one asked her about what she had been doing carrying her backpack around outside before anyone else was up.

Liz tried not to worry about James. He'd probably come across some little creek or springs with good water. That part of New Mexico had plenty of springs. And she was sure he could find some abandoned house or store with food left to supplement what he could fish. She'd given him enough to tide him over for a couple of days without cutting too much into their food stores. It felt like the right thing to do.

She pushed James out of her head as she sat down to breakfast. Everyone was in good spirits after seeing Jessa wake up without any signs of the Hosta virus having infected her. Liz was hungry, and she ate her fill with her new friends, happy that the five of them had survived the worst epidemic humanity had ever seen.

17

Nick placed the six firearms and a sampling of the ammo that each of them had brought on the patio table. Everyone looked down at them.

Mia and Liz had brought a Smith and Wesson 686, and Mia's dad had loaded it with .38 special rounds. Nick smiled at their good fortune. A heavier .357 revolver coupled with a lighter cartridge would be easier for Liz, who was small, to shoot. The coupling meant reduced recoil and improved accuracy. It was the perfect setup for Liz. With some practice, Nick knew she'd be able to fire it reliably.

He went over basic gun safety, which was a review for Charlie and Jessa, but essential for Liz and Mia. He explained the different parts of the firearms and taught the major points of care and maintenance.

It was time for Liz and Mia to become more comfortable with guns, Nick had decided. They learned how to hold the unloaded weapons, to always point the guns in the safest direction, and to never put their finger on the trigger until ready to fire. The words straight trigger finger were drilled into their heads.

Once they had learned how to load the weapons, it was time to practice shooting. They walked to the edge of the meadow to the makeshift shooting range Nick had set up. Nick handed out the ear and eye protection he had stored in the lodge.

Liz turned out to be a decent shot, and she was getting a bit more comfortable around the firearms, but still a little uneasy. Mia, on the other hand, was still terrified. She paid attention through the whole process, but wouldn't shoot. Nick didn't want to scare the girl, so he didn't press her.

Everyone else got to practice shooting as well. Charlie and Jessa were both pretty accurate, but some regular target practice wouldn't hurt any of them.

After a while, Nick thought that it was good enough for the first day. He'd have to keep training Liz until she became fully competent with any of the guns they had, and he'd like for Mia to be able to shoot if needed. But he didn't want to overwhelm them, so he planned to return to gun training the next day.

In the afternoon, everyone set about their own work independently.

Nick had no ambition to be a dictator. He didn't want to make anyone do anything. But he had learned over the years in his work as a contractor how to delegate tasks in a way that worked for everyone. People didn't like being ordered around, and they wanted to do work they enjoyed. With this in mind, he helped everyone to find work they could do best.

Charlie wanted to hunt. Supplementing the group's food supplies was a priority, so he and Nick planned a hunting trip for the next day. They would go to a hardwood forest area where Nick and his brother had always gone to hunt deer.

Jessa volunteered to build a drying rack station over the fire pit to dry the extra meat they wouldn't be able to eat the first day. After she finished that project, she wanted to work on the rainwater catchment system.

Liz wanted to start setting up the garden beds. That evening, they all mapped out the beds and made a plan of how to construct them. Liz wouldn't be able to do it all on her own, but she would get the project started the next day.

Nick asked Mia if she wanted to be in charge of the food stores management, and the girl's face lit up. She enjoyed the responsibility, and she was certainly the best among them at math, so it made sense.

Jessa and Nick went through the food with Mia to make sure Mia understood what kinds of foods were protein, carbohydrate and fat. They needed to consume some of each macro nutrient group each meal.

Eating only lean animal protein without fat or carbohydrates would put them at risk of rabbit starvation – the medical condition caused by eating nothing but lean meat. Charlie had heard stories of people who became ill living off only rabbits or squirrels, so they agreed they would need more variety in their diet. Fat would become even more important in the cold months, giving them a long-burning fuel.

Avoiding carbohydrates was something Jessa and Liz had already experimented with and found it incapacitated them with fatigue, so the women especially wanted to make sure they didn't unintentionally go too low-carb. Being a growing child, Mia would also require a certain amount of carbs. Charlie said he wasn't sure what a carbohydrate was, but he added, smiling, that he didn't want to give up his pasta and rice if he could avoid it.

And of course, they needed a certain amount of protein every day to keep their bodies and brains functioning.

They also talked about various micro nutrients – vitamins and minerals – and which foods contained them. Nutrition would be important for them to maintain their health and strength, so they had to watch their food intake. The key was to eat a balanced amount of nutrients and have enough calories to do the hard manual labor ahead of them. Jessa and Nick both knew of co-workers who had drastically slashed calories in their efforts to lose weight. After a while, the extreme dieters would always start to feel cold, sluggish and unable to keep up with their physically demanding jobs.

Now that the survivors were going to transition to a self-sustaining lifestyle, they would have to eat well to fuel their bodies. Having enough food was crucial.

Mia was fascinated listening to the adults talk about nutrition and how it affected the body. Armed with some basic dietary training, Mia would be able to manage their food supplies and plan meals competently. She'd track how much they ate each day and keep an eye on the rate at which they were consuming the food. This would be essential information to get them through the winter.

Charlie came in and showed them a fistful of small weeds with red stems and small leaves.

“Purslane!” he announced, nibbling on the leaves.

“You can eat that?” Mia asked.

“Yep, it's pretty good,” Charlie said. “There's quite a bit out there.”

“And we can get wild mushrooms when it rains,” Jessa said.

“Sure, and wild onions, and dandelion leaves in the spring,” Charlie added. “Nettles come up in the fall and spring. All kinds of wild foods.”

Mia tasted the purslane. “Tastes kind of strange, but not too bad.”

“Nice find, Charlie,” Nick said.

“Yeah, we can get wild foods for a lot of the year. It won't be enough to live off of, but it's a nice supplement. And it's nutritious. A lot of the old timers in Jemez liked to eat this kind of stuff.”

“Yeah, my grandma swore by dandelion leaves. She said it was her spring tonic,” Jessa said.

“So we'll have some fresh foods, even before we get the garden going,” Charlie said. “Even just a little will help.”

Nick agreed. He was already growing tired of canned foods, and the freshness of the wild greens was a welcome change.

Nick liked seeing everyone busy at work. He was hopeful that this little group of survivors would do all right.

The world had become so quiet without the sound of cars driving on nearby roads or planes flying overhead. It was easy to forget that they weren't the last people on earth.

At dusk, they heard gunshots in the distance. It was a jolt to them all, and they froze, listening. The gunfire was a sharp reminder that they were not alone in the world. It was the first noise Nick heard from other humans since arriving at the lodge, and it was a rude awakening.

The shots were distant, and it sounded like someone hunting. Nick reasoned that it was to be expected since there were other survivors trying to find food in the woods, but the sound made him feel a little uneasy. There were people nearby, and he didn't know if they were friendly or not. Friendly neighbors would be a blessing. People to trade with and help each other out would be welcome. Unfriendly neighbors during the breakdown of civilized society could be a nightmare.

Nick could tell the sound of guns nearby made everyone nervous, so he tried to reassure them that it was nothing to worry about. He did, however, postpone the hunting trip with Charlie by one day. He wanted Liz to practice shooting some more, which they did in the morning. Mia was finally able to shoot the revolver, which she did a few times, but she still didn't really like it. In the afternoon, they all went through some drills, practicing various scenarios of home defense. By the evening, everyone was a lot more confident around the firearms. They knew what to do to defend themselves and their home.

That day, they didn't hear any more shooting from the surrounding area, so Nick felt better about leaving the women alone for a few hours. He knew that they'd have to split up to work sooner or later -- the five of them couldn't stay together all the time. And Jessa and Liz agreed to carry their guns in holsters while the men were away. Charlie had fashioned a passable holster out of cardboard and duct tape for Liz so that she could wear her weapon.

The day of the hunting trip, Charlie and Nick left before dawn with their hunting rifles and gear. They were in good spirits -- it had been a while since either of them had hunted, but they hoped luck would be on their sides.

Nick knew their survival depended on whether they could bring home some fresh meat. Going back home empty-handed was not an option.

18

September 8

Jessa and Liz stood in the tool shed, grabbing what they would need for the day's projects.

"Can you hand me that shovel?" Liz asked, pointing.

"That's a spade," Jessa said, lowering the tool from its hook on the wall.

Jessa had been teaching Liz about the various tools and what they were used for. At first she had been a little impatient with Liz's ignorance of the subject, but Jessa had to admit that Liz was a hard worker and was eager to learn. Before long, she would know how to use the tools better than any other city slicker.

"It's kind of nice to be working outside, isn't it?" Liz asked as they grabbed their tools and closed the shed door.

"Wait till you've been digging all day in the hot sun," Jessa said, smiling.

"Yeah, I know it's going to be hard work," Liz said. "But it's different than working in the city where you earn money to pay for someone else to grow your food. Here, you're working to grow or hunt food to eat and have clean water to drink. It's more direct, more real, you know?"

"Exactly," said Jessa. "That's why I went to work on the wilderness crew. It's not the same as homesteading, but it's outdoor work you do with your hands. Honest work, my grandmother always called it. I think I'd go crazy working at a desk all day."

"Well, I guess that won't really be an option for any of us anymore," Liz said. Although she liked living and working at the lodge, it was bittersweet. She was glad to have left the city, but she still felt grief over losing the old way of life.

Liz got to learn some knife skills while Jessa taught her to fashion rough stakes out of fallen branches. She and Mia took the stakes, along with sheets of black plastic, and began to stake down the sheets where the garden beds would go. The hot sun would bake the weeds underneath the plastic, killing them before they planted their fall garden.

While Liz was busy working on the gardens, Jessa began work on a primitive smokehouse for preserving meat and fish. She cut down a few large, green saplings and de-leafed them. She stood the poles up in a tripod, lashing them together with cordage. Then she secured some smaller poles in between the poles of the tripod, and started to build a drying rack where they would lay strips of meat to smoke.

She planned to build at least three or four drying racks, and then construct a small fire pit out of rocks underneath. The smoke from the long-burning fire would keep insects away from the drying meat. The heat from the fire and the sun, in addition to the circulating air, would preserve the meat. Once they had a nice deerskin, they could wrap it around the structure to keep the smoke moving in a funnel over the meat, which would especially be useful on windy days.

The structure was starting to look pretty good, and she hoped the guys would bring home some venison. Her mouth watered thinking of a tenderloin. Everyone could eat their fill of meat tonight and still have plenty left over to preserve. If the group could secure a good source of wild meat with some veggies in the fall, their canned food supplies would stretch out a lot longer.

Jessa had often thought over the past two days of how lucky she had been to survive such a devastating illness. If Mia was right, and it had killed off somewhere around 96% of humans, it was probably unrealistic to hope that any of her friends had survived as well.

Her mom and her grandma had passed in the previous few years, and her dad had walked out on her family -- and her life -- as a teenager. So she didn't have much family left, and her friends had been important to her. When she had realized how few people survived the virus, she had deemed it best to give up hope of any of her remaining loved ones surviving.

Still, though, her thoughts kept returning to Chris.

He had been her best friend for a long time. The last few months, she had started to think of him in a different way. She slowly came to see that she wanted to be more than just his friend, though she never had the guts to tell him. She had been too afraid he would've laughed at her. But now, she was kicking herself for not saying anything sooner.

What if he had survived? She hadn't even stopped at his house to see if he had been there, or if he had at least left a note for her. The day she had gotten back to Santa Fe, she had been in such a panic. She hadn't been thinking clearly. She wished she could do it over again, she realized as she worked on the smokehouse. She couldn't get Chris out of her thoughts. If she knew that he had died, she could at least mourn the loss. But it was the not knowing -- the uncertainty of it all -- that drove her crazy.

Santa Fe was just a few hours away. The temptation to drive back to his house and see what she found was strong. But the thought of finding him dead was disturbing. Still, though, at least she would know one way or another.

Equally terrifying was the possibility of having another run-in like she'd had just before leaving her hometown. She still thought about that guy she had shot, the way he bled and hunched over on the asphalt. Jessa had never thought she would have to kill someone, and the memory of it made her gut wrench. But those guys had left her no choice. She had just been lucky she'd had the gun and been able to shoot it. She shuddered thinking of all the people who probably didn't fare as well as she.

But next time she might not be so lucky. Next time there might be more of them, they might surround her, and they might be armed. Santa Fe had always been a somewhat dangerous city, and now without any law enforcement, it had become a deadly place to be.

It was too risky to return to Santa Fe. She pushed the thought out of her head.

"Hey, that's looking pretty good!"

Jessa looked up to see Liz standing over her with Mia close behind.

"Thanks! Yeah, I'm pleased with how it's turning out. I hope we can use it tonight to dry some meat. How are the beds coming along?"

"Great," Liz said. "All staked out and the plastic's all down. I'm going to get the compost heap going soon. I just wish we had some bagged topsoil for the fall garden. The soil looks pretty sandy to me. And rocky."

Jessa sighed. "Yeah, it would sure be nice to just run to the garden center right about now and load up on fertile soil. I wish Nick's wife were here to tell us what to do."

Santa Fe has lots of garden supply stores, she thought.

"It's all right, Liz, we'll figure it out," Jessa said, smiling up at her.

Liz nodded. "Are you getting hungry? Mia and I were thinking of getting a little lunch together."

"Starving," Jessa said.

"All right, I'll call you when it's ready," Liz said, heading up to the house.

Jessa turned back to her smokehouse. She had to get Santa Fe out of her head. It was too risky -- too far away, too much road to run out of gas on, and too many opportunities to be attacked.

The sun overhead was strong, and she was glad she had brought her trusty, wide-rimmed ranger hat that kept her from getting sunburned. She was grateful, though, to take a break from the heat and enjoy some food in the shade indoors. Liz, Mia, and the others were nice people. She was lucky to be alive. Chris was probably lost to her. This was her new life, and it was good enough.

19

After lunch, Liz and Mia washed dishes while Jessa rested on the front porch for a bit. Jessa had tried to help with the cleanup, but Liz waved her outside, knowing that Jessa had been hard at work making the smokehouse.

Liz had been working, too, but she felt incompetent compared to the other adults. Everyone had special skills except her. She did the best she could preparing the garden beds, but she worried the soil wasn't good enough to produce much. And Liz just didn't have the knowledge or tools to change that.

Jessa finished her glass of water and left the porch, returning to her project. And Liz felt another pang of guilt -- Jessa was so hard-working that even her breaks were short.

She and Mia washed the dishes efficiently and using as little water as possible. Gone were the days of running the faucet at full blast while washing dishes by hand. The well outside and its water supply would have to last indefinitely.

"Mia, how are you doing? Are you getting used to this new place? I know it's been a big adjustment for you -- for all of us."

Mia thought for a moment. "Yeah, it's been a big change, but it's OK."

"I'm sure you miss your family," Liz said. Mia had still never told her much about her parents, and Liz was hoping she'd say something now.

"I miss my mom," the little girl said. "A lot."

Liz paused. "But not your dad?"

"Not really," Mia said quietly.

"Did he put those bruises on you?"

She was quiet for a long time, holding the plate she was drying and staring into space.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said in a small voice.

"OK, that's fine," Liz said gently. "I don't mean to pressure you. But you can always talk to me when you want."

They finished the dishes, and Mia hopped off the step stool she'd been standing on. Suddenly she threw her arms around Liz's waist in a hug.

"Thank you for saving me," she said quietly. "I would have died if you hadn't found me. I was so scared, I didn't know what to do. Thank you," she whispered again.

Tears sprang to Liz's eyes as she held the little girl close. "Of course, Mia, of course. I should be thanking you! I was so happy to see you. I thought I would be all alone, and then I found you."

Mia looked up at her, surprised to hear her words. Liz smoothed the little girl's brown hair.

"I'm so happy you're here with us. Did you know that? I'm glad I saw you in Albuquerque. It wouldn't be the same without you here."

Mia pressed her cheek against Liz again. She was happy that Mia had finally opened up a little to her, and she could feel the bond strengthening between them. She suddenly felt very protective of this little girl, and she felt her energy renewed. Liz realized just what Mia and all the others meant to her. After only a few days with them, she was beginning to feel like she had something of a family here. She had missed having a family for several years. It felt good.

Mia looked up at her and smiled.

Liz smiled back. "I'm going to go stare at the garden beds some more. Maybe some brilliant idea will come to me. Wanna come along?"

"No, I told Nick I'd work on the food inventory some more," Mia said.

"All right, have fun," Liz said cheerfully, tousling Mia's hair playfully before she went back outside. "See you soon."

Liz went out and glanced at Jessa. She was off to the side near the tool shed and already hard at work constructing drying racks.

The wind had picked up, and Liz saw the black sheets flapping. She'd need more stakes to fully secure the plastic down. She didn't want to bother Jessa again, so she decided to make a few more stakes on her own. Liz walked over to the edge of the woods down the hill from Jessa, looking for limbs that she could use. She wandered into the woods a bit, gathering up a few limbs as she went. The sun in the meadow had gotten hot, so she sat down in the shade of the forest to do the carving. She took out the pocketknife Jessa had given her and began to whittle a short limb into a point.

A rustling in the leaves downhill from where she sat made her snap her head up. Her hand felt for her gun in its holster as her breath hitched in her lungs. She sat there, paralyzed with fear, but hoping to see something harmless like a rabbit hop by. She was ready to laugh at her own skittishness, but the longer she waited, the more her fear grew.

More rustling, then silence.

"Is anyone there?" Liz asked of the quiet woods as she drew her gun out of its holster. She waited, but she heard nothing more.

She figured it was probably just an animal hidden from her view, but all the same, she gathered her tools and backed out of the forest, keeping her eyes on the woods and her gun ready.

She moved her project close to Jessa, thinking it would be safer for the two women to stick together. Jessa looked up at her and smiled, then returned her focus to her work.

Liz remained alert as she worked and kept watch over the area she had heard the noise coming from. She saw no movement, and felt a little silly for being afraid.

"Do you ever get scared in the woods?" Liz asked Jessa.

"Sometimes. Especially at night when the sounds seem to be louder. A squirrel can sound like a bear when you're in your tent and it's dark out,” Jessa said, continuing to work as she spoke. “But generally I think humans are more dangerous than animals. I feel safer in the wilderness than the city."

Liz looked at Jessa's confident hands moving quickly as they tied intricate knots. She wondered if she would ever be as brave, strong, and skilled as Jessa.

"Yeah, but now a lot of the remaining city people have escaped to the wilderness,” Liz said. “So maybe there's no safe place left anymore."

Jessa took a step back from the drying rack she was making. She wiped her brow and squinted toward the opposite end of the meadow.

"I hate to think about that, but you're right. That was why I changed my mind about sleeping outside when we got here. I used to feel safer out in the forest, but now I don't know anymore. It's a new world, and I haven't gotten my bearings yet. I don't think any of us have."

"Do you think we need to worry about people out here? Do you think we're safe?"

"I try not to worry about it, but I think we need to be prepared for anything."

Jessa's mouth tightened, and she grew quiet for a few moments.

"I killed someone in Santa Fe," she finally said, her voice low.

Liz looked up at her, speechless.

"I had to," Jessa said. "There were four guys approaching me with bad intentions. I told them to back off and they wouldn't. One of them was about to reach out and grab me, and I shot him. Dead."

"Wow, Jessa, that's crazy. I'm so glad you're OK, though," Liz stammered. "I mean, you had to do it. It was self-defense."

"Yeah, it totally was. I'm sure they would have raped me if I hadn't shot them. Maybe killed me, or kept me captive. Who knows what they would have done? I wouldn't be surprised if people were trading slaves now, all kinds of crazy stuff."

Liz nodded, thinking about what kind of life it would be to be held captive. She couldn't even imagine how horrific it would be.

"I didn't think I'd be capable of pulling the trigger," Jessa said. "I knew how to shoot a gun. My dad taught me when I was a kid. But I never thought I'd really have to kill somebody. But you know what? When I saw the evil in that guy's eyes, and I knew he wanted to hurt me, I didn't hesitate. And I'd do it again."

The words were startling to Liz, but she could understand them and relate to them.

"I know I would do the same thing," Liz said. "It's like if death is staring you down, you choose to live. And you do whatever it takes to live."

Jessa nodded, looking at Liz. "It's survival instinct. When it's a matter of life and death, I think we all become animals and revert to instinct. It's universal -- doesn't matter where you come from, how much money you have, or what you look like. Almost everyone will fight to stay alive."

"The problem is that what's left of the world's population will also fight to stay alive, even if that means fighting us."

"I'm hoping that won't happen at this place," Jessa said, looking around. "But if it does, we have to be prepared. I know Nick has some ideas about securing the property, and he's going to be working on that soon. For now, we just need to keep vigilant and be ready for anything."

Liz nodded in agreement. She left Jessa to finish up the drying racks, then returned to the gardens to finish staking down the plastic sheets. She still hadn't gotten used to wearing the gun on her person. Would she be able to use it proficiently if need be? She decided to get some more shooting practice as soon as possible.

She thought of how she had lived alone in Albuquerque. She had been afraid in her apartment sometimes, but living surrounded by neighbors, having 911 at the other end of her cell phone, and knowing that police officers were never too far away had given her some comfort. Maybe it had been a false sense of comfort, but she sure felt safer before the world fell apart.

The noise in the woods she had heard earlier was probably just an animal, but she couldn't shake the fear that it was something -- someone -- else.

20

Shortly after sunset, Nick and Charlie returned. They carried nothing but the gear they had left with.

As they trudged up the hill to the lodge where they saw the light of the oil lamp in the window, they were both quiet. Defeated. They had sought out all the good spots Nick knew, all the places he had usually seen deer feeding on previous hunts. They had waited and waited, but they saw nothing.

They tried out Charlie's ideas. Charlie didn't know the precise area they were in, but he was familiar with the terrain of the region and the habits of the deer that lived in it. They tried everything they could, and still they returned empty-handed.

As they neared the lodge, the men passed by the smokehouse Jessa had built. It was impressive, and it made them all the more disappointed to not have any meat to dry on it.

Nick was relieved to come home to find the ladies safe. He had been worried about leaving them alone on the property. But they had to hunt. They needed food.

The women were happy to see them, and they tried to hide their disappointment over another night of canned soup.

"Do you think the virus affected the wild animal population?" Liz asked.

"I don't know," Nick said as he ladled some chicken noodle soup into his bowl. "It wouldn't make sense, because the domestic animals didn't seem to be affected."

"Yeah, the dogs in Santa Fe were running through the streets in packs. Starting to go wild. If the virus affects animals, it's not as hard on them as it is on humans," Jessa said.

Charlie was less worried. "We just had an unlucky day. It happens to the best of them. Especially on open land like this. It's not high fence hunting."

"I don't know," Nick said. "It worries me we didn't see anything. Usually this land has good hunting. Especially this time of year."

"I bet if we got out there tomorrow, we'd bag a 12-point buck," Charlie said optimistically, slapping Nick on the back.

"Yeah, and we'll have a smokehouse to dry the leftovers," Jessa said, smiling.

"How 'bout that smokehouse?" Charlie grinned. "That's some nice work, Jessa."

"Really nice," Nick added, smiling. "Can't wait to try it out. And the prep work for the garden beds looks great, Liz."

"Thanks," she said. "I don't really know what I'm doing, but hopefully it'll kill off those weeds and we can break the soil up with a shovel. Or a spade." She smiled at Jessa.

"Soon you'll all get to try my chile-rubbed venison," Charlie said. "With potatoes on the side."

Nick smiled, but his heart was heavy. If only they had seen something out there.

After dinner, Nick excused himself and sat alone on the porch. The stars had always been bright at the lodge, but now that there was no light pollution from the distant towns and cities, the night sky was spectacular.

He was a little surprised when Mia went outside to join him, since the girl had been so shy since she arrived. She chose to sit in the small chair, which he had gotten two years ago for his son. He was glad the chair was being used, even though it pained him terribly to think of Owen. He missed his family and felt lost without them. The grief was still fresh and raw, despite the circumstances he found himself in that required him to constantly come up with new solutions.

"Did you ever see a sky like that before?" he asked her, pointing up at the expanse of stars above them.

She shook her head. "No, I couldn't see stars like that from my house. I only saw this in books."

"There's nothing like the real thing, is there?" he asked.

She shook her head again in agreement, and he could see her smile in the dim light. "I like it."

"It's starting to cool down at night," he told her after they were quiet for a while. "You got enough warm clothes?"

"Yeah, Liz got me some."

"A winter coat? Sweaters, warm socks and boots, and a coat for the snow?"

"Yep."

"Hat and scarf?"

"Uh huh."

They were quiet again for a few moments, looking up at the stars.

"We don't have enough food," Mia said quietly.

He didn't reply. He had known it, felt it, already. He had almost been waiting for the child to say it.

"I've been tracking how much we eat everyday. It's not enough to last through the winter. It definitely won't hold out until the spring garden comes in. Even if we cut our calories to the minimum level."

He nodded, still looking up at the stars.

"We'll have to get more. A lot more," Mia said calmly.

His mind flashed to the can of soup he had looked at the other day. It had 200 measly calories and wasn't very filling. The big stacks of cans and other packages in the pantry looked like a lot of food, but they were deceptive when each one provided such little nutrition. It was a nagging worry he had tried to postpone thinking about. There were so many other concerns to sort out first, so many things to take care of. But the child was right – something had to be done about it.

"Thanks for letting me know."

“There's something else.”

He looked at her and saw an expression of worry move across her face.

“Did you have any pets?” she asked.

He shook his head. “My wife was allergic to everything. Why?”

Her forehead crinkled and she drew in breath.

“My dog caught the virus back home. He died.”

Their eyes met in the near darkness for a moment, then she looked away. Nick looked back at the sky and into the endless stars.

“Maybe that doesn't mean anything, but maybe it's important...” she trailed off.

“So animals aren't immune to it,” Nick said, nodding slowly. “It may have affected the game out here.”

She nodded, glancing toward the forest across the meadow, which was lit faintly by the stars.

They fell into a comfortable silence again, each knowing what the stakes were and what needed to be done. They understood each other.

Mia leaned back in her chair, seemingly relieved. She knew Nick would get them more food.

After a while, Mia went back inside. Nick stayed on the porch.

He thought about how different everything had seemed before – back when there were convenience stores and online shopping and ATM machines. People like him had lived in the land of plenty, and there were always so many distractions. Even though he had anticipated the system collapsing, he still hadn't been prepared.

He hadn't gotten enough food. That was obvious. He had wanted to make the trip to the lodge for the previous few months before the virus. He'd wanted to stock up the food shelves and load up on other supplies. But there had always been something that came up, something that got in the way. There had always been some reason to postpone it. Work deadlines, birthday parties, unexpected home repairs, vacations to the beach that Kaitlyn begged him to agree to – and that he had enjoyed despite himself.

Besides, he had always reasoned, after another few months of working and hoarding money, he and his family would have been able to move out to the lodge permanently. They had planned to start the gardens, hunt, and can and preserve food to feed them for years.

But they hadn't had the right mindset. They had never expected the end to come so soon. It was always going to be some event in the future. Never now.

He had failed at preparing, and worst of all, he had failed at saving his family. Now, he had brought four people to his lodge. Perhaps it had been a mistake. He knew he had made too many mistakes; he had been over-confident. But he had to try to make it – and to keep these new people alive as well. He had to keep fighting.

He would have liked to give in to Liz and let more people join the group. He wanted to help people. Nick hated the idea of turning sick or hungry folks away.

Also, a larger community would mean more people to help defend the lodge and their supplies. He knew that only four adults were far from enough to defend their home, but it would have to do for now.

There simply wasn't enough food for more people. And unless he did something fast, there wouldn't be enough food for the five of them.

21

Charlie was inside washing dishes, laughing with the ladies, and it almost felt like old times to him. Growing up with three sisters and no brothers, he'd always been used to the ups and downs of living with females. The world may have ended, but at least there was still high-pitched laughter around him, and it felt a little like home.

Still, though, he missed his family, and he thought of them all the time. He had always lived with his family, even at 25 years old, because there had never been any reason to leave. His family had been his whole world.

His dad had gotten sick first. He'd come home from a long-distance truck run and picked the virus up before anyone else in town. That was in the early days of the illness, before anyone had known it would kill almost everyone who caught it. His dad was a demanding patient, and Charlie and the girls were busy taking care of him.

Mary Anne fell sick next, then their mom. Around the time Lulu turned gray, the people on the news were saying no one was recovering. Lulu was his oldest sister and best friend. At that point, the world just started crashing down.

Dad and Mary Anne died the day that his baby sister Vicki came down with it. Charlie had been beside himself. When he had time to think, he told himself it was a nightmare he'd wake up from. It felt so unreal that it seemed possible he was living in a horrible dream.

Those few days were a blur. He had tried to keep them all comfortable. He ran back and forth from room to room, bringing soup and juice and changing sheets. Then the grave digging started. One after another, he'd buried all five of his family members.

Then he had waited to die.

But the gray skin and fever had never claimed him. Even tonight, as he felt the cool water running over his hands as he washed dishes beside Liz, he could hardly believe it.

He had survived.

He wasn't always sure he had wanted to survive, but at this moment, in his new home, it was kind of nice.

He liked the people he found himself living with, and he counted himself lucky to have been adopted into the little group. It didn't hurt that Liz and Jessa were easy on the eyes, he noted as he stole a glance at the two young women.

Growing up in Jemez Springs, the pool of girls had been pretty small. He saw lots of tourists passing through who stopped at the restaurant he worked at, but he rarely got to know any of them. Now he was living and working with two pretty girls, even if they did intimidate him a little. His strategy had always been to try to make the girls he knew at school and at work laugh. Sometimes it had worked, and sometimes it hadn't.

In any case, dating wasn't really a priority for anyone these days. Everybody was interested in surviving. But surviving alongside Liz and Jessa made it a little more interesting.

Nick came back inside as they were finishing up the dishes.

"I'm making a trip tomorrow," he said to the four of them. "We're running low on food, and we need to stock up. It can't wait, because then we run the risk of all the food disappearing from the stores. I'm going to head out at sunrise."

"I'm going with you," Jessa said without hesitation.

"You stay here, Jessa," Charlie said. "I'll go with him."

"It's too dangerous," Nick said, shaking his head. "I'll go alone. I need you all here to guard the place anyway."

"There's no way you're going to go off by yourself," Jessa said. "Besides, we can get more supplies with two sets of hands to carry them."

"Come on, Nick, you'll need a lookout at least while you raid the stores. There's way too many crazy people out there," Charlie said. "And by now, I bet most of them have found guns."

Nick was quiet for a moment. "Yeah, I guess it'd be good to have someone else go along. But Jessa, you stay here. Charlie will go with me."

"I can handle it. I've already had to defend myself. The other day I shot a man," Jessa said bluntly, then drew in a breath sharply. "I had to kill him – I had no choice. It was in Santa Fe. Self defense. I'm not afraid to do it again if I need to. I've got your back, Nick."

Charlie and Nick stared at her. They had underestimated Jessa, and they wouldn't do it again.

"I'm going tomorrow," she said.

A small smile crept over Nick's face. "All right, Jessa, it doesn't look like I have much say in the matter."

She smiled. "Sorry Charlie," she said to him.

"No problem, Jessa. Just don't pull that gun on me like you did back in Jemez Springs," he said, laughing.

"You pulled a gun on him?" Liz asked, her mouth ajar.

"I had to," Jessa said. "I thought he was a zombie coming back to life when he started moving in his car."

"Yeah, I learned my lesson pretty quick. Don't mess with Jessa," Charlie said. "It's all right. I'll stay here and hold down the fort. But you two be careful out there."

"We will. And I'm going to need you, Liz, and Mia to stay alert and keep your weapons on you at all times while we're gone. Stay outside where you can see anyone, but keep close to home."

They understood.

"It should be pretty calm around here," Charlie said. "No sign of other humans in a couple of days."

"Yeah, we didn't hear any gunfire today," Liz said. "Maybe the people we heard shooting the other day have moved on."

"Let's hope so," Nick said. "We need to work on home security, though. While we're gone tomorrow I'd like you two to start working on some booby traps. I've got some wire that I want you to tie between trees at some strategic places. I've got some alarms in the tool shed I got just for this purpose and I'll attach them when I get back.”

He sat down with them and drew a map of the property, indicating where they should tie the wire.

"Jessa, we'll head out of here at sunrise. Make sure that pistol of yours is loaded and ready to go. And bring extra ammo."

"All right," she said. "I'm turning in now. Goodnight, everybody."

They all went to bed early. Charlie had some trouble falling asleep, and he tossed and turned through the night. He didn't know what Nick and Jessa would find out there, but he hoped they'd come back safe and well stocked for the group's survival.

He still felt that he should be the one going off with Nick tomorrow, but Jessa had seemed hell bent on doing it, so he had given in to her. He didn't understand why she was so determined to go off and scavenge for food, but he figured maybe she was getting cabin fever. And after all, he had gotten to leave and hunt that day, so he could hang tight at home for a day.

The next morning, they walked out to Nick's truck. They were taking some gas with them in case they needed it, but they hoped to siphon along the way. The truck was empty and ready to be loaded down with precious supplies.

They drove out through the narrow track, then pulled out onto the gravel road that would take them to a small town. Charlie had ridden with them to the end of the track, but there he got out and moved the limbs out of the way. Once they left, he would once again pull the branches back in place to disguise the entrance to the property.

"Good luck out there," he said. "And try to bring back some dried chiles if you can."

"It's at the top of the list, Charlie," Jessa said, waving and laughing from the passenger seat, and they drove off just as the first rays of morning light were illuminating the forest.

22

September 9

"There's a tiny little town about forty minutes from here,” Nick said as they rolled down the bumpy gravel road, leaving behind a trail of dust. “Los Gatos. Not much more than a general store and a bar. We can check people's houses for food, too, as long as they're empty. I'm hoping there's something left on the shelves of that town."

"We didn't pass it coming up from Jemez Springs?" Jessa asked.

"Nah, it's off this road a ways, about five miles north on another gravel road. It's really in the middle of nowhere."

"So what's our strategy?"

"Be as quiet and fast as we can. The whole world has gone silent, so everyone can hear a truck from a long distance, but there's no need to call extra attention to ourselves. We'll head straight for that general store, scope it out, then go in. I've got two big duffel bags that I'll fill up, take to the truck, and dump out. I'll repeat that until we've gotten everything I can. Your job is to keep your gun out and ready, and alert me if you see anything."

"Got it," Jessa said. Then, after a pause, "Do you feel a little guilty taking stuff like this?"

"Yeah, a little. My mother never taught me to be a thief, and I never was before this whole thing. But things are different now. We can't just roll over and die."

"True. And dead people can't really own anything, anyway. It's not like we're going to be stealing from other survivors' homes."

Nick nodded, then he was quiet the rest of the way. They turned down the second gravel road that would lead to Los Gatos, and they both braced themselves for whatever they would find. They hoped it would be nothing more than a dusty, deserted town with a store full of non-perishable food. But the both tensed as they approached the town.

They passed a sign that said "Los Gatos – 5 miles" but someone had painted over the words: "Turn back."

Neither Jessa nor Nick said anything, but they both tensed up.

As they were arriving on the edge of town, they saw something in the road.

"What's that?" she asked nervously as he approached, slowing down a little.

"I don't know," he said.

They got a bit closer and she squinted, leaning forward.

"Looks like a roadblock," she said. "Or a barricade. They dragged a bunch of trees and old junk out to the road."

"There's a sign, too," he said. He drove just to where they were close enough to read it, then stopped.

GO BACK. TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT, the sign read.

Nick drove off into the ditch and around the road block, continuing forward.

"What are you doing?" Jessa asked, alarmed.

"We need food," Nick said stubbornly.

"We also need to get out of here alive, Nick."

They approached a second barricade and another sign.

TURN AROUND OR WE'LL SHOOT, the sign read.

Jessa drew in air, about to urge Nick to turn around.

Just then a gunfire blast cracked through the silent morning. Before either of them could respond, another shot had already been fired by a second, unseen shooter from behind the barricade.

23

Daniel Parker held his rifle tight as he waited behind the barricade. He and his cousin, Martin Gomez, had heard the sound of the truck coming. Everyone in Los Gatos could hear when a vehicle climbed the big, long mountain into their town, and the two young men were on barricade duty that morning.

Grabbing their rifles and donning their face masks, they had left the post they had been stationed at. Nine or ten other young men from their tribe joined them, rifles in hand. They had spent the morning watching and listening, waiting for just such an event as this. They had positioned themselves behind the barricade the town had constructed last week, praying that they would have it easy this time.

The moments passed slowly. There was always so much time now, since the sickness had come down upon the earth. Not that Daniel didn't keep busy fishing and helping his sisters in the gardens, and his once a week patrol duty. No, he had lots of tasks to do.

But life felt different now. It was wide open, not so pressurized and tight. Without the phones, or TV, or driving down to the bar in Sandoval, the days had a timeless, eternal feeling to them. His mind had room to stretch out and think.

Over one week ago, they had heard about the sickness at the same time as the rest of the world, and through the same TV programs. They had seen the images of dead bodies piling up in the cities. There were so many dead that the living couldn't even bury them all.

His great-grandfather, a tribal elder named Edward, had called a meeting the first night. He spoke in Kiwa, the people's traditional language. Most of them could speak it, but someone translated to English for the handful of children who had not been taught.

"The world has changed, and it will never be the same. The elders foresaw this time, the Dying Time. They spoke of an age when humans would become so sick that they would nearly disappear from the earth. Most would die. The ones to survive would be few, but they would be free again."

Daniel had listened carefully to his words. Though he had not understood all of them, he was spellbound.

"That time has come now. We must return to the earth, to the Indian ways of our ancestors. It is time to leave behind the bottle and the pills. We will hunt, fish, and grow corn, squash, and beans. We will speak our traditional language and live as we did before the great change centuries ago."

There had been a murmur among the people, and the elder had raised his hand to quiet them.

"But we can never leave this, our sacred homeland, and we can no longer allow outsiders to come in. Outsiders may spread the sickness and bring our tribe to its knees. We must protect our home, and we must do so by any means necessary. I have prayed and fasted. I have asked for guidance in the place of vision. This is what I was instructed to tell you."

Daniel had been amazed as he looked around at his friends and family after the elder's words. The entire village was electrified. The Tribal Council convened and decided to follow the great-grandfather's words. They knew it would likely mean extinction if they did not.

They had immediately erected the barricades and appointed armed guards. They distributed face masks obtained from the clinic with strict instructions to wear the mask in case any outsider approached. They must not come into contact with anyone from outside the village. It meant risking their life, and the lives of all the tribe, if they did.

Nearly the entire village had mobilized with stunning efficiency. They had already been growing some crops, but they quickly made plans to expand the gardens. They would especially need a much larger crop of wheat to make more bread in the wood-fired ovens now that all outside food shipments had stopped. But they'd also need more corn, potatoes, tomatoes, squash, and eventually they would expand the small fruit orchard they had. The heirloom seeds they had saved from generations of crops were especially valuable now. Well-adapted to the harsh climate of the arid land with short growing seasons, those seeds were their future.

The handful of people who kept cows, sheep, pigs and chickens made plans to increase the herds. Now that their days were unencumbered by wage-earning jobs and electronic screens, they prepared fields to grow more feed for their livestock.

Daniel had already gone on two fishing trips with his father, brother, and cousins the past week. They had caught some nice trout and even shot a grouse on the way home. He had been hunting and fishing before, but the new responsibility of feeding his family with what he brought home excited him. He had never felt so alive.

There had been a few members of the tribe that could not make the adjustment. Sadly, they had hidden bottles or drugs in their homes and had overdosed in the first few days. The people had mourned for them and burned sage for them, praying for their souls and knowing that they were now free of addiction.

The ones who remained worked endlessly to make the transition to a new way of life. The contents of the general store, which had always been owned by the entire tribe, were distributed fairly to each family and stored for the leaner times of the late winter. Gone were the days of driving to distant cities to give their precious time in exchange for money. Now, they would feed themselves from the earth and spend their days with loved ones. They foraged for wild plants, ate meat they hunted or fished, and drank from the springs. Now that they had reduced their consumption of store-bought food, their minds were growing sharper and their bodies quicker in just the ten days since the tribe had abruptly changed direction.

It was difficult, never-ending work, but they did it tirelessly and without complaint. Finally, they had a bright future to look forward to. The people seemed happier with each passing day.

At one point Daniel had realized that they were no longer poor, and he had laughed out loud at the simple beauty of it. Rich and poor would soon have no more meaning in a world without money, where everyone would have to eke out a living with their hands. He realized that giving up the modern comforts was the best thing that could have happened to his tribe, and he was grateful to God for the blessing. He and his community had vowed to protect their people and their new way of life with all their might.

The outsiders had tried to come time and time again the first few days of the sickness. Most of the time, they turned around at the first barricade. The ones who made it to the second barricade, the guards had shot at – never intending to hurt them, just to scare them away. The villagers decided the visitors were people fleeing the city as the sickness spread, and they worried about a flood of more and more people coming.

But Edward, whose guidance had led them this far, assured them that there would be fewer and fewer visitors as the days passed. He had warned them, though, that they must remain vigilant.

Edward's words had been true. There had been fewer people driving up the hill to Los Gatos. Daniel wondered if that meant the sickness was killing most of the people in the cities.

Now, hunched behind the barricade, he thought of that vow to protect their families. He, Martin, and the others settled into position. The men waited silently. They heard the engine of a large truck. It came to the first barricade and stopped.

Then they heard it continue forward, and he felt his heart sink. He dreaded the confrontation.

The truck came into view. There were two people, and they were getting too close to the barricade. Daniel gave a warning shot into the air, and Martin shot right after him. They were not aiming at the truck. They did not want to kill the people. They only wanted them to leave. But to make sure they'd never return, they had to give them a good scare.

Daniel squinted and saw a woman leaning out the passenger seat. She was pointing a gun in their direction. Daniel knew the other men saw it too, and the tension was thick in the air.

If the outsiders were going to shoot at them, they would have to return the fire.

24

The shots had startled both Nick and Jessa, and Jessa grabbed her weapon and aimed it out the window. Nick slammed the shifter into reverse and started to turn the truck around. She tried to squeeze a shot off, but was unable to aim while the truck was being turned.

While he was wildly turning around, two shooters from behind the barricade took more shots as Nick struggled to get the car straight on the road. They hit the back tire, blowing it out and making the truck slide as he turned.

He took off fast. The car slipped, skidded and threw rocks, but Nick kept control of it.

Jessa started to aim again, looking back out the window as they sped off.

"No, no, get down!" he shouted as another shot rang out from the barricade. "Do you want to get killed?"

Jessa withdrew her gun and ducked back down in her passenger seat.

He continued to speed down the road. The shooters had stopped their fire, but they were both still in a panic.

"What the hell was that?" Jessa cried, her heart racing. "They just started shooting at us out of nowhere!"

Nick didn't answer. He was panting as he watched the barricade fade away in his rear view mirror. The adrenaline was making his mouth dry and his breath catch in his lungs. They went below the crest of a hill and out of sight of the barricade.

Finally, they felt like they could breathe again, though they weren't safe yet. The rear tire was flat and flopping, but he didn't slow down.

"Damn, that scared the hell out of me!" Jessa said.

"You're crazy trying to shoot at them like that," Nick said, his voice a little raised and angry.

"I was just trying to slow them down. I didn't want them to shoot us dead," Jessa said, turning around to make sure no one was following them as they sped down the road. "And anyway, who are you to talk? You should've just turned around at the first road block! You know, the one that mentioned shooting trespassers?"

Nick didn't answer. They both kept flashing their eyes to the road behind them, bracing themselves to see a truck appear with the shooters on their trail. But none did.

Nick slowed to a stop after clearing the next hill.

"What are you doing?" Jessa asked, on edge.

"I've got to change this tire," he muttered.

"But what if those people show up, with their guns blazing? We'll be ambushed!"

"I have to do it. I'll be quick," he said, jumping out and getting the spare and the tools he'd need.

"But this is life or death. It doesn't matter if we ruin the tire," she protested.

Nick sighed as he started to place the car jack. "If we do too much damage to this truck and can't fix it, that could be a dangerous situation, too. Get out so I can change this thing. Keep your eyes peeled on that hill behind us."

Jessa sighed and jumped out, keeping her gun ready to fire in case a vehicle appeared.

Nick worked fast. "I don't think they're coming after us," he said. "They would've already been here if they'd wanted to kill us."

Jessa didn't respond. She was holding her breath as her eyes flashed between Nick's progress and the road, watching and listening for any sign of a vehicle on the road.

He tightened the bolts on the spare tire and threw the old, ruined one in the back.

"Let's go."

They jumped in, slamming their doors, and in a couple of minutes they had made it to their turn, the main gravel road.

Once they were on the main road, they relaxed a little, but both of them kept checking to make sure no one was following them.

"I think it's OK now," Nick said as he checked the rear view mirror, though still driving a bit faster than normal. "They're not going to follow us."

Jessa exhaled. "They weren't very friendly, were they?"

"I guess they didn't want outsiders trying to take what they have," Nick said. "Can't say I blame them much for defending it. But I don't think they wanted to shoot us. Those were just warning shots."

"Warning shots?" Jessa scoffed. "Shooting the truck was just a warning?"

"If you'll notice, they didn't shoot us. And I think they weren't even going to shoot the truck until you went and pulled your pistol on them."

"I was just doing what I thought had to be done," she huffed. "Just like you did when you drove around the first barricade."

"Well, you've got too hot of a head! You need to stay calm."

"How can I stay calm when people are shooting at us?" she asked, annoyed at Nick.

"You just need to think before you act. Shooting before you think is liable to get you killed."

Jessa was quiet for a moment. "I guess maybe you're right. It's just when those guys in Santa Fe were coming at me, I was terrified. I don't ever want to be caught off guard. In any case, you need to pay attention to 'No Trespassing' signs from now on."

Nick knew she was right. He had been careless and put them in a bad situation.

"Point taken. No more driving around road blocks. It was a bad move on my part."

They didn't say any more. They had both learned their lessons. They were quiet for several more miles.

No one followed them. In fact, they saw no one else at all on the road.

"You know what's funny about Los Gatos, though?" he asked finally, breaking the silence.

"What?" Liz asked, surprised by his abruptness.

"I saw several guns at that barricade. There were at least nine or ten people stationed there. And I just got a glimpse of what was behind them, but it was... strange."

He paused and she watched him.

"It looked like people had been working in that town. A lot. I saw some freshly tilled gardens and a bunch of equipment lying everywhere. Like a lot of people had been working on projects outdoors when we got there, then dropped their gear to hide. I'd never seen Los Gatos look so organized and full of life."

"Well, so what? They're just like us -- trying to get gardens going since we have to live off the land now."

"Yeah, but this was different. It looked like the work of a lot of people. Los Gatos has always been like a ghost town. Not more than 200 people. If Mia's estimate of the survival rate is correct and about four percent are immune, that would mean about eight people should have survived in that town. I'm pretty sure more people than eight are living there."

"Maybe they let in some outsiders, then stopped and put up those barricades."

"Maybe, but that town is a Watlah tribe. They're not too open to outsiders joining them. They did business with outsiders, and they've always been friendly people. But from what I understand they wouldn't let other people join their tribe. I have a feeling there's something else going on. I don't think they lost that many people."

"You think the virus doesn't affect them?"

Nick's hand rubbed the short beard he had started to grow. "Maybe. Or maybe they sealed themselves off before they got exposed to the virus. That would explain the very unfriendly welcome we got. They don't want anyone bringing in the virus."

Jessa thought about that. "That's wild. No exposure at all. Well, more power to them if they can pull it off. I guess I'd be shooting from behind the barricade too if that were my village."

Nick nodded. "So, we still need to get supplies. I'm going to go down to Jemez Springs and see if that store still has food on its shelves. If it's all cleaned out, we'll have to head east until we find some food."

Jessa looked out the window at the trees rushing by. There was a good chance they'd end up in Santa Fe. She knew that store where she had met Charlie was too small to have much food, and all the towns between there and Santa Fe were tiny and likely to be cleaned out. She tried to hide her excitement, but all she could think about was going to Chris's house. She knew Nick wouldn't like that, but she couldn't think of anything else.

25

Liz and Charlie had finished another morning of gun training. She was now fairly comfortable with the revolver and the two hunting rifles, and she felt she'd be able to use the guns in an emergency situation. Even though they hadn't fired many shots, careful to conserve ammo, her aim was deadly. Mia had also practiced handling both guns and taking a shot or two.

They had a decent amount of ammo, but Charlie hoped Nick would pick up some more in his and Jessa's trip. There wouldn't be any more stores to buy a few extra boxes anymore.

Now, the three of them were laying some booby traps as Nick had instructed. He had a lot of wire in the tool shed, and they were tying that between trees low to the ground and in key areas surrounding the meadow. Later they would attach alarms to alert them of any intruders to the area.

"We're going to need more wire," Liz said, standing up and stretching her back. "I'll go get it."

"Will you bring me a glass of water while you're up there?" Charlie asked.

"Me too," Mia said.

"Sure," Liz said, and started to trudge up the hill toward the lodge. It was another hot day, and she was sweaty and tired already.

She approached the tool shed, happy to be taking a little break from the monotonous work of tying wire all over the property. Just as she reached for the door handle, she saw movement in her peripheral vision. She froze, looking into the woods just behind the shed as she heard the leaves rustle.

Not again, she thought. She felt silly getting startled at every little thing in the woods. She reached for the shed door, but heard the rustling again. Her hand flew to her holster as her heart pounded wildly.

More rustling, then a voice.

"It's me, it's James," came the whisper. "It's OK, it's just me."

Her pounding heart slowed down a little, but not much. Her brain told her there was no reason to be afraid, since James had not hurt her before, but her body still tensed.

James emerged into view before her as he walked out from in between some trees. She stiffened, her hand still on her gun.

"Don't be afraid," he said.

"What are you doing up here?" she hissed. "You followed me to the lodge?"

"I was looking for food," he said calmly, taking another step forward.

"But how did you know to come here? The last time I saw you was down by the vehicles." Liz's fear grew. "Have you been spying on me?"

"No, nothing like that," he said reassuringly, his voice soothing. "I didn't follow or spy on you. I've just been wandering around these woods, trying to find something to hunt and fish."

She narrowed her eyes. "So you just stumbled upon me again?"

He smiled, and the skin around his eyes crinkled. "Not exactly. To be honest, I did come here looking for you again. But this is the first time I've seen this property here. Scout's honor."

"Why were you looking for me?" she asked.

"I was hoping you could help me out again. I'm starving. I can't find anything to catch, can't find any trout streams. I did find some springs, so I got plenty to drink. But there's just nothing out here to eat."

His hands were at his side, and his face was pleading, supplicating. The hollows of his eyes were dark. He did look malnourished and thin, and the guilt began to build in Liz's mind. She had three meals a day, and he had none. How could she refuse him any help at all?

"Can you spare any more food? Don't let me die out here from starvation, Liz," he pleaded.

She bit her lip and thought about Nick's worried look on his face when he told them he was leaving to bring home more food. And his firm resolution that they could not help outsiders until they were self-sustaining.

But she couldn't let James die, either. Her conscience simply wouldn't allow her to refuse a starving man food. She sighed, looking across the meadow. Mia and Charlie were still tying the wire and weren't paying her any mind. James stood behind the tool shed, out of sight from the others.

"I'll leave some food for you down by the vehicles in a few hours, before it gets dark. I'll put it behind the front tire of the truck you saw me at the other day," she said. "Go a little before sunset and it'll be there."

"Thank you, Liz, I really appreciate your generosity," he said, smiling.

"But you can't come back here ever again, OK? I could get in a lot of trouble for even talking to you now, much less giving food out. I'll give you the rest of my personal stash – it will be enough for a few days, but then you have to stay away. You can't go by the vehicles, and you definitely can't come up here to the lodge anymore."

James nodded. "I totally understand. I won't bother you anymore, Liz, I promise. You're doing a good thing."

"I mean it, James. Don't get caught by anyone else here or it could be really bad for you. I wish I could help you out more, but I don't want my friends to starve either.” She frowned, looking away. “I have to go now."

"Don't worry, I won't come around anymore," he said. "Good luck to you."

"Good luck to you, too. I hope you can find some good trout streams soon."

They exchanged a smile, and then he turned and retreated back into the woods. She watched until he got smaller, then she opened the shed and grabbed another roll of wire. When she emerged from the shed, he had disappeared.

She hurried into the lodge to grab some water. The encounter with James had flustered her, forcing her to choose between her own conscience and what Nick and the others had decided was best. She didn't like that James had made it to the lodge. She didn't like that at all. Suddenly her new home felt less isolated and safe. The property had been seen by an outsider.

The thought made her want to tell the others right away, and for a moment she resolved to go down to tell Charlie immediately. Things had changed now that James had seen the house and the layout of the property. Not only had he seen the lodge, but he had seen the vehicles and the surrounding woods.

But what could James do? He was alone and maybe unarmed. He seemed so thin and weak that his story about not eating must be true. She doubted he posed any real threat to their security being in poor physical condition and alone.

He was only hungry, and her parents had taught her to always help those in greater need than herself. James certainly fit in that category.

It was decided: she would give him the rest of the stash of food in her truck. It would keep him from starving for another week at least, and hopefully he could find some other source of food. There had to be good fishing around there somewhere. And if all else failed, he could walk to Jemez Springs. It would take a couple of days, but he could do it now that he would have some food to fuel his body. There, he could find a vehicle to drive and scavenge for food like everyone else. She decided to write a note with that suggestion and directions for how to get there. She'd leave the note for him to find with the food.

Liz filled a couple of empty bottles up with well water from the tap and set out to join Charlie and Mia across the meadow.

"Here you go," she said, handing them the water. "It's another hot day, isn't it?"

Charlie drank greedily from his bottle. "It sure is. I'd say it's about lunch time, too. "

Liz looked up to see where the sun was. "Let's call it lunch time, anyway. I'm hungry. And besides, I think we're working too far from the lodge. Nick told us to keep close to home."

James was probably harmless, but Liz still felt vulnerable being on the other side of the meadow. It wouldn't hurt to stay close to home base while Nick and Jessa were gone.

"Sounds good," Charlie said, finishing off his water. "And anyway, I was thinking we could start a new after-lunch tradition. It's called siesta. Who's in?"

"Me!" Liz and Mia answered in unison.

They gathered up their tools and trudged back up the hill to retreat to the coolness of the lodge and prepare the midday meal. Liz thought she saw Mia looking at her just a little too long as they got the cans out. Something about it was strange, and it didn't sit right with Liz, but she brushed it off as her imagination.

26

Nick stood in the Olsens' store in Jemez Springs while Jessa waited outside as a lookout. The shelves had been cleared of any edible food. The stench of rotting meat and produce was overwhelming as he walked through the small store, looking for anything non-perishable that had been left behind. But there was nothing.

Apparently others had been through this way since the last time they had come. The thought disturbed him. It meant more people in his neck of the woods -- more people hunting and fishing, and more potential threats to the little group he had assembled and their supplies. It seemed strange to think there were many more people in the world besides the few who now lived at his lodge, since he had seen so few alive, but he knew there were other survivors out there.

They drove to the restaurant where Charlie had worked. It had already been broken into and cleaned out as well. Luckily, though, there was an SUV with a full tank of gas that they used to fill Nick's truck up.

They got back in the truck and headed east on Highway 4. There would be more chances to stock up on food, he told himself.

They drove through forest and mesas, passing abandoned cars on the side of the road. Small houses and shacks stood empty and isolated in the desolate landscape. Nick thought about the people who had lived in them, no doubt struggling to get ahead in life, only to die in their bedrooms from a merciless virus. It all somehow seemed like a big waste, and he again felt the grief of losing Kaitlyn and Owen.

The pain had never left, really, but there were times when it was stronger than others. Now, as they drove silently through the back country, he thought of the many car trips he had taken with his family. Kaitlyn used to sing and dance in her seat along with the radio, to the delight of their son. His wife had always been the glue that kept the family together, the spark of joy in his life. Without her, and without his son, his world had become as empty as the dry valley they now drove through.

But he had to keep going. That's what Kaitlyn would have wanted. She wouldn't have wanted him to give up. And now that he had others to think about, it gave him purpose. He couldn't let them down, especially not that little girl. He had to find food to keep them going through the winter.

After several miles, they came to a small settlement, not even large enough to have been incorporated. It had a convenience store with a few bags of chips and candy bars they took, but not much more. At least they could eat something that day, though. They had skipped breakfast and were hungry now.

Adjacent to the gas station was a dusty mechanic's shop with a few vehicles parked around it. Nick poked around until he found a tire that would work on his truck, then swapped it out, putting the spare back.

"Up here's the turn off for Espanola," Nick said after they had gotten back on the road heading east. "We can go north and see if there's anything in that town. Plus Ojo Caliente might have something. Some of those fancy houses up there might be stocked up. If the stores are all cleaned out, we'll have to start going into people's homes. I hate the idea of breaking into people's houses, but we might have to do that."

"Santa Fe would be a much better bet," Jessa said, sitting up straight in her seat and facing him. "Lots more stores and food. Lots more houses, too, if we need to raid them."

"Bigger town means more people. And that means more risk. I'm sure you remember the fires raging through town."

"Yeah, I do. And the confrontation I had with those guys."

Jessa was silent for a moment before continuing. "I just think it's our best bet. There's going to be a lot more food and supplies in the city. And anyway, are we going to find more ammo in Espanola? Probably have to go to Santa Fe for that."

Nick nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"I was thinking," Jessa continued, "that we could stop at a garden center and get a few bags of topsoil. It might make all the difference when we start to plant."

Nick rubbed his beard. The thought was too tempting to pass up. "Topsoil would help, that's for sure. And fertilizer. That dirt up there at the lodge needs some nutrients."

Buying soil and fertilizer had been on Nick's list of things to do at the lodge before the virus had arrived. He had planned to stock up on that the next time he and his family went. He just hadn't planned on getting the soil this way.

"All right, Santa Fe it is," Nick said as he passed the road to Espanola. "But follow my lead, and don't do anything crazy."

Jessa smiled. "And let's take 'No Trespassing' signs seriously this time."

"Ha ha," Nick said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Even as he scoffed at Jessa, though, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be driving around any more recently erected barricades.

They settled back into the silence again as they sped through the dusty landscape. The junk food hadn't been enough to eat, but Nick tried to ignore the hunger he felt. Soon they'd be in Santa Fe, and he was already starting to smell the smoke of a burned city.

27

A garden supply store came into view as they neared Santa Fe, and they pulled in. The place hadn't really been locked up, and supplies lay around the property, neatly stacked as if nothing had happened. The seedlings and potted plants, however, had mostly dried up and died.

Jessa and Nick called out to see if anyone had survived and was still living on the property. When there was no response, they began to load the back of the truck with bag after bag of rich soil and fertilizer. With each bag they loaded, they thought of home-grown squash, carrots and greens.

"This might keep us from starving," Jessa said. "We'll be able to grow a lot more now."

Nick nodded as he positioned the bags neatly against a corner of the bed of the pick-up, trying to maximize the use of space.

"Yeah, lots of venison stew with onions and potatoes," Nick said.

Then he muttered,"If there are any deer left."

Jessa waved his worry away. "There are deer left."

While he worked, Jessa went inside the unlocked store to grab a few more things. They already had a lot of seeds at the lodge, but she figured a few more packets couldn't hurt. And of course, she needed some chile pepper seeds to spice up their diet. The packets were small and light, so she grabbed handfuls. Maybe seeds would be something they could eventually trade with other groups of survivors.

If we ever find other survivors who don't shoot at first sight, that is.

In the boutique area, she scooped up a stack of sun hats, knowing the others didn’t have any sun protection, and put them on her head to keep her hands free. She yanked some sturdy, high-end gardening clothes in various sizes off hangers. Long sleeved shirts with built-in sun protection and work pants with reinforced knees would come in handy during long hours working outdoors. She had noted Liz and Mia didn’t have much clothing for physical labor. Durable socks, gardening shoes… her pile was growing considerably.

She grabbed several pairs of gardening gloves, including small ones for Mia, and a few small hand tools that she knew they could use, as well as some small parts they'd need for an irrigation system. There were even a couple of books on gardening in arid climates and a farmer’s almanac.

“Come on, Jessa!” Nick called from the truck.

She was taking too long, she knew, but everywhere she looked, she saw things they could use. She stuffed it all in a few plastic bags and hurried outside, picking up some long hoses on the way. He laughed when he saw her loaded down with valuable goods and wearing a stack of sun hats on her head.

“Next stop: sporting goods store,” Nick said.

It was nearby, on the north edge of town. It had already been broken into and picked over. Nick had been hoping to find a shotgun for bird hunting, and he was disappointed when they found there were no firearms left.

“Man, this place used to be filled with guns,” Jessa said.

“Now they're all out on the street, in the hands of God knows who,” Nick said grimly.

They were able to find some extra ammo, though, for some of their weapons, and a proper holster for Liz's gun. After they grabbed what they needed, Jessa saw some fleece-lined camouflage coveralls. Remembering how warm her own had been on hunting trips, she selected some for everyone. Nick looked for some radios, but none were left. He settled on some wool blankets that he grabbed off the shelf.

They drove farther into town. Much of the north side of the city was gone, except for a few buildings here and there that had been spared. But downtown was mostly still standing. The old adobe buildings, naturally fire resistant, often were the only structures remaining on the blocks that had burned, but the wooden buildings were gone. Many places of business and homes had been broken into, and there were wrecked cars, some with dead drivers inside, and some empty, that lined the side of the road.

Except for a couple of small packs of dogs that roamed the streets, the place seemed empty. Santa Fe, once a bustling and vibrant small city, was now a ghost town. The silence that had settled on the city was unsettling. No sound of cars, distant airplanes flying overhead, radios from houses, no music from street musicians or laughter from children. Jessa's hometown, the place where she had spent most of her life, had been decimated. She felt a lump in her throat to see old places rich with history and meaning for her life destroyed.

The feeling of loss and loneliness grew in Jessa. Though she knew she was incredibly lucky to have been adopted into Nick’s little group, she missed familiar faces from her old life terribly. Most of all, she missed him.

"I have to see if Chris made it," she said suddenly.

"Who's Chris?" Nick asked, roused from his own thoughts.

"He was my friend," she said, swallowing and sitting up straighter in her seat. "My best friend."

"You didn't hear anything from him before you left?"

"There was no time; I had to get out. Everything was crazy. I was lost in confusion and chaos, and I wasn’t thinking straight," Jessa said anxiously, her heart pounding. She couldn't bear not knowing any longer. "I have to stop by his house."

"We really don't have time to be making extra trips, Jessa," Nick said. "The longer we stay here the more risk we face."

"Please, Nick," she said. "I have to see if he made it. I have to."

"Damn it, Jessa, is this why you wanted to come on this trip so bad? Just so you could look up old friends? We have a mission here and we can't drive all over doing personal errands."

She looked at him pleadingly, and he could see in her eyes how badly she needed this. He knew that look and recognized it in himself. The wild longing for someone you love. He couldn't tell her no.

Sighing, he gave a slight nod. "Which way is it to his house?"

"Turn right here, on Paseo," she said, licking her lips, her breath ragged. "Then left up there, on Aquecia Madre."

She directed him to turn into a residential neighborhood. It was one of the oldest parts of town, where an aqueduct system had been established centuries ago by the Spanish to irrigate crops. Many homes were historic adobes, and other than the eerie quiet, the neighborhood seemed almost unchanged from its usual state.

"This is a nice part of town," Nick said as he maneuvered the truck down the narrow, windy road.

"Yeah, Chris inherited an old adobe from his parents," Jessa said distractedly. “His parents were well-off.”

"And there's an aqueduct system that still works? Doesn't even need electricity?"

Jessa didn't answer. She was lost in thought.

"This could be bad," Nick said. "Dangerous for us. Fancy houses, lots of trees, and a gravity-fed water system."

"It's just up here on the right," Jessa said, ignoring his worry.

"Seems like the kind of place survivors would want to hang out," Nick said. "It's just too easy."

"What?" Jessa asked, caught up in her own thoughts. "It'll just take a minute."

Nick sighed and pulled into the driveway of a well-maintained adobe. It looked comfortable and inviting with its landscaped grounds, tall trees, and polished turquoise trim, typical of the area. He tried to make as little noise as possible as he parked and exited the truck.

"Have your gun out and ready," he said, looking all around the area for any sign of movement.

Jessa knocked on the door and windows. When there was no response, she jogged behind the house to a tool shed. She found the right stone to kick over and retrieved a key. Nick watched as she ran back to unlock the door. She pushed the door open slowly, holding on to her pistol, and called for her friend.

Nick motioned for her to wait as he went in first, crossing each room cautiously and slowly. But Jessa couldn't wait. She had to go see if Chris was lying dead in his bedroom like most of the rest of the world. She pushed past Nick, ignoring his admonitions to stop and wait.

She ran upstairs, calling for him. Finally she made it to the master bedroom. The door was closed, and when she put her hand on the handle, she stopped for a moment. She had to prepare herself for the worst. Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle and entered.

It was empty. No dead body, no rotting flesh or stench of a decaying corpse. She sighed, relieved and smiling.

One glance and she knew he had left. Drawers were open, closets half rifled through, boxes turned over on the bed. He had hurriedly gone through the room, packing up the essentials.

She looked at the bureau. Amid the odds and ends Chris had apparently sorted through as he prepared to leave, there was a note. Jessa snatched it up to read it.

Jessa,

People are starting to die. Things are getting pretty bad around here, and I'm heading north to Colorado. I'll be at my family's cabin up there. See map for details. I'm sorry I couldn't wait for you. I don't want to stick around here and see how this all turns out. I hope we survive this thing, and I hope you'll join me.

I love you. I always have.

Chris

She clenched the note in her hand and pressed it against her chest, her eyes closed.

He may still be alive, she thought.

She turned the note over to see a rough map he'd drawn, with directions how to find the cabin. She smiled and folded the note carefully, stuffing in down in the front pocket of her jeans.

She heard footsteps on the stairs, and she ducked outside the room to see Nick.

"I'm guessing he's alive, judging by the look on your face?" he asked.

She smiled. "He might be. He's not here, though."

"And we shouldn't be either. The house is empty, but I have a feeling this neighborhood isn't. Let's go. Stay close behind me."

They locked the door and walked quickly back outside to the truck.

"You drive," he said, tossing her the keys.

"Why me?" she said.

"Because I've got a bad feeling we're going to have trouble getting out of here, and I don't trust you riding shotgun."

She rolled her eyes as she opened the driver's door, but froze when she heard the voice at the end of the driveway.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing here?"

It came from a short but brawny guy wearing some kind of mechanic-style jumpsuit and carrying a rifle over his shoulder. He stopped and stared at them from his vantage point at the entrance to the driveway about eighty feet away.

They all froze for just a second. Then everything happened at once.

"Get in!" Nick said to Jessa, who started to get in the truck and duck below the window. Nick ducked for cover behind the open passenger door while bringing his AR-15 out through the open window.

"This is our turf!" the guy yelled as he swung his rifle around and aimed.

28

The afternoon had passed quickly at the lodge. After lunch, they took an hour off to rest during the hottest part of the day. Liz had wanted to go out and leave the food by the truck for James during that time, but Mia suddenly became very talkative and wanted to show her some books she had brought with her. It was rare that Mia initiated conversation, so Liz didn’t want to ruin the chance to talk to her. She decided she could walk out to the vehicles before sunset.

Mia had not brought children’s books that day Liz found her and she packed hurriedly. Instead, they were enormous tomes on various subjects: math, literature, history, physiology and biology.

“Are these books from your school?” Liz asked, a little puzzled why a nine-year-old would be reading such advanced books.

“Oh, no,” Mia said, chuckling a little. “School’s so boring. I get these from the city library. My mom’s always taking me.”

Her face fell, remembering.

“I mean, she always used to take me. She wanted me to read everything I could. But I had to hide them from my dad. He didn’t like me to read this kind of stuff.”

“Why?” Liz asked, frowning.

“He said I was a freak. That I should be a normal kid, do stuff like other kids my age.”

Mia didn’t look up at Liz, but kept turning the pages of her physiology book.

Liz tucked Mia’s hair behind her ear and felt a lump in her own throat. “You’re not a freak, sweetie. I’m so sorry your dad used to call you that.”

Mia shrugged. “It’s OK. I just had to keep these books a secret. It’s nice I can read them whenever I want to now, at least.”

Liz nodded, and looked at the picture of a white blood cell that Mia was showing her. Liz noticed that the child was sitting closer than she ever had, and it made her happy that they were slowly forming a bond.

She forgot all about James at that point, fascinated by what Mia could tell her about the body’s immune system.

After the down time, the three of them returned to work. They wanted to stay close to the lodge, so they began a project closer to home. They built a rough wooden compost bin, then cut down some weeds around the house. The green material went directly in the new compost heap, the first offering for what they hoped would become a rich source of nutrients for the soil.

Finally it was time to go in and prepare dinner. The sun was getting lower, and Liz knew she’d have to go soon. She muttered a vague complaint about a stomachache, then went outside as if to use the latrine.

Instead, she crossed the meadow at a brisk pace, then entered the woods. It didn’t take her long to make it to the small clearing with the three remaining vehicles. She opened the Dodge truck and pulled out the stash of food she had. Liz placed it all behind the front tire, just as she had told James he could find it, and tucked a note for him under the items. She hoped the food would be enough to last James until he could provide for himself.

As the light started to fade, she nervously glanced around, then re-entered the darkening woods.

29

The stranger’s shots sprayed all over the driveway and truck, and Nick returned the fire.

The shooter got hit in the shoulder and stumbled backward. Nick squeezed another shot off, and the guy fell to the ground.

"Drive!" Nick shouted, climbing into the truck.

Jessa sat up and started the truck, her hand shaking.

"He's in the way!" she said as she peeled off, hurtling them toward the body lying at the intersection of the driveway and the main road.

"Just go!" Nick shouted, positioning himself to shoot out the window.

They bounced over the dead body on the right side, then turned onto the main road.

Nick grimaced as he turned to look out the window.

"Are you hurt?" Jessa cried.

But he didn't answer, because a van with two men in it was approaching behind them.

Jessa stepped on the gas and swerved the truck through the narrow street with the van gaining on them. The passenger in the van aimed his semi-automatic rifle out the window and started shooting at the truck. Nick returned fire, and the van quickly swerved out of the way, missing his fire.

She turned sharply down an alley and came to a quick stop, grabbing her pistol and firing while she ducked down as low as she could. The van stopped at a short distance behind them, and the two men took cover as they shot at Nick and Jessa. Glass flew everywhere as they shot the windows and windshields out on both vehicles. Finally, Jessa hit the driver in the head, causing him to slump backward in his seat.

The passenger hesitated a split second to look at his partner, and Nick shot him dead. The bullet went through his chest and he, too, slumped over. Nick shot them both a couple more times to make sure they were down. He quickly reloaded his weapon and indicated that Jessa do the same.

Jessa swept her head back and forth, scanning the area for any more dangers. She noticed her tunnel vision had returned as she slid out of the truck, the broken glass falling out of her lap. The air was heavy with the sharp, acrid smells of gunpowder and blood. Her ears were ringing and she felt disoriented. She took a couple of steps, gasping for air, then bent over to vomit in the street.

Nick moved quickly to the van with his rifle still ready, then he returned to the truck carrying the men's firearms – a rifle and a shotgun. His ears were ringing, too, and he had to yell and pantomime for Jessa to understand him.

"We've gotta get out of here! There could be more coming!"

He grabbed the snow removal brush he kept in the back seat and brushed all the glass out of the seats as Jessa watched, still confused and reeling. He indicated for her to get in the passenger seat. He got behind the wheel, started the engine, and took off with another flat tire and the windshield and windows broken.

He drove quickly, keeping his eye on the rear-view mirror. He squinted through his watering eyes, expecting to see another vehicle appear at any second, but he saw nothing. No one was following them. Once he got a couple of miles away and crossed into the south side of the city, he could catch his breath a little, but he was still operating on auto-pilot. The events of the past few minutes had not yet sunk in for either of them.

He stopped at a Walmart. The sprawling parking lot was dotted with vehicles, so he could have his pick. He weaved in between the scattered vehicles – some parked neatly in rows, and some that had collided into each other -- stopping next to a late-model Chevy Silverado.

He got out and saw the corpse at the steering wheel. Putting on the work gloves Jessa had gotten, and tying a bandana over his nose and mouth, he lifted the dead body out of the truck. He limped back to his truck and gestured to Jessa.

"We've got to move everything over to this one," he yelled.

"Aren't you hurt?" Jessa asked, suddenly noticing his limp and remembering his grimace from earlier. "You got shot!"

She looked him over, but did not see any blood, except for some surface wounds on his face and arms from the shattered glass.

He waved away her worry. "No, no. Just twisted my ankle a little," he said with a hint of a smirk.

They moved all their cargo over to the new truck and started it. The tank was half full. Not bad.

Nick took one last look at his old truck, now all shot up with broken windows. He hesitated for just a moment, recalling the memories of moments he had spent with his family in that reliable old vehicle. He reached in the glove compartment box, having almost forgotten to empty it. He scooped out its contents, including a first-aid kit and a head lamp that he put around his neck for now. Then he shut the doors and climbed inside the Silverado, and Jessa did the same.

Nick motioned for Jessa to sit still as he cleaned and bandaged the minor wounds she had on her face and arms from the shattered glass, and she did the same for him. When they were all patched up, they looked at each other, their eyes locking briefly in a moment of mutual recognition over the horrific experience they had just gone through together. They knew they were lucky to be alive.

There was a supermarket next door, and he pulled up to its front entrance. There was no movement anywhere in the parking lot, but the smell was awful. A combination of the sweet rot of dead people and the putrid odor of decaying food filled his lungs.

"You wait here," he told her as they both got out, holding their guns. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

He grabbed a shopping cart and disappeared inside the store, which had clearly already been broken into. She watched him limp inside, then scanned the parking lot and the highway beyond it, sweeping her eyes over the immense, but silent, destruction.

Jessa’s heart was still pounding from the shooting, and she felt sick. She had to focus on her breathing to calm herself down. Still feeling dizzy and light-headed, she reached inside the Silverado for their small food stash they had transferred from Nick's truck. She drank some warm soda and ate a candy bar as she continued to scan the parking lots and remain vigilant. She was feeling cold and shaky, and she holstered her gun for a moment to pull her hoodie on, then drew the gun again right away.

The sugar calmed her heart down a little, and she took another few deep breaths. She was starting to feel a little better. Jessa smiled a little as she remembered her grandmother, who had always suggested sweet foods to anyone feeling upset.

You were always right, Nana, she thought. Of course, Nana had always kept homemade peanut brittle and sugar cookies in the house, instead of this packaged junk.

She felt the cool metal of her gun in her hands. Now that they had been shot at twice in one day, she appreciated more than ever the protection it offered her. She didn't ever want to be without a gun again. A strange mixture of invincibility, guilt and regret ran through her.

She had put Nick’s life and her own in danger by going to Chris’s house. Miraculously, neither of them had been seriously injured, but their luck could have easily been different. Her guilt over throwing them in that situation was strong. She knew it had been a risk to go to her friend’s house, but she had been possessed. She hoped Nick would forgive her for putting them in harm’s way.

Now that she had seen Chris’s note, she knew that there was at least a possibility that he had survived. Her heart swelled, though she tried to tell herself to not get her hopes up. There was only a small possibility that he was still alive.

In the note, Chris had written that he was leaving when the first people started dying in Santa Fe. She reckoned that was the first or second day of her Forest Service trip. So he could have left before he had started to show symptoms of the illness, and then died in Colorado. She knew the chances were slim, but she couldn’t help but keep her hope alive that Chris had survived.

Her smile faded as her thoughts returned to the horror she and Nick had just been through. She had killed another man, bringing her casualty toll up to two. Making the decision to shoot this one had been easier than the first man, considering this one was shooting at her and Nick, and had come close to killing both of them. Even so, taking his life still troubled her deeply.

She didn't think she would ever get used to shooting at people, but she knew it was a possibility. The thought was alarming to her. She didn't want to become habituated to the act, but she supposed she had little choice in the matter. She found herself in a strange, new world, and all the rules had changed.

She continued to patrol the area as the minutes ticked by with Nick in the supermarket. She was anxious, and she hoped that the store was big enough that it hadn't been totally cleaned out of edible food. Most of all, she hoped that she and Nick made it home alive.

Though her hearing still wasn’t back to normal, a faint sound startled her. It was a familiar sound from the before time -- a grocery shopping cart being pushed over the parking lot. She turned around to see Nick pushing a cart heaped over with food. He was smiling, and she felt her own face open up into a grin.

“There’s still food!” she exclaimed, running over to see what he had found.

“Yes, and more still inside,” he said happily. “You unload this and I’ll go get more.”

She took the cart from him and started to unload the precious cargo, packing it efficiently in the back of the truck. She had never been so grateful to see food before. It meant they had a chance of surviving the winter.

There were cans of meat, vegetables, soup, and fruit, and a few boxes of raisins and trail mix. Twenty-five pound bags of white rice, brown rice, pinto and black beans -- enough to feed them for weeks! When she saw the bags of fresh potatoes and onions that had not yet gone bad, she almost cried. She had gone far too long without fresh food, and she could taste the hot spuds and sauteed onions already. At the bottom was a bag of dried New Mexico chile peppers, and she smiled.

Soon, Nick was returning with another loaded shopping cart. He pushed it over to her and turned to make another trip, but Jessa stopped him.

“Wait!” She had to yell for him to hear her. “I can take a turn.”

“It’s horrible in there,” he said. “You don’t want to see it. Or smell it.”

“You’re limping,” she said. “And I should take a turn. I insist.”

He shrugged, then pushed the empty cart to her and handed her the head lamp. She stretched the strap over her head, tied a cloth over her nose and mouth, and pushed the cart over the broken glass in the entrance.

The stench hit her in the face as soon as she entered. Jessa tried not to breathe through her nose as she maneuvered around rotten food, broken bottles and glass, and knocked over display cases. Occasionally she came upon a dead body, twisted up in a gruesome, unnatural position and wearing an eerie grin. She doubted she’d ever get used to seeing that sight.

The store was dark, and her head lamp illuminated only a narrow path directly in front of her. She was almost grateful her hearing was still not back to normal, because she thought she heard the faint sound of scampering mice, or other, larger animals.

She almost regretted having volunteered to do this, but she pushed on. She wanted to eat just as much as the others, and Nick shouldn’t have to do all the dirty work.

She imagined all the people who had passed through these aisles before her. There must have been chaos when everyone started dying, and people had tried to stock up. Some of them had apparently died trying.

What remained of the canned food aisle had mostly been cleared out. She guessed that Nick had found the remaining few cans from the back of the shelves. On the next aisle, though, she found a few boxed meals -- instant potatoes, grits, and dried soup mixes. There were some bottles of juice and flavored drinks, and some jars of applesauce. She had to lie down on the dirty floor to reach those all the way at the back of the shelf, but she didn’t mind.

At first glance, many of the shelves looked cleaned out, but as she got closer to some of them, she could see scattered items still remaining in the back. The store had been ransacked, but what remained would add up to a substantial amount of food to take with them.

On the bottom shelf, all the way in the back, she found several boxes of canning salt, and she took them all. Salt would be crucial for preserving food and adding flavor.

She moved on to the baby section, which still had some items left. Using her arm, she raked the tiny jars of pureed vegetables and fruit into the cart. They fell on top of the cardboard boxes of packaged dinners. She figured pureed peas were better than no peas.

Next up was the meal replacement section. She grabbed the remaining cases of Ensure and protein bars. The first aid supplies were nearby. She knew Nick had most of what they needed, but she grabbed the remaining hydrogen peroxide, gauze and bandages on the shelf anyway. A few bottles of multivitamins, just in case. Arnica balm would help Nick’s sprained ankle, and it never hurt to have peppermint and tea tree oil.

There were some personal hygiene products at home, but what would it hurt to have more? It’s not like anyone will be making this stuff again, she thought. She grabbed handfuls of bar soap, shampoo, dental floss, and toothbrushes. No need to slack on dental care just because the world has ended.

She laughed a little as she saw the undisturbed makeup aisle. She moved on without further thought. She did, however, grab what was left of the lip balm and hand cream, knowing it would come in handy during the cold, dry winter.

The pharmacy door was open, so she went in and helped herself to some large bottles of antibiotics and painkillers. There were even some snake bite kits she snatched up.

With the shopping cart heaped over, she pushed it to the front entrance. A newspaper display caught her eye. Most of the newspapers were gone, but there was one from Santa Fe New Mexican dated September 2.

FOUR PERCENT SURVIVAL RATE, the headline read. It was apparently the last article issued by the Associated Press. Jessa moved her eyes quickly over the article, which had clearly been written hastily. This edition of the newspaper was little more than a couple of pages of short write-ups, but she grabbed the remaining few copies. It was the only mention of the survival rate she had seen in any publication.

And it confirmed that Mia had been right all along, she realized with a smile. She knew that Mia had been in hiding when any newspapers from that date had come out – the girl had told her that she had stayed indoors when her parents first got sick – and she wouldn't have seen it. They had a real child prodigy on their hands.

She pushed the cart outside, relieved to fill her lungs with the fresher air outdoors.

They were able to scavenge a few more loads of food and supplies, filling up the truck. The sun was dipping low in the blue sky, and neither of them needed to even mention the increased risk of being out after dark. Without a moment wasted, they hopped in and drove off, looking forward to leaving Santa Fe.

Their hearing had partially returned, and they could communicate with each other a little better. As soon as they got out of the city, Jessa spoke up.

“I’m sorry about what happened back there --”

“You could have gotten us killed!” Nick interrupted, clearly upset. “I knew I should have trusted my gut.”

“I know it was dangerous, but we got out of there alive. It all turned out OK, right?”

He shot her a doubtful look.

“OK, you’re right,” Jessa said. “I know we just barely made it out alive. And we had to kill those guys. I’m sorry, Nick.”

She looked at him with sincerity.

“I just had to find out if he was alive,” she said quietly. “You can understand that, can’t you?”

He sighed. Of course he could relate to the desperate need to know. He had considered driving out to East Texas several times to check on his own family, and that would be much more dangerous than going to Santa Fe.

“I understand,” he said. “But no more errands for you. And this makes us even. Driving around the barricade in Los Gatos is now forgotten. We both made some dumb mistakes today.”

He gave her a little smile.

“Absolutely, we're even,” she said. “You have to admit, though,” she said. “I held my own out there.”

“You did just fine,” he said. “I doubt Charlie could have done any better.”

Jessa scoffed. “Come on, Nick, you know who you’d pick next time to have your back.”

Nick gave her a half smile, but he didn’t answer. Jessa took that as an answer in the affirmative.

30

Once she entered the forest, a sense of dread filled Liz. She tried to push it away and reason with herself. It was just the low light of the woods as the sun was setting that made her feel uneasy. She tried to laugh at herself for never outgrowing a childish fear of the dark. She picked up her pace as she moved through the woods, now familiar with the route between the vehicles and the lodge.

Still, she couldn’t shake the terror that had gripped her. She was now in the middle portion of the journey back to the lodge. Just a few more minutes, and she would reach the open space of the meadow. She broke into a run, desperately craving to escape the shadowy forest.

For just a moment, she felt like an animal, running from a predator. The primal feeling ran through her body, and she felt all at once that her fear had not been unfounded.

The next moment, she knew she had been caught.

They came out of nowhere, their arms wrapping around her shoulders and waist, pinning her arms behind her back and deftly removing her gun from its holster before she could even reach for it. A hand over her mouth prevented her from screaming, and she tried to bite it. She fought with all her might, kicking her legs at them and twisting to get away.

But the rope that bound her hands together and the cloth that blinded her eyes and tied at the back of her head slowed her down considerably. She heard them struggling to keep her still. She didn’t know how many they were, but she fought as long as she could, using her knees and feet against them.

Finally, a blow struck her on the side of her head, and everything went black.

Mia had been in the walk-in pantry, deciding what they would cook for dinner that night, when Liz went outside just before sunset.

The girl came out of the small room into the kitchen, carrying some cans. She was surprised to see only Charlie there.

“Where’s Liz?”

“I think she’s in the latrine,” he said. “She said something about a stomachache.”

Mia frowned, and fear crept over her. She set the cans down and went outside to the latrine.

“Liz?” she called, approaching the rustic outhouse.

After waiting, and hearing no response, Mia pushed the door open to see the empty toilet.

She let the door slam shut on its own and turned around, her eyes scanning over the meadow.

“Liz!” she called out.

She went to the tool shed. Nothing.

Liz was gone.

Mia ran back inside.

“She’s gone!” she cried, her face twisting up in terror.

Charlie looked up, startled. “She’s not in the latrine?”

Mia shook her head. “I can’t find her anywhere out there.”

Charlie fought the panic back and tried to think.

“It’s my fault,” she said. “I had a bad feeling about this…” Her voice trailed off.

“It’s not your fault, Mia. Don’t be silly. She’s probably just out walking or something.”

But that story sounded unbelievable to Charlie even as he said it. Something was wrong. He grabbed his rifle and slung it over his shoulder, then grabbed a flashlight.

“I’m going out to look for her. Stay in here, and don’t come out. Keep the door locked until I get back. Do you understand?”

Mia nodded, the tears welling up in her eyes.

Her frightened face pulled at his heart strings. “It’ll be OK, Mia. I'll be back, I promise.”

She watched him go out into the twilight, trembling. Now she was all alone, and she was terrified.

The tears rolled down her cheeks. She had known Liz was hiding something. She didn’t know what, but she knew her friend was acting strange. And she had tried to keep Liz indoors as much as she could. It had worked after lunch, when Mia had talked to her and kept her close by. But Liz had slipped out anyway, and now she was gone.

Mia had lost her mother, and now her new, dear, friend. She curled up on the couch, sobbing, while she watched the door.

31

Charlie stepped out with his rifle slung over his shoulder, then he quickly brought it around to hold in his hands. The night was coming on quickly, and he heard the sound of small animals settling down for the darkness in the woods nearby. He moved quickly down the porch steps and searched around the house, latrine, and tool shed. He called out for Liz over and over, but there was no trace of her.

He crossed the meadow and entered the woods on the other side, headed in the direction of the parked vehicles. He guessed she must have gone to her truck to get some forgotten object or other. The woods were almost totally dark, and he turned the flashlight on to illuminate the path, stopping every so often to call for her and listen for a response.

He finally arrived at the clearing and the vehicles. His heart sank when he saw at once that she was not there. He had exhausted all the possible places that Liz might go on her own, and his mind filled with worry about her.

She wouldn’t have gone anywhere else. Someone must have taken her.

He looked over the area, searching for anything that might be out of place, any kind of clue as to her whereabouts. It all looked the same as he had left it this morning when he rode out to the gravel road with Nick and Jessa.

A brightly colored piece of plastic caught his eye, and he walked over to look at it. It was a small package of cookies lying on the ground, partially hidden behind the front wheel of the truck Liz had driven. He picked up the package and turned it over in his hand as if it held the mystery of her disappearance. He didn't think the cookies were there that morning, but he supposed he could have missed them.

He walked out to the main road. Everything was just as it had been that morning. Not knowing what else to do, Charlie turned back toward the lodge. Maybe he would get lucky and Liz would have returned home by then. He began the walk back, calling her all the way.

An hour later, Charlie was still searching. He’d gone back to the lodge to find Mia crying, still alone. It was at that point the panic really started to overtake him.

Liz was missing.

He’d put on a good face for Mia, telling her that Liz had probably gotten lost in the woods, but that she’d find her way back soon. She wouldn’t have gone far, he promised her. But Mia would hear none of it. She knew, and Charlie knew, that something awful had happened to their friend.

Charlie did another search of the property surrounding the lodge, just in case Liz was injured nearby and for some reason not answering his calls. But there was no trace of her.

He went back to Mia, trying to calm her down unsuccessfully. Then he began a sweep of the woods from the house to the road, covering the ground in a zigzag fashion. He made use of a compass, careful not to get himself lost in the dark woods. Finally he made it back to the road again.

He began to follow the gravel road toward the south, in the direction they had all come from, calling her name. The adrenaline fueled him, and he did not feel tired. He had to find her.

He had turned off his lamp long ago, his eyes having adjusted to the low light of the stars and the low, waxing moon. He walked along the road, his eyes sweeping over the land, searching for any kind of light in the distance, his ears attuned to any noise.

He heard the engine long before he saw the light. It was coming up the mountain. He stopped and waited. When he saw the headlights, he raised his arm, flagging the driver to stop.

32

A cold, hard floor beneath her body was the first thing Liz became aware of. She was groggy and disoriented, but she knew she wasn’t safe. She was lying on the floor with her hands tied behind her. She couldn’t see anything, and she wasn’t sure if she’d gone blind at first, but then she realized she had been blindfolded.

Her wrists and shoulders were aching, and she struggled slightly against the material that bound her hands. As she came more fully awake, she could hear men’s voices. She immediately stopped moving. She didn’t want them to know she was awake.

“I told you we shouldn't have taken her yet!” She recognized this voice as belonging to James, which didn't surprise her all that much. Somehow she had known it was him she was struggling against in the woods.

“What did you want me to do? She was right there. It was our only chance.”

“You're such a moron, dude. Now what do we do with her?”

“We stick to the plan. We've been through this a million times. We can't do anything until she’s awake. We’ll let the little princess sleep for now...”

Their voices faded as they moved out of earshot. She couldn’t tell if there were two or three men there. She lay like that for awhile, trying to hear anything. Finally, exhausted, she fell back into her dark, dreamless sleep.

Jessa had just dozed off the final few minutes of the long drive back up the mountain, but she jerked awake with the decrease in sound from the engine. The truck was stopping, but she saw after she opened her eyes they weren’t home yet, and her stomach tensed.

There was a man on the road holding a gun and waving them down. Her hand flew to her weapon, realizing Nick was stopping.

“Let’s hope he’s friendly,” Nick said.

Then, she recognized him. It was Charlie. He recognized them as soon as they stopped, and he looked relieved.

“What are you doing out here, Charlie?” Nick asked.

“Thank God it’s you two. You got a new truck,” he said, leaning on the passenger side door. “It’s Liz,” he said, catching his breath. “She’s missing.”

“What?” Jessa asked, still not fully awake. “What do you mean, missing?”

“She went out to the latrine just before sunset. Said her stomach was hurting. Mia went out a few minutes later and Liz had disappeared. I’ve been searching everywhere for her. She’s nowhere. Just gone.”

Nick felt his stomach tighten, and he ran his hand through his hair. “Where’s Mia?”

“She’s back at the lodge, scared stiff, poor thing.” Charlie sighed. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where Liz is.”

“Ride back with us to the clearing and we’ll figure out what to do,” Nick finally said.

The supplies the two had gotten took up the bed and the backseat, but Jessa moved over and Charlie squeezed in next to her. Once they had parked the truck, they decided Jessa should wait back at the lodge with Mia. She started off to return on her own, but Nick set off behind her, and he motioned for Charlie to follow.

“You’re not going to disappear on us, too,” Nick said. “We’re going with you.”

Jessa may have been tough and able to hold her own, but Nick didn’t want to take any chances. He couldn’t help but worry that Liz had been captured because she was a woman. The thought disgusted him, and he resolved to find her quickly.

Jessa didn’t argue with having company on the walk back to the lodge.

They found Mia terrified and crying.

“She's gone, she's gone,” she wailed. Jessa held the girl close, trying to calm her down.

“We're going to get her back, don't worry,” Jessa said, trying to reassure them both.

After securing Jessa and Mia in the lodge, Nick and Charlie went back out into the night, heavily armed. They scoured the woods and the surrounding area. They called out for her well into the night, but there was never any response.

Finally, they came home worried and defeated. They couldn’t find Liz. They retreated to the safety of the lodge, planning to begin their search again in the light of day.

33

Liz was awakened by rough hands on her, pulling her up to a sitting position. She was now seated on the floor, but her hands were still tied behind her back and she couldn’t see.

“Time to wake up, princess,” James’s voice said.

“Take this blindfold off, please,” she said. “I already know it’s you, James.”

“Sorry it had to be this way, sweetheart,” he said. “But that’s the way things are now. Everyone’s out for themselves.”

“I helped you, James,” she said. “You would have starved or dehydrated without what I gave you. And now you’ve kidnapped me?”

“Yeah, I’m so grateful for your candy bars and bags of potato chips. You’re a nice girl, Liz. Very trusting. But that’s not what this is about.”

“Yeah, sweetie, it’s nothing personal,” said the other voice. “We just need some information.”

“Let me go!” Liz said, struggling against the rope. “Let me go and I won’t tell the others what you’ve done.”

“Sorry, Liz,” James said. “We’ve got to keep you contained for now.”

“Well, at least take this blindfold off me,” she pleaded.

One of them grabbed her chin roughly, his hands icy against her skin. “This ain’t about what you want. Don’t you get that?”

It was the other man, whose breath reeked and whose voice had a mean edge to it.

“This is how this is going to work. If you play nice and tell us what we want, we might let you live. If you try to be the hero and save your friends, you’re as dead as they’re going to be.”

Liz groaned and struggled, kicking against the floor. It was a wooden floor, she could tell from the sound it made as she kicked it. And it sounded like they were in a small room -- the sounds didn’t project or echo at all.

She stopped struggling when she realized they were laughing at her. She couldn’t get free, anyway.

“Cut that out,” the cold one said. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“What do you want? The lodge? They’ll shoot you before you can get in.”

“Not if we shoot them first,” James said. His voice had lost all the gentleness it had when he had spoken to her those times in the woods. Now, his voice had a detached, cruel tone to it.

“Yeah, we’ll get rid of your little friends there, and then we’ll have that nice setup all to ourselves,” the other one said.

“Why do you need our lodge?” Liz asked. “You have shelter here, and you can scavenge for food in stores and homes.”

“Why would we do that when you and your pals have such a pimped out place right here in these woods? A nice big house, well water, weapons, food reserves, and you even got some gardens started for us.”

Liz gasped. “You’ve been spying on us all along.”

“If you cooperate, we’ll let you live long enough to plant that garden for us,” James continued. “Some baked potatoes would sure hit the spot.”

“You’ll never take that lodge,” Liz sputtered.

“Sure we will,” the cold one said. “With your help, of course.”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

James ignored her. “Where are the traps located on the property?”

“I’m not talking to you,” she said stubbornly.

The cold, abrupt sting of a hand slapping her face surprised her, and she recoiled, sucking her breath in.

“It’s time for you to cooperate, princess.”

“We need to know the security system for that lodge,” James said.

Liz cringed from the sharp blow she had received. She didn’t want to talk to them, much less give them information about Nick’s lodge, but she was terrified of being hit again. Not having her vision added to her terror -- she never knew what to expect.

“There is none,” she said, her voice trembling.

“You’re lying,” the other one said.

“I saw you, the tall guy, and that kid laying traps today,” James said. “We know there’s something in place to protect the perimeter of the property.”

“It’s just trip wire,” she said, miserable and guilty for giving them information. “We were going to attach alarms to it, but we didn't get to that part yet. We were going to do that tomorrow.”

There was silence for a moment, and she imagined the two men looking at each other and communicating without words.

“What else is there? Sinkholes, explosives?”

Tears sprang to Liz’s eyes, but immediately were absorbed by the blindfold. She didn’t know what to do. What could she say that would save her and the others? She was at a loss. When she heard a movement at her side, she feared another slap, and she spoke up quickly.

“No, nothing like that.”

“Bear traps?”

“There’s nothing. There are no traps.”

There was silence again as the men paused for a moment.

“Where do they keep watch?”

Liz’s shoulders shook as she began to weep silently. She knew her mistakes would cost them all their lives now. She had only tried to help someone she thought was in need, but in the end her actions would get everyone killed. And now there was nothing she could do or say to keep them safe.

“We don’t keep watch,” she said, her voice cracking.

There was another beat of silence, then a strange noise from both of them. It took Liz a moment to realize what the noise was: they were laughing. But their laughter was so strange, so sinister sounding, that she almost didn’t recognize it as laughter. A wave of nausea passed over her.

“So you're telling us you people don't have any traps, any watch guards. Basically you have zero security.”

“I guess not,” she replied.

James let out a whoop and made a slapping sound on his thigh. Even with the blindfold, Liz could tell he wasn't nearly as feeble and weak as he had pretended to be in the woods.

“Wait, how do we know she’s not lying?” the cold one asked.

“Don’t worry, man, she’s not lying,” James said. “She’s such a goody two-shoes I don’t think she’s even capable of it.”

James grabbed her face. “Aren’t you, princess?” he spoke to her in a disgusting, cooing voice. “I had you wrapped around my finger from the beginning.”

With her vision gone, her hearing had become heightened. She heard footsteps approaching from behind the men, but they gave no indication they had heard the sound.

“Keep your hands off her,” said a deeper voice from behind the men. It was a new voice Liz hadn’t heard before. James instantly let go of her face and jumped back, taking a step away from Liz.

Judging from the timbre of the newcomer’s voice and the way the others deferred to him, Liz imagined him to be big and tall. His presence clearly startled James and the other guy.

“Oh hey, boss, sorry to wake you,” James said. “Just getting some information from our girl, here.”

“Well, keep your grubby hands to yourself,” he said.

“Sorry, just had to put a little pressure to make her talk.”

“What did she say?” the big one asked.

“Get this,” James said, laughing. “There’s no security at the lodge. They don’t even keep watch.”

“Or so she says,” the cold one said.

Liz heard heavy footsteps slowly approach her, then a big hand rest on the back of her head. The hand stroked her head surprisingly gently. Then suddenly, the man roughly grabbed her hair in his hand, pulling her head back. She gasped, her pulse racing. A chill went down her spine.

“You’re not lying to us, are you?” the deep voice asked.

Liz shook her head quickly. “No, I swear I’m not.”

“Because if you are, and if anything happens when we go over there -- if any of us gets so much as a paper cut -- you’re dead.”

Liz’s heart pounded, and she could feel herself shaking. Her mouth went dry, and her throat closed up. She nodded her understanding.

“Do you understand? Speak,” he commanded.

“Yes, I understand,” she said.

He let her go with a flick of his hand, and she gasped for air. Panic was taking her over. The first two men had been bad enough, but the third man was different from them. He wasn’t just mean or cruel. He had the cold indifference of a psychopath. She knew that he was capable of pure evil.

There was movement in the room as the men shuffled around. She heard the sound of metal clinking, and she imagined they were grabbing their weapons and preparing to leave.

“See you soon, sweetheart,” the big one said. “You’ve been very helpful. Maybe we’ll let you live when this is all over. You can stay with us in the lodge.”

The other two laughed, and she heard the sound of a door opening and footsteps exiting the room. Their voices grew fainter as they walked away, discussing their plan of attack. After a moment, there was silence. They were gone.

Liz moved quickly, furiously, twisting her hands in the rope to no avail. She had to get the blindfold off so she could see what she was doing.

She rolled over on her back, pushing herself onto her shoulders and head and swinging her legs up and over into a shoulder stand. She had practiced the pose dozens of times in her yoga routine, and it came naturally to her. She brought her knees to the floor beside her head. Using one knee to pin the tail end of the cloth against the floor, she moved her head out from under the cloth, finally wriggling free of the blindfold.

Out of breath, she came back to sitting and looked at her surroundings for the first time. It was a tiny, rustic log cabin that looked old and not very kept up. In fact, the ceiling looked so worn that it seemed like it could cave in at any moment. There was one main living space with a separate room that apparently was the bedroom where the third man had been sleeping.

The three men had been living here for at least a few days, she surmised by the clothes, gear and trash strewn about the place. She even recognized the wrappers from some of the food she had given James.

She pushed herself up to her knees to get a better view of the small space. She looked around for anything to help free her hands of the rope. She saw nothing sharp that she could cut the rope on, and she stamped her feet in frustration. Then her eyes fell on the candle that was burning in its holder in the middle of the kitchen table.

Standing up too quickly, she felt a little woozy. The blow to her head that had first knocked her unconscious had left her unsteady, and she took a moment to catch her balance. When she was steady again, she lifted her bound arms behind her, struggling to reach the candle. In the end she had to partially hoist herself up on the table and inch her arms toward the flame.

She held her breath as she felt the heat on her skin. One wrong move and she’d knock the candle over or otherwise put the flame out, and then she would be as good as dead, alone and incapacitated in the dark cabin. She guided the rope over the flame slowly, feeling the heat grow as the dry twine caught fire.

The heat was painful, and more tears came to her eyes. Biting her lip, she would not allow herself to cry out. She pulled her wrists apart, ripping the rope apart little by little as the fire weakened the fibers. The skin on her wrists was raw from the friction of the rope and now the fire, but she pulled at the rope without mercy. The fibers finally gave out, and she yanked her hands free.

The burning rope dropped to the floor and she stamped the small flame out. Moving quickly through the two rooms of the cabin, she saw that her own pistol was nowhere to be found. The men must have taken it with them. But it didn’t matter -- she’d have to go without it.

She moved toward the door and rejoiced to find it unlocked, stepping out into the cool, dark night. She fumbled in her pocket for the small flashlight she carried, and clicked it on, trying to orient herself.

Sweeping the light over the cabin and the surrounding woods, terror closed in around her. She had no idea where she was. She had been unconscious when they had carried her to this cabin, and the area was unknown to her.

Her mind raced as she gasped for air. She had gotten free of the rope and blindfold, but that was just the beginning. Now she had to find a way back to the lodge, and she had to arrive before those men to warn the others. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she searched for the answer.

She lifted her head toward the sky and opened her eyes. It was a clear night without clouds, and the first quarter moon was just above the horizon. The stars were bright, and the Big Dipper came into view quickly. Memories from the camping trips with her family came rushing back to her. She and her brother had been little, bundled up against the chilly night, as their parents explained how to find true north.

Just as she did all those years ago, she located the two stars forming the outer edge of the Big Dipper's bowl, then traced a line from those stars to the last, brightest star of the Little Dipper’s handle. True north. She turned to face it.

Both times she had seen James, he had approached from pretty much due south, and when he had retreated, he had returned to the south as well. So she had to go north.

She set out running, and she crossed the small clearing the cabin was situated in quickly, arriving at the edge of the forest. The woods were thick there, she saw as she lit the area with her flashlight, but as she entered them she saw a trail. She froze when she saw it. It must be the trail the men had taken. Suddenly worried they might see her light, she turned her flashlight off and waited a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Liz felt her throat closing up as she weighed her options. She couldn’t risk taking the same trail as the men and getting herself shot when they found her. She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm and think clearly.

She turned east and walked along the border of the clearing and the forest, hoping some other idea would come to her. She saw what looked to be a narrow, faint trail, perhaps used by animals as they moved through the forest. Reorienting herself with the North Star, she calculated that the trail was heading roughly north-northeast. She would have preferred to have gone due north, but she had to take the chance on this narrow path. She was out of other options.

She hurried down the little trail, using only the glow of the stars and the moon to light her way. Her eyes had adjusted to the low light, and she was surprised at how well she could see to travel through the dark forest. Still, though, she could only see a step or two in front of her, but she charged on, ignoring the branches that lashed at her face and scratched her hands and arms as she pushed herself forward. She stumbled and tripped numerous times, once even falling on her hands and knees, but she pushed herself to her feet, not stopping to even check herself for injuries.

She fixed her eye on the North Star from time to time as she moved to keep track of the general direction she was traveling. She was still heading just east of north. She didn’t know where this trail would take her, nor did she know how far she needed to walk until she would have to turn off toward the lodge. She only hoped that the lodge was not on the west side of the main trail the men had taken. If so, she feared she would not make it before the men.

Her mind kept returning to macabre possibilities. She was terrified of running into those three horrible men. She didn’t doubt they would shoot her right there. And if they beat her to the lodge, she imagined the worst. She had spoken the truth to those men – there was basically no security system at the lodge. No traps, no alarms, and no one had been keeping watch. She suddenly realized how vulnerable the group had been all along.

Another wave of guilt swirled around the fear in her troubled mind. She should have told the others about James the first time she saw him. Her only intention had been to do good, but it had backfired dramatically. She had trusted him, thinking that he was alone and in need of help, but she had been so wrong. She shook her head, pushing the useless thoughts away for now. She had to get to the lodge before the men launched a surprise attack on the others.

After several minutes, she thought she heard voices. She froze, holding her breath but unable to still her heart which was pounding in her ears. It was the men, she was sure. But their voices were far away, and she couldn’t be sure where they were relative to her position. She scanned the area for the light of their flashlights, but she saw nothing.

The voices seemed to be getting closer, which must mean that they were approaching from behind, and she was ahead of them. She hadn’t heard any gunshots, so they had not yet reached the lodge. And the fact that they were talking meant they were not yet near it, or else they wouldn’t risk anyone hearing their voices. That gave her hope.

She continued forward as silently as she could, stopping every so often to listen for them again. Her fear consumed her, but it was also the fuel that pushed her forward. She had to get to the lodge before the men.

Liz had no idea how long she’d been walking. It could have been an hour, or it could have been twenty minutes. But she pushed on through the dark night, determined to find her way back to the others and warn them in time.

A pile of rocks a few feet ahead caught her eye. She approached it and looked around. Her narrow little path had intersected a small trail. Suddenly, she realized that she knew where she was standing. She had arrived at the trail that ran between the lodge and their parked vehicles. She recognized the pile of rocks as one of the cairns she had assembled her first trip alone to retrieve her gun, when she had first seen James. She had knocked the other cairns over that day, but she must have missed this one.

Liz quietly dismantled the pile, just in case the men behind her used it as a signpost. Then she turned right onto this trail and headed east toward the lodge, moving swiftly and silently through the quiet, dark woods. She suddenly felt vulnerable on this more open trail, knowing that the men would likely take it as well. She only hoped they wouldn’t spot her – or hear her – ahead of them.

34

Nick took a sip of the lukewarm coffee and set the mug down. It was instant coffee, and it had quickly cooled off while he waited in the chilly night, but he still appreciated having something to keep him alert. It had been a long day, and his body wanted rest. But he wouldn’t rest knowing Liz was out there, and that there were people up to no good in the woods nearby.

From his vantage point he could see the house and the meadow. He sat in a chair perched on the slope that ran behind the tool shed. He had been on guard since he and Jessa got home, having refused Charlie’s offer to take the position. Nick wanted to be ready.

He stood up to stretch his legs and walk around a bit. He didn’t know what had happened to Liz, but he was determined to get her back safe and sound.

His dedication to the young woman he had just met days ago surprised him a little. He realized that this group of survivors he had formed meant more to him than he had suspected. After losing Kaitlyn and Owen, he imagined he’d be alone in the world. But now that Liz, Charlie, Jessa, and Mia had come into his life, he felt a kinship with them. They belonged here, and they were probably the closest thing to family he had left. He wasn’t going to let some thugs hiding out in the woods capture any of them.

He swept his eyes over the meadow below. A movement to the west caught his eye, and he readied his rifle. Squinting, he craned his neck to get a better look. What he saw made his chest tighten.

There was a person running from the edge of the forest and entering the meadow. He aimed his rifle and flashlight in the direction of the movement. Realizing it was Liz, he lowered his weapon. He jogged down the slope as she ran up the hill. As she approached, he could see that she had been through hell. She had been hit on the head, and there was a bloody gash on her forehead. Blood and scrapes covered her arms and face, presumably from running through the woods.

When she got close enough for him to see her face, he felt fear leap through his throat. Instead of being relieved to make it back home, she was terrified.

“They’re behind me!” she said, running toward him.

Liz was feeling ill from fear and exhaustion from having run so far without a break, but she still pushed on. She was glad to see Nick outside with his gun, but she knew the men would be arriving at any moment.

“Who?” he asked, looking her over.

“The men who kidnapped me,” she said, panting as she pushed ahead toward the darkened lodge. She wanted to get out of the open and behind cover. “They’re going to try to take the lodge. We have to get inside. Now.”

He helped her inside. “How many?”

“Three of them.”

He opened the door for her and she ran inside, not stopping until she got to Charlie’s room. Nick glanced back at the woods one last time before he stepped inside, but he saw nothing.

“Charlie!” Liz called as she pounded on his door. “Wake up!”

She moved to Jessa’s room and threw the door open, walking over to the bed and shaking her. “You have to wake up now! They’re coming!”

Jessa groaned, still asleep, and Liz shook her by the shoulders. “Wake up, wake up,” she pleaded.

While Liz tried to rouse Jessa, Nick got his weapons ready and stationed himself at the window, keeping his eye on the stillness outdoors.

“You’re back,” Jessa said, finally realizing that Liz was in front of her. “What’s wrong?”

“Get up and get your gun!” Liz said. “Three men are on their way right now!”

Jessa finally understood and swung her feet onto the floor. After a moment’s pause, she sprang into action, grabbing her pistol.

Charlie burst out of his room holding his rifle, instantly ready for action. He moved to Nick’s side, where Nick informed him what was happening in a low voice.

Mia opened the door of her bedroom and looked out, frightened by all the noise but not seeing anything in the dark house. Liz rushed to her side, and Mia threw her arms around her neck when she saw her.

“You came back!” she said.

Liz returned the hug quickly, then scooted Mia back in her bedroom. “Stay in here and don’t come out until it’s all over, OK? Hide in the closet, and don’t open it until one of us comes for you and tells you it's safe. Don’t light any candles, and stay away from the window.”

Mia looked scared and confused, but retreated into the room as she was told.

Nick and Charlie waited crouched down by the windows on the west side near the door, and Jessa moved to the south-facing window in the living room. Nick handed Liz a rifle, and motioned for her to take the window on the east side. Pushing open the window, she pointed the barrel of the gun into the night air, and positioned herself so that she could just see out the window.

“Stay down as much as you can,” Nick whispered to the others, his eye still watching the meadow below. “Remember your breathing, Liz,” he said. She was grateful for the reminder, because she had been panting, and she needed to take a few deep breaths to slow her respiration down. Otherwise, if she needed to shoot, her aim would be shaky.

They waited in silence for several minutes, seeing and hearing nothing. Liz’s heart was still pounding. Suddenly she froze, her eyes going wide.

“I have to get to the bedroom!” she whispered. “They think you’re all asleep. They’ll try to come in that way.”

Without waiting for a response from the others, driven by panic, she began to move away from the windows, walking while crouched down.

A movement at the edge of the forest caught Nick's eye just as she spoke.

“Wait!” he said. “Get down!”

Before she could respond, she heard a loud sound of a shot being fired and glass breaking. An unimaginably powerful force knocked her forward onto the floor.

Pain was all she could focus on for a moment. The sharp, searing, fiery pain in her lower leg. She realized she’d been shot, but she didn’t move her hand to the wound. She was afraid to feel it.

When her wits returned to her, she remembered she had to get to the bedroom. She was on the floor now, and she began to pull herself toward her target. Nick’s room was first, and it had the largest window, so she went toward it. The noise was deafening now, with shots ringing out from all sides. Bullets shot into the walls and windows, breaking glass. The noise and pain added to her confusion, but she tried to focus on what she needed to do.

Behind her, Jessa, Charlie, and Nick were shooting at the men. One man had taken cover behind the latrine, and one was behind the tool shed. Nick ducked as the window shattered by his head, then took more shots in the direction of the man behind the shed.

“One’s down!” Nick said as he watched one of the men get hit, fall to the ground and drop his weapon at his side.

Liz was almost at the bedroom door. She gritted her teeth and grabbed the door frame, pulling herself into Nick’s room. She hid herself from view of the window behind the foot of the bed and waited with her gun ready. The deafening noise of gunfire continued outside in the living area.

She froze when she heard the window rattle, then open. Holding her breath, she watched as the third man, the largest and most threatening, pushed the window up quietly and efficiently. He hoisted his body onto the window sill. Liz took a deep breath, long and quiet. Just in the moment he ducked his head under the raised window and pulled his torso inside, she aimed her weapon and squeezed the trigger.

He was blasted backward, his body thrown outside the window. She seized up, her breath caught again in her lungs, too afraid and too shocked to move.

Outside the bedroom, the gunfire had stopped abruptly. She heard the voices of her friends, but what they said was not registering in her brain. She only became aware of Nick rushing into the room with his gun aimed toward the window. Approaching it slowly, he pointed his gun through the window opening, and then he shot twice more at the body that was lying just outside the house. Soon he was at Liz’s side.

“Are you OK?” he asked loudly. “Can you hear me, Liz?”

She tried to answer, but she felt so tired. Her ears were ringing, and his voice sounded so distant. She tried to tell him she was freezing, but she couldn’t find the strength. She saw Charlie's face, and Jessa’s. And then she closed her eyes.

35

September 10

“Jessa! She’s waking up!”

At first Liz was filled with fear, thinking she was still held captive by those three awful men. She frowned and began to move her arms as if to break free of the rope again. She heard Mia’s voice, but it took a moment to register.

I’m back home at the lodge, she thought. She opened her eyes to see Mia look down at her, smiling. In a moment, Jessa’s face appeared, too.

“You’re awake!” Mia said. “I was so worried!”

Liz managed a weak smile as she oriented herself to her surroundings. “I’m OK…” she said in a faint voice.

Jessa took her hand. “You don’t have to talk. Just rest.”

Liz closed her eyes again for a moment. Her body felt heavy and weak. She opened her eyes once more, looking at the two faces above her and trying to make sense of what had happened. It was daytime. The horrible night was over.

“Is everything OK?” Liz asked.

Jessa nodded while Mia answered. “The bad guys are all dead. We’re safe.”

Liz felt relieved as she looked up to see Mia. Liz was lying in her own bed and her own room. She felt pain in her left leg, and looked down to see her lower leg wrapped in bandages.

“I got shot,” she said, remembering.

“Yes, you did,” Jessa said. “But you’re going to be OK.”

She handed her some juice and three pills. “Take these. Painkillers and antibiotics.”

Jessa helped prop her up in the bed with a pillow, and Liz took the pills and swallowed down the juice.

“We stopped the bleeding and I gave you some stitches,” Jessa said. “It was good you passed out, because I’m sure it would have hurt like hell.”

“It hurts like hell right now,” Liz said, wincing.

Jessa brushed the dark, wavy hair out of Liz’s face. “I know it does. The pills will help. But your leg’s going to be all right. You were really lucky, Liz. The bullet went through the belly of your calf muscle, and came clean out. Not too much area was affected.”

“I'll be able to walk again?”

Jessa smiled. “For sure. It was pretty superficial – no bone, all in the muscle. It was just a little bit more than a grazing. Could have been so much worse.”

Jessa stroked Liz’s hair. She was relieved to see Liz coming back to life little by little.

Liz felt hungry all of a sudden, and Mia fed her a few bites of soup. The little girl couldn’t resist chatting to her friend.

“I stayed in my room the whole time, just like you told me to,” Mia said. “It was really scary! And so loud. But it’s over now.”

Liz smiled at the little girl peering down at her. Mia was gifted with a keen intellect, but she was as innocent and earnest as any little girl. “I'm so glad it's over,” Liz said between bites.

The warm food felt good in Liz’s stomach, and she was revived a little.

“The guy that was coming inside…” Liz started to ask. “Did I… kill him?”

She looked up to see Nick in the doorway. “You saved all our lives by shooting him. He would have snuck into the lodge and taken us by surprise.”

Liz’s face twisted in guilt. “No, it was all my fault this happened in the first place.”

“What are you talking about?” Charlie said, standing beside Nick. “They kidnapped you and were trying to kill us. If you hadn’t come back to warn us, we might have been slaughtered.”

Liz shook her head. “No, no. It was my fault.”

She blinked back the tears as they all protested, but she held her hand up to quiet them.

“I had seen James, one of those guys, before,” she said weakly. “Twice before.”

Nick frowned and sat on the bed opposite Liz. “What do you mean? When did you see him?”

“The first time was by the vehicles. I went there alone one morning soon after we arrived. He walked out of the woods and asked me for food and water. He said his friends had died and left him all alone. I thought he was starving.”

Charlie and Jessa looked at each other, but Nick waited for her to continue without a word.

“I gave him some food and water. Just a few things I had gotten from the Olsen store. I couldn’t say no to him, not when I had been so lucky.”

“And the second time you saw him?” Nick asked.

Liz felt the tears fall down her cheeks, unable to contain them now. “I’m so scared to tell you. I feel like such a fool.”

“It’s OK, Liz. I need to know this,” Nick said.

“The second time was yesterday, when you and Jessa were in Santa Fe. I was at the tool shed, and he just showed up again. Scared me half to death.”

“Yesterday?” Charlie asked, taking a seat next to Nick. “Where was I?”

“You and Mia were down laying the trip wire. When I went to the tool shed, James appeared out of nowhere and asked for more food. I told him I’d leave some out for him down by the truck.”

She took a deep breath.

“So I went down just before sunset to leave the food out, then I started walking back to the lodge. Before I could make it back here, though, they grabbed me.”

She looked down at her hands. “They hit me on the head, and I passed out. When I came to, I was at their cabin. Two of them wanted to know all about the security here. They asked about any traps we had and if there were any guards on duty. I tried not to answer, but they hit me, so I told them what I knew. They planned to take you guys by surprise and move into the lodge. I guess James had been spying on us the whole time, and just got me to trust him so he could get information and plan their attack.”

She looked up at Nick and the others. “I feel so ashamed. I’m so sorry that I put us all at risk by trusting James. I was just doing what I thought was right, but it was all a big mistake.”

There was silence for a moment, and Liz feared the worst. She was afraid she had lost their trust, their friendship.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled again, her voice shaky.

Nick took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’s OK, Liz. It’s still not your fault. This would have happened whether you helped James or not.”

Liz looked up. “You think so?”

He nodded. “I’m sure of it. They would have attacked sooner or later.”

“Yeah, those guys were psychos,” Jessa added. “It was horrible. They just snuck up on us and started shooting. It was brutal.”

“They wanted to take the lodge and our supplies, and they didn’t mind killing us to do it,” Charlie said. “I think they would have tried it with or without you, Liz.”

Liz smiled weakly. “Thanks for saying that. I still feel horrible about the whole thing. I know I shouldn’t have snuck around like that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Nick said. “We’ll have to talk about that later. We can’t have secrets from each other if this whole thing is going to work out, and we have to all be on the same page with how we use our resources.”

Liz nodded, looking back down at her lap.

“And Liz, you have to tell us if you see anyone else. Let us know if there’s someone who needs our help,” Nick said.

“I will, I promise,” she said. “My days of sneaking around behind your backs are over.”

“Good,” Charlie said, smiling. “I wouldn’t want you to give away the stash of candy Nick and Jessa brought back.”

Liz laughed. “I won’t, I swear.”

“One thing is for certain: we need to beef up the security on this place,” Nick said. He ran his hand through his hair. “We can’t let ourselves be so vulnerable.”

They all agreed, and planned to discuss it further. For now, though, Liz needed to rest. The three adults left the room, but Mia stayed a bit longer.

She sat at the foot of Liz’s bed.

“I’m sure happy to see you,” Liz told the little girl.

“Me, too,” Mia replied. “I was so scared I wouldn’t see you anymore when you disappeared. And then you looked so bad when they shot you.”

Her little face looked so worried and frightened. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

Liz took Mia’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m not going to leave you, sweetie. I’m not going anywhere.”

Mia nodded and smiled at Liz, then kissed her friend’s forehead.

“Talk to you later?” she said as she got up to leave the room.

“You betcha,” Liz said.

36

Nick found himself once again digging a grave. This time the act was not marked by grief over losing a loved one. The loss of life had sprung from the cruelty and senselessness of the three men. He did not relish the act of burying more bodies.

He was relieved that they had defeated the three invaders and defended their home and their own lives, though more death was not something he had hoped to see. He had already seen enough dying. It amazed him that the few people who had survived the horrible virus could be capable of more horrific acts.

He dug the hole in shifts with Charlie and Jessa, and the work thankfully went quickly. They didn’t speak much of the night before, but he knew it had shaken them all. To see those men enter the property and begin shooting with the intention of killing them and taking over their home chilled them all to the bone. People could be heartless. It was a fact that seemed to confront him often since the virus had claimed so many, leaving the remaining few to fight for resources.

Liz was inside resting, and he knew Mia was inside too. She didn’t want to stray too far from Liz. The little girl had become attached to Liz, and Nick was glad the two had formed a bond. It gave him hope to see that not all people had lost their capacity to love – the thing that made them human.

After burying the three men in the woods, they walked out to the vehicles. They were armed everywhere they went now, and their weapons had become part of them.

Making a few trips between the truck and the lodge with wheel barrows, they unloaded all the food and supplies he and Jessa had obtained. By the time they had brought it all inside, Liz was awake and feeling a little better. She heard all the commotion as they unpacked, and was animated by the festive mood. Nick and Charlie carried her into the living room where she could watch everything.

Liz saw that some of the windows had been broken, though the glass had been swept up. Nick saw her looking worriedly at the windows, and assured her they'd be able to replace them.

“I'll find some new windows somewhere, don't worry,” he told her. And it'll have to be soon, he thought grimly to himself.

But Jessa turned their attention toward more cheerful thoughts as she began to unpack the food. Seeing the abundance and variety of the scavenged cans and boxes lifted their spirits.

It was almost like Christmas as they distributed all the valuable goods found in Santa Fe. They filled the pantry to the brim with food, and then moved to the cupboards and cabinets. There was so much food that they had to move some of it out to the tool shed. They would later inventory all of it, but at first glance they were sure there would be enough to last them for a few months. Especially if they could hunt and fish, they wouldn’t go hungry before the spring. Nick was still concerned about the hunting trip that had yielded no kills, but he pushed that nagging worry away for now.

Everyone was happy to see the clothes Jessa had found for them – rugged work clothing from the garden supply store, and coveralls for cooler weather. Liz was especially excited to hear about the bags of soil and fertilizer they had brought back and stored in the shed. She began leafing through the garden books immediately. Then her face lit up in joy when she saw the hand cream and lip balm. Charlie grinned when Jessa tossed the bag of dried chile peppers in his lap.

Nick unpacked the boxes of ammo as the others chatted excitedly about their new treasures. He fell quiet, his thoughts returning to the horror of the previous night. He hoped they wouldn’t have to use their weapons again for home defense, but if they would, they were now well armed. He stacked the boxes and then returned to sit with the others.

He looked at the faces of those who had come together to form a sort of family in the midst of such catastrophe, and he hoped that he would be able to keep them safe. The void left by losing his wife and son would always be there, but he had to carry on. He knew they would keep fighting to stay alive. Life would continue, even though it would never be the same again.

They were survivors, left to find their way in a world that was unknown to them, among the ashes of civilization.

Nick knew they weren't alone. They would have to be prepared for more challenges and new threats from the dangers lurking in the mountains around them.

But for now, they were safe, well-fed, and happy. Nick smiled, looking them over, and hoped he could keep them that way.

* * *

Fight to Live

Prologue

Nick looked out at the front yard below. The night vision rifle scope gave him a clear view of the property. He shifted in the cramped space of the loft, every muscle tense.

The faint sounds of Charlie, Liz, and Jessa moving around had died down. That meant everyone was in position and waiting for his signal.

He heard the attackers before he saw them.

Another car door was shut quietly on the road, and gravel crunched underneath heavy boots.

They avoided the driveway, sticking to the woods as they climbed the hill toward the cabin. Then they came into view, one after another, each holding a rifle. Each new man emerging from the woods to approach the cabin made Nick’s chest tighten more. But he paid that no mind.

Fear, pain – those things were a given. What mattered was pushing through them to do what needed to be done. His focus was on the task at hand. Every nerve, every muscle was ready.

The attackers communicated silently with hand signals. They fanned out in the dark night to surround the cabin.

They thought they had the upper hand. Sure, they had more men and more guns, but they weren’t expecting Nick to be watching their every move from above with night vision. They weren’t expecting Nick to be ready and waiting for them.

The plan had to work. They had come too far, and lost too much, to fall prey to these lowlifes now. And he wouldn’t let that happen. Nick could take care of these men. From his sniper’s nest, he’d pick them off one by one.

He had to wait for just the right moment to begin. There was no room for error.

His mind flashed to the most vulnerable members of the group who were waiting in a safe place, hidden deep in the forest. If he made any mistakes, he couldn’t bear the thought of what might happen to them.

He pushed that thought out of his head. He wouldn’t fail them.

Nick was even more determined to protect his friends. He wouldn’t let them fall victim to these murderers.

Almost, almost.

One of them broke out into a run, charging toward the front door.

Now!

1

Like most of the country – and most of the world – the northern New Mexico resort town was empty. What had once been a small but bustling community of locals and a never-ending stream of tourists was now silent, except for the sound of the wind blowing through the cottonwoods.

A truck engine abruptly broke that eerie quiet. Nick Redmond drove his Silverado into the narrow valley, looking uneasily up and down the road.

Though he had been to this town many times before with his family, now he barely recognized the village without the usual flurry of activity: tourists flitting in and out of shops, deliveries to the restaurants, and the sound of children playing and dogs barking. The sounds had always been in the background, so commonplace that he had barely noticed them.

Until they were all gone. Now, their absence felt heavy, and the town had become dark and cold. Before, Nick had come to this town with his wife and son to shop for souvenirs or eat lunch while on vacation in New Mexico. Those days felt so long ago, and the mission he was currently on made the contrast between the old days and the new even sharper.

Two nights ago, his new home and makeshift family had been attacked. They had managed to defeat the invaders, but the experience had affected them all, leaving them on edge and wary. There had been damage to their home, as well – two windows had been broken. Rather than risking a trip to Santa Fe to a home supply store to replace them, he had decided to scavenge the windows in this small resort community.

Driving through the small downtown and into the residential end of town, he and Charlie selected a high-end faux-adobe home with lots of windows, and parked the truck in front.

"Keep watch out here," Nick said, slamming his truck door closed. “I'll go in to check it out.”

Having received no response to his knocks on the front door and windows, Nick chucked a rock through the glass panel of the front door and let himself inside.

Glancing around, the large home appeared to be vacant, though recently lived in. Dishes and food remains were scattered here and there through the living space; papers and books were strewn about. He walked to the French doors leading to the backyard. A few recent mounds of earth confirmed what he suspected: this had been the home of Hosta victims.

He bounded up the steps on the wide staircase to check the bedrooms upstairs. The children's bedrooms were empty, with the beds unmade and the rooms disordered like the space downstairs. The master bedroom revealed who had dug the graves: a dead body lay twisted up in the sheets on the bed. Thankfully, he had died facing away from the door, so Nick was spared the sight of the distorted grin the virus victims wore in their final living moments.

Nick shut the door and went to fetch Charlie.

"All dead inside," Nick said to Charlie, who was waiting by the truck. Nick motioned for him to follow him indoors.

Charlie nodded as Nick's eyes scanned up and down the road before they went back inside. "I think we can get a couple windows that will fit the broken ones back home," Nick said.

They found two windows in the living room that were the right size. They got to work quickly on the first window, prying off the interior and exterior trim before removing it. While Charlie hauled the window out to the truck's cargo bed and wrapped the window in some old blankets, Nick set to work prying off the trim around the second window.

As he removed the trim, his thoughts turned to the man lying dead upstairs, and he shuddered, realizing that the town was full of decaying bodies behind its closed doors. He wondered if all the inhabitants of this small town had died from the Hosta virus. Had there been any survivors?

Or – more importantly – had survivors from the cities moved in?

An upscale town like this would be an ideal location for survivors seeking refuge from the dangers of the cities. With the scattered springs throughout the area, there was plenty of fresh drinking water. And there was no shortage of fancy accommodations. The resorts, spas, and high-end homes meant a survivor could have his or her pick of a comfortable place to live.

Nick had always considered himself a fairly sociable man, friendly to strangers and new acquaintances. But now that the Hosta virus had wiped out 96 percent of humanity, law and order had gone with it. Even rules of human decency seemed to have disappeared. Especially after three men had tried to invade his lodge, he wasn't in the mood to make new friends. No one could be trusted, at least no one outside the group of friends he had assembled.

"Charlie!" Nick called out over his shoulder, wondering where he'd disappeared off to. It shouldn't take him this long to pack the window.

But there was no response to his call. Just the endless silence.

Nick sighed. The work would go a lot faster if Charlie were working on the exterior trim. Charlie was usually such a hard worker, and Nick wondered what was keeping him outside.

Nick’s thoughts turned to Jessa, Liz, and Mia back home. He hated leaving them alone, but this chore had to be done. They were taking turns doing around-the-clock guard duty these days, and Liz was on watch that afternoon. They had stationed her in a chair behind the tool shed, the high point of the property. Her leg was still healing, but she could shoot a gun if need be. Though they had taken new measures to increase the security back home, he still didn’t like being away. He wanted to get this work done and get back to the lodge as soon as possible.

Suddenly, Nick heard the sound of a car engine in the distance. His stomach clenched as he listened to the vehicle go around the first bend in the road that led into downtown. The vehicle was approaching, and it wasn't good news. A car meant strangers. Worst of all, a car meant possible confrontation.

Nick set down his tools and grabbed his rifle, then crossed the spacious living room in great strides. With his throat tightening, he turned the doorknob and quickly stepped outside.

His eyes fell on Charlie, who was standing behind the front end of the truck, holding his own rifle. Then Nick looked to the road and saw what had disturbed the unearthly silence in this small town.

He watched as a sedan approached them on the two-lane state road just a short distance from where they stood. A middle-aged, large, bearded man drove the car, and a younger, thinner man rode in the passenger seat. Nick and Charlie raised their rifles as the vehicle drew near.

Just before the sedan drove past the driveway, the passenger turned toward them and shifted his gaze to Nick. The hair on the back of Nick's neck rose as he saw the icy, vacant eyes of the passenger. The younger man stared at Nick directly, his flat eyes cold and detached.

He had seen that look in the eyes of the men who had attacked the lodge two nights before. It was the hardened look of a man without a conscience.

The car decelerated slightly, as if they might stop after all, and Nick held his breath. The driver looked back at them in his rear-view mirror, his beady eyes studying them carefully as the car slowed down.

"Go on, there's nothing for you here," Charlie muttered under his breath.

Finally, the driver’s eyes returned to the road in front of him and he picked up his speed. The sedan disappeared around the next bend.

Nick and Charlie both breathed a sigh of relief. They had gotten lucky.

"Whew, that was close," Charlie said, still clutching his Remington. “It looked like they were going to stop for a minute there. And they didn't look like they were the type to stop just to say hello.”

“No, they didn't look too friendly at all,” Nick agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. He shuddered, thinking of the hostile way the passenger had stared at him.

"It's just as well," he said. "I'd rather not talk to strangers these days."

"Yeah, after the other night, I think we're all a little tense," Charlie said, kicking the dirt as if to release tension. "You still want to get that second window?"

Nick nodded. “Yeah, I think we're in the clear now. Those guys are probably just passing through. And we need those windows bad. Let’s just get this done fast and get out of here.”

“All right, I'll go around back and pry off that exterior trim."

After they loaded the two windows up in the truck, they did a quick search of the home for anything useful they could take with them. No one was going to claim the things in the house anytime soon. No sense in letting the stuff go to waste.

Charlie started in the kitchen, loading up a small collection of canned and dried food and paper goods. In the bathroom, he found some over-the-counter painkillers and toiletries. He smiled when he saw the ladies' skin care products in the medicine cabinet. He threw the bottles and jars in the bag, hoping it would win him some extra points with Liz and Jessa.

Nick poked around the garage. Jackpot. He found a small gasoline storage tank with wheels and some gas stabilizer, which would keep the fuel viable longer. He also grabbed some bottles of car fluids he could use to top up their vehicles.

Inside the home, he glanced around the living room. There was nothing they needed. Walking into the home office, he stopped in his tracks. An enormous collection of books stretched across the wall. A smile spread across his face – this would make everyone happy. He couldn't make all their problems go away, but at least he could bring home something good for them.

He filled up a couple of suitcases he found in the closet with fiction and nonfiction. He knew everyone's morale had been low, and they needed some kind of entertainment to cheer them up. Mia especially had been complaining about the lack of reading material. He found some thick books on history and science that he knew she would enjoy.

Within ten minutes they had all the new supplies loaded and were back on the road. Nick was relieved to have found windows that would fit the broken ones back at the lodge. The nights were getting chilly, and improving security at the homestead was a priority.

Charlie took a package of Oreos out of his backpack and tore into the wrapper. "You want any?" he asked, holding the package out to Nick.

Nick started to refuse, then thought better of it. "What the hell?" he said, smiling, as he grabbed a handful of the cookies.

Before the Hosta virus, he had been avoiding junk food to try to get his cholesterol down. His wife, Kaitlyn, and his doctor had seemed to conspire against him to restrict all his favorite foods. But these days, beggars couldn't be choosers. Besides, he had a lot more things to worry about than high cholesterol.

"Now if only we had some tunes," Charlie said. "I sure miss the radio."

“Same here,” Nick said.

He had never realized how valuable it had been until it was gone. Even if he didn't like what was playing on the radio or what was on TV, their very existence had meant the world was working. It had meant they weren’t all alone.

As flawed as it had been, connection with people through technology had been a symbol of modern civilization. Even though the comfort and security they provided had been false, in that moment he wanted to hear a voice, any voice, broadcast using modern technology. Some kind of reassurance.

But modern civilization had fallen, and with it, all the symbols of security most people had come to depend on. Now, there was no reassurance. Now, Nick had to rely on himself to make sure everything would be okay.

Nick glanced at the conifer forest beyond the truck window. They would be home in less than an hour, and he settled in for the ride. They were both quiet, lost in their own thoughts.

A movement in the rear-view mirror suddenly caught Nick’s eye and he looked up. He squinted at what he saw in the mirror.

The adrenaline instantly began to course through his veins. Charlie, immediately on guard, reached for his rifle and turned around to see what was behind them.

The sedan that had passed them earlier was now following them.

2

Matthew Redmond stood in the pantry of his kitchen, holding a checklist written by his father. Matt had been making notes in the margins of the list as he consumed some of the items. In the two weeks since the last grocery shopping trip his family had made, he had put quite a dent in the pantry's supplies.

He wasn't too worried, however, since there were several other closets filled with food stores, as well as a large storage unit outside the ranch-style home with carefully organized and updated supplies of food.

He went out to the storage shed now, just to look at everything and compare it to his father's meticulous notes. Seeing the stockpiles of food gave him comfort, and he had been doing it regularly the past few days. His parents had prepared well, making sure the home was well-stocked with food, water, medical supplies and all the other necessary elements of survival.

But it wasn't enough. With his parents and sister dead, Matt was all alone, and he was in desperate need of companionship. Today felt even lonelier than usual, with the solitude weighing down on him.

Today was his thirteenth birthday.

Closing and locking the door to the storage shed, he walked past the garden to the edge of the property, where his family members were buried.

His ten-year-old sister Ashley had died first, and it had destroyed his parents. He was horrified to see them reduced to ghosts of their former selves. The two people who had always been pillars of strength in his life were falling apart. With them, his world was shattering as well.

By the time the Hosta virus had claimed Ashley, both of his parents had already been gray and ill, and he watched as each day they slipped further away.

His father had buried his sister, and then he had been claimed by Hosta. Matt had helped his mother drag the heavy body into the backyard, where they buried him, his mother sobbing the entire time. Once the act was completed, she lay down in the hammock stretched between two post oak trees nearby. He urged her to return to the house where she could rest in bed, but she refused. He knew it was to spare him the effort of dragging her body outside once she passed. He prayed for a miracle, that she would somehow be saved, but in the end, he lost her too. He had to bury his beloved mother. His life had turned into his worst nightmare.

The three graves lay before him, and fresh tears came to his eyes. As unfathomable as it seemed, his entire family was dead.

At first, his middle-aged next-door neighbor Fred Hanley had come over to check on Matt while his parents were dying. Everyone else on their street had fallen to the virus, and they were the only two survivors for a while. Matt was thankful to see a friendly face each day, and the regular visits kept the terror that was building inside him at bay.

But one day Mr. Hanley didn’t come to visit, and Matt went next door to check on him. The man was lying in bed, looking gray and ill. He motioned for Matt to come close, and Matt approached the bed. His heart sank as he saw that Fred was so weak his voice came out thin and wheezy as he struggled to breathe.

“You’ll have to fend for yourself, Matt,” he said.

Matt nodded, tears springing to his eyes yet again. He brushed them away, annoyed at what he considered signs of his immaturity when he needed to be anything but childlike.

“You’ll have to do it now, son,” Fred said. “You don’t have any choice.”

Matt shook his head furiously. Anything but that.

“No, I can’t, Mr. Hanley. I can’t drive that far. I’m scared,” Matt pleaded.

“You have to get out to New Mexico, to your father’s lodge,” Fred croaked out.

“What if there’s no one out there? What if I’m all alone in the woods there? I can’t… I can’t do it,” Matt said firmly.

“You have to try. Maybe one of your father’s family survived and made it out there. You’re going to survive, Matt. It’s not far-fetched to think that someone else in your family has the genes to make it through this thing, too.”

The tears were coming fast now as Matt watched Mr. Hanley grow weaker and weaker.

“I – I can’t talk much more now. I know you can do it, Matt. I have faith in you, son.”

His hand squeezed Matt’s and then let go, weak from the tiny bit of exertion. His eyes closed and he fell into a fitful sleep, his face revealing the agony he was in.

Matt stayed by his side the last few hours of Mr. Hanley’s life. When the smile appeared on the man’s face, he knew it was over. After the man drew his last breath, Matt returned to his own home. He locked the house up as best he could and retreated to his bedroom.

The days had slipped by one after the other. At first, he was lost in grief, barely moving out of his bed, uninterested in living. The lights went out at some point, and he burned candles all night long. Little by little, hunger drove him to action, and he started to cook for himself. Fear was his only companion, and it was constant. He carried a shotgun with him everywhere. His dad had taught him how to shoot it, but that had only been at a shooting range. He wasn't sure he'd be able to pull the trigger to defend his home, and he hoped he wouldn't have to test himself any time soon.

The food stores his family had stockpiled so carefully would be able to feed him for months, if not years. That wasn't an immediate concern. The loneliness was what plagued him.

His mind returned to Mr. Hanley’s words. What if he was right? What if someone else in his family had survived the virus?

The lodge was 800 miles away – twelve hours by car going the speed limit, and Matt doubted he’d be able to drive that fast.

I can’t even drive up the driveway. Forget it. There’s no way I can drive to New Mexico.

He looked at the bicycle parked against the garage. For days, he had tried to get the courage together to ride his bike around the city, looking for other survivors. His suburban neighborhood in the East Texas town of Tyler had been quiet for nearly two weeks now, and it had been about ten days since Mr. Hanley had died, more or less. Matt had lost track of the days.

But he feared what he might find outside his neighborhood. What if there was looting, rioting, or violence? He was just a scrawny kid, completely unprepared to defend himself.

Besides, if he didn’t leave the street, he wouldn’t have to risk facing what he feared the most: The possibility of being the last person alive.

The thought terrified him. He had never liked being alone, preferring the company of his family and friends to time on his own. Now, he was haunted by the uneasy silence that surrounded him. All the noises and sounds that humans made had ceased. He was living on his own, with no one to talk to. He didn’t know how he would survive – not just physical survival, but the psychological burden of horrible loneliness.

Leaving the house to scout the city meant he could find his worst fear: no one alive.

Humming a nondescript tune just to break the silence, he walked back inside and locked the door behind him. Returning to the pantry, he looked at the baking supplies on the top shelf. Boosting himself up on a stepping stool, he grabbed a boxed strawberry cake mix and a container of strawberry frosting. Though what he wanted most of all was his family, he figured a cake would be the least he could do to recognize his birthday.

He had watched his mother make cakes from boxes before, though he wasn’t sure he could do it. He was relieved to see instructions on the back. Easy. Just follow the directions. But his heart sank when he saw that he would need three eggs. He had eaten the last of the eggs days ago.

He looked in the cookbooks on the shelf. One had a section on substitutes: He could use ground flax seed soaked in water as a replacement. He knew his mother had used flax meal on her oatmeal. He shrugged, deciding to give it a try.

He'd have to make another adjustment. He couldn't use the oven without electricity. He'd have to use a match to light the stove top burners and fry the cake mix like pancakes.

As he mixed the ingredients together, his thoughts turned to what his birthday would have been had his family survived. His parents usually threw him a party, inviting his friends from school and the neighborhood. This year, they were going to have a video game marathon. He glanced at the now useless TV and game console. He sometimes missed the electronics. But the absence left by his family was much greater. At that moment, he regretted all the time spent playing video games when he could have enjoyed his family’s company.

Making the food gave him a project, and he was glad for it. He wasn’t in much of a celebratory mood, but his mother always made a big deal of birthdays. Making something reminiscent of a cake seemed to somehow honor her memory. As he ate the decent-tasting strawberry pancakes, he thought about how his mother had fussed over him.

“My baby is becoming a teenager!” she had gushed many times during the weeks before she got sick.

He had felt excited to turn thirteen. It would mean more freedom, more independence. He laughed bitterly at that. Now he had all the freedom in the world, and he was miserable.

He grabbed his shotgun and went upstairs to spend a sleepless night waiting for the sun to come up, as had become usual.

He longed to return to the days of early childhood, when his family was always around and there were no impossible choices.

3

"What the hell?

What are they doing here?" Charlie asked, incredulous.

"I don't know, but I don't think they want to make friends," Nick said, watching the sedan approach in the rear-view mirror.

"Are you going to try to lose them?"

"I don't want to turn this into a game of cat and mouse, but I'll pick up the speed and see if they stay on my tail," Nick said.

He applied the gas, accelerating gradually. The sedan followed closely behind. Nick saw them looking at him with the same icy stares as before.

"Come on, man, you can out run them!" Charlie said, twisting around in his seat to get a better look. "We can't lead them back to the lodge. Step on the gas."

"I don't want them to think they have the upper hand," Nick muttered. "They're not going to run us off."

“What if they have guns?" Charlie asked nervously. "I'm not in the mood for another shootout like the other night."

"Neither am I, believe me. That's the last thing I want," Nick said. "I just don't want to escalate this thing if I don't need to."

He saw a small gravel road that turned off the highway in a quarter mile.

"I'm going to turn down this road. If they follow us, I'll park the truck and see what they want. Just follow my lead," Nick said warily.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning onto the gravel road, careful to maintain his usual speed. His grip on the wheel tightened even further when he glanced in the side mirror to see them turn down the road as well.

Slowing down his speed, he turned the truck perpendicular to the road as he parked with the driver side facing the sedan. He motioned for Charlie to get out, and he followed Charlie out the side door as the sedan drew to a stop fifty feet behind them.

Nick and Charlie drew their rifles and pointed them toward the sedan as they positioned themselves behind the front end of the truck.

They watched as the heavyset, bearded driver stepped out of the car with a smirk on his face. The passenger followed suit, but his face was expressionless. They both stood behind their open car doors. The driver held his hands up, palms facing out.

"We're not armed!" he called out. His partner showed his hands as well.

Nick squinted at them, not moving from his position. He didn’t trust these guys any farther than he could throw them. "What the hell do you want? Why are you following us?"

“Somebody's awfully jumpy,” the driver said. "Can't a guy try to be sociable these days?"

"We don't need any new friends," Nick said, scowling. "Cut the crap. What do you want?"

The driver dropped his hands and leaned with his elbows on the car door. "Cut right to the chase, don’t you? Well, we thought you might like to make a trade. Money don’t mean much these days."

He took a couple steps to walk around the car door.

"Stay right where you are!" Nick growled.

"Geez, you need to relax, man," the driver said. "Ain't that right, Smith? Don't you think this guy needs to take a load off?" He grinned at his partner, who was now also leaning on his car door, still fixing Nick and Charlie with a vacant stare.

"Sure do. Life's too short to get all upset like that," Smith replied mechanically in a monotone, never taking his eyes off the two men in front of him.

"Tell me what you want to trade and I won't shoot you," Nick said flatly.

The driver whistled. "All right, all right, don't lose your head. You must've been a businessman before the shit hit the fan. Real type A personality."

Nick hadn’t been a businessman, but he wasn’t in the mood to correct him. The driver chuckled and picked something from his teeth before continuing.

“I guess you could call me a sort of businessman as well. It’s my new line of work. The world falling apart was pretty bad, but it also opened up all kinds of new doors for people like me. I like to think–”

“You got thirty seconds,” Nick barked.

"Well, you see, fellows, my partner and I are in a delicate situation. It's kind of funny, actually, when you think about it...” He laughed again, then cleared his throat. “Seeing as how we're unarmed, and there aren't any guns to be found these days – all the stores are cleared out of them, you know. I thought you might have some firearms to spare. A man really needs some protection right about now, don't you think?"

Nick paused, looking the two men over in disgust. "What are you trading?"

A grin crept over the driver's face once again. He motioned to his partner. "Smith, go get the stuff. Let's show these gentlemen our fine merchandise."

Smith turned to move toward the back of the car, but he froze when he heard Nick's voice.

"I told you not to move! I don't need to see what you're trading. Just tell me."

"It's cool, man. It's just that some people are visual learners, you know? But you're more the auditory type, is that right?" He laughed, throwing his head back in the blazing sun. "I get it. Smith, run down our inventory for the man."

Smith paused a beat, then spoke in his thin voice. "I got enough oxycodone to make even a guy like you relax. I’ve also got some top-notch hydroponic herb, China White, and the best crystal in the whole Southwest."

"Even better than Heisenberg's shit," the driver said, laughing again. "No offense, man, but seeing as how you're so high-strung, I'd steer clear of that. For you, I'd recommend the oxycodone or the herb. A kilo of herb for a rifle. Or the oxycodone for a rifle. If you're into China White, that'll be both the guns. Your choice. Of course, I'll need some ammo to go along with that.”

He licked his lips, looking at Charlie’s and Nick's rifles.

The guns were still trained on the two men. Nick looked them over one last time before he spoke. The driver, still grinning, lowered his face slightly and locked eyes with Nick.

"No trade,” Nick growled. “Get the hell out of here.”

The driver's face fell, and he stared at Nick, stupefied for a moment. “Did you hear what I said? That's primo stuff we got back there. Good luck finding any oxy these days. That stuff disappeared off the shelves faster than the pistols did. Luckily, my partner and I had the foresight to hit the pharmacies early."

"Did you hear what I said?" Nick repeated. "Take your drugs somewhere else."

"Damn, man, it's the end of the world,” the driver piped up. “You don't have to go back to push papers at your office anymore. You can lighten up."

“Keep your hands where I can see them, and get in the car real slow. Start the engine, turn the car around, and go back where you came from. Don't let me see either one of you ever again, or you won't be driving off the next time."

The two men stood staring at Nick for a moment longer, apparently unable to believe they wouldn't be making a deal.

"Go!" Nick roared.

The ferocity in Nick's voice pushed the driver to action and he got in the car and started the engine. Smith continued to stare at Nick for a moment longer, then spat in the dirt before he joined his partner. Nick and Charlie watched as the pair turned the sedan around and disappeared down the main highway.

The tension fell away as they watched the empty road for a moment longer. When they saw the sedan wasn't coming back, they both exhaled.

"Wow, those guys were crazy. I just knew they were going to pull a gun on us," Charlie said.

Nick nodded as he walked around to the driver side. He had almost expected the same thing. "Yeah, they seemed pretty unpredictable."

"It must be our lucky day," Charlie said, putting his rifle away.

"Yeah, we found windows that will fit and managed to get through an encounter with strangers without killing anybody. We better get home fast before our luck starts to change."

Charlie grinned as he climbed back in the truck. He knew Nick was right.

4

“Liz, where do you think you’re going? Sit back down!” Jessa chided from her spot in the garden.

Liz sat back down in the chair at her post near the tool shed. Jessa had caught her trying to stand up with her crutches, as usual.

“I can’t just sit here all day while you and Mia do all the work!” she called down to Jessa.

Jessa laughed and waved her concern away with her hand. “You’re on guard duty, remember? You’re doing work, too!”

Liz slumped in her seat and sighed. She felt her time would be better spent down with Liz and Mia preparing the garden beds. She knew better than anyone how important it was to beef up their security at the lodge, but she didn’t see much point in the daytime watch shifts. Liz figured it was just an excuse to keep her off her feet.

“You know, I can get around fine with my crutches!” she called again. “And you could use another pair of hands down there.”

“We need you up there for now. And the more rest you get now, the sooner I’ll put you to work weeding and planting!”

Liz smiled and settled back in to yet again scan the perimeter of the meadow and the forest beyond it. She didn’t really enjoy guard duty, but she didn’t have much choice. Though her injury had thankfully not been serious, she did need to stay off her leg to let it heal, at least for the time being.

And today the men were off looking for windows to replace the ones that had been broken by the invaders. She still felt guilty over the whole thing, despite everyone assuring her that it wasn’t her fault. Still, she couldn’t help but feel some responsibility, especially now that Nick and Charlie had to go off hunting for windows when there was so much work to be done at the homestead.

If only she hadn’t been so trusting of James, none of this would have happened. She had been naïve and foolish. She knew that. Well, those times were behind her. She would be wary of anyone new, probably for the rest of her life. The other night had changed her forever.

Everyone seemed to have changed. Nick was always talking about more people coming in – seeking refuge from the cities in the mountains. The group was caught up in preparing for that possibility.

Now, everyone was taking turns spending the night on guard duty. She hated that everyone had to give up a night’s rest to keep the rest of them safe. Though she had to admit it was a good idea. Who knew how many other deranged criminal elements were lurking around the area? And with resources so scarce, a comfortable home with a well-stocked food supply would be tempting to way too many people.

The more work they put into the homestead to make it self-sufficient, the more attractive it would look to outsiders. And that meant they would all have to be on high alert.

A bit later, Mia appeared with a glass of cool well water for Liz to drink.

“Thanks, sweetie,” Liz said, smiling at the child. “How’s gardening?”

Mia smiled. “I like it. It’ll be cool when the seeds start to sprout.”

“Jessa’s not working you too hard?”

Mia laughed and shook her head, making her chin-length, dark hair brush against her face.

They were breaking up the soil and removing rocks, then mixing in the bagged topsoil that Nick and Jessa had brought back from Santa Fe. With a little luck, they’d have some fall crops, and then a respectable full-scale garden the following year. It would be a lot of work, and Liz hoped she’d be able to contribute to the group efforts soon.

Liz watched as Mia skipped off to return to Jessa’s side. The nine-year-old was one of the smartest people Liz had ever met, but she was still a child. Liz liked to see her gallop up and down the hills like any other kid. Mia was always a good reminder of what was at stake, and why they needed to take home security so seriously. With renewed energy, Liz returned her concentration to her watch duty.

Her eyes scanned the tree line, searching for any movement or flash of color, but it was the same monotonous landscape it had been three minutes ago.

Jessa liked the repetitive work. It gave her a chance to collect her thoughts. Lately, everything had been so tumultuous that she hadn’t had much of a chance to think, so she welcomed the physical labor the day brought. She stood up to stretch her muscular arms overhead, then pulled her shoulder-length blonde hair into a ponytail before returning to her work.

They were short-handed. That was desperately clear. Liz was injured, and though Mia was an eager helper, she was just a child. That left only three able-bodied adults, for the time being, to do the monumental work the homestead required. The garden alone was a full-time job for two people. There was hunting to be done, traps to be laid, repairs and improvements to be made. And on top of everything else, they needed to have one person on guard watching for intruders at all times.

Everyone was stretched thin. They hadn’t discussed it, but she could see it in everyone’s faces. Nick especially seemed plagued by worry, though he wasn’t the sort to complain.

They needed more people, and Jessa knew just where to look.

Four hundred miles to the north, and fifty miles to the west of Denver, was her friend Chris’s cabin. He had escaped Santa Fe when the outbreak had started, before things had gotten bad in their hometown. He had been ready for a disaster, and he was resourceful. He had kept his cabin in Colorado stocked for just this kind of emergency. If anyone could survive the Hosta virus, it was Chris.

Besides, she needed to find out if he was alive. She missed him terribly.

She considered herself lucky to have met up with a good group of people. She genuinely liked Nick, Liz, Charlie, and Mia. But she still missed Chris. She longed for the connection they had shared. And maybe part of her longed for a connection to the way things had been before.

Everything was so new; it all had changed in just a handful of days. She was in a new home, with new people, living a radically different way of life. Sometimes she ached for a familiar face from the past. Especially Chris’s face.

She could kill two birds with one stone.

Going to look for Chris would be pretty straightforward. She’d just take Interstate 25 north for a few hours, then Interstate 70 west for a bit.

With a little luck, he’d still be alive. If he had escaped Santa Fe before coming into any contact with an infected person, there was a good chance he would still be living.

Jessa had listened intently as Mia, who had been studying her biology and physiology textbooks, explained it. Using the information about the Hosta virus they all remembered from the news reports before the world came crashing down, plus the information she had gleaned from the textbooks about pathology, Mia had pieced it together.

The immune survivors, like Jessa and the rest of the group at the lodge, were not carriers. Their bodies carried no traces of the virus. That meant that Chris wouldn’t get sick from her. If he had gotten to his remote cabin soon enough, he had a chance.

Once in Colorado, she didn’t think it would be difficult at all to convince him to follow her back to New Mexico. He’d be happier living with others than on his own, anyway. He could start a new life along with the rest of them.

Jessa and Chris could start a new life together.

It would be a long drive, but she could do it, and maybe even get back in one day. Either way, she wouldn’t be gone long. Her absence would only be a burden for the others for a short time, and she’d more than make up for it by bringing back another pair of able hands.

And if she were extra lucky, she could perhaps find another recruit along the way – someone willing to put in long hours to make the homestead viable, and who could be trusted.

Now that she and Nick had brought back a truckload of food from Santa Fe, they had enough rations for the winter. They could easily support an extra person or two. And what was more, Chris had his own food stores in Colorado he could pack up and bring back to add to theirs.

It was decided. She would leave in a couple of days.

All that was left was to get Nick on board with the idea.

5

“I think it’s a terrible idea,” Nick said to Jessa.

They were standing near the tool shed. Nick was on the night watch, and Jessa had used the occasion of bringing him some hot coffee to broach the subject.

“Why? If it’s because you don’t want another mouth to feed, don’t worry about that. Chris has his own food supplies that he can bring with him. And he can hunt and work in the garden.”

“It’s not that, Jessa,” Nick said, sipping the hot beverage. “I don’t like the idea of you driving over 400 miles to get there. And 400 miles to return.”

“You know that I can do it, Nick. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, Jessa. But it’s a new world out there. None of us are used to it yet. We still don’t know how bad things might be out there. You can’t go driving all over the country by yourself. It’s way too dangerous. It would be bad enough for me to do it, but for you, it’s even worse.”

“Nick, I’ve made it on my own for a long time. Way before the Hosta virus.”

“I know you have, Jessa. But things are different now.”

Jessa shoved her hands into her jacket. The days were still warm, but the nights were getting chilly. It was another reminder of the challenges they would face in the coming winter.

“We need more hands around here. This place is way too much work for us,” Jessa said, staring at Nick.

Nick sighed and looked away while Jessa continued.

“It’s hard enough for the three of us to keep up with the chores around this homestead, but when you add guard duty to the mix, it’s crazy,” Jessa said, her eyes meeting his gaze. “You know I don’t mind the work, but there’s only so much we can handle. We’re all worked to the bone, and we’re not getting enough sleep, either.”

Nick didn’t respond. There was nothing he could say; he knew Jessa was right.

“Just think how great it would be to have another pair of hands around here.”

Nick rubbed his jawline. He had started to keep a short beard. “Jessa, I’m not going to lie. We do need more help, and I’m sure Chris is a good man.”

Jessa broke into a smile.

“And I can’t stop you from doing what you want. You know you’re free to come and go as you please, but I’m against this plan. It’s just too dangerous. All I can ask is that you think about it some more before running off, okay?”

Jessa’s face fell and she sighed. “Fine, Nick. I’ll think about it.”

Nick gave her a little smile. “Thanks.”

Jessa turned and bounded up the stairs to the front porch, disappearing inside the dimly lit lodge without a look back.

Nick took another sip of the coffee. He knew Jessa would do whatever she wanted, and that worried him. She could be reckless. She was strong, probably the strongest woman he had ever known, but he was concerned it wouldn’t be enough to venture off on her own for a few days.

He watched the shadows moving through the newly installed windows inside the lodge.

Looking out over the meadow, he settled in for the next few hours of his guard duty. Charlie would relieve him in the early morning, and Nick himself would get some rest before the two of them set out for a hunting trip.

He hoped the night would be calm, and he hoped Jessa would come to her senses and decide to stay close to her new home.

6

Matt’s bicycle gleamed in the afternoon sun.

It will just be a little ride, he told himself. I’ve been cooped up at home too long. I need to get out.

He knew it was more than a joy ride. It would be a mission to find other survivors, and it would mean facing his greatest fears.

Though he was frightened by what he might find outside his home, he propelled his body forward to grab the bicycle and began riding it down the driveway before he could change his mind.

Cars were parked in front of the houses as normal, but there was no sound or movement. He rode past the houses of friends who he knew were dead. He turned right onto a larger street and rode past office buildings, corner stores, and restaurants. There were signs of looting – broken glass, merchandise scattered here and there. Wrecked cars were strewn about the parking lots.

But there was no one in sight.

Matt continued through the business section of town. It was clear that chaos had reigned during the height of the Hosta virus. Stores had been broken into, and people had dropped dead all over. He turned his face away from the rotting corpses as he passed by.

He pressed onward through the unnaturally empty city without seeing another soul. There was no sound, no movement. The panic that was building inside him pushed him further, desperately searching for a sign of another human. His legs pumped until they burned, and he skidded to a stop at the edge of a tree-filled city park.

He had been all over his town without seeing another living person. The fear was closing in on him.

His shoulders heaved as he caught his breath and looked around. There, at the far edge of the park, a little more than one hundred feet away, he saw her.

She took a step forward, her leg muscle as tight and finely tuned as a violin string. Her coat was tawny brown and gleamed in the late afternoon light. She turned her head and fixed an unblinking stare on Matt, her green eyes glowing.

Their eyes locked, and Matt was lost in the mountain lion’s intense gaze for a moment. He was only dimly aware of the fact that he was urinating on himself.

Then, she charged.

Springing off her haunches, her muscled body propelled toward Matt in an instant, covering the distance furiously. Matt’s survival instinct kicked in and he swung his shotgun around and hit the safety off before he could even stop to think. He shot wildly at the six-foot-long cat just as she came close, the deafening sound crackling through the quiet evening air.

He saw right away that he had missed the big cat, but before he could feel disappointment, the cat stopped, turned, and ran, startled by the loud noise. Matt watched, trembling violently, as she ran back toward the direction she had come from, eventually disappearing out of sight into the forest.

Matt gasped for air as he worked to keep the panic at bay. If he had been a split-second slower in his reaction time, he would have been torn apart by now.

He switched the safety back on and slung the shotgun around to his back again, then turned his bike around and pedaled off toward home, his mind and his legs racing. The return ride back through his town was the same as the first – he saw no live humans – but this time, his heart was filled with terror. His hometown was completely empty – except for the wild animal that had tried to eat him.

He didn’t stop until he was at his front porch again, throwing the bike down and staggering inside. He locked the door, set his shotgun down, and fell into a heap against the door, back again inside the familiarity of his home.

I can’t be the last person alive, I can’t be the last, he repeated to himself over and over.

“There must be others out there,” he spoke aloud now with a shaky voice. With no electronics or anyone to speak to, he resorted to speaking to himself, just to break the endless, unnerving silence.

“There’s got to be. I just have to find them.”

He walked to the kitchen window and looked out at his dad’s Ford F-150. It sat parked to the side, just where his dad had left it.

Matt had only tried to drive it once, and it hadn’t gone well. Earlier that year, with his dad sitting in the passenger seat and coaching him, he had managed to drive it just up the long driveway. His dad had thought Matt should begin learning to drive even at his young age, but Matt had protested. Driving a vehicle frightened him, which drove his dad crazy. After the tense driving experience, Matt parked the truck and jumped out, running inside the house and upstairs to his room.

“Give him another year,” Matt heard his mom say to his dad later that night, when they thought he was out of earshot.

“The boy needs to learn,” his dad responded, annoyed. “When I was his age, I jumped at the chance to drive a car.”

But his father didn’t press him again, and Matt had been relieved.

Now, he wished he had tried harder to get the hang of it.

I can do it. I can drive that truck.

He had been to New Mexico many times with his family. Though he didn’t know which roads to take, he could read a map, and he knew where his dad had kept the road atlas.

He had always liked visiting the lodge in the Jemez wilderness. He and Ashley always complained a little about the lack of TV and internet, but they soon got over it once they were there. It was beautiful country, and he liked hunting and playing outside. Plus, he always got to hang out with his cousin Owen.

Owen’s parents, Uncle Nick and Aunt Kaitlyn, had made a pact with Matt’s own parents to meet at the lodge in case of emergency. They had all been preparing for some kind of horrible disaster. Matt had heard them talk about EMPs and oil collapses. Matt hadn’t paid too much attention to it all, but he knew that they were all supposed to go to the lodge if and when the world fell apart.

And these days definitely felt like the end of the world.

But the lodge was in the middle of nowhere. It was deserted even before the Hosta virus. Now, with so many dead from this outbreak, New Mexico would be emptier than ever.

Even if he could manage to drive that pickup the 800 miles to the lodge, what would be waiting for him there?

Chances were, there would be no one. And then what would he do? It would be a risk leaving the abundant food stores and supplies in his comfortable home for the unknown.

But he had to take that risk.

He had to find out if his any of his extended family survived. And if they hadn’t, he would need to find another human being. He couldn’t go on alone.

7

Soon after dawn, Nick and Charlie set out walking east in search of game.

They spent most of the morning waiting in a mixed forest of oak and pine. It was prime deer season and prime habitat, but there were no deer.

Frustrated, they decided to move on. They moved south down the valley to arrive at a small lake. They improvised a blind out of some logs. Charlie used some duck calls and a whistle, which went over well.

Suddenly, a noise in the forest caused a commotion, and several mallards took off toward the sky. Charlie and Nick both pulled their shotguns and fired. They killed two birds each. Charlie gave Nick a high five, then they set out to where their kills had fallen.

They dressed the ducks and packed them to carry home. Just as they were about to leave, Charlie saw something out of the corner of his eye. He stared off into the forest to the south.

“What is it?” Nick asked under his breath.

Charlie swung his shotgun around, securing the butt in his shoulder, and Nick did the same.

“I thought I saw something over there,” Charlie whispered.

With Charlie leading the way, the two men walked stealthily in that direction.

They paused, looking around, and Charlie lowered his gun. “It was probably nothing.”

He turned away, but Nick stopped him. Nick motioned with his head toward a tall pine fifty feet away.

Charlie turned around, squinted, and jerked back, startled. He brought his shotgun back around in front.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“It looks like a person leaning against that tree,” Nick muttered. “It looks like he’s trying to hide from us.”

“Maybe we should just go back home,” Charlie whispered. “I don’t want any more dealings with crazy drug addicts.”

“I don’t really want to turn my back to him,” Nick said. “And I want to know who’s lurking around the woods out here. Let’s check it out.”

He took a few steps closer to the figure, then stopped, his gun still raised. He stared at the man leaning against a tree, narrowing his eyes.

“Hey!” Nick called. “Everything all right?”

“Stay right there!” a man’s voice called. “Don’t come any closer!”

“Damn, he’s not friendly. I was afraid of this,” Charlie muttered, backing away. “Let’s get out of here.”

Nick started to back up, but something made him stop. That face – he had seen it somewhere before.

His features were vaguely familiar. Suddenly it dawned on Nick. He knew where the young man was from, and he understood why the guy didn’t want him to approach.

If Nick could convince the guy to let him give the first aid he needed, he had a feeling it would be well worth his trouble.

“Are you injured? Do you need help?” Nick called again.

“I’m fine! Just stay back!”

Nick could hear the pain in the man’s voice. His shirt was off. He had used it to press to the wound in his thigh. It was now soaked with blood. He turned back toward Charlie. “He’s hurt really bad. I’m going to see if he’ll let me help him.”

Nick slung his rifle over his shoulder and held his hands in the air.

“You need first aid. That wound looks pretty bad, and you could die from if you don’t tend to it.”

“Are you crazy, Nick?” Charlie hissed. “You’re gonna get us both killed! Just leave that guy to die if he wants.”

“Just trust me on this,” Nick said under his breath.

“I mean it, man! Don’t come any closer!”

“We’re immune to the Hosta virus,” Nick said. “You won’t get sick from us.”

The man hesitated, staring at Nick, who was taking small steps forward slowly. The man grabbed his rifle.

“Just put that gun down, and we’ll get you taken care of. You’re from Los Gatos, aren’t you?”

8

The man blinked, confused. “How did you know that?”

“I’ve been buying bread from the Los Gatos general store all my life. Your face looks familiar. You must have a family member who worked at the store.”

Still unsure about Nick, the man slowly nodded. “Yeah, my Aunt Sylvia worked there.”

He grasped his rifle a little tighter. “But that doesn’t mean I want to catch that virus from you. So just stay where you are!”

Nick stopped, obeying his wishes, but spoke quickly. “I understand you have to be cautious. I know you folks quarantined yourselves off when the virus broke out, but you don’t have to worry anymore. That virus spread so fast that everyone who could catch it is already dead. Those of us who were exposed to it, and are still alive, are immune. You won’t catch it from us.”

“What makes you so sure? How do you know it works that way?” the young man asked suspiciously.

Nick smiled. “Because I’ve got a child genius on my hands these days. She likes to study immunology in her spare time. And that’s how she explained it to me. She hasn’t been wrong about anything yet.”

“Sorry, that’s not good enough for me. Just stay where you are.” He said it threateningly, but he lowered his rifle.

Nick held up his hands. “No problem.”

Charlie stood behind Nick.

“Come on, let’s get out of here, Nick,” he pleaded.

“Just a minute. We can’t just let him die out here,” Nick said to Charlie. Turning back to the man slumped against the tree, he watched as the man grimaced. He shifted slightly, causing blood to pour out of the wound in his leg.

Nick knew the man wasn’t a threat to them. He wasn’t going to shoot them now, and the showdown at Los Gatos had only been a misunderstanding. The Watlah tribe were good people. They would be good friends to have. If Nick could win these people’s trust, it would make the valley safer for everyone. And less lonely.

“Do you have any first aid supplies?” Nick asked, seeing how badly the guy was wounded.

He shook his head no.

“Will you just take some from me? I have some in my pack. I could toss them over to you so I won’t get close,” Nick said. “I don’t think you can make it home to Los Gatos like this, and if you don’t stop that bleeding, you’re going to die.”

The guy looked down at his leg and winced, his eyes crinkling from the pain. He looked weakly up at Nick, then nodded his head.

“Okay, I’ll take them. Just toss them over.”

Nick rummaged through his backpack to find the kit and tossed it on the ground beside the man.

He struggled with the zipper, fumbling with the pack in his hands. He let it fall from his grasp and leaned back weakly against the tree.

“I guess I need some help after all,” he said.

Nick jumped into action, unzipping the kit and removing a small package. He tore it open and began to apply pressure with a clean cloth to the wound. When he saw that wasn’t enough, he took out another package. He started to wrap a long bandage with a pressure bar around his leg.

“It’s an Israeli bandage,” Nick said. “This works great for stopping the bleeding.”

They watched as the bleeding slowed down.

“How are you feeling? Are you cold?”

He nodded his head, closing his eyes.

Nick instructed the man to lie down. Nick put his pack under his feet to elevate them a few inches off the ground. He opened the package of an emergency blanket and spread it across him. He found a bag of trail mix and handed it to him.

“See if you can eat some of this. The calories will help.”

He ate a few bites while Nick worked on the wound. The bleeding had stopped, and Nick cleaned and dressed it. Soon, he was feeling a little better.

“I’m Nick, and this is Charlie. I didn’t catch your name?”

“Daniel.”

“Did it happen while you were cleaning the fish?” Nick asked, glancing at the half-cleaned fish at Daniel’s side.

He nodded. “Yeah, I was stupid and forgot everything my grandfather taught me. Next thing I know, I’m slicing into my leg.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Nick said.

Charlie eyed the custom fixed blade knife at Daniel’s side. "Nice knife," he said. "Is that a carbon blade?"

"Yeah, my grandfather made it for me. I should have been more careful with it. It's sharp as hell."

He looked down at his wound. “I think I’m going to be all right. Thanks for your help,” Daniel said. “I probably would have died out here if you guys hadn’t found me.”

“It’s no problem. Just helping out a neighbor,” Nick said. “We don’t live too far from here, you know. It’s a lodge that’s been in my family for decades.”

Charlie looked around. “How are we going to get him home?” he asked. Turning to Daniel, “How long did it take you to walk here from Los Gatos?”

“About an hour,” Daniel said, sighing.

“You’re closer to our place now,” Nick said. “It’s going to be tough, but we’ll find a way to get you to one of our vehicles. Then I can drive you home.”

“Thank you so much, man,” Daniel said.

“I just hope your friends don’t shoot us when they see our truck,” Nick said, winking.

“Oh, shit,” Daniel said. “Were you the guy that made it to the second barricade?”

Nick nodded. “That was me. I should’ve turned around at the first one. It was a stupid mistake.”

“Damn, sorry about that. We have to keep all the outsiders out so we don’t risk contamination.”

“I understand. You have to look out for yourselves, just like we all do.”

“That was just a warning shot, you know,” Daniel said. “We don’t shoot at people until they shoot first.”

“Yeah, that was Jessa,” Nick said. “She’s a little hotheaded, but she’s all right. So, let’s let bygones be bygones. What do you say? No hard feelings?”

“No hard feelings,” Daniel said. They shook hands.

Daniel looked up at the two men.

“Although, so much for avoiding contamination,” Daniel said. “Well, I guess I would’ve died anyway out here without your help.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Nick said. “But I know you want to be cautious. You’re welcome to stay at our place for a few days if you don’t want to risk contaminating your friends and family.”

“That’s really generous of you, Nick. Again, thank you, but we actually have a quarantine system set up in case something like this happens. If you’ll take me to the first barricade, I can call out to the guys at the second one to let them know it’s me. That way, no one gets shot. Then I’ll put myself in quarantine.”

Charlie nodded. “That sounds like a good plan.”

“You’re going to need to clean that wound. And change the bandage regularly. And what about food and water?” Nick asked.

“The quarantine house is all set up for that. We’ve got some medical supplies in there,” Daniel said.

Nick nodded. The operation at Los Gatos seemed to be well organized and efficient. They had thought of everything.

They let Daniel rest while they started to fashion some crutches out of saplings. He’d need something to help on the long walk back.

“People who get the Hosta virus start to show symptoms within one to three days,” Nick said as he worked. “If you’re fine after three days, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

Daniel nodded. “Yeah, that’s what they were saying on the news. So I’ll be in quarantine 72 hours.”

They finished the crutches and admired their work. “We’re getting good at this,” Charlie said.

“Yeah, we’ve had a lot of practice lately,” Nick said.

Soon, the three of them set out for the walk back to Nick’s lodge. Daniel moved as quickly as he could, but with his injury, their pace was glacial.

They took a shortcut to the clearing where the vehicles were parked, bypassing the homestead. By the time the three of them had climbed into Nick’s truck, it was well into the afternoon.

Half an hour later, they arrived at the first barricade on the road to Los Gatos.

Daniel craned his head out the window and let forth a loud call. It was similar to a crow call, but slightly tweaked to represent a signal to his tribe.

The call was returned.

“Okay, you can go around the first barricade, but then stop,” Daniel said.

Nick followed the instructions and parked the truck.

“It’s me, it’s Daniel Parker!” He called.

Nick and Charlie opened their doors slowly to help Daniel out of the truck. Standing with rifles behind the second barricade were nine young men, watching curiously.

Daniel shook Nick’s and Charlie’s hands. “I’m very grateful for your help. May it be repaid to you ten times over.”

“We’re happy to help,” Nick said. “You know where we are. Come pay us a visit sometime.”

Daniel smiled warmly. “If I’m still alive in three days, you bet I will.”

Nick and Charlie watched as Daniel hobbled forward a few yards. There, the young man addressed his friends in Kiwa, their native language. The group of men exchanged a few words, and Daniel looked back at Charlie and Nick. Slowly, the young men behind the barricade raised their hands in greeting to the two outsiders.

Daniel waved goodbye to Nick and Charlie, then trudged forward on his crutches. The young men at the barricade turned and retreated toward the general store behind them. Daniel went the other way, disappearing around the corner as he apparently headed toward the secluded quarantine area.

“You’re a good man to do all that, Nick,” Charlie said as they climbed back in the truck and turned it around.

“It may be the end of the world, but we can still be neighborly,” Nick said.

They drove home as the sun began to set, their stomachs growling in anticipation of a roasted duck dinner.

9

Bethany Jones had never stolen anything a day in her life. And now here she was, raiding the pantry in a stranger’s house. The owners had obviously taken advantage of their Costco membership. The shelves were stocked with giant containers of packaged foods. There were cases of sodas and stacks of juice boxes, but only one case of bottled water. The food would last her a month, or maybe a little more. But the liquids wouldn’t last more than two or three weeks.

“Hey, little guy. It feels like you’ve got the hiccups again,” she whispered as her hands went to her round belly. The baby was moving all the time now, as if to tell her he would be arriving soon. In just one month, she would become a mother.

It would be the worst possible time to run out of food.

She grabbed a jar of applesauce and a spoon and sat at the table. So far, she had been lucky when it came to finding a place to live. She had found this house with a spare key underneath a potted plant on the front porch. All she had to do was let herself in. And inside, there were no dead bodies.

She wondered what had happened to the family who had owned the house. Had they died far from home? Were they still alive, trying to get back home? What if they were to walk in on her sitting at their kitchen table and eating their food? She shuddered and pushed away her fears.

They were probably dead. Just like almost everyone else.

She had only spent two years as a married woman. Nathan had been a good husband to her in their short time together. He was thrilled when she became pregnant, watching her belly grow with excitement. He would have made the best father.

She had to tear herself away from his lifeless body when he passed. And worse, she had to leave him lying in their bedroom, along with their two cats who had also died. She was in no shape to be digging a grave, though she hated leaving Nathan like that.

When she came to her senses after losing Nathan, she realized just how alone she was. All of her friends, family, and the hospital staff were gone. She herself remained healthy, and there had been no change in her pregnancy. She still felt the baby kicking like normal, letting her know he was still there.

She would have to have her baby alone.

When she was still at her house and trying to decide where to go, she sometimes heard gunshots. And once, when she walked to the corner store to see what food she could find, she heard voices inside the store as she approached it. They were men’s voices – and they didn’t sound friendly.

“We’ve got everything we need, don’t we?” one had said.

“Almost everything. Only thing we’re missing are some women.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll find one or two sooner or later. They can’t hide forever.”

The laughter coming from those men had struck fear in her heart. She ran back home, their voices echoing in her head.

That night, she had gone looking for a new home. She needed a place to stay while she figured out what to do. She couldn’t bear to be in her house while Nathan lay dead in the next room.

She looked down at her applesauce. The house she was in now would only provide temporary refuge. She knew she would have to find someplace better. She would have to get to a place where she could grow some food, and hopefully find a gun or two and learn how to use them.

But first, she needed supplies.

New Beginnings Birth Center. Bethany had driven by the small facility and seen the sign many times, but she had never been inside. She had never thought much about natural childbirth. Her birth plan involved a hospital bed and an epidural. But now, she found herself in a dramatically different world. Now, she was expecting to have the baby without any help.

She cringed as she threw a big rock through the glass door. The glass shattered, and she let herself inside, praying that no one would hear her and come to investigate.

She was surprised to see how well-stocked the birth center was. A far cry from the crunchy granola hippie environment she expected, the back rooms were lined with bookshelves and the closets were filled with medical supplies. She began to place stacks of packaged gauze and towels in the suitcase she brought with her. Scissors, disinfectant, antibiotic ointment, Vitamin K shots, even Pitocin to control postpartum hemorrhage and supplies for IV fluids. She scanned the books and selected the ones she thought would be most useful.

She stepped over the broken glass, struggling to lift the heavy suitcase over the door frame. Looking around the empty street nervously, she slipped out the door and hurried back to her temporary home.

She had packed everything she would need for herself and the new baby, along with most of the food and water.

All that was left was to find a vehicle with enough gas to get her to a farm. Her own car had only a quarter tank, and there was no way to refill. She would have to find a vehicle with the keys still in it and a full tank of gas. And that meant she would have to do what she dreaded most – pull a dead body out of a vehicle.

10

The fall planting was almost done at Nick’s lodge. With the soil amendments from Santa Fe and Liz’s new knowledge from gardening books, the prospects for homegrown food were much better. The patch was well tended from everyone’s attention. Motivated by a desire for fresh food, the group worked the soil and weeded without complaint.

Charlie and Nick were cutting firewood, and Mia was gathering kindling. Liz was returning to her guard post after having a break for lunch. She scanned the tree line yet again and sighed. At least the gunshot wound in her leg was healing quickly. Soon, she would be able to get around more.

Jessa was working on a fence to keep any little critters out of the garden. Nick was grateful that she hadn’t brought up going to Colorado again. Maybe she had come to her senses after all.

Liz heard what sounded like a crow caw and noticed that Nick became alert. He motioned to Charlie and they both stopped what they were doing. Nick returned the call and waited. The sound, coming from the forest below, repeated once more.

“I think we’re getting a friendly visit,” Nick said. “It sounds like somebody from Los Gatos.”

Then, shouting across the meadow, “Daniel! Come on up!”

All four heads turned to watch as a figure emerged from the forest, giving a big wave.

Nick and Charlie went down to meet him halfway. The three men returned to the top of the hill, where introductions were given all around. Liz and Jessa were happy to meet Daniel, who they had heard about. Though Mia was shy, she was also excited to see someone new.

“You’re getting around on your injured leg even better than I am after a week,” Liz said. “How is that possible?”

“My mom knows all the plants around here. She makes a salve that works wonders,” Daniel said, smiling. “I’ll bring you some next time if you want.”

“That would be great,” Liz said. “I’m so tired of sitting around all day.”

“And I’d like her recipe,” Jessa piped up.

“So, you didn’t catch the Hosta from us,” Nick said.

Daniel shook his head. “No, I didn’t. It’s been over seventy-two hours and no sign of the virus. I’m out of quarantine, and I just wanted to come by and say thanks for your help.”

“Welcome to our little homestead,” Nick said. “It’s not much, but we’re proud of what we’ve done.”

“We’d offer you some lemonade, but our lemon trees probably won’t have fruit for another twenty years,” Charlie joked. “We do have some packaged drink mix, though.”

“Sounds delicious,” Daniel said, laughing.

They all sat on the porch, enjoying the reconstituted drink. Having a friendly visitor was a welcome change for everyone, and they chatted excitedly. Everyone had questions to ask and stories to tell.

“My family is very grateful to you for your help,” Daniel said. “And we wanted to invite you to visit Los Gatos and meet some of the village.”

Nick raised his eyebrows. “That’s very nice of you. I would be honored to visit. Are you sure everyone is okay with that?”

Daniel took a sip of his drink and nodded. “Yes, the whole community met to discuss it. The tribal council decided it would be good to have contact with people outside Los Gatos now that we know the risk of contamination is gone.”

He winked at Mia. “You were right all along.”

Mia smiled and looked shyly away.

“Well, that would be great. I’d love to see how you folks are doing things over there. It’s good to have some friendly people in the valley.”

“The Council decided they would like you to visit alone for the first time, Nick. The rest of you guys can come later, but they wanted to meet you first. I hope you understand,” Daniel said, glancing at Jessa, Liz and Charlie. “It’s a big adjustment to let outsiders in for some of the villagers. It’s better to go slowly.”

“I understand,” Nick said. Jessa, Liz and Charlie were disappointed but they nodded in understanding as well.

Daniel stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Are you ready?”

“Oh, now?” Nick said, surprised.

Daniel nodded. “They’re waiting for us.”

Nick stood up and watched as Daniel shook everyone’s hand and said goodbye. Soon, Nick was once again on the gravel road to Los Gatos, following behind Daniel in his truck.

Daniel led Nick through a back way to Los Gatos, which turned out to be much faster than the one Nick had known. Daniel parked his car in front of a modest adobe home, and Nick did the same. A middle-aged woman with a kind face that resembled Daniel’s emerged and greeted them.

“You must be Nick,” she said. “You saved my son’s life.”

She looked nervously at her son, who gave her a nod. She timidly reached out to shake Nick’s hand. He reached his hand out toward hers, but at the last moment she wrapped her arms around him in an embrace. “Thank you so much.”

“This is my mom, Anne,” Daniel said. “And here comes my dad, Raymond.”

A man emerged from the home next. He grinned and shook Nick’s hand heartily. “Welcome to our home,” he said.

A handful of older children and teenagers filed out, looking shyly at Nick. Daniel introduced them all.

“You’ll have to forgive us,” Anne said. “We’re still not used to anyone from outside the village. We got so scared of the virus.”

Nick followed them inside, where a bountiful meal of pheasant with vegetables awaited them. Nick’s mouth watered, and then his eyes went large when he saw Daniel’s brother bring a plate of bread to the table.

“You know the bread from Los Gatos, don’t you?” Anne asked, smiling.

Nick nodded, unable to take his eyes off the spread. He hadn’t had food like this in ages. They enjoyed the meal in relative silence, for which Nick was grateful. He wanted to concentrate on the exquisite flavors of the fresh, homegrown food that he had missed so much.

Daniel laughed as Nick finished his meal and leaned back in his chair with a contented look on his face. “Have you just been eating canned food all this time?”

Nick nodded. “Yes, and I had forgotten how good food like this tasted. Just delicious.”

“What kind of crops are you growing at your place?” Raymond asked.

“Not much just yet,” Nick said. “We just planted a small fall garden, and we have a lot of seeds for the spring. But mostly we’re eating packaged foods we could scavenge from a grocery store in Santa Fe. Plus, I had some food stored in the lodge from before. We have four adults and one child, and it’s enough for the winter. But it’s not very tasty.”

“Are you having much luck hunting?” Raymond asked, using his last piece of bread to soak up the pheasant juices.

“A little. We got some ducks the other day when we found Daniel, and we’ve caught some trout here and there. But no large game. Have you seen any?”

Raymond shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid the dying time took a lot of animals, too. No one in Los Gatos has seen any deer or elk lately.”

“Yeah, there’s nothing out there,” Daniel said, sighing. “Just birds.”

“And we’ve seen some rabbits and squirrels,” Anne said. “The virus never stopped the rabbits from sneaking into the garden to eat my peas.”

Raymond set his napkin on the table and stood up. “Let’s go for a walk, Nick. I’d like to show you around a little.”

The family led Daniel out of the home and through the unpaved road. Children came out to whisper to each other and giggle while a few adults watched nervously from the front steps of their homes. Nick waved to them, and they returned the greeting. They were friendly, but kept a distance.

It would be a difficult transition to open up the village after being in seclusion from the outside world for weeks. Fear of the virus had been great.

They saw the world fall apart and everyone die on the news, he thought to himself. It must be hard for them to trust outsiders after that. But Nick saw they were clearly making an effort.

It had to be more than just the first aid Nick had given to Daniel that had caused the tribe to open up their village to him. They must have known that it would be safer for all of them to stick together. The world had become a lawless, cruel place. Even a significant community like Los Gatos could be vulnerable against enough people and enough firepower.

And as Nick walked through the village, he saw what kind of operation they had. Compared to the rest of the world, the community was thriving.

Now Nick understood why they were so sensitive about outsiders. Besides the risk of contamination they had feared, there was also the risk of thieves trying to come in and take what they had.

And Los Gatos had a lot. They had been working hard, and they had never totally left their traditional Native ways. Now that modern society had collapsed, those traditions and knowledge would serve them well.

“Those are the sheep my cousin’s family keeps,” Anne said. “They give us wool and meat. And the goats give us milk and meat.”

“The goats are good work animals,” Daniel added. “You can pack them down, or train them to pull a cart. And they’ll keep weeds and brush down. Plus they make good pets. They’re as friendly as dogs.”

Nick thought of how overgrown the trail to the vehicles back at the lodge had gotten. And carting gear out to the trucks would certainly be a lot easier with a pack animal. Not to mention how much he’d love to have fresh milk and cheese on a daily basis.

“A lot of families keep chickens too,” Raymond said, pointing to a chicken coop nearby.

They came to some small adobe domes near a stack of cedar logs.

“These are the wood-fired ovens we use to bake the bread,” Anne said. “Daniel tells me you used to come here to buy from my sister Sylvia.”

“It’s the best bread I’ve ever eaten,” he said enthusiastically.

Anne laughed. “We do love our bread in Los Gatos.”

As they neared the end of the tour of the tiny town, Nick was impressed. “You folks have a great system here,” he said, looking at the multitude of small gardens and livestock contained inside well-maintained fences.

“This is what we’re working toward having one day back at my place. We’ve got a long way to go, though.”

Nick noticed an ancient-looking man who stood on the front steps of a tidy adobe house nearby, watching them. The man raised his hand in a greeting as Nick and his hosts approached him. Then he stepped off the stoop.

Judging from the man’s age, Nick expected him to walk with difficulty. But he was surprised when the man moved with poise and strength toward the group.

“This is my grandfather, Edward,” Anne told Nick. “He is a village elder.”

The man smiled at Nick and said a few words in Kiwa. “He says welcome. He is happy you are here,” Anne said.

Nick studied his lined face as the man continued to speak. His eyes were clear and steady.

“He thanks you for saving Daniel in the forest. He knows that you took a risk in helping him, especially in these dangerous times.”

Anne paused as she listened to her grandfather speak again. A confused look appeared on her face as she relayed the next message.

“He says how deeply sorry he is that our young men shot at your truck, and he asked that you understand we never wanted to hurt you, we only wanted to protect ourselves from the virus.”

Anne frowned and spoke directly to Nick. “I didn’t know about this. Daniel must have told him, but not me. I’m so sorry, Nick. I had no idea that happened.”

“It was all a misunderstanding,” Nick said. “I know your men didn’t mean any harm. It’s all forgotten.”

Anne smiled at him, relayed Nick’s message to her grandfather, then listened to his response.

“He says that you are a good man. He is glad that you and your people are living in the valley. If you are willing, he would like our village to form an alliance with you and your people.”

The man paused, waiting for Nick to respond. “I would like that very much,” Nick said, smiling. The man began to speak again.

“We can help each other to thrive with trade,” Anne said, continuing to translate. “He says there are many dangers in the mountains. Even more since the dying time. We can work together to keep each other safe.”

Nick smiled and nodded. “That sounds like an excellent idea. I agree.” Nick looked at Raymond and Daniel, who were quietly watching the scene.

Anne nodded at her grandfather, and the old man took Nick’s hand in his own, shaking it firmly.

“Friends,” Edward said in English, his eyes twinkling as he looked at Nick.

“Friends,” Nick repeated, smiling.

Finally, the old man let go of Nick’s hand and smiled. He turned and walked slowly back to his home, disappearing inside.

The family led Nick back through the town once more. This time, even more people emerged from the safety of their homes to watch the procession.

“Wait here,” Anne said to Nick once they were back at the front porch of the family’s home. She pointed to a chair and he sat down, wondering what they were up to.

Nick watched as Daniel’s parents and several other people brought gifts to his truck: bags of fresh vegetables, eggs, goat cheese, and honey. He grinned as Sylvia brought him a basket heaping with freshly baked bread. Many more families had emerged from their homes to watch the happy scene, and everyone said their goodbyes.

“You and your people are welcome anytime,” Raymond said. Anne nodded, giving him one last hug.

“The same goes for you all,” Nick said, grinning. “Come out and see us. Don’t be strangers.”

He waved and started his pickup, pulling out onto the dusty gravel road. Looking down at all the delicious new foods he had to bring back, his spirits were high. It was no longer Nick and the four others against the world. Now they had friendly neighbors who wanted to cooperate. His situation was finally getting better.

11

Jessa got out of bed before dawn. She packed a few belongings, then emerged from her room.

She moved quietly through the dark house, not wanting to wake anyone else. She grabbed a couple of granola bars. It wasn’t much, but she could find more food on the road. She then went around the corner to the living room. She was startled to see Mia standing there, as if waiting for her.

“Where are you going?” the little girl asked. Her big brown eyes stared up at Jessa.

“Nowhere,” Jessa said. “Go back to sleep, Mia.”

“Tell me the truth,” Mia said, her hand on her hip.

Jessa smiled. She couldn’t pull the wool over Mia’s eyes. She sat down on the couch and motioned for Mia to do the same. Mia sat, looking up at her with frightened eyes.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Her voice trembled.

“Not for good. Just for one or two days. Three at the most.”

Jessa took Mia’s little hand in hers and squeezed it. “Don’t worry. I promise I’ll be back, okay?”

“But why do you have to leave? Where are you going?”

“I have to go check on a friend. He went up to Colorado–”

“Where in Colorado?” Mia interrupted.

“Denver. And I need to see if he survived the virus. If he did, I’ll bring him back here. He’s a good guy, and he can help us work in the garden. Plus, he can hunt and fish. And help defend us.”

“He’s not a bad guy?”

“No, not at all. I promise, he’s a really good guy. You’ll like him.” Jessa smiled.

“Then why are you sneaking out of here? How come you didn’t tell anyone you were leaving?”

Jessa laughed a little to herself. Man, she was good.

“Well, I told Nick the other night. He didn’t want me to go because he’s worried about me traveling alone. And I didn’t want to tell you or the others because I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

But Mia looked very worried.

“Denver’s really far away. It’s a long drive. And it’s dangerous out there. Are you sure it’s okay for you to go alone?”

“Positive. Really, Mia, don’t worry about me. I’ll be back before you know it. You just take care of Liz while I’m gone. You know, make sure she stays off her leg as much as possible. The garden is ready, and now you guys have some fresh food to eat from Daniel’s family. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

Jessa’s words didn’t seem to reassure Mia very much.

“Don’t go, Jessa,” Mia pleaded. “Can’t you go later? I’m scared for you.”

Jessa gave the little girl a hug. “Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. Tell Liz not to worry, and I’ll probably be back tomorrow. Then we’ll start those botany classes I promised you, okay?”

Mia nodded, but she didn’t look too sure about it.

“Be careful. Please be careful.”

Jessa held up her hand like a Girl Scout.

“Scout’s honor.”

She flashed one last smile at the little girl, then she was out the door.

After the hike to the vehicles and the short drive through the small trail, Jessa drove her Forest Service truck out onto the gravel road. She picked up speed. The wind in her hair felt good. It felt even better to have a destination, to have a mission.

She had a lot of miles ahead of her, and she settled in for the ride. At this rate, she would get to Chris’s cabin by early afternoon. They would pack up all the food and supplies they could fit into their vehicles, and be back on the road to New Mexico early tomorrow morning.

She didn’t like leaving this way without telling the others goodbye, but she knew it had to be like this. They would be unnecessarily worried about her, and they would have tried to persuade her to stay. Slipping out relatively unnoticed would be easier on everyone.

She cringed thinking of the concerned look on Mia’s face. She knew Liz and the others would be worried to find her gone as well.

It would be hard on them without her for a couple of days, but she would make it up to them. Chris would be an ideal addition to the workforce – strong, smart and hard-working. In just two or three days they would all be thanking her for the risk she took.

Besides, now that Nick had made friends with Daniel's family, she felt a lot better about leaving for a couple of days. When Nick got home the night before, after visiting Los Gatos, she saw a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. They would be safer now with their new alliance.

The garden was just about ready for the fall, and they were a little less isolated now that they had friendly neighbors. There was no better time for her to leave.

Yes, it was a risk. Jessa was aware of the danger. Nick and Mia had every reason to be concerned. But she was well armed. She wore her Glock in her hip holster, and she had a new rifle as well: a Bushmaster AR-15.

About the only good thing to come out of the attack at the lodge the other night were the three new firearms they had. Using the directions given by Liz, Nick and Jessa were able to track down the shack in the woods used by the three men, where they salvaged some valuable boxes of ammo for the new guns.

Jessa had already been in a few armed confrontations, and she had done pretty well for herself so far. She was confident in her ability to defend herself, and she was ready to take on what lay ahead. The way she saw it, she didn’t have much of a choice.

They needed help if they were going to survive the winter. And, well, the morale boost she would get by reuniting with a close friend wouldn’t hurt either.

There was no doubt about it: Jessa could take care of herself. There was just one area where she was relying heavily on luck.

Chris had to still be alive.

12

Today was the day.

Matt had spent the previous two days getting used to the truck. He could maneuver it up and down the driveway, and he had even mastered reverse. When he took it for a drive around his neighborhood, he was surprised to find it wasn’t as bad as he had feared all along. Driving was still intimidating to the boy, but he was starting to feel more comfortable.

Now, his biggest problem was what he might encounter on the road. It would be a long drive to New Mexico. Would he see anyone else? If there were other survivors, he would have to worry about them being hostile.

But his greatest fear was that there would be no survivors. What if he had to spend the rest of his life alone? And what if he ended up at that lodge in New Mexico without another soul anywhere around? He had already had an encounter with a mountain lion in his own hometown. In the mountains, there would be bears, wolves, and who knew what else.

He wondered what his father would say to him now, as he worried about wild animals and hid in fear behind locked doors. His dad had never called him a coward, but Matt feared that was what he thought of him. He had tried to be more like his father, but Dad always seemed so fearless. Matt didn’t know how he did it.

He had just turned thirteen, but he was still acting like a little baby.

It was time to grow up. Matt had to let go of his immature fears. There was no one to take care of him. Just himself.

He shook his hands out, as if that could release his worry. He had to keep moving, keep doing stuff. That way, he couldn’t be paralyzed by terror.

It had taken him nearly an entire day to pack up. He knew he might never return to his home, so he grabbed the possessions he couldn’t bear to part with, filling a small suitcase with them and several changes of warm clothes. The rest of the space in the truck was dedicated to food and supplies.

His body ached from lifting five-gallon buckets of grains and legumes into the cargo bed. He tried to pack a variety of food, recalling what his father had said about the importance of a balanced diet in survival situations.

As he packed, he worried about where he would spend the night. He dreaded sleeping in his truck out in the open, or breaking into someone’s empty house. But twelve hours was a long day of driving, especially when he hadn’t driven more than a couple miles in his entire life.

Today, he paid one last visit to the graves in the backyard, where he couldn’t help but shed a few tears.

“Goodbye,” he whispered. He hoped his family would somehow guide his way on the journey he was about to undertake. He hoped he could make them proud.

He had planned a route avoiding Dallas. Even though he suspected the metropolis would be empty, he nevertheless didn’t want to risk navigating the huge city. It had been difficult to get around in Dallas even before the world fell apart, and he didn’t want to see how it had fared with the chaos of so many people dying at once.

He took the on-ramp and entered the highway, navigating around abandoned cars. He shuddered as he saw the rotting corpses of drivers and passengers. Once he was on the open highway, he ventured to drive a little faster. Little by little, he was becoming more confident driving, and he began to make good time as he headed west.

By the time he reached Hillsboro, he was at a half tank of gas. He had brought two spare cans filled with gas from his dad’s storage, but he wanted to save them for later. He knew that the farther west he went, toward the areas that had been scarcely populated even before Hosta, there would be fewer opportunities to find gas. He decided it was best to fill up whenever possible in Texas.

He took the first exit and drove along the access road. There was a cluster of small houses situated just one block off the access road with several cars parked on the street and in the driveways. Thinking he would have a good chance of finding a vehicle with gas to siphon on this block, he turned down the road and parked the truck.

Among his dad’s survival gear in the storage shed, he had found a small hand pump for siphoning gas. He grabbed the pump, along with some hose and an empty fuel can, and walked to an SUV parked in the driveway of a house.

Glancing around the quiet street, he was struck by how unnaturally silent the world had become. This residential neighborhood was just as eerily calm as his own. The cars parked in front of the houses no doubt meant that their owners were lying dead behind the closed doors. He shuddered, and quickly approached the SUV. He wanted to get this chore over with.

As he walked around the side of the SUV toward the fuel tank, he glanced inside the living room window of the home. There were two men lying dead inside: a big, bloated one on a couch, and a thin one sprawled across a recliner. He had seen so many corpses that he quickly turned his head without another thought.

Suddenly, he heard a movement inside the home. With a start, he realized the men were not dead after all.

“Hey! Did you hear that?” one of them anxiously said to the other inside the house.

Their voices were muted, but Matt was close enough to the house to hear them. He froze in place, shielded from their view from where he stood behind the SUV. Silently, he rejoiced to hear the voices.

Someone else was alive.

“What?” came the second voice, groggy and deeper. Matt heard some movement from within the house. Apparently the two men were just waking up.

“I said, did you hear that?”

“No, man. There’s nothing out there. How many times do I have to tell you? Everyone’s dead in this crappy little town.”

“I don’t know, man. I heard something.”

Matt could scarcely contain his excitement. There were other survivors. He wanted to run to the door, to talk to the men. He wanted desperately to talk to anyone. But he decided to wait a bit longer. He wanted to make sure these guys were friendly.

“You need to lay off the crystal. That shit makes you paranoid, dude,” said the deeper voice.

More movement within the house.

“I know what I heard,” said the fast-paced voice.

Matt felt a chill run down his spine. The men were on drugs. So much for having someone to talk to. He wanted to dart away, but he didn’t want to risk being seen.

“We need to get out of here,” said the first man. The hardwood floorboards creaked as he apparently paced back and forth across the living room. “There’s nothing left for us here, I’m telling you.”

“Yeah? Where do you want to go?” the groggy voice mumbled.

“Like I said, we need more shit. Dallas was full of it before, and now it’s all just free for the taking. I know it.”

“Are you really that crazy that you don’t remember? No way am I going back to Dallas. Rex will kill me if he sees me back there. And he has his men stationed all over the city. You know he’s got a price on my head for trying to take his woman. Besides, half the city burned up.”

“All right, Houston then. They got good shit down there too. I’m going to need some, like, soon. Let’s go right now. I’m ready.”

Matt tensed up as he heard the man walk toward the door. They were about to leave.

Where could he go that they wouldn’t see him? They sounded dangerous. Matt looked wildly around, trying to find a place he could run and hide.

As the doorknob slowly turned, Matt’s throat started to close. He couldn’t let them see him.

“Sit down,” the deeper voice ordered. “We’re not going anywhere until I come down.”

Matt exhaled as the man returned to his recliner and collapsed in it, judging from the sounds inside.

“Whatever. Toss me that shit,” said the fast-paced voice.

Without waiting to hear anymore, Matt took the opportunity to scurry back to his truck. He quietly opened the door and climbed inside. His hands shook as he turned the key, the engine roaring to life.

Just as he pulled away from the curb, he turned to see the door of the house fly open. A skinny, ragged man stood in the doorway and aimed a pistol at Matt’s truck.

“Come back here, you asshole!”

Matt stomped on the gas, and the truck hurtled down the road. Behind him, the man fired two shots, missing badly.

The man ran into the road, waving his gun in the air and screaming after Matt.

“I’ll teach you not to spy on us! I know who you are! You’ve been following me. Next time you’re dead!”

Matt drove up the road, then turned down a side road. Speeding through the quiet neighborhood, he arrived back at the highway quickly.

Only when he had put a dozen miles between himself and Hillsboro without seeing anyone following him in the rear-view mirror, was he able to stop shaking.

13

When Nick woke up and came out of his room back home at the lodge, Liz and Mia were waiting for him with worried looks on their faces.

“Jessa’s gone,” Mia said.

Charlie came out of his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What?” he asked, befuddled.

“Jessa went to Colorado to check on a friend,” Mia said.

“She told Mia she’ll be back in a couple of days,” Liz said. “She didn’t even tell the rest of us goodbye. I hope she’s all right. I’m worried sick about her.”

Damn it.

Nick had thought she’d decided against her Colorado trip. Just when things were starting to look up. Though on second thought, that’s probably why she decided to go now.

“She’ll be all right,” Nick said.

He didn’t say much else. He didn’t tell the others that he was worried too.

Nick returned the crow caw he heard while he was working on the woodpile again.

Daniel, his dad Raymond, and his cousin Martin crossed the meadow. They arrived at the house, and everyone eagerly crowded around them for introductions, happy to meet new people.

“We thought the rest of your people might like to visit Los Gatos,” Daniel said.

“And we thought you might be interested in some trade,” Raymond added.

A grin spread over Nick’s face. “We’d definitely be interested in some trade. And as for the visit to Los Gatos, I’m up for it. What you think, Mia? Do you want to go see where our neighbors live?”

Mia smiled shyly and nodded.

“Of course she does!” Liz said. “We’re all dying to get out of this house.”

Raymond smiled and looked around. “It looks like you have a nice place here. You’ve been doing good work in the garden.”

“We’re all pretty new to this type of thing, but we’re trying,” Nick said. “Liz has been studying some garden books, and that’s helped a lot.”

“I hope you’ve got the soil fertile,” Raymond said. “This mountain dirt up here is pretty nutrient-poor.”

“That much we do know,” Nick said. “We had an… interesting trip to Santa Fe to get some topsoil and fertilizer last week. And now we’ve got a compost heap going for next year.”

Raymond nodded, then remembered something. “Isn’t there someone missing?”

Nick’s face fell just a bit. “Yeah, that’s Jessa. She left this morning to drive up to Colorado. She’s got a friend up there she’s hoping survived the virus.”

Daniel raised his eyebrows. “And she drove all the way up there alone? I hope she’s armed.”

“That she is. We’re hoping for the best,” Nick said, looking down to see Mia’s worried face. “We’re expecting her back in a couple of days.”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Raymond said reassuringly. “Well, we’ll give you some time to get ready. Anything you don’t have use for, bring it along and we’ll see what we can swap out.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Nick said as he pulled out some chairs for the men to sit in while they waited.

Mia brought them some glasses of water, then returned to the kitchen where Nick, Charlie, and Liz were gathered.

“We have a lot of packaged food,” Liz said. “They might like some cookies or soda every now and then. I know they have all that delicious fresh food, but who doesn’t like a sugar fix once in a while?”

“Yeah, we could spare some,” Nick replied. “At this point, we have more bags of chocolate than we’d need for the rest of our lives. Let’s pack up a box or two of food, then we’ll see if we have any tools we have extras of.”

“We don’t need all those books,” Mia said.

“That’s something I never expected you to say,” Liz said, smiling.

“Well, we’ve already read a few of them. We might as well pass them along, right?” Mia asked.

“I’ll let you be in charge of the books, Mia,” Nick said. “I’ll go out and look at the tools.”

Charlie snapped his fingers. “I’ve got all those cans of fuel I brought from home. We don’t need all of those since we found that gas storage tank. And I bet they could put them to use in Los Gatos, since they haven’t gotten out as much as we have.”

“Good thinking,” Nick said before he went out to the tool shed.

Between the four of them, they gathered up a small collection of valuable things to trade. Nick scratched his head. “Well, it’s not much, but it’s all we have to spare right now.”

“Yeah, this won’t get us much in trade, but that’s okay,” Liz said. “The important thing is that we have friendly neighbors.”

Nick agreed silently. To be honest, he was pleasantly surprised that these folks wanted to trade with them at all. The people in Los Gatos were nearly self-sufficient, and there probably wasn’t much they were lacking.

He figured the trade was more about forming an alliance – a way to seal the deal. That was just fine with him. An alliance with a large group of neighbors was invaluable.

They packed the items up in backpacks and filed out onto the porch to find the three men waiting patiently.

“All ready?” Raymond asked.

“All ready.”

Nick and Raymond led the way, with the others chattering excitedly as they walked behind them.

In Los Gatos, Liz, Charlie, and Nick spread the items out on a large patio table in front of Raymond’s house.

“I’m afraid it isn’t much,” Nick said. “Unfortunately, we weren’t as prepared as we would have liked. These are the only things we have to trade.”

He looked over at Raymond, Daniel, and Anne as they surveyed the items casually. Sylvia and some of the others from the village were there as well. An even larger table had been set up nearby, and it was heaped over with what seemed like an endless supply of treasures from the families.

Chicken and duck eggs, garden fresh vegetables, goat cheese, jars of honey, and freshly baked bread occupied one section of the table. Nearby were hand-knit scarves, socks, and hats. A few handwoven baskets and ceramic pots were filled with some small tools, and a small assortment of herbal salves and medicinal tinctures were on the table as well.

A gorgeous fixed blade knife like the one Daniel had lay shining on the table. There was even an elaborate corn husk doll in the corner that Nick noticed Mia was looking at.

The offerings from the Los Gatos families made the stuff from Nick’s lodge pale in comparison. He figured their own measly things might be worth some of the food and maybe a few warm pairs of socks.

Anne glanced at Raymond and gave him a small nod.

“Okay. If you accept this trade, we do as well,” Raymond said decisively.

Nick was confused. “Which things do you want to trade?”

“All of it,” Anne said simply.

“Do you mean you want to trade everything on your table for everything on our table?” Charlie asked doubtfully.

“That’s what we mean,” Raymond said.

Nick looked at Liz and Charlie, then at Mia. They were speechless.

“We can’t accept all this,” Nick began. “It’s not a fair trade to you. You’re giving us way too much.”

Anne took a step forward. “You saved our son’s life. I only wish it were more.”

“But you folks need all these things,” Nick protested. “The winter’s coming, and I don’t want you to go without.”

“We won’t go without,” Raymond said firmly. “Please, take these things with our blessings.”

Nick looked at Daniel, who met his gaze and nodded once.

Anne took the doll and placed it gently in Mia’s hands. “Do you like this?”

Mia nodded. “I love it. Thank you.”

Anne looked up at Nick and smiled.

“It’s a good trade,” she said.

Driving home, Nick smiled, thinking about their good fortune. More than the generous gifts, it was nice to have friends. And it was a relief to know that there were still good people in the world.

All he needed now was for Jessa to return home in one piece. She had promised not to be gone longer than two or three days. That would put her back tomorrow or the next day.

She’ll probably get back tomorrow, he thought to himself. He tried to ignore the nagging worry he felt about her.

14

Jessa was approaching Denver.

It had been a long drive, and she was looking forward to arriving at her destination soon. On the outskirts of town, she exited the interstate.

She needed to load up on gas, and there appeared to be several gas stations and businesses off the next exit. Wherever there were businesses, there were usually abandoned cars to be found. And some of them were sure to have gas she could siphon.

She pulled into a massive truck stop and parked her light green pickup in the side parking lot. She grabbed her gear and approached a nearby Dodge Neon. It was parked neatly within the lines of a parking space.

Using her double tubing system, she quickly found that the gas tank was empty. She moved on to a van parked nearby. Also empty.

She had barely eaten all day, and her growling stomach was getting the best of her. She decided to continue the search for gas after raiding the truck stop for edible food.

The store had long before been broken into, and the glass from the bashed-in door crunched under her boots as she walked inside. She was relieved to find a lot of food remained on the shelves, even though it had been picked through. It was a large truck stop, and she passed through aisles of trinkets and souvenirs before she arrived at the main food section.

Taking a few cans of tuna and chicken, she threw them into her backpack before moving on to the salty snack section. She crossed the aisles to the back of the store in search of bottles of Gatorade, but she froze when she heard the front door opening.

She quietly withdrew her Glock from its holster as she heard the sound of men entering. They stepped over the broken glass, talking loudly.

“I don’t know, Will. It just seems crazy to me. I still can’t believe you shot that guy.”

Jessa swallowed. It sounded like there were three of them, and at least one of them was armed. She was no match for them.

“I already told you, Aaron. The boss says we have to put anybody down trying to steal food. How are we supposed to live if we let people take what’s ours?”

Jessa looked around. There was no way out that wouldn’t get her detected. The men were near the front door, and they would see her if she took the side door through the restaurant.

“I know, I know, but it just seems a little extreme, you know?”

“Dude, if you want to be a BSC, this is how things work. And if you don’t want to get on Bobby’s bad side, you’ll have to play by his rules. Otherwise you’ll be on your own out there.”

“And I wouldn’t recommend that. Not if you want to stay in Denver,” a third voice said.

Driven by panic, Jessa moved silently to the end of the aisle. She could see their shadows from where the men stood a few aisles over. She had to do something fast.

Ducking around the corner, she tiptoed into the back hallway. She heard the men’s voices rising – they were arguing about something. A loud crash rang through the store. It sounded like a display case falling to the floor.

She took that opportunity to push open an unmarked door at the end of the hallway. She closed the door behind her soundlessly, praying they didn’t hear her movement.

The muffled sounds of arguing continued out front as Jessa stood in the pitch black room. She fumbled in her pocket for a small flashlight and swept the beam of light across the room. Shelves stacked with merchandise lined the walls. She was in a storeroom. Her pulse quickened as she realized that there were no windows.

No way out.

She would just have to wait for the men to leave.

She needed to find a place to hide in case anyone entered the storeroom. There were some large cardboard boxes stacked high in the corner. She moved them away from the wall to create a space large enough for her to crouch in. It wasn’t the best hiding place, but it was all she had.

Jessa tried to slow her breathing down as she hid herself behind the boxes. She strained to make out what the men were saying in the front of the store.

“Clean all this crap up. You know how we’re supposed to keep these stores neat. We need to get out of here and meet Bobby in twenty minutes.”

They were leaving. Jessa just had to wait a few more minutes, then she would get out after they were gone. But suddenly she heard footsteps approaching the storeroom.

Her heart began to pound again. It thumped wildly in her chest, and she feared it was so loud the men would be able to hear it. She held her breath, willing her body to be as still as possible as the footsteps came closer to the back room.

The doorknob jostled, and she braced herself. Her Glock was in her hand, and if she had to, she would shoot her way out. Maybe she would get lucky.

But the door didn’t open. Instead, she heard the sound of a key being inserted and the deadbolt turning. The key was withdrawn. Then the footsteps began again, this time moving away from the storeroom.

Her breathing quickened and her palms grew sweaty, still crouched behind the cardboard boxes. She heard the men speaking, their voices muffled as they moved farther away.

“Okay, everything’s locked up back there. They told us to keep all the doors locked in these stores that we can.”

“Good, let’s get the hell out of here. Don’t want to keep Bobby waiting.”

She heard a car start outside the store, then drive off.

When she was sure they were gone, Jessa ran over to the door and felt for the flip lever on the deadbolt. But there was none. Just a keyhole.

Panicked, she clicked on the flashlight and looked at the door. The deadbolt was a double cylinder and needed a key to open it from both sides.

She was locked inside.

They were gone, and she was trapped.

15

Jessa wrestled with the door and the doorknob, turning the knob and kicking at the door. But the door was made of metal – strong and resistant to her futile attempts to break the lock.

She sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall, thinking. She could hear her breathing as it grew short and quick until she was almost panting. She had to calm down.

Why would they have a double cylinder deadbolt on this thing? she thought, her mind racing. It was a major code violation, not that codes mattered anymore.

Jessa returned to her feet and clicked the flashlight on again. The room was tightly packed with shelves, boxes, and merchandise everywhere, which added to the sense of claustrophobia.

She began to search through the room, looking for a spare set of keys or anything she could use to pick the lock or remove the doorknob. The flashlight illuminated only small areas, and the darkness outside its beam seemed to close in on her.

After a long while, she gave up and returned to sit on the cool floor. She was sweaty and breathless.

It was hopeless. She wasn't getting out of the room until someone unlocked it.

Over and over her mind returned to the same fear: running out of oxygen. She tried to stay calm, because her anxiety was making her breathe faster. She had to distract herself.

She ate a can of tuna and some trail mix, then washed it down with a Gatorade. After sitting a while with the flashlight off to conserve its battery, she flicked it back on. The darkness was getting to her. She had to find something to occupy her mind.

Jessa began to explore the shelves and inventory, unpacking boxes, organizing the cans, reading the labels. She filled her backpack with a selection of the best food she could find, then changed her mind and repacked it several times. When she had exhausted herself with pointless tasks, she sat down to eat again.

She hoped that at least a couple of hours had passed. Most of all, she hoped that someone would be back to unlock the store room tomorrow, but she had no way to know. What if no one returned for days or weeks?

She had plenty of food and liquid, but she doubted she would survive in this room for that long. Even if there was enough air supply, her flashlight battery would eventually run out. Sitting in the cramped, pitch black room to wait indefinitely seemed like an impossible feat. And that was assuming she’d make it out alive once those men discovered her.

Finally, she decided to try to sleep a little. She broke down a cardboard box, flattening it. It was the only protection she had from the cold, concrete floor. She curled up on the cardboard and clicked the flashlight off. The room became pitch black. When sleep finally came, it was welcome relief.

She woke frequently through the night, alert to any sound. At some point, she could sleep no longer, though she had no inkling of the time of day or night. She began to pace the room once more.

When she was awake, she kept the flashlight off as long as she could. But sooner or later, the darkness would become unbearable. She’d always break down and turn it back on for a while, standing it up on its end to illuminate the space like a candle.

When she felt certain she had been in the room for at least ten hours – or maybe it was only six or eight? – the flashlight’s beam began to pulse and weaken.

“No!” she muttered under her breath. “Don’t go out.”

She clicked the switch off, deciding to save the last bit of the battery in case of emergency. Returning to her cardboard bed in the pitch black darkness, she fought back the tears that were threatening to spill down her face and tried to return to sleep.

Someone was in the truck stop again. Muffled voices woke her, and her eyes flew open. She quietly rose to her feet, grabbed a bottle of wine, and stood against the wall behind the door.

“Shut up and go see if there’s any beer in the storeroom,” a vaguely familiar voice said. “I told Bobby we should never have let you in.”

Footsteps approached the door and a man muttered under his breath something indecipherable. Jessa held her breath as the key turned in the deadbolt. The heavy door pushed open with Jessa standing unseen behind it.

Light flooded the room. A haggard looking man stepped inside the room and looked at the merchandise scattered across the room.

“What the –”

Jessa slammed the bottle of wine over the man’s head before he could finish his question. The glass shattered, sending broken shards and cheap Merlot everywhere. The man fell forward in a slump, unconscious.

Jessa grabbed her bag and drew her pistol.

“That good for nothing –”

A middle-aged, obese man rounded the corner and froze when he saw Jessa’s gun. By the time he started to reach for his own, Jessa had already fired, hitting him in his chest. He fell down dead.

Jessa edged forward in the hallway, looking up and down the store. Where was the third man?

Everything was silent for a moment and her eyes darted nervously around.

Then, the sound of “I Love Denver” snow globes crashing to the floor rang through the store.

“Come out where I can see you!” Jessa called.

A young Latino man, perhaps just a teenager, stepped cautiously into the center aisle with his hands up.

“Please don’t shoot me, lady,” he implored.

“Give me your gun,” Jessa said. “Put it on the floor and slide it over to me, slowly.”

“I don’t have any guns,” he said.

Jessa narrowed her eyes, the Glock trained on him.

“Man, Bobby’s going to kill me,” he said as he took a pistol from his waistband and set it on the floor. “You may as well just shoot me now.”

He slid it across the smooth floor to Jessa and she retrieved it, never taking her eyes off him.

“Is there anybody else?” Jessa asked.

“No, just the three of us.”

“Go stand over there, facing the coolers with your hands on your head. I want you to stay like that until you hear my truck down the road,” Jessa said.

The guy did as she instructed, and she quickly moved toward the front entrance.

“I think you need to make some new friends,” Jessa said. “Bobby doesn’t sound too nice. And your partners back there weren’t all that great either.”

The kid laughed. “You must be new to town.”

Jessa didn’t respond. She was at the door now.

Freedom, in the form of her Forest Service truck, was just a few dozen yards away in the side lot. She moved quickly to her vehicle, careful to scan the area for anyone else.

Once her truck was roaring down the highway, she leaned her head out the open window. Sunlight and fresh air had never felt so good.

16

Jessa drove through the sleepy suburb of Castle Hills on high alert. Although the area seemed peaceful and deserted, she couldn’t fall into the trap of letting her guard down. Since leaving the truck stop, she had been worrying about running into any other thugs. If she could make it just a few more miles, she would arrive at the 470 loop, where she would hopefully bypass the worst of Denver.

From what she overheard in the truck stop, it sounded like the area was controlled by organized gangs. And they sounded dangerous. She just had to get through this next stretch of road, then she could start to head west toward Chris’s cabin.

She saw no signs of life in the suburb, just a few tumbleweeds blowing across the road. It was late afternoon. She had lost an entire day and night stuck in that horrible storeroom. She stepped on the gas, wanting to make up for lost time and itching to get out of this potentially dangerous area.

In Lone Pine, just a few miles shy of 470, her low fuel indicator light came on. She pounded her fist on the steering wheel in frustration. She would have to stop for gas. Running out of fuel in the middle of nowhere could be a death sentence.

She took the next exit off the interstate. Taking a chance, she turned down a quiet road. With some luck, she’d be able to find an abandoned car off the beaten track to siphon gas from.

The motionless landscape was suddenly broken by a movement to her right. She gasped, her core tightening.

A woman had jumped out from behind a boulder in a large wooded area just before Jessa drove past. Jessa looked in her rear-view mirror to find the woman frantically flagging her down.

Jessa came to a stop, grabbed her Glock from her holster, and threw the truck into reverse. Something about the woman made her break her vow to never trust anyone.

“I need help!” the woman breathlessly exclaimed to Jessa. “They’re after me. I need a ride out of here!”

Jessa paused a moment, her eyes flashing over the distressed woman and to the area around them.

She couldn’t know if it was a trap or not. It was against all reason to trust the woman, but she couldn’t make herself leave her behind. The woman’s terrified eyes wouldn't let her.

The woman lifted her shirt a couple of inches to reveal her waistband. “See? I don’t have a gun. You’re just going to have to trust me, or those guys are going to find us and kill us both!”

Jessa unlocked the door and the woman climbed in.

“Go back the other way!” the woman pleaded before she had even closed the door.

Jessa did a U-turn, eyeing the woman suspiciously.

“I know how to use this thing,” she said, glancing down at the pistol as she wedged it in between her seat and the middle console. “Don’t even think about doing anything stupid. And if you’re leading me into a trap, it’s your ass.”

The woman was frantically turning around to watch the road behind them.

“It’s not a trap, I swear. Some really bad men are back there looking for me. And I don’t think they would treat you too nice if they found you either. Believe me, I’m doing you a favor by stopping you. They would have found you back there.”

They arrived back at the interstate, and Jessa was about to head north when the woman stopped her.

“You can’t go that way,” she said. “They’ve got men stationed all over that area. Go straight.”

“But I need to get to Loop 470,” Jessa protested. “And I need gas.”

The woman pointed straight ahead. “Go that way. We have to take back roads. The Loop is a nightmare. It’s their prime territory. You’ll never make it out of there.”

Jessa sighed, but she drove straight under the interstate overpass.

The woman was still twisted around looking toward the back. “Go faster!”

The light green truck raced along the empty road. When they had covered several miles without seeing anyone, the woman relaxed a little and settled in her seat.

“Okay, I think we’re in the clear for now. I don’t think anyone controls these areas,” she said.

Jessa watched from the corner of her eye as the woman pulled down the passenger sun visor and glanced at herself in the mirror. Rather than primping in the mirror, the woman seemed to be incredulous she was still alive. Jessica could see the woman had been through hell, and she knew she wasn’t walking into a trap. Her distrust melted away.

The woman took a deep breath, then glanced at Jessa.

“I’m Trina. Thank you for the ride. I probably would’ve died back there.”

“I’m Jessa. And no problem about the ride. Sounds like you saved me, too. What happened back there?”

“I almost never go out. But I had to today. I was down to almost no food, and I had to make a run. I didn’t know those bastards made it this far south.”

Trina glanced in the side mirror again, checking that no one was following them.

“I found a house with a couple of pantry shelves full of food. I loaded it up and got out of there as fast as I could. But those bastards found me. I ran like hell, but they tracked me down and dragged me back to their car. There were two of them, just as mean and ugly as can be.”

Jessa listened with her mouth agape. “How did you escape?”

“They may be big and mean, but they sure are stupid. Threw me in the backseat with the doors unlocked. When they slowed down to turn, I jumped out. Rolled down the ditch. Stung like hell.”

Trina inspected her arms, which were covered in scrapes. “I ran just as fast as I could, and they lost me in that park back there. I made it to the edge of the woods, but I was afraid to leave my hiding spot until I saw you drive up.”

Jessa exhaled. “That’s some story,” she said sympathetically. “You’re lucky you got out of that one.”

Trina nodded, her eyes fixed to the side mirror.

“You must not be from around here if you’re just driving around alone like this,” Trina said.

Jessa shook her head. “No, I’m not. I’m driving in from New Mexico.”

Trina’s eyes went big. “New Mexico? What’s it like down there now?”

“Not nearly as bad as Denver has gotten,” Jessa said. “I’ve had my fair share of run-ins though.”

“Well, Denver is my hometown. It was always a great place to live until two weeks ago. Now it’s hell on earth. The survivors of the virus have split off into gangs. From what I’ve heard, there are two main ones, and they’re always fighting for control. And if you’re not in a gang at all, they make you join. Or you’re just target practice to them. God knows what they do to the women.”

Jessa shook her head and glanced again at Trina, who looked to be about forty. Her brown hair hung down her shoulders, tousled from her escape. She was wearing athletic clothing. It looked expensive but torn up, as if she had gotten into a brawl on the way to Zumba class.

“I lived back there in Lone Pine. All my family died – my husband, three kids. I just wish that virus would’ve taken me too. Everything’s just so… miserable now. Denver has become a living hell.”

“So you stayed in your house all this time?” Jessa asked.

“I went out more in the beginning. I thought I would go crazy not having anybody to talk to, and I wanted to know if there were other survivors. But I hid every time I heard anybody, and pretty soon I realized it was too dangerous to leave the house. I got out enough to figure out what’s going on now.”

Jessa looked around at the stark landscape. “Do you think it’s safe to turn down one of these side streets and look for fuel? I need to get gas soon.”

Trina looked skeptical. “The gas stations don’t work anymore, you know.”

Jessa chuckled. “Yeah, I know. I’m going to siphon gas out of an abandoned car.”

“Oh. Well, in that case, you can turn down any of these roads. I don’t think any of those guys come out here.”

Jessa nodded and turned right onto the next residential road. The street was full of large suburban houses, many of them with cars parked out in front. Jessa parked near the first SUV she saw, but found the tank to be empty. Trina sat in the truck while Jessa tested two more vehicles. They were all empty.

“Do you think those guys made it out here? Somebody’s drained all the tanks,” Jessa said as she hurried over to a Lexis she hadn’t tried yet.

“I don’t know. If all the tanks are drained, that means they probably did it. And it means they could come back, so hurry!” Trina called.

After trying two more vehicles, Jessa got in the truck and drove a few blocks away. The suburban neighborhood was full of cars, and they were all empty. She tried tank after tank to no avail, walking through the desolate suburban street with her gas gear while Trina nervously watched and listened for any approaching vehicles.

Finally, Jessa spotted a riding lawnmower left abandoned on a half-mown lawn and inserted her tubing system. She forced some air into the side hose. She smiled as the gas spewed out of the main hose into her can. She was able to drain two gallons from the mower, which she added to the truck’s fuel tank.

“It’s not enough, but at least it will get us to where we can find more in a safer area,” Jessa said, getting back in the truck and driving off.

Trina nodded and looked out the window.

“Do you want to come with me?” Jessa asked. “It doesn’t sound like you can really go back to your house now.”

“Sure, anything to get out of here. Where in New Mexico are we going?” Trina asked.

“I’m not going to New Mexico yet. First I’ve got to go to a cabin near Idaho Springs.”

Trina blinked. “Idaho Springs? That’s not in Denver, is it?”

“No, it’s not. It’s about an hour west of Denver on I-70. And actually, I’m going to a remote cabin in the woods south of Idaho Springs.”

“I-70?” Trina asked, frowning. “That’s all gang controlled. You can’t go out there. Let’s just go back to New Mexico right now.”

“I don’t think so,” Jessa said, starting to get a little annoyed. “I’ve been through way too much to turn back now. I’m going to that cabin.”

Trina crossed her arms and pouted. “Why do you want to go out there anyway? What’s so important?”

“I’m going to look for my friend Chris.”

“How do you know he’s still alive?”

Jessa gripped her steering wheel a little more tightly. “I don’t. That’s why I’m going up there to see. He left Santa Fe when the virus was just beginning.”

“Well, if we take the interstate, they’ll either capture us or kill us. Interstates are all gang controlled. Trust me. Those were the first areas they took over.”

Jessa exhaled. “If the interstate is too dangerous, we’ll just have to take the back roads.”

“You got a state map?”

Jessa shook her head. “No, and I don’t want to go into any truck stops looking for one.”

17

Matt drove until the sun started to get low. He worried about being on the road after dark. But the thought of spending the night somewhere was even more terrifying. What if he ran into other survivors who were dangerous like the man who shot at him?

The trip was taking longer than he’d expected. He wasn’t comfortable driving over about forty or fifty miles an hour, so the pace was slower than what he was used to with his family.

Just before Stephenville, on Highway 281, he found an old farmhouse. It looked like no one had lived there in a while, even before the virus. There were no vehicles around, and an old dairy barn in the back was falling down.

He figured it was a good place to spend the night. Less chance of running into more guys like he had seen earlier.

He kicked the door in and looked around inside. Empty. He spent a restless night on the couch, then got on the road again early in the morning.

Matt’s gas tank was nearly empty by the time he reached Abilene. As much as he wanted to stick to the relative safety of the highway, he needed to venture into town in search of fuel.

The small city was just as desolate as all the rest he had seen. He exited the highway and pulled into a gas station. There were several abandoned cars around the station, and he hoped he could siphon gas from one of them.

As he turned into the station parking lot, he was startled to see a person standing there. His hand reflexively reached for his shotgun as he tensed up.

But a second later, he realized that it was a woman. Her belly was round and as huge as a watermelon. He blinked, realizing she was heavily pregnant.

She waved at him and he turned into a parking spot cautiously, killing the engine. She wore loose jeans, flip-flops, and a T-shirt that stretched over her belly. She had a mane of brown curls, which she pushed out of the way behind her shoulders.

He stepped out of the truck and she watched him from her vantage point a few yards away.

“Hello there!” she called. “Am I happy to see you! I could use some help.”

She walked over to Matt’s truck, looking him over. She frowned as she approached him. “Aren’t you a little young to be driving? How old are you?”

“Thirteen,” Matt said sheepishly.

“You don’t even look tall enough to reach the pedals,” she said doubtfully.

“I’m tall enough,” Matt said, a little defensively. “I made it this far. All the way from East Texas.”

The woman raised her eyebrows. “That’s a long drive. What’s your name?”

“Matthew Redmond. Or just plain Matt. What’s yours?”

“Bethany Jones.”

They shook hands, and Bethany leaned against a car parked nearby.

“Are you all alone? No one in your family or friends survived?”

Matt shook his head sadly. “Everyone’s gone. The only thing alive I saw in my town were cockroaches and a mountain lion.”

“Yeah, I’ve been on my own for over a week now. Or is it two weeks? It’s hard to keep track of time,” Bethany said shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“I’ve been in Abilene this whole time. There are some other survivors around here, but mostly I steer clear of them. Lots of sketchy people. That’s why I was happy to see you,” Bethany smiled. “You’ve got a nice face. And you’re so young. Aren’t you scared driving a truck all by yourself?”

“Yeah, a little.” Matt kicked at the dirt and looked away.

“I’ve been hiding out at home most of the time,” Bethany said, twirling a chestnut ringlet around her finger. She spoke quickly, excited to have someone to talk to.

“I hate going out to look for food. You have to break into people’s houses and sneak around in stores. It’s dangerous. And I can’t do it forever. Sooner or later, this place is going to run out of food and water. That’s why you found me here.”

Bethany flicked her hand toward the shabby gas station. “I’m out here looking for a car. I want to get out of this town. I just need to find a car with keys still in it. Problem is, those cars usually have a dead driver still in them.”

Matt blinked as Bethany continued to tell him all about her attempts to find a suitable vehicle and how she didn’t trust her own car to hold up on a long road trip. She also needed a vehicle with a full tank of gas, she explained.

He hadn’t had a conversation with anyone in so long, and Bethany’s fast-paced speech was a jolt to his system. He had to get used to talking to someone all over again.

“Well, where do you want to go?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe down to Erath County? Did all the milk cows die from the Hosta virus?”

Bethany continued before Matt could even think of an answer.

“If the cows are still alive, a person could just about live off the milk. I could learn how to make cheese, too. I don’t know how to slaughter a cow for meat, but how hard can it be? I could learn.”

Matt’s eyes wandered down to her belly.

Bethany laughed, and her hands moved to her protruding abdomen. “After this one comes, of course. Then I can become a cowgirl like the best of them.”

“When, uh, when –”

“When’s the baby coming? One more month, I think. Like I said, I kind of lost track of time. I mean, the due date is October 15, but I’m not sure what day it is today.” She looked down at her belly. “I just know that Nathan died on a Friday. And that was the worst day of my life. He was so happy to be a daddy. We had so many plans...”

Bethany looked away and wiped tears from her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Matt began.

Bethany waved his worry away. “It’s not your fault. It’s just been rough being on my own since my husband died.”

Matt nodded. Though his grief, like Bethany’s, was still raw, he had to admit there was a lot of comfort in talking to somebody else.

Bethany laughed. “This baby was making me cry all the time even before the Hosta virus.”

Map smiled at her, then the corners of his mouth fell as he remembered something. “I drove through Erath County.”

Bethany’s eyes went wide. “Really? Did you see the cows?”

Matt nodded. “Most of them were lying dead in the fields. It was sad to see that.”

Bethany’s face fell. “Oh. Well, so much for that plan. I guess the virus got them, too. But I can grow some veggies at least. Maybe I can find a farm with some canned meats.”

Matt hesitated a moment, then began. “I’m going out to New Mexico. My dad and uncle had a cabin out there. Our families were supposed to meet there in case anything bad happened, like, well, the Hosta virus. And, since no one from my family made it…”

“You’re going out there to see if your uncle made it?” Bethany interjected.

Matt nodded. “My uncle, aunt, or my cousin. I don’t know, maybe it’s stupid, but I hope somebody survived.”

“It’s not stupid! It’s a great idea. You have to at least try to find them. Me, all my family lived in Abilene. I know they’re all gone.”

“Do you, I mean, would you…”

“Do I want to go out to New Mexico with you?” Bethany asked.

Matt nodded.

“Yes!” Bethany exclaimed loudly, making Matt jump. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“I have to warn you, it’s in the mountains and it’s in the middle of nowhere.”

Bethany scoffed. “Now that everyone is dead, everywhere is in the middle of nowhere.”

“Our families had some food stored there, and it’s got well water. And maybe we can have a garden. And hunt.”

“Sounds perfect,” Bethany said. Then her eyes went large again. “It’s not cold there, is it?”

“Yeah, it gets cold there at night. It’s in the mountains. And there’s probably snow in the winter,” Matt said reluctantly.

Bethany paused for a moment, looking absently in the distance.

“It doesn’t matter. I can live with it. I’ll just have to get some warmer clothes from somewhere if I’m going to have to deal with snow. I mean, we get snow around here, but it just melts the next day,” Bethany said in a lowered voice as if confiding to an old friend.

“And there is a wood stove in the house. We can have fires to heat the place,” Matt said.

Suddenly a fear gripped Matt’s stomach as he realized how crazy the plan was. He was still a kid, just barely turned teenager, and he was going to take a heavily pregnant woman into the wilderness? What about when the baby came? He felt horribly unequipped to deal with any of it.

“Are you sure this is okay? Driving out into the mountains with a baby on the way? What about when it’s time for you to have it?” Matt asked doubtfully.

Bethany bit her lip. “To be honest, I’m scared senseless about the whole thing. But I’m on my own here. At least out at your family’s place, there might be other people. Plus, I’ve got a whole suitcase full of medical supplies I found. I broke into a midwife’s clinic and took them, plus a big stack of books I’ve been studying. There’s even one on unassisted childbirth.”

Matt wasn’t sure he understood everything she was saying, but it sounded at least a little hopeful. Bethany pursed her lips and exhaled.

“I think I’m about as prepared as I’ll ever be. I don’t want to have the baby here in Abilene. Sometimes I hear gunshots and it scares me to death.”

Matt agreed that she shouldn’t stay alone in the city. “How about this: we go out to my family’s lodge and check it out. If no one’s there and you want to leave, we can go look for a farm.”

Bethany nodded her head once. “It’s a plan.”

“What did you need help with?” Matt asked, remembering what she had said when she first saw him.

“Oh,” Bethany laughed. “I wanted to ask you to help me drag a dead body out of a car. But that’s not necessary now. I’ll just ride with you, right?”

Matt nodded. “Of course.”

With Matt behind the wheel of the Ford pickup once again, the two of them traveled to Bethany’s place a few blocks away.

It was getting dark, and he helped her light a few candles. They ate a hodgepodge meal of packaged foods, then Matt helped Bethany pack the belongings she wanted to take. She chattered excitedly, and Matt felt his loneliness began to subside. Already, Bethany had started to feel like a big sister to him.

After Bethany said good night and retreated to her bedroom, Matt stretched out in the guest room in the empty house. Tomorrow would be a long day, and he was exhausted. Giving in to the pull of sleep, he drifted off. It was the first time in two weeks he felt hopeful for the future.

18

“We’re not lost!”

Trina insisted.

“Then where are we?” Jessa asked in exasperation.

“We’re traveling west on 103,” Trina said in a huff.

Jessa groaned. “Perfect. Now the low fuel light came on again. Just what we need.”

“Well, at least we’re safe out here,” Trina said. “You can just siphon some gas off some abandoned car, right?”

“Yes, but do you see any abandoned cars out here? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“Okay, we might be a little lost,” Trina conceded. “But at least there are no gangs out here. We’ve got a while until we run out of gas. We’ll probably find something soon.”

Jessa fumed silently, annoyed by Trina’s unrealistic optimism. Jessa didn’t know where they were, and she was scared.

But if she were to be honest, she had to admit that Trina had probably saved their lives. From the conversations she overheard in the truck stop, it seemed clear that Denver was controlled by dangerous elements. It appeared that Jessa and Trina had avoided the worst areas, but now they were lost on back roads and running out of fuel.

The water supply wasn’t doing that great either. The day had been hot and dusty, and they hadn’t paced themselves with drinking water. She cursed herself for not looking for more water in the suburbs, but running from gang members had a way of making a person forgetful.

The highway they were on cut through steep hills covered in scrubby trees and brush and followed the winding topography. Jessa slowed as they came to an intersection with a small, unmarked road. She looked down the road in both directions, but saw nothing, and continued forward.

As they passed the intersection, Trina jumped a little, startled, and she turned in her seat to look behind them.

“What?” Jessa asked warily. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Trina said, still peering at the road behind them. “I – I thought I saw something move back there. But I don’t see anything now. It must’ve been nothing.”

Jessa kept an eye on the rear-view, but she didn’t see anything as they continued on.

They didn’t speak for a few miles of desolate landscape. Finally, Trina broke the silence and leaned over to look at the fuel gauge.

“How are we doing?” she asked.

“A little lower than the last time you asked,” Jessa said. “We’re going to have to find something soon.”

Trina bit her lip and settled back in her seat, looking out the window.

Jessa flashed her eyes up to the rear-view mirror. The dry landscape remained still and unbroken. Clenching the steering wheel with her heart pounding, she pressed on. Each mile seemed interminably long.

“Look!” Trina exclaimed, pointing at the road sign at the intersection they were approaching. “It says, ‘151 North. Idaho Springs – 42 miles.’”

She looked at Jessa triumphantly, and Jessa smiled in spite of herself as she turned onto the small highway.

“It’s great we found the right highway, but we still need gas.”

“Yeah, I know,” Trina muttered.

“And, it looks like this road is climbing into the mountains, which means –“

“I know, I know,” Trina interrupted. “It will burn up our gas faster.” She blew a puff of air upward to remove the hair from her eyes.

They rode in a tense silence for several more miles.

The truck began to choke and sputter as they climbed a steep hill. Jessa sucked in air through her clenched teeth. “Come on, come on,” she whispered, pounding the dashboard and urging the truck to reach the crest of the hill.

It sluggishly climbed to the top of the hill, rolled a few more feet, then died. Jessa groaned.

They both got out of the truck to look around. From the top of the hill, she could see that the road was straight and level for several hundred yards, then followed the hill down and curved sharply to the right. A gravel road intersected with the highway after the curve.

“I think that gravel road is where we’re going to be spending the night tonight,” Jessa said. “One of us will have to push the truck down there, and the other will steer.”

“What? Where exactly will we sleep?” Trina asked doubtfully.

Jessa patted the truck door. “You’re looking at it.”

Trina scrunched up her nose. “Are you serious? We can’t sleep in this truck tonight!”

“Do you have any better ideas? It’ll be dark in a couple of hours. I don’t want to be stuck on this mountain road walking up and down looking for gas after dark. Do you?”

Trina shook her head.

“And it’s probably not a good idea to leave the truck in plain view on the highway, right?”

“Not with those maniacs driving around,” Trina said.

“Well, it doesn’t leave us with a lot of other options.”

“Fine. The truck it is. But I don’t want to be the one to steer this truck down there.”

“Can you push this thing?” Jessa asked, with an eyebrow raised.

Trina put her hands on her hips. “I lift weights, I’ll have you know. Or, I used to.”

“Be my guest,” Jessa said.

Jessa hopped in the truck and put it in neutral. Then she stepped out and began to push the truck from the driver’s side door frame. Trina pushed from the rear, and the Forest Service truck began to roll forward. Jessa jumped in as it began to descend the hill, picking up speed quickly and curving around the bend. She applied the brakes slightly as she turned down the gravel road, then coasted several hundred feet down the road.

Trina joined her momentarily, and the two of them pushed the heavy truck along the dusty road as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

They maneuvered it to a stop among a stand of pine trees, where it was out of sight from the main highway. Trina bent over with her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

“I thought you were a fitness fanatic,” Jessa said.

Trina stuck out her tongue, and Jessa smiled. They looked around at the empty landscape – no buildings, cars, or signs of humans as far as the eye could see. A vulture circled overhead.

Trina watched the bird. “It’s almost like that buzzard is waiting for us to die.” She shivered.

Jessa looked away, rifling through the truck to keep herself busy. She cursed herself for not bringing any camping gear. She hadn’t expected to find herself in this situation, though. She had expected to make it to Chris’s cabin in only one day. Still though, she should have known to be prepared for the unexpected.

She supposed it didn’t matter all that much anyway. It was better to sleep in the truck rather than be caught off-guard in a tent. This way, they could leave in a hurry if they needed to.

The road had thrown some unforeseen challenges her way. Nick had warned her that the journey could be dangerous. But so far, she had done a pretty good job of taking care of herself and even Trina as well, despite the setback they were currently facing. She just had to stay alert and be ready for anything. They were near their destination, but now they had to look for gas. What would have been a simple task just two weeks ago had become a dangerous mission.

Jessa studied the rough map Chris had given her as they ate the food she had taken from the truck stop. Meanwhile, Trina lamented having to leave behind all her belongings, knowing she’d never be able to return to her home with the gangs patrolling the area.

“My kids’ art projects, their little birthday cards they made for me, our wedding pictures – oh, all the pictures! Just gone!”

Jessa nodded sympathetically. She had at least been able to take a few possessions from her own home with her – a few sentimental items – that waited her return back in New Mexico.

“And these are all the clothes I have. Just some torn up leggings and a shirt.”

“We’ll get you some new clothes,” Jessa said. “And you can borrow my jacket for tonight.”

“Thanks,” Trina said, stealing a glance at the beat-up canvas jacket Jessa had thrown over the side wall of the truck bed. It was a far cry from Trina’s comfy fleece jackets or cotton sweaters at home, but she didn’t say anything.

“We’ll have to walk along the highway tomorrow,” Jessa said between bites of canned fish, changing the subject.

“Are you crazy?” Trina said. “Not with those murderers roaming around.”

“We need to find gas, Trina. I don’t think we’re going to find any down this gravel road. We have enough food for a day or two, and our water is running out.”

Jessa looked nervously at the dwindling water supply. She hadn’t counted on another person to eat and drink on this journey. And in the truck stop, she hadn’t had the time to load up on supplies like she had wanted. All she had was what fit into her small backpack.

Trina looked at the two water bottles, her eyebrows knitting together. “We can drink the juice from this can of peaches tonight. I won’t have any more water until tomorrow.”

Jessa forced a small smile. She was so thirsty, she had to restrain herself from guzzling one of the bottles right then. “Thanks, but we need to find some water and gas soon. Or that vulture and his friends are going to have a feast.”

“So, we’ll leave at daybreak tomorrow?”

“Yep. Chris’s cabin is a few miles south of Idaho Springs. I figure we’re about thirty-five miles from it. We’ll set out walking in that direction, and hopefully we’ll come across something.”

“So if worse comes to worst, we can just walk to Chris’s cabin, right?” Trina asked hopefully. “He’ll have water and food and a vehicle, right?”

Jessa took a small sip of the light syrup the peaches were packed in, careful not to spill any of the precious liquid. “Yes, but that’s a long way to walk. We really need at least a gallon of water each to do that in this dry heat.”

Trina leaned back against the truck. “As long as those damned gang members don’t get us, we’ll be fine.”

Jessa raised her eyebrows. “You’re optimistic.”

Trina smiled. “Those guys had me captive, and I escaped. I think I can survive almost anything now.” Her features were barely visible in the low light of dusk, but Jessa could see her eyes crinkle. “Don’t worry, we’ll find something.”

19

Matt was relieved when Bethany said she wanted to drive.

“No offense, but your driving could use some work. All the stopping and starting isn’t good for my nausea,” she complained.

Matt surrendered the truck keys without issue. He made a note to study the way Bethany drove. He needed to learn some better driving techniques.

They set out much later than he wanted. Matt had woken up shortly after dawn and packed up his things. He kept expecting Bethany to wake up, but she slept well into the morning. Then, they ate a leisurely breakfast.

Now they were setting out on the road while the sun was high overhead. It was still another 550 miles to their destination, and he worried they wouldn’t make it in one day.

“What if we don’t make it to the lodge today?” Matt asked nervously as Bethany maneuvered the truck onto the highway. There were abandoned cars all along the road through this stretch of highway.

“We’ll just keep driving tomorrow then, silly,” Bethany said, smiling.

“But I mean, what will we do tonight? Where will we sleep?”

“Oh, we’ll just look for some house to stay in. Everywhere you look there are empty houses. That part’s easy,” Bethany said with a wave of her hand.

“I don’t know,” Matt said uneasily. “What if we run into some bad guys?”

“We’ll be careful. Don’t worry. Let’s just hope for the best, and if the worst happens – do you know how to shoot the shotgun?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Matt said. “I mean, I’m not the best aim, I guess.”

Bethany bit her lip. “Everything will be okay.”

The miles flew by with Bethany driving. She went much faster than Matt’s pace the days before. In a couple of hours, they were in Lubbock, where they stopped for gas. The first home they looked in was well-stocked with food, and they enjoyed a hearty lunch before continuing west.

Soon they were crossing into the desert landscape of eastern New Mexico. Bethany grew tired, and Matt took over the driving. She gave him some pointers, and he started to feel a little more comfortable driving at higher speeds.

The miles passed by one after the other, with little change in the land around them. Everything was dry and brown, a dramatic difference from the Piney Woods where Matt grew up. Out here the population had always been scarce, and it was easy to forget the virus had killed off 96 percent of the world. In this bleak country, it almost looked like man had never set foot here. Matt looked forward to arriving in the mountains and the greener, forested areas found at higher altitudes.

By dusk, they had climbed into the mountains. At this elevation, everything looked different. Bethany had dozed off, and Matt gently shook her shoulder to wake her.

“Are we there yet?” Bethany asked groggily.

“No, but we’re getting close. It’s about another hour or two, I think,” Matt said uncertainly.

“It’s pretty out here,” Bethany said, looking at the scenery.

“Hey, would you mind driving? It’s different driving up and down these hills,” Matt said.

“Why don’t we stop for the night?” Bethany suggested. “Look, that sign says we’re just a few miles away from Juniper Pass. Let’s look for some house to sleep in. I don’t like driving on these winding roads either, especially not at night.”

Matt didn’t especially like the idea of staying the night when they were so close to the lodge, but he was anxious driving up and down the mountain roads. When they pulled into the resort town, it was dark. As much as he wanted to arrive at the lodge quickly, he figured it would be best to play it safe and stop for the night.

They drove through the town and settled on a sprawling brick home without cars parked in front.

It did not look lived in and appeared to be a vacation home. Bethany waddled inside, and Matt followed.

They swept their flashlights across the empty great room of the house. After checking all the rooms, they verified the house was empty. No dead bodies to contend with – the owners must have died in their house in the city.

Bethany found some candles in a drawer, and the flickering light made the place seem a little cozier.

“I need to lie down for a bit,” she said, stretching out on the giant sofa.

“No problem,” Matt said. “I’ll see what food there is to eat.”

The pantry was not well-stocked. There wasn’t much more than some bags of rice and dry beans. Matt felt ravenous now, so he didn’t want to wait to cook something time intensive.

“There’s not much to eat in here. I’ll go out to the truck and get some things,” he said.

With his shotgun slung over his shoulder, he walked back to the truck and began to dig through the boxes he had packed. A box of macaroni and cheese along with some dehydrated milk, and some trail mix to eat while the macaroni cooked – perfect.

Just as he was fishing the packages out of the boxes, a car pulled up out of nowhere. Somehow he had missed the sound of the engine, and now it was too late to hide. They had already seen him.

He slung his shotgun around, grasping it in his hands. As the car pulled up to the curb and parked, he began to shake from fear. Who were they? And why are they stopping?

Two men opened their car doors and stepped out. The driver bellowed out in his deep voice, “Good evening! Welcome to our fine community.”

“I – I don’t want any trouble,” Matt stuttered.

“Oh, we don’t either,” the man said. He studied Matt and looked in the house behind him. “Are you all alone?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Well, I don’t see anyone else inside that house,” the man said. He took a few steps closer. “If there was anybody with you, wouldn’t they be coming out right now to see who just drove up?”

Matt swallowed. He prayed Bethany stayed inside where they couldn’t see her. He didn’t want these men to hurt her. He raised the gun and pressed the butt firmly against his shoulder. “What do you want?”

The man whistled. “No need to get uppity. Ain’t that right, Smith?” He asked, turning back to look at his partner, who had walked around to the front of the car and was leaning against it.

“No need at all,” he said, fixing Matt with an icy stare.

The driver smiled at Matt. “You see, this is our town. You might say we’re the owners of the place. We keep things organized here, and we like to keep track of who comes and goes.”

“You can’t own this whole town,” Matt said.

“We beg to differ,” the deep voice said. “This is our home, see. This whole town. And it’s fine if you want to stay the night. Sleep, eat, enjoy the comforts of a fine home. The best Juniper Pass has to offer. And then, in the morning, you can be on your merry way.”

The skinny guy spit on the ground. “Kind of like a hotel.”

“Yeah, that’s right, kind of like a hotel. And just like a hotel room, you have to pay to stay here.” The man grinned and took a few steps closer.

Matt was trembling, but he didn’t want them to see that. “Stay right there!” he yelled.

The man threw his hands up, still smiling. "If you want to stay the night, the price isn't too bad. It's just that little shotgun there."

Matt squinted. "You're not getting my gun. We’ll leave. We'll go somewhere else. But you're not getting my shotgun."

"Did I say it's the price for spending the night?" The man threw his head back and laughed. "Silly me! It's the price for passing through. If you want to leave here alive, you'll have to hand that over."

The man began to step closer and closer. Matt switched the safety off. "I'm warning you," he said.

But his voice was weak. He didn't want to shoot the man. Please, please, just stay back, he thought.

The sound of the front door being thrown open behind Matt made the driver look up. Matt saw fear flash in his dark eyes.

"Get the hell away from him!" Bethany yelled.

The driver showed his hands again and backed away.

"Sorry ma'am," he said good-naturedly. "I didn't mean any harm. I just wanted to have a good look-see at this nice shotgun here."

Bethany walked up to stand beside Matt. Out of the corner of his eye, Matt saw that Bethany was holding an AR-15 rifle.

“Back up!” she ordered.

The man obediently backed away a few steps. "I was just telling your, uh, friend here that we’re the welcoming committee of Juniper Pass. It's a fine community, and you're welcome to stay the night and enjoy everything this town has to offer. Since you two are both equipped with a firearm, I thought you might be interested in a friendly trade."

"He tried to take my gun away from me," Matt muttered under his breath to Bethany. “He didn’t try to trade with me.”

The driver didn't hear that comment, and he continued babbling on. "I see your condition, ma'am, and I thought you might be interested in some pharmaceuticals. You know, just some things to help with nausea. And some painkillers for when the blessed event comes."

"I don't want any of your drugs. Now get out of here!" She motioned for them to leave with her head.

"What about you, son? I've got a little something that will help you grow big and tall."

Bethany's eyes became fiery. "You're not getting our guns!" she roared.

Matt cringed. He didn’t know she could yell like that.

"Okay, okay," the man said as he returned to his car. "But if you change your minds, we’ll be around."

The driver got back in his seat. The steely-eyed man stared at them a moment more, then winked before getting in on the passenger side.

The driver started the car, slowly pulled away, and drove off into the night.

Matt closed his eyes, catching his breath.

He lowered his gun, then turned to stare at Bethany in disbelief. "Where did you get that?"

"It was hidden under the couch, if you can believe it," Bethany said, lowering it carefully. "I nearly tripped on it when I stood up to come out here and see what was happening. When I heard that car drive up, I panicked."

"You did really well," Matt said. “Do you know how to shoot that?"

Bethany shook her head. "No, but I guess I did a pretty good job pretending I know, right?" She beamed proudly. "I watch a lot of gangster movies."

"Maybe tomorrow you can practice shooting at the lodge," Matt said.

Bethany nodded, holding the gun carefully in her hands and looking at it.

"I won't be able to sleep a wink with those two guys prowling around," she said.

"Me neither," Matt agreed. "Should we take our chances with the mountain roads?"

"I'd say so. But first, I want to search that house for some warm clothes. It's chilly up here."

Matt stayed to keep watch with his shotgun on the front porch while Bethany looked around inside the home. Ten minutes later, she walked out with an armload of winter coats.

"I've got a bunch more things piled up by the door there," she said, "if you'll help me load them up. I'm going to go pack up the rice and beans from the pantry, too."

Matt took the things to the truck, which was already packed nearly full. He stacked the new items up in the back seat.

They quickly returned to the truck, Bethany behind the wheel. Matt nervously looked around as they drove through the small town. They didn’t see the sedan, and they felt relieved to be leaving Juniper Pass.

20

Jessa had been gone for too long.

Nick, Charlie, Liz, and Mia sat around the kitchen table. They had just finished a lunch featuring the fresh food given to Nick by the families at Los Gatos. The fresh vegetables and oven bread had transported them all to a time not that long ago when they ate fresh food all the time.

They were lost in nostalgia for a few moments, then one by one their gazes fell upon the empty barstool where Jessa had usually sat.

“It’s so quiet in here without Jessa,” Mia said, breaking the silence.

“It’s too bad she missed all this great food,” Liz said.

Charlie nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she would’ve loved it.”

“She said she’d be gone for only two days,” Mia said. “Shouldn’t she be back by now?”

Silence hung in the air. Mia had finally spoken what was on all their minds.

“What if something happened to her? Maybe she got lost,” Mia said warily.

“Jessa worked in the wilderness for a living,” Nick said, leaning on his elbows with his hands clasped. “If she ever got lost, I doubt she’d stay that way for long.”

“But maybe she’s hurt. Or what if she ran into some bad people out there?” Mia said, her lips trembling. “Like those three guys who tried to come in here.”

“If anyone is stupid enough to try to mess with Jessa, they’ll figure out their mistake fast enough,” Charlie said with a half smile.

Nick didn’t respond. He knew Jessa was strong and capable, but she could only do so much. There were so many things that could go wrong – she could be outnumbered, taken by surprise – he had to stop his mind from wandering to all the dark possibilities.

“I’m worried about her too,” Liz said, straining to move her injured leg as she shifted in her seat. “She said she would be back by now.”

“Maybe she’s just not going to come back,” Charlie said. “Maybe she’s planning to stay in Colorado. Who knows? That may have been her plan all along.”

Liz frowned at him. “Jessa wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t just leave us all here. She didn’t even tell me goodbye.”

“It makes it easier to leave that way,” Charlie said bitterly.

“But she wouldn’t have made a copy of the map for us,” Mia said, remembering the map to Chris’s cabin the child had found in Jessa’s room. It had been laid out on the dresser in plain sight. “Not if she was planning to come back. She left us that map so we could go find her if we needed to.”

Nick dropped his hands to the table. He knew what was coming.

“Don’t you think we should go look for her?” Mia’s small voice asked quietly.

Everyone looked toward Nick, their faces expectant. “It’s too far. And too dangerous.”

“The danger is exactly why we need to go look for her,” Liz said. “We could get to Denver in a day. We could go find her!”

“Denver was a big city. There’s got to be a lot of survivors there, fighting for resources.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better about Jessa being alone out there,” Liz said.

Nick sighed. “I told Jessa not to go there. She’s so stubborn, she won’t listen to anybody. It was too dangerous for her to go alone, and it’s too dangerous for any of us to go as well. I won’t put the three of you at risk.”

He looked back at the others. Mia’s face was hard to take. Her eyes were brimming with tears.

Mia had been through so much in her short life, even before the Hosta virus when she lived in an abusive household with only her mother on her side. The little girl needed stability in her life. She had gotten attached to Jessa, just as she had gotten attached to all of them, clinging to her new caregivers in an uncertain, dangerous new world.

He stood up and carried his plate to the sink. “Let’s give her one more day.”

He glanced back at Mia to see her wipe the tears away. Hope appeared once more on her face.

After the cleanup, the four of them scattered to take an hour off before resuming their afternoon work. They were all reading some of the books he and Charlie had brought back, happy to lose themselves for a while in a fictional story.

Nick walked outside. The smell of smoke was strong in the air, he noticed absentmindedly.

He didn’t give it much thought, figuring the people in Los Gatos were clearing a field with a controlled burn. He knew the practice was fairly common in the area.

A familiar call sounded from across the meadow, and Nick looked up from his chair on the front porch.

He returned the call, setting down his book and walking to the edge of the porch. He watched as Daniel began to cross the meadow. Nick could tell in the way Daniel walked: Something was wrong.

Nick walked out to meet Daniel halfway.

“Hey, Daniel, what brings you this way?” Nick said, shaking Daniel’s hand.

“We’re evacuating. Everyone in Los Gatos. We have to leave, and you should too.”

“What? Why are you leaving?”

Daniel struggled to catch his breath. He had been running through the woods to get there quickly. “The fire. The giant forest fire, coming from south of here. It’s going to destroy all of this.”

Nick’s heart began to race. He turned around wildly, looking in all directions. “But how can that be? I don’t see anything. Even from the top of the hill, I didn’t see anything looking south.”

“But you will, and soon. The elders can read the signs. They always know when a fire is coming. I don’t know how they do it, but it’s something about the clouds. It’s the way the wind is blowing, faster then slower, all the time. The fire makes its own weather system.”

Nick looked at the leaves fluttering on a cottonwood tree nearby. “The wind isn’t even coming from the south right now. It’s blowing out of the northwest.”

“It’s going to change. The wind will start blowing in fast from the south, and everything is so dry right now that the forest will go up in flames like a tinderbox.”

Nick rubbed the back of his neck. “And here I was thinking you were just coming to visit.”

“I wish this was that kind of visit,” Daniel said. “But these old-timers are always right about these kinds of things. I’m afraid we’re going to lose our homes.”

“What about trying to fight it? We could dig ditches, gather up all our water for firefighting. If it’s coming from the south, it will hit you folks first. I could go down to Los Gatos and help you, and then maybe we could put it out for good.”

Daniel shook his head sadly. “We talked about firefighting. It just won’t be enough. We would need crews of men with chainsaws clearing trees for days, and more crews of guys digging trenches. The federal agencies, if they were still around, would send forest firefighters in from all over the country for something like this. We don’t have enough people to fight it, or enough tools.”

Nick looked away toward the dry woods surrounding them. Daniel continued.

“My great-grandfather has seen a lot of fires in his days, but he says this will be the worst yet. Now that the Forest Service and the Bureau of Land Management folks are all gone, there’s no one around to contain these things. It’s just going to rage out of control.”

Nick kicked at the dirt in frustration. He turned to look back at the lodge his grandfather had built. So much work, so much time and energy. It couldn’t all just go up in flames.

“I’m sorry to bring you such bad news, Nick. I know it’s a lot to take. My family is really upset. I can’t get my mom to stop crying…” He trailed off.

Nick turned back to look at Daniel. “So all of you are leaving?”

Daniel nodded. “Yes, as soon as possible. Everyone’s packing up now. The decision was just made this morning, and I came here as fast as I could to let you know.”

“I appreciate the warning, Daniel. Where will you go?”

“North, far enough away the fire won’t reach. Do you know White Pine Falls?”

Nick shook his head.

“That’s okay. I drew you a map.”

Daniel retrieved a folded piece of paper from his shirt pocket and handed it to Nick.

“It’s a place many of us in the village know. There’s a lot of good water there. It’s a good place to start over.”

Nick looked over the map quickly, then folded it again.

“Actually, I was sent here to invite you with us. You and your whole group. We can all go up to White Pine Falls and start a new life.”

“That’s very generous of you,” Nick said sincerely. “I really appreciate the offer.”

He looked around at the homestead. “It’s hard to think of losing all this. I was just starting to feel like life was getting on track around here.”

“Same here,” Daniel said. “We don’t want to leave Los Gatos, but there’s no choice.”

He looked at Nick. “Well, I better get back home. We have to pack up and take everything we can. What do you say, Nick? Are you coming with us?”

Nick ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Daniel. We can’t leave today. We have a member of our group away. Jessa’s still in Colorado, and she should be returning any day now. If we leave now, she won’t know where to find us.”

“Man, that’s a tough one. I understand you don’t want to leave her behind, but you also have to think of yourself and the others. But I know you’ll do the right thing. And now you know where to find us if you want to leave a little later.”

“Sure do.”

Daniel extended his hand, and Nick shook it. “I hope we meet again,” Daniel said.

“I do too, Daniel. Have a safe journey.”

Nick watched as Daniel jogged across the meadow and disappeared in the woods once more. Nick closed his eyes for a moment, and the memories he had made throughout his life on the property came flooding back to him. Learning how to hunt with his dad and grandfather, the family dinners shared around the kitchen table, and teaching his own son outdoor skills. He thought of all he had been through during the past two weeks with the people who had come to form a new sort of family for him.

He couldn’t let it all go.

He turned around and walked back to the house. Liz, Charlie, and Mia were all on the porch, watching him.

“Where did Daniel run off to?” Charlie asked. “That was a short visit.”

“He came to bring us some bad news.”

Nick looked at the three faces staring at him, full of worry and fear.

“Everyone in Los Gatos is leaving. They say a forest fire is coming.”

21

“Jemez Springs,” Bethany said, reading the sign on the side of the road as she drove. “Are we getting close?”

“Yeah, we’re getting closer,” Matt said. “I remember going through this town. It never looked like this before.”

“You mean totally deserted?” Bethany asked.

Matt nodded, looking out the window at what had become a ghost town. They followed the state highway as it traversed the tiny town and then began its ascent to higher elevations.

“You just stay on this road. We’ll climb up into the mountains, and the road will become gravel, I think.”

“And you’re sure you remember how to get there?”

Matt hesitated. “I think so…”

The truth was, Matt wasn’t sure at all. He knew there would be at least one or two turns until they arrived at the turn-off for the lodge. He was far from confident he would remember which way to turn. And worst of all, the path to the clearing where his family had always parked the vehicles was hidden.

“I think it’s a big rock. Or maybe some pine trees,” he mumbled to himself.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just trying to remember the landmark for the path to the lodge. It’s kind of hidden.”

Bethany snapped her head to look at him. “You mean, we can’t see the lodge from the road?”

Matt looked down. “No, we have to turn off the gravel road and drive through the woods to a clearing. Then, after we park, we have to walk in a little bit to get there.”

Bethany’s mouth was agape. “Wait, you didn’t tell me we’d have to hike in to get there. This is more complicated than I thought.”

Matt flashed her a weak smile. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, I promise. It’s just… Well, everything is dark right now. And I’m starting to worry I’ll take a wrong turn somewhere.”

Bethany groaned. “I was so looking forward to a nice, warm bed.”

“Me too. But I don’t want to get us lost in the woods. Maybe we better plan to sleep in the truck tonight. The sun will be up in a few hours, then we can look for the lodge by the light of day.”

“All right. It’s a good thing I got some warm clothes. Are you sure you can find the lodge after daybreak?” Bethany asked, taking her eyes from the road for a moment to look at him.

Matt smiled and nodded, trying to convince both Bethany and himself that he could.

In a few miles, they arrived at an intersection with another gravel road. Matt stepped out of the truck and looked around. But he didn’t recognize the area, especially not in the dark.

He was starting to realize that being a passenger was different from navigating. All the times he had been here before, his dad had done the driving, and he had just looked out the window without paying too much attention.

Those days, he realized with sudden clarity, were over.

Bethany rolled down the window and looked at him. “You don’t know where to go?”

He shook his head.

“All right. I’m going to park this thing under those trees over there. Tell me if I’m about to hit anything.”

She maneuvered the truck into a small clearing, partially hidden from the road. Then she opened the door and stepped gingerly out.

“I’ll sleep on the passenger side. More room for this big belly. And here,” she said, handing him one of the coats she had found in Juniper Pass. “You can use this as a pillow.”

Once they were settled in and as comfortable as they were going to get, Matt’s eyes became heavy. He was starting to nod off when a noise startled him. It sounded a bit like low, rumbling thunder in the distance. And it was getting louder.

He sat up in his seat and saw a light in the distance.

Headlights appeared on the road to their right. And after that vehicle, another one climbed the hill, bringing its own headlights into view. Then another vehicle, and another.

“What the hell?” Bethany muttered.

“I just hope they don’t see us,” Matt said. “Just keep on driving by. Don’t turn this way.”

The vehicles advanced, breaking the eternal silence with the crunch of wheels on gravel. Matt held his breath as they approached the intersection, his hands clenching into fists.

But the vehicles continued forward, making no sign of having seen their truck.

“Whew,” Matt breathed.

Bethany gasped. “Look!” She pointed down the road.

After the initial throng of vehicles, new ones kept coming. One after another. There were cars, small pickups, large trucks hauling trailers full of livestock. It was an endless stream of vehicles, and they watched with their mouths hanging open.

“I haven’t seen that many people in weeks!” Bethany muttered quietly, as if afraid they might hear her. “And out here in the middle of nowhere? It doesn’t make any sense. Where are they going?”

Matt shook his head in disbelief. “I have no idea.”

They watched as the convoy of vehicles filed past, throwing a trail of dust in their wake. Finally, the procession came to an end. A trailer hauling what appeared to be goats brought up the rear.

“That was a lot of cars, and even more people. And they were taking everything with them,” Bethany said.

“Yeah, did you see how they were loaded down? They were carrying a lot of cargo. And even animals.”

“It looked like they were moving away,” Bethany mused. “Like a whole town just picked up and decided to move away together. I never saw anything like that.”

Matt nodded. There seemed to be no end to the bizarre things he would witness in this new world.

They sat staring at the empty road for a while in silence. Outside, the wind began to pick up, blowing the tree branches around violently.

22

Nick and the others discussed what to do well into the night.

“How do they know it’s going to be a big forest fire?” Charlie asked. “I smell smoke, but that doesn’t mean we have to leave the lodge, does it? That smoke could be coming from a fire hundreds of miles away.”

Nick shrugged his shoulders. “Daniel said the wind was going to change, and then the fire would come fast. He said the old-timers could read the signs.”

“They can read the signs, but it doesn’t mean they’re always right,” Charlie said. “The fire could go around us. Especially if we stick around here to fight it.”

Nick shook his head. “We don’t have enough people to fight it. You and me with a chainsaw and a shovel aren’t nearly enough.”

“So, do you think we should leave like Daniel and everyone else?” Liz asked, looking up from her place on the couch. Her injured leg was propped up on a pillow after she had just changed the dressing on her wound. It was healing, but she still couldn’t walk very well.

Nick crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know. The folks from Los Gatos are leaving tonight, if they haven’t already gone.”

Liz sighed. “Just when we finally have an alliance with some good people, they leave. And on top of that, we might lose our home.”

Nick paced back and forth across the living room. He couldn’t stand the idea of losing the lodge.

“And what about Jessa?” came Mia’s worried little voice. “If we leave, how will she find us?”

No one responded for a moment. It was the elephant in the room.

Finally, Liz spoke. She couldn’t stand to see Mia so worried. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll figure something out. We’re not going to leave without Jessa. Right, Nick?”

Nick it looked up distractedly when he heard his name. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“We should all pack up a few things. The most important things,” Charlie said. “Just in case we do need to leave.”

Silence again. Nick knew it was the sensible thing to do. But he had resisted it. He knew that once he began to pack things to leave, it would make the whole thing seem real.

“But we can’t take everything with us. And where will we go if there’s a fire?” Mia asked.

Nick continued to pace, rubbing his jaw.

If they stayed in hopes that the fire would go around them, they risked being trapped in an inferno. If they left, how would they find Jessa?

He didn’t agree with Charlie’s cynical view – Nick knew that Jessa, as long as she was able, would return to New Mexico. She hadn’t given up on them, and he didn’t want to give up on her. There were endless possible explanations for her delay.

But even if Nick’s group went to Colorado to look for her at the cabin, the chances that she would still be there would be slim. What if their paths never crossed? The days of cell phone service and email were long gone. They had no way to find her if they didn’t see her at the cabin or spot her on the road.

And besides, taking the three of them, including a little girl and an injured woman, on a long road trip in such uncertain times could be dangerous.

There were no good options.

One thing was certain – they would find a way to survive. He wasn’t going to let them down.

“If we do have to leave, we’ll find another place to live. We’ll find more food, one way or another.”

They all looked up at him, the warm light from the oil lamps illuminating their tense faces.

“We won’t give up,” Nick said. “We’ll just have to find a way to carry on.”

“That’s right,” Liz said. “We made it this far.”

“Charlie’s right about packing up,” Nick said. “We each need to get ready to leave quickly if the fire comes. We can’t take everything, but we can fill the trucks up.”

“I’m not even sure I can drive with my leg yet,” Liz said.

“I’ll drive the Dodge truck if it comes to that,” Charlie said. “We’ll just leave my old car behind.”

Nick agreed. “So we’ll each pack a bag of the most important things, plus a few boxes of food and bottled water. Charlie and I will take it out to the vehicles tonight. Then I’ll take the first watch while the three of you try to get some rest. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring, and we need to be prepared for the worst.”

He watched as Liz murmured something quietly to Mia, who had tears brimming in her eyes.

“Maybe Jessa will come back in the night,” Nick said. “She may have had car trouble or something like that.”

Mia nodded and retreated with Liz to their room to begin packing. Charlie lumbered off to his own bedroom.

Walking heavily into the kitchen, Nick began to pack a few boxes of the most nutritious and calorically dense food they had. He gathered up their guns and ammo. Finally, he went into his room to pack a few personal belongings.

After he and Charlie had hauled what they could out to the trucks, Nick sat with his rifle at the guard station. Tonight, he was less worried about ill-intentioned invaders than he was about Mother Nature. In the chilly, quiet night a blazing forest fire seemed unlikely, but he knew how unpredictable wildland fires could be. Still, he prayed that Daniel would be wrong. Maybe the village elders were being overly cautious.

They had already lost so much – how could they lose their home too?

At the first sign of trouble, they would evacuate, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Maybe the wind would change to blow the fire in an unexpected course, and they would be safe. And if it they were lucky, Jessa would return in the night – safe and sound and with a good story explaining why she had been delayed.

23

In all the rush and commotion of the previous hours, Nick had completely forgotten about making his usual cup of instant coffee before taking his post. He tried to fight back sleep, but his eyes were heavy. The monotony of the night pulled him into slumber.

The howling of the relentless wind in the trees around him woke him up at some point later. He suddenly became aware of the noise. And immediately after that, he was aware of the smell. The smoke in the air had become much stronger than just a few hours ago, and his lungs filled with the acrid, charred fumes.

Jumping to his feet, he quickly climbed up on the chair to get a better view of the valley to the south.

He gasped, nearly falling out of the chair.

The horizon glowed neon orange as the fire erupted across the ridge. Giant clouds of smoke raged upward into the night sky, billowing violently from the force of the inferno below. The fire was racing up the dry hills from the valley below, consuming everything in its path. The wind blew north, pulling the smoke toward the lodge.

How could it have spread so fast? He’d never heard of a forest fire moving this quickly.

He realized that the loud noise he had heard was not just the wind. The racing fire was roaring like a freight train.

He looked to the west and saw smaller, isolated fires that had apparently only recently begun, perhaps starting from an ember that had blown in from the central mass to the south. His hands went clammy.

The only way out was starting to go up in flames.

“Fire!” he bellowed to the three inside.

He raced to the front door, flinging it open. He yelled for them to wake up, pounding on their bedroom doors. He charged into the girls’ bedroom first to find them both sitting up in bed, groggy and rubbing their eyes.

“Go, run to the cars!” he said. “We’ll be right behind you!”

Liz came to her feet and grabbed her backpack.

“Leave it,” Nick said, taking it. “I’ll carry it.”

He paused a second to see Liz limp out the door, moving as quickly as she could, with Mia on her heels.

Charlie emerged, dressed and ready to go. With the two rifles that still remained in the house slung over each of their backs, Nick and Charlie ran outside. They caught up to Liz and Mia as they crossed the meadow and entered the woods to the west. Liz grimaced as she ran, the pain from her leg not allowing her to go faster.

When they entered the forest, the heat was scorching. They ducked their heads down low as they ran, trying to dodge the suffocating smoke. There were isolated fires burning all around and picking up speed as the wind blew. To the left, a fifteen-foot wall of flames raced down the hill. Mia screamed when she saw it.

They weren’t moving fast enough, and soon the flames would engulf them.

“We’ll have to carry you,” Nick said to Liz. He picked her up from under her shoulders with Charlie carrying her legs. “Mia, I want you to stay right beside me, okay?”

The little girl nodded, terrified.

They ran through the woods with the smoke stinging their eyes. To dodge the smaller outbreaks, they had to weave their way around flaming trees. They ran through swirling embers and sparks as the larger columns of fire from the south threatened to engulf the entire hill in moments. They advanced quickly. Fueled by adrenaline, they pushed onward through the nightmarish landscape.

Mia’s cry from behind them made them pause. Nick turned around to see the little girl trip on a rock and fall on the ground. She pushed herself back to her feet, but froze. She was paralyzed with fear as flames began to erupt in the brush around her. She stared at Nick, her eyes round as saucers. Then, she looked over head to see a burning pine bough fall to the ground with a crash. There were flames all around her.

Setting Liz back on her feet, Nick motioned with his hand. “You go ahead! Run as fast as you can.”

She turned and ran off through the woods toward the vehicles parked ahead.

“It’s okay, Mia, we’ll get you out of there!” Nick shouted as he took off his jacket and began to beat out the fire that was catching around Mia.

Charlie did the same until the flames had died down a bit. Nick grabbed the little girl and carried her in his arms, jumping over the new flames beginning to erupt in the dry brush and limbs all around them.

The three of them arrived at the clearing with the vehicles just behind Liz. Flames were creeping in from all around. They ducked into two trucks – Charlie and Liz in one, and Nick and Mia in the other.

Nick led the way in his truck down the narrow path. The flames licked up the trees on both sides, with flaming branches starting to fall around them. Charlie followed close on his tail, turning onto the main road right behind him, the truck tires slipping as he took the turn too fast.

In a matter of minutes the forest was nearly completely engulfed. The fire raced up the hill behind them as they sped onto the gravel road, trying to outrun the wall of flames behind them. The woods burned on either side of the road.

A loud explosion behind them – probably the propane tank at the lodge, or perhaps the fuel tank of Charlie’s car they had left behind, Nick thought – made Mia cry out. Nick turned to see her sobbing, but quickly flashed his eyes back to the road.

Calming everyone down could wait. He had to concentrate on getting them out alive.

24

Matt felt himself being shaken, and he looked up at Bethany’s terrified eyes. It was still dark out, but her face was lit up by some unknown source, and he saw the panic written across it.

“Look!” she exclaimed, pointing to the horizon on the right.

He blinked, not understanding it at first. Huge, gray clouds billowed up to the heavens, powered by raging, neon orange flames underneath. The ridge line to the south was burning. The swirling wind blew the fire across the valley, and the flames were spreading toward them in angry, pulsating waves.

It took him a second to realize he was staring at a massive forest fire. The hills to the northeast were also catching fire, making the road to the left impassable. The only way out was behind them – he’d have to turn the truck around.

He fumbled in his pocket for his keys, cursing himself for not leaving them in the ignition. He pulled them free of his pocket, and then in his haste, his clumsy fingers dropped them in the crack between the seat and the middle console.

“Hurry, Matt!” Bethany said. “We have to get out of here!”

The crack was just small enough to prevent Matt’s hand from grasping the keys. He opened the door, jumping out to get a better view under the seat. Plucking them from the floorboard, he stood up, then paused, distracted by a foreign sound.

He glanced up to see two trucks flying down the road, then slowing down only a bit to turn wildly onto the road where Matt and Bethany had parked, their headlights shining in Matt’s face. The tires of the first truck skidded as it came to an abrupt stop, and the second truck only narrowly avoided crashing into it.

“Matt? Is that you?” a familiar voice asked breathlessly.

The boy found himself staring at his uncle, though once again, it took him a moment to comprehend that fact.

“Uncle Nick?” He couldn’t help but smile to see the familiar face, momentarily forgetting the fire raging down the hill.

Nick’s face opened into a quick smile as recognition sunk in. Then his eyes flashed to the raging fire behind them. He motioned for Matt to turn the truck around.

“Follow me!” he called, moving the truck forward to give Matt room to turn around.

“I think I should drive,” Bethany said frantically as she watched the flames in the distance. Her hand moved toward the door handle, ready to jump out.

“No! I can do it,” Matt said, narrowing his eyes as he concentrated.

As if guided by a divine hand in his time of need, Matt was relieved to find he could maneuver the truck around in a U-turn and straighten out quickly. He got into line behind Nick and followed him down the gravel road. Nick was driving fast, and Matt clenched the steering well tightly, struggling not to lose control of the truck.

Up ahead, the valley narrowed, and the road curved to the left. The road turned toward the direction of the burning ridge line to the south. Nick picked up even more speed, trying to outrun the encroaching fire.

Bethany shrieked as they drove through flaming embers and thick smoke. The horizon line glowed orange-red. It felt like they were driving into hell.

“We’ll never make it off this mountain!” Bethany cried. “Look at that wall of flames!”

Matt squinted through the smoke. It was getting harder to see – and breathe. He wiped the sweat rolling down his forehead from his eyes and tried his hardest to keep up with his uncle.

They followed the curve in the road as they drove through burning forest on both sides – a tunnel of flames. Smoke filled their lungs and stung their eyes, but Matt pushed on.

Nick swerved as a tree fell into the road, narrowly dodging it and driving over some branches. Matt yelped as they rode over the tree branches, but he didn’t lose control of the truck.

Bethany turned around to see the headlights of the other truck close behind as it dodged the burning tree in the road.

“Just keep going, Matt,” she said to encourage him. “Don’t lose him.”

They drove on, pushing the trucks to fly down the mountain road through the intense wind and fires raging around them. Matt was drenched in sweat from the fire’s heat and his own adrenaline. He dared not take his eyes off the road for a second, needing his full concentration to steer the truck down the road and keep up with his uncle.

He heard Bethany coughing, and his own lungs yearned for fresh air.

25

Finally, the road curved back around to the right as it made its final descent from the mountain. There were fewer flames and less smoke the farther they drove, and ahead he could see the untouched valley where the fire had not yet reached.

“Are you okay?” he asked Bethany.

“Yeah,” she exhaled. “I think we’re past the worst of it, thank goodness!”

Matt’s eyes flashed up to the rear-view mirror. The mountainside behind him was igniting in flame and spreading quickly.

“I didn’t know fire could travel that fast,” he said, out of breath. “It’s just racing down that mountain.”

Bethany turned around in her seat to watch the flames behind them. The fire was going fast, but they were driving faster, and each mile put more distance between them and the hell they had escaped.

Bethany breathed a sigh of relief and turned around to face the front.

“I guess we made it,” Matt said.

“And to think you could barely drive at all when I met you,” Bethany said, flashing him a smile. “I guess that’s what they call trial by fire. Literally.”

Matt laughed at her corny joke. “I’m just glad we made it out alive.”

“And your uncle is here too! You must be thrilled.”

Matt had barely had time to process that fact, but he was excited to see a family member. Taking the risk to drive to New Mexico had been worth it. Especially now that they weren’t going to burn to a crisp in a wildland fire.

Once they made it to Jemez Springs, they were out of the path of the fire. Matt and Bethany rolled their windows down to fill their lungs with air, now that they were out of the thick smoke.

Nick’s Silverado came to a stop in the center of the empty town. He got out of the truck, followed by a young girl. Matt and Bethany, and the two in the truck behind them, did the same.

“Uncle Nick!” Matt called, running over in the dark street toward him. He gave his uncle a hug, overjoyed to see a familiar face.

“Matt, I have no idea how you made it here. But it’s sure good to see you.” Nick laughed, then looked at his nephew’s face.

“What about your parents? Your sister?”

Matt looked down. “They’re all gone. Ashley was the first to go, then Dad. Mom held out the longest.”

Nick nodded his head in quiet understanding.

“And what about Owen? And Aunt Kaitlyn?”

Nick’s face fell and he gave a slight nod. It was enough for Matt to understand as well.

They all turned around to look at the flames racing down the glowing mountain they had just evacuated. The fire was spreading fast, but they had escaped the danger. The distance in between them and the flames was big enough to give them a chance to rest and decide their next steps. The six of them watched silently for a moment, each struggling with their own mix of emotions – shock, horror, loss, and amazement.

“I’ve never seen anything like that in my life,” said the young man who had followed Matt.

“And I hope to never see it again,” Nick said.

Nick looked down at the boy beside him. He had lost his home, but he had just gained something more important.

“Everyone, meet my nephew, Matthew Redmond.”

Introductions were made all around, quickly and without fanfare. No one could really take their eyes off the blazing mountain for very long.

“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” Nick said as he shook Bethany’s hand after hearing how she had met his nephew. “I’m sorry you had to go through that hell in your condition. Are you feeling all right?”

Bethany smiled and nodded. “I’m a little shaken up, but I’m all right. Your nephew turned out to be a good little driver. I had my doubts at first, though.”

“Sometime later you’ll have to tell me how the two of you drove out here all the way from Texas, Matt,” Nick said. “But for now, we need to decide where to go.”

“So where do we go now?” Liz asked. “Everything up there is gone.”

They were all silent, except for Mia’s quiet whimpering. Liz pulled her in close, trying to comfort the child.

“We have an invitation to go to White Pine Falls,” Nick said to Bethany and Matt. “It’s north of here. Some neighbors of ours warned us of this fire. They got out hours before we did, and they said they were headed there to build everything from the ground up again.”

Bethany’s eyes went wide. “That must have been who we saw leaving last night. It was a long line of cars, trucks and trailers. The most people I’ve seen since the virus killed everybody.”

Matt nodded. “It looked like they had a bunch of people and animals, and they took everything with them.”

Nick smiled. “Yeah, those are the good folks from Los Gatos. They were smart and got out before it got bad. So, we could go out to White Pine Falls. Building a new homestead from the ground up is easier with more hands and more tools. But…”

“But what?” Matt asked.

Nick watched the fire consuming the dry forest in the mountains in the distance. “I don’t know how I feel about going there almost empty-handed. The Los Gatos folks prepared and got out early. I was foolish and didn't get out in time to save many supplies."

"It wasn't foolishness, Nick," Liz interjected. "We were waiting for Jessa to show up. We couldn't leave early and risk missing her. And besides, we saved everything we could."

"Yeah," Nick continued. "But it doesn't feel right to show up with six new mouths to feed when they are rebuilding their village."

Charlie stared at him. "You saved Daniel's life. And they invited us there. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if we go with a couple of new people."

"I know, but I just wish we had more to offer. And anyway, there’s still the issue of Jessa. This whole area will be burning for days. What if she comes back to all this? What if she gets trapped in a burning area?”

“I’m lost. Who’s Jessa?” Bethany asked.

Nick explained the situation to the newcomers.

“And if we go to White Pine Falls, how will Jessa find us?” Mia asked.

“She won’t,” Liz said. “It’s not like we can just leave her a note. Everything’s on fire.”

“Jessa got herself into this mess,” Charlie said. “We can’t turn down a perfectly good invitation to start over. Those people can help us. A lot. Why would we throw that away to go on a wild goose chase?”

Liz stared at Charlie with her mouth open. “Charlie, what happened to you? It’s so unlike you to just turn your back on her like this.”

Charlie crossed his arms and leaned against the truck. “Things have changed. I saw that when those guys tried to kill us. We have to look out for ourselves. It’s a new world, and the rules have changed. Staying alive is my priority.”

Nick was surprised that Charlie would choose to give up on Jessa. But he could understand Charlie’s change of heart. The invasion had changed him too. It had changed all of them. They had woken from their naïve slumber. Still though, Nick couldn’t turn his back on Jessa.

“I understand where you’re coming from, Charlie. But I believe that Jessa will return to New Mexico. The fact that she hasn’t come back yet makes me think she could be in some kind of trouble. And my conscience won’t let me leave her to blow in the wind.”

“So we’re going to go look for Jessa?” Mia asked hopefully, sniffling.

Nick rubbed his jaw, watching the flames consume the mountainside. “I’m going to look for her. The rest of you are going to White Pine Falls.”

Nick was met with a chorus of protests.

“If you’re going to Colorado, I want to go too,” Matt said to Nick.

“We’re not going to let you go by yourself, Nick!” Liz said.

Charlie took his eyes off the burning mountain range in the distance to turn to Nick. “If you insist on going to Colorado, I’m going with you. There’s no way you’re going up there alone. After everything you’ve done for us, we can’t let you face whatever is going on up there by yourself.”

Liz and Mia nodded in agreement.

“I think we should all stick together,” Bethany said. “It’s too easy to be separated, and how would we find each other again? Messenger pigeon?” She smiled, her ringlets bouncing.

Nick looked at the ragtag group that included a heavily pregnant woman, an injured woman, a child, a young teenager, and two men. If they all wanted to come with him, he didn’t want to leave them behind. But if they ran into trouble, he didn’t want to put the more vulnerable members of the group in danger.

He shook his head. “I’ll take Charlie along, but the rest of you need to stay with Daniel’s family. It’s safer that way.”

Liz scoffed. “We all know the biggest danger is running into people with guns. My injured calf muscle won’t matter if I need to shoot somebody from the seat of that truck. We have enough guns for everyone to be armed, and that’s better than just the two of you going up there.”

Matt piped up. “I’ve got my shotgun, and Bethany found a rifle in Juniper Pass.”

Bethany smiled and nodded. “I just need to learn how to shoot it, is all.”

Nick cringed, then looked at her. “I don’t like the idea of you going, Bethany. It’s not safe.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m healthy as a horse, and I’m tougher than I look. I spent so much time sitting on my butt in Abilene all alone. I could use a little excitement.”

Nick turned his face away. Bethany didn’t seem to realize how dangerous this mission could be.

"And besides, I don't want to be alone anymore. It's stressful. I've gotten used to this guy here," she said, tousling Matt's hair. "I'd rather be around someone familiar. These days, familiar faces are few and far between."

“But do you think you can handle the trip?” Charlie asked. “It will be a lot of long hours in the truck.”

“As long as I’m not driving all of those hours.”

“Maybe we should leave a vehicle behind,” Liz said. “Out of the path of the fire. So that Matt and Bethany don’t have to drive. I mean, I can drive a little, but not the whole way.”

“Oh, I don’t mind driving,” Matt said. “Actually, I really kind of like it now.”

“Colorado sounds like an adventure!” Bethany said excitedly. “I always wanted to travel. I almost never left Abilene, and here I am going to two new states.”

Nick looked at everyone as they chattered. He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. Once again, he was faced with a decision without good options. Making the trip with several people who could shoot a gun did increase their overall safety. But how could he let a pregnant woman and a child go along on a potentially dangerous trip? Would he be able to protect them all?

On the other hand, he hated the idea of splitting up the group and leaving some people behind to wait. There were too many things that could go wrong with that plan. The huge forest fire consuming the hills and mountains to their south could spread as far as White Pine Falls. If that were to happen, everyone would be forced to evacuate once again, including anyone he left behind from his group. And there would be no way to find them.

Traveling into Colorado would put the whole group at risk only to save Jessa. Maybe Charlie was right – Jessa’s choice to leave had made everything more difficult. But how could he throw her under the bus?

Nick couldn’t give up on her. His conscience wouldn’t allow him to leave her alone in Colorado when she might need help. And he couldn’t let her return to find the lodge burned to the ground and the only people she had left in the world vanished.

Jessa had done what she thought was best. Nick knew her motivation partially came from her desire to find Chris, but she also had the group’s best interests in mind when she set off across the Southwest looking for him. She had wanted to bring another capable person into their ranks.

She had been trying to help; she couldn’t have known a forest fire would change everything. His gut told him that Jessa was still alive. If he didn’t go looking for her, he would never see her again. If the tables had been turned, he knew Jessa would be looking for any one of them.

Mia caught his eye, and she looked at him hopefully, waiting for his answer.

“Fine,” he said. “We’ll go together to look for her. I don’t want to leave a truck full of supplies behind – that’s just asking to lose them. And we might find some more supplies along the way we want to take with us. We’ll take a three-vehicle convoy.”

“I think that’s best,” Charlie said. “We’ll follow your lead.”

The others nodded, steeling themselves for the long journey ahead.

Nick took one last look at the raging fire approaching from the hills. They would need to leave soon.

“Charlie, is there anything you want to grab from your house before we leave?”

Charlie shook his head. “There’s nothing left that I want to take. But I would like to have one last look at it before this fire gets down here and burns my hometown up.”

They followed Charlie to Cottonwood Drive, where his family home stood – a modest, wooden, single-story home with an inviting porch out front.

Charlie looked at the home where he had lived for his entire life with his family, and where that family was buried in the backyard. He looked at the tire swing where he had pushed each of his little sisters at one time or another, his father’s truck parts, and his mother’s dried-up garden patch. He bowed his head, then turned away.

“Okay. Let’s go find Jessa.”

26

Jessa dreamed of water.

She woke with her mouth parched.

She and Trina shared another can of peaches and set off on the road as the sun’s first light was approaching the horizon. The only food and water they had fit in one small backpack, which Jessa slung over her shoulders. The Bushmaster hung in front from its sling, and the Glock was secure in its holster. Trina carried the fuel can and hoses.

They walked on the shoulder of the winding two-lane highway, taking in the sweeping mountain views and quaking aspens turning bright orange in the cooler September days. Today though, sightseeing had to take a backseat to surveillance. Every so often, one of them would stop, thinking they heard an approaching vehicle. But so far, they were completely alone on the deserted highway.

“So the plan is to run for cover as soon as we hear a car?” Trina asked.

Jessa nodded. “Right. So we’ve got to make sure we hear any approaching vehicles before they come into sight.”

“Hearing them won’t be a problem,” Trina said, looking at the hilly road before them. “This highway has so many ups and downs you’d hear a vehicle way before you see it.”

She paused to catch her breath as they climbed a steep slope. The elevation was higher than Denver, and the air was thin.

“The problem,” Trina continued, “is that there’s not always a place to take cover. Like right here.”

Jessa looked around warily. She knew Trina was right, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. To their left, the land dropped off a cliff, and to the right, the road curved around a steep mountainside. There were many stretches like this with nowhere to hide. If a vehicle caught them on a curve like this, they would be spotted.

“I know,” she sighed. “That’s why we have to move fast on curves like this. We can go more slowly in areas with places to hide. But we have to make it through this kind of terrain as quickly as possible.”

Trina nodded, pushing her body to climb the steep road faster.

They continued onward in silence, pushing themselves up and down the mountain road. The sun rose high in the sky, and they tried to ignore their growing thirst. When they arrived at the occasional stand of trees, they stopped to rest out of sight of the road. They took small sips from the water bottle, careful to keep strict rations.

During their second break of the day, they nibbled on snack food as they lounged in the shade of some pinyon pine trees to the side of the road.

“It’s too bad most of this food is dried,” Trina said, holding a handful of raisins. “It just makes you thirstier. But I’m so hungry –”

She stopped short when Jessa held a finger to her lips. They looked at each other, their eyes wide. A car was approaching.

With her heart pounding, Jessa gathered the brightly-colored food packages and shoved them into the backpack, nestling it among some weeds. She and Trina each positioned themselves behind a tree as the sound grew louder.

Wiping the sweat from the palm of her hand, she drew her Glock from its holster with her trembling hand. She pressed the back of her head against the rough bark of the pine, pinning herself to the tree trunk as the car cleared the hill and approached them.

Jessa’s stomach clenched as she heard the car slowing down. Trying to be as still as possible, she held her breath. The car decelerated as it hugged the tight curve.

Please don’t stop, please don’t stop.

The car’s engine revved as it accelerated, following the bend in the road and continuing onward. Jessa exhaled as the sound decreased in volume, the silence returning to their little wooded area. The driver hadn’t spotted them.

Trina looked over at Jessa, her shoulders dropping as the tension subsided. “I thought we were goners for sure,” Trina whispered, too afraid to risk being heard even though the car was long gone.

“Yeah, when they slowed down for the curve, I just knew they saw us.” Jessa’s voice was still shaky.

They stayed frozen in place for several minutes, making sure the car didn’t return. Finally, they returned to the road. This time, they were even more quiet than before, constantly on edge for any engine noises.

An hour later, they spotted a house. Trina yelped and pointed it out as they came over a hill, and they both broke out into a run. As they got closer, they saw what looked to be a small settlement. A handful of houses were spaced out along a side road a short distance from the highway.

Trina let out a whoop of joy and headed for the first house.

“Wait!” Jessa said. “We have to be careful. There might be people here. Let me go first and make sure it’s clear.”

Trina waited as Jessa tried the door. It was locked, but she could force a window open. The stench of the dead greeted her, making it clear that no one was living inside. She wrapped a bandana around her head, covering her nose and mouth, then climbed in through the window. Trina wrapped a scarf around her face, then stepped in through the front door once Jessa had unlocked it.

There was no drinking water to be found, but they grabbed a box of sodas and a stash of candy bars and chips before escaping the horrid smell once again. Outside, they each guzzled a soda and packed the rest of the cans and junk food in their bags.

They turned down another side street, where several houses lined the road. Jessa headed toward a late-model Suburban. Trina followed her, watching anxiously.

The Suburban's doors were locked, and Jessa turned to the sprawling home it was parked in front of. She again broke into a house that was filled with an overpowering smell. This time, the pantry was loaded with canned food and bottles of water. They each downed a bottle of water.

“Damn, that’s good,” Trina proclaimed as she set her empty bottle on the counter and looked through the cupboards. “And look, there’s even alkaline and vitamin water back here. We’ll be all kinds of hydrated.”

Her face lit up as she looked at Jessa. “Something tells me I might find some clothes that will work for me here.” She wrapped her scarf around her nose once more and ran up the stairs two at a time.

While Trina was busy upstairs, Jessa packed a couple bags full of food and expensive bottled water. By the time Trina showed up lugging a suitcase full of athletic clothes that looked remarkably similar to the ones she had on, Jessa had moved on to searching for the car keys.

“Found them!” Jessa called, jangling a set of keys she retrieved from a designer purse in the corner. They filed back outside with their scavenged goods and Jessa unlocked the vehicle.

“Are you feeling lucky?” Jessa asked as she climbed inside.

“We didn’t get spotted by the car, I found a closet that belonged to a woman with my size and taste in clothes, and now you’ve got keys to this thing. I’d say luck is on our side today,” Trina said with a grin.

The sound of the engine roaring to life was like music to their ears. Trina did a victory dance, making Jessa laugh, then climbed in on the passenger side before Jessa sped off, covering the miles they had just walked.

Soon, they were back at the Forest Service truck. Jessa drained the fuel from the suburban and added it to her truck’s fuel tank, bringing the fuel gauge up to the halfway mark.

After the Forest Service truck was once again operational, they set back out on the road in high spirits. Now that they were no longer traveling by foot, the miles flew by. In less than twenty minutes, they had passed the small settlement that had taken them so long to reach by foot. They continued through the valley, leaving the grouping of houses behind.

“I think it’s just over the next mountain pass,” she said. “We’ll be there soon.”

“And you never would’ve made it without your trusty copilot,” Trina said, smiling.

“Do you know how close we came to dying out there?” Jessa asked, looking at Trina sideways.

“Oh, come on. We wouldn’t have died.” Trina made a face to emphasize the last word, sticking her tongue out like a corpse in a bad movie.

Jessa rolled her eyes, but laughed anyway. Trina was right – luck was on their side today. She drove anxiously, impatient to arrive at the cabin and reunite with her best friend.

“This is it,” Jessa whispered, her eyes moving between the map and the cabin they were approaching. Chris’s directions had led them up a dirt road that climbed the mountain to a remote location. “He wasn’t kidding when he said he came here to get away from it all.”

“It’s beautiful, though.” Trina looked around at the majestic expanse of blue-green mountains and the line of receding puffy white clouds in the sky.

She drove down the long driveway and parked next to Chris’s black truck. The house was a small log cabin with a wide porch, hidden from the dirt road by the surrounding trees. Behind the cabin were several outbuildings, where Jessa imagined he kept a workshop and stored supplies.

She was grinning and moving fast, her fingers not able to undo the seatbelt quickly enough. She jumped out of the truck, not bothering to close the door, and ran to the front porch.

“Chris! It’s me, it’s Jessa!”

She yanked the screen door open and turned the doorknob on the heavy wooden door. It budged a little, but was stuck in the frame and stubbornly refused to open all the way. Calling for Chris the whole time, Jessa slammed her shoulder into the door, forcing it open with her body weight. Finally, it gave way, and she stumbled inside breathlessly.

Her heart pounded as she paused for a moment to glance around the room. She instantly recognized Chris’s flannel jacket and a wood carving project that looked like his work.

“Chris?”

This time, it was no longer a joyous cry. It was a plea.

Her footsteps were heavy on the wooden floorboards as they carried her to the bedroom. The door was closed. She whispered his name one more time, then pushed it open.

He was on the bed. His body lay shriveled and twisted, long since passed on.

She was sobbing, or maybe screaming. She was on the floor, and then suddenly Trina was there. Trina was saying something to her, but Jessa couldn’t hear. She felt hands pulling on her shoulders, urging her to get up, and she finally yielded to their pull.

Then she was outside, back in the bright sunlight. Trina was still saying something to her, but Jessa just couldn’t focus on the words.

He was gone, and she was lost.

27

Nick had led the convoy to lower country as they traveled along the northern New Mexico highways. They arrived at Espanola and could only see the glow of the forest fire in the distance to the west. He had chosen the northern, more mountainous, route to Interstate 25 to save time. It was still dark out – his watch showed the time to be 2:30 a.m.

Matt, driving his father's Ford truck behind Nick, flashed his lights, and Nick pulled over to the side as Matt drove up beside him.

Bethany rolled her window down and called out to him. "My back's killing me. Can we find a house to rest in for a few hours before we continue? Preferably a house with a bed not taken up by a dead body."

Nick scanned the horizon. He fought back regret over bringing the rest of them with him. Sure, they would slow him down, but maybe it was for the best. Even he could use some rest before facing what awaited him in Denver. After all, his only sleep had been a few fleeting moments while on the night watch.

They turned into a residential neighborhood in the small town. Nick and Charlie tried three houses before they came across one that was free of rotting corpses. Bethany, Liz, and Mia sleepily piled into the king-sized bed in the master bedroom, Charlie took the second bedroom, and Matt and Nick each claimed a sofa in the living room.

Still wide awake and alert from the excitement of the night, Matt told Nick everything – how his family had died, the horrible loneliness of the empty house, the deserted city except for a mountain lion that almost had him for lunch. He told of the close encounter he had with the drug addicts in Texas, and how he had come across Bethany in Abilene.

Nick listened closely to his nephew's tale. It seemed Matt had done a lot of growing up in just two weeks. He knew it had been difficult to set out on the journey alone for the boy, but Nick was impressed with how well he had done. He was happy to have Matt along on the journey, and he counted him as an invaluable asset.

Most of all, Nick was glad to see a familiar face. He saw his own brother in the boy's features. Though his brother and his nephew had different personalities, Nick saw a part of Tim living on in Matt. It gave him comfort.

Matt finally grew tired and drifted off to sleep. Nick turned over on his plush sofa.

His thoughts turned to the lodge, which was no doubt burned to ashes by now. The house his grandfather had built held so many memories from the past for him. The summers spent at that lodge with his family had shaped him, made him who he was. And he had brought his own family there to create new memories. It had represented everything he hoped for in the future. The place had always felt like home to him, had given him hope.

Now it was gone, wiped off the face of the earth.

He would have to find hope somewhere else, he thought to himself as he became drowsy.

Sunlight streaming through the cracks in the mini blinds woke Nick. He stood up stiffly and walked to the window. The three trucks were just as they had left them the night before, and the town outside was quiet and still.

No one else was awake, so he walked to the kitchen and poked around for some food. His appetite returned as he spotted some peanut butter and crackers, and he tore into them.

As he ate, he looked at some family photographs on the refrigerator. A teenage boy and his parents smiled in the pictures, frozen in time. He wondered where the family had died. Had they been on vacation when the virus hit? Had they fled to the mountains when people started getting sick?

Tacked up on a bulletin board were grocery lists, notes home from school, a wedding invitation from someone who was probably long dead. Nick swallowed his food and looked away.

So many had been lost, and a way of life had gone with them. The virus had claimed almost everyone, sparing such a small percentage. Why had it happened this way? Why had he been among those to survive?

The endless questions haunted him. He pushed them away – there were no answers to those questions.

A shuffling noise behind him got his attention. He turned around to see Liz hobbling in the kitchen.

“I wanted to say thank you for getting me out of the woods last night. I wouldn’t have been able to get out in time on my own,” she said, looking down at her leg. “That’s twice you saved me.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, rummaging through the kitchen.

Liz stared at him. “I’m sorry about the lodge. I know it meant a lot to you.”

Nick glanced at her. “It did. And I wish we could have carried more supplies with us. But I’m glad we got out of there alive.”

“You and me both. That fire was terrifying.”

An image of the wall of flames advancing on them as they ran through the forest flashed in his mind. The terrified look on Mia’s face as a burning limb fell in front of her, the suffocating smoke and heat. The memories were seared in his mind forever.

He turned back to look at Liz, who was also lost in thought, remembering the horrors of the night before. “Hey, how do scrambled eggs sound for breakfast?”

Liz’s eyes went round. “You found eggs here? Are they still good?”

Nick nodded. “It looks like this family kept their eggs outside the refrigerator. You can do that with unwashed farm eggs. They still have the protective cuticle to keep the bacteria out for at least a couple of weeks.”

“Which is the only kind of eggs any of us will probably ever eat again,” Liz added. She looked at the gas stove. “And the stove still works?”

“Sure does. And there’s some biscuit mix too. Ever make skillet biscuits?”

Liz grinned. “No, but I'm about to learn. I’ll get started on the biscuits. I’m sure the smell will wake everyone up.”

Liz’s prediction came true, and soon everyone was up and enjoying breakfast around the kitchen table.

After breakfast, Nick and Matt refueled the vehicles with gas scavenged from abandoned cars in the neighborhood while the others packed up the food they found in the pantry. They returned to the vehicles, well fed and recharged.

They had three trucks full of supplies. Nick wished it were more – he knew how fast the food and water would disappear with several people consuming them. And he cringed thinking of all the tools they’d had to leave behind. All the work put into the garden, the dangers they’d faced just to get topsoil, the firewood they had sawed and split. All of it was gone. Worry was pressing down on him, but he tried to shrug it off for the time being.

One thing at a time.

Now, they had to bring Jessa back, wherever she was.

With no traffic on the roads, they made it to Interstate 25 in good time. Liz’s leg was doing better today, and she took turns driving with Matt and Bethany. Nick kept his eyes peeled for Jessa’s light green truck blazing down the highway, but he saw no other traffic.

Just south of Colorado Springs, they found another empty home to rest, eat, and refuel. Bethany took a short nap in the bedroom, then waddled back outside where the others waited.

“Good as new!” she proclaimed as she stepped out onto the front porch with one hand on her round belly, her ringlets bouncing as she walked. She frowned to see the patio table covered in guns and boxes of ammo. “What’s going on out here?”

“Just cleaning our weapons,” Nick said.

“That’s quite an arsenal,” she said.

“Yeah, well, we need it these days,” he replied, picking up the revolver Mia’s father had owned. “And you need to learn to shoot this. Just in case. If you’re OK with carrying this revolver, I think the rifle might be better for Liz to handle.”

Bethany nodded. “That’s fine with me. But why? We’re not going to get into any firefights, are we?”

“I’m not expecting any, but you can never be too sure,” Nick said, grabbing some goggles and ear protection that he had fortunately remembered to pack the night before. “If anything happens, you just duck and hide. But you need to have a handgun in case you need to protect yourself at close range.”

He took Bethany through a pared-down gun training mini-session in the back yard. Nick didn’t intend on Bethany having to use a gun, but he figured she should be able to protect herself if it came to that. She fired just two shots – they didn’t want to waste bullets. Nick surmised she would need some practice to improve her accuracy, but it was better than nothing.

Liz tried out the rifle scavenged from Juniper Pass. She had already become competent with Nick’s rifles, and this one was similar to the AR-15 she had shot before, so it wasn’t much of a learning curve for her. After firing a few practice rounds across the yard and proving she was accurate and reliable with the new firearm, they were ready to go.

They loaded up all the guns and ammo and got back on the road, headed north through the beautiful foothills of the Rocky Mountains.

They were just a half hour from the southern suburbs of Denver by early afternoon. Nick found himself relieved to have had a relatively easy trip since leaving Jemez Springs. So far, everything had gone off without a hitch.

Now they just had to loop around the city and head west to Chris’s cabin, where he hoped to find Jessa with a simple explanation for why she had taken so long. They would all share a laugh over the simple misunderstanding, then the four-truck convoy would return south to New Mexico.

28

Jessa felt a warm mug carefully being pressed into her hands.

“Drink it.”

Without looking down at the steaming cup, she did as she was told. She brought the rim to her mouth and slowly sipped a bit of the hot, sweet liquid.

“Hot cocoa always makes everything a little better.”

Jessa didn’t respond.

She was sitting on the ground, leaning against a tall lodgepole pine. She took another sip of the liquid. It was piping hot, and she appreciated how it gave her something to focus on.

“Your friend had a little cook stove in there. I hope you don’t mind.”

Jessa looked at the woman standing above her and blinked a few times.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Everything was wrong.

“Hey, I know what you’re going through. I lost my three sweet, beautiful kids. My husband, he was my best friend. They were my whole world. There was a day or two I thought I was going out of my mind. Maybe more.”

She squatted down, bringing her face level with Jessa’s. She brushed the hair out of Jessa’s face and tucked it behind her ear. “You’re going to be just fine.”

She sat down next to Jessa, and they both leaned against the tree, watching the dappled sunlight dancing on the ground.

“Come on, it’s morning. It’s time to go. We need to get out of here.”

Trina pulled Jessa to her feet from where she had been lying on the sofa in the living room. Blinking the grogginess out of her heavy eyes, she realized she had been asleep. Jessa shook her head and, once standing, twisted out of her grasp.

“No, I’m not leaving like this,” Jessa muttered. “I’m not ready yet.”

“You’re not ready yet?” Trina asked, exasperated. “We’ve spent a whole night here already.”

Jessa’s stubbornness stepped in and made her return fully to her senses. She wasn’t going to be persuaded to do something she didn’t want to do.

“Jessa, I don’t think it’s safe here. We need to just get out of Colorado,” Trina said.

“I’m not leaving him lying in there,” she said.

“He’s not lying in there anymore,” Trina said, glancing at the back bedroom. “I had to drag him out of here – all by myself, I might add. You wouldn’t respond to anything last night. You totally lost it. So I had to get that smell out of here so I could sleep on the other couch.”

Jessa blinked, getting her bearings, and looked out the window. “Well, I’m sorry you had to do that alone. And thank you for looking out for me. I appreciate that. But I can’t leave him to rot in the front yard like that.”

“You want to bury him?” Trina asked, lifting an eyebrow. “That would take way too long. And we need to get to a safer place as soon as possible.”

Trina tried to grab Jessa’s arms again and lead her back toward the truck. “Come on, I’ll drive, OK?”

Jessa yanked her hands back, irritated. “I told you, I’m not ready yet. I need to dispose of his body. Besides, there are too many good supplies here to just leave behind. I’m going to pack up the truck with what’s left of his food and tools.”

“Are you serious?” Trina asked, her eyes narrowing. “That’ll take all day. Maybe two days. Do you want to stay another night here?”

“I don’t know. It’ll take how long it takes. If it means staying another night, so be it.”

“You’re crazy, Jessa. What if someone finds us out here? What if those gangs control this area?”

“Trina, we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Jessa said with an edge to her voice. “No one’s going to find us out here. That’s exactly why Chris came here when the virus was raging.”

Trina stomped her foot out of frustration, crossed her arms across her chest and sighed forcefully.

“You’re free to go if you want,” Jessa said. “You can take Chris’s GMC.”

Trina closed her eyes shut for a moment, then opened them to look at Jessa impatiently. “I’m not driving out of here alone.”

“Fine,” Jessa said. “Then you can wait while I do what needs to be done.”

Trina sighed again. “What can I do to make this go faster?”

Jessica shoved her hands in her pockets and looked around the property. “Gather up some dry sticks and branches from around this yard and take them over to that campfire ring there.” Jessa pointed to the circle of stones in the back.

“Why?”

Jessa averted her eyes. “Because Chris once told me he wanted to be cremated.”

She took a deep breath, then walked over to where Trina had dragged her friend’s body, wrapped in a sheet. Without taking a moment to pause, she grabbed the body and began to drag the heavy weight, moving him to the ground beside the fire pit.

She helped Trina find some more kindling, and she arranged it all in the pit. Then she dragged the body on top as Trina watched.

Jessa lit a stick of resinous pinyon pine with a match, then used the burning stick to light the funeral pyre in several places. They stood silently, watching the body gradually catch fire.

I’m sorry, Christopher, Jessa thought. I’m sorry you didn’t make it. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt about you long ago.

The women watched the orange flames rise up into the afternoon, then they turned away. Jessa sat down on the other side of the yard, keeping an eye on the fire. She didn’t want to watch the body smolder, however, and she was careful not to look directly at it.

Within two or three hours, there wasn’t much more than a pile of coals and ashes left. Jessa watched as the fire died down.

She doused what remained of the wood coals with a bucket of water, brushing back a few tears. Then she got to work.

Seeing Chris’s things in the interior of the cabin brought tears to her eyes once more. She still couldn’t believe he was gone, but she had to pull herself together. She knew that Trina was right – it would be safer to return to New Mexico as quickly as possible. But she wanted the trip to count for something. Chris would want her to make use of his food and gear.

Trina followed Jessa inside, and they took a quick inventory of the food supply. The food stores alone would be enough to nearly fill her truck. Jessa would have to choose the most nutritious foods to take along. Moving on to the gun safe, she swung open the unlocked door to find a shotgun, two rifles, and plenty of ammo.

Jessa looked at Trina. “Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

Trina chuckled. “Never even touched one.”

Jessa grabbed some eye and ear protection and the two rifles and gestured for Trina to follow her outside. “It’s time you learned.”

Jessa gave her a quick rundown of how to operate the firearm. She led Trina over to Chris’s little makeshift shooting range. Jessa stood beside her, coaching her before Trina fired for the first time. The shot echoed around the quiet mountains. She stumbled back from the recoil.

Trina’s face lit up under her shooting glasses as she turned to Jessa without lowering the gun. “Ooh, I like that!”

“Don’t point the gun at me,” Jessa chided, carefully pushing the rifle back around toward a safe direction. “Remember, always keep it pointed down until you’re ready to fire. Got it?”

Trina nodded. “Can I shoot again?” She asked loudly to be heard through the earmuff.

Jessa gave a sharp nod. She was surprised to see that Trina was a decent shot, and she watched as she fired off several more rounds. At least Trina would be able to fire the rifle in case of emergency.

After the improvised gun training session, they returned the firearms to the cabin.

Jessa found the keys to the tool shed and walked outside to do a quick inventory. It was well-stocked – just a cursory glance revealed chainsaws and spare parts, a couple of axes and a splitting maul, landscaping and gardening tools. Chris’s toolbox was filled with useful items, and various automotive tools, parts, and fluids were stashed on the shelves. Inside the cabin, there was outdoor gear, quality knives, plus all the guns and ammo and food stores. Plus, she could probably find some medical supplies somewhere.

She would have to consider what they had to back in New Mexico, and what was most needed. There would need to be a lot of decisions made about what items should fill her limited truck space, and Jessa felt overwhelmed. And hungry.

“Come on,” she said to Trina. “Let’s fix some food.”

The two women returned to the cabin and put some water to boil, adding in dehydrated soup mix. While they waited for it to cook, they munched on homemade pemmican. Jessa lit an oil lamp; it was getting dark.

Trina stopped mid-chew. “Did you hear something?” she asked, looking worriedly at Jessa.

Jessa paused to listen. She heard nothing but the soup simmering on the stove. She reached over to turn the burner out, then she held still.

“I don’t hear anything but the wind in the trees,” she said, looking at Trina.

They listened for a moment more, then Trina shrugged and took another piece of pemmican. “Probably just the wind. I’m a little on edge, I guess.”

Jessa’s hand came down on hers swiftly and held it still to stop the rustling of the package. She lifted a single finger to her mouth, then walked to the window.

She saw nothing but the dusk outside. Just to be safe, though, she walked to the safe and took out the two rifles, handing one to Trina. She turned the oil lamp out then returned to the window. As her eyes adjusted to the low light, she scanned the driveway and the woods beyond it.

Behind the cluster of pine trees at the bottom of the driveway, she saw it. A man was scurrying through the woods, trying to remain hidden as he approached the house.

29

Matt was riding in the backseat of Nick’s truck when he let out a little surprised yelp.

“I saw someone driving a car down there!” he said to Nick, pointing toward the access road off the interstate.

They had covered so many miles without seeing another soul that it was a jolt to see any sign of human activity. “It turned down a side street and disappeared.”

Nick’s ears pricked up. “What kind of car? Did you see who was driving it?”

“It was a sports car. A Porsche, I think. And there were two guys in there.”

Just then Nick looked up to see an exit sign covered in graffiti. He knew it had been painted since the virus outbreak – such a prominent road sign would never have been defaced when highway maintenance crews were up and running.

Nick shifted in his seat, his eyes scanning the area around them. He had a bad feeling about this. They were only a couple of miles from the loop that would circumvent downtown and head west, but he didn’t know if they could make it even that short distance.

“Keep that shotgun of yours ready.”

Matt nodded. “You think they could be dangerous?”

“You just never know these days.” He glanced in the rear-view. Liz was driving the F-150, with Bethany and Mia as passengers, and Charlie brought up the rear in the Dodge truck.

Slowing down his speed, he pulled over to the shoulder and motioned for Liz and Charlie to do the same.

“We’ve already spotted some people, and I’m going ahead to scope things out before we go further,” Nick said as he reached the Ford. Charlie got out of the Dodge and walked up to the group to listen.

Nick looked at the other side of the interstate, which was thronged with wrecked and abandoned cars, left by people trying to flee Denver when things were chaotic with the virus.

“Liz, you drive over to the other side – the southbound interstate. Turn the pickup around to face the other way and park. The Ford will look like just another abandoned vehicle. You, Bethany, and Mia stay down and out of sight until I’m back.”

Liz looked at the cluster of parked vehicles on the other side of the interstate and nodded.

“Charlie, you do the same with the Dodge. Matt, you wait there with him,” Nick said.

Charlie shook his head. “No way. I’m going with you.”

“Okay,” Nick said, shrugging. “I could use another pair of eyes and ears. But you should leave the Dodge on the other side with the Ford.”

“I’m going too,” Matt said.

Nick looked at his nephew, who had walked over to join them as they discussed the plan. He opened his mouth to refuse Matt’s offer, but something in the way the boy stood made him reconsider. He looked determined and grounded, clenching his shotgun in his hands. Nick gave him a nod. He was in.

Charlie and Liz drove ahead to where there was a break in the guardrail and crossed the median to the other side of the interstate, where they blended in with the tangle of vehicles. The women and Mia positioned themselves in the parked truck where they would not be noticed by a casual observer, and Charlie left the Dodge truck nearby before jogging back to the Silverado.

Nick eased back out on the highway with Matt and Charlie and continued toward the city. As they climbed to the top of a hill, the downtown Denver skyline came into view, bleak and charred. Even from a distance, they could see how many buildings had been burned.

The truck reached the top of the hill and Nick came to an abrupt stop. About 150 yards ahead stood a school bus stretched across the road, blocking their passage.

No!

With his heart pounding, Nick slowed to make a sharp U-turn.

“Why are you turning around?” Matt asked, confused. “We can squeeze through on the side.”

Nick straightened the truck out and sped off. He had to get back to the women as fast as possible. They had to all get out of there.

“Nick’s had some trouble with roadblocks before,” Charlie said, looking through the scope of his rifle as he pointed it out the window.

As the truck once again reached the top of the hill and started its descent on the other side, Nick felt a sharp tightening around his chest.

Two hundred yards away, a pair of large SUVs were racing wildly toward them. Suddenly Nick found himself staring at several rifles pointing out the windows and aimed in their direction, getting closer with every fraction of a second.

He blinked once, and he had his plan. Pushing the gas pedal down, his eyes darted up ahead to the small service road that connected the two sides of the interstate.

Charlie leaned out his window slightly to sight through his rifle.

Boom!

The first shot fired came from one of the SUVs, and then all chaos broke out. Charlie returned the fire, and several shooters from both of the oncoming vehicles shot back.

“Hold on!” Nick shouted as he pulled on the steering wheel sharply right to turn down the service road. He nearly lost control of the truck as he made another turn – this time left onto the southbound portion of the interstate. Behind him, Matt began to fire his shotgun from the open back seat window.

“Get down!” Nick ordered as they got closer to the SUVs, which had stopped and were waiting for Nick to pass by. Nick’s truck flew by them as they fired. The truck endured a barrage of rounds to its body.

Nick returned to his upright position, having ducked down momentarily as he passed them. “Is anyone hit?” he asked Charlie and Matt.

“Not me,” Matt replied in a shaky voice.

“The bastards didn’t get me yet,” Charlie said as he turned around in his seat to aim his gun again at the SUVs behind them.

Nick watched in the rear-view mirror as the SUVs turned around and began to pursue them once more. There were five men shooting at them.

Were these strangers risking their own lives just to steal their supplies and guns? Or had they seen the women waiting in the other truck? Whatever they wanted, Nick feared he, Charlie, and Matt were no match for these attackers.

30

Liz lay motionless behind the steering wheel of Matt’s truck and moved only her eyes up to look at Bethany and Mia. Bethany had used the opportunity to take another nap in the passenger seat.

“How can she sleep with this horrible smell all around us?” she whispered to Mia in the back seat.

Mia quietly groaned in agreement. The stench of the rotting bodies in the cars around them was overwhelming, even with all the windows closed tight. Liz wished she would have stationed the truck a bit farther away from the other cars. Swarms of flies buzzed around them, and birds feasted on the bodies they could get to.

“I hope they hurry,” Mia said. “Those buzzards might try to get to us next.”

“Shhh,” Liz said. “Someone’s coming.”

The revving engine of a vehicle traveling at top speed grew louder.

Her insides twisted in fear as she determined it wasn’t coming from the same direction Nick and the guys had driven toward. It was coming from the south.

Her palms began to sweat as she realized the sound wasn’t one engine – it was two.

She moved her head slightly and opened her eyes just a slit to watch a Cadillac Escalade and a Land Rover – looking like they had just been driven off the sales lot – barreling down the road. Driving at breakneck speeds by men with determined looks on their faces, they were clearly on a mission.

Suddenly, she began to feel claustrophobic and had to pant for breath. The guys had just walked into a trap.

White-hot fear gripped her, paralyzed her. The SUVs blazed past them on the other side of the median. Liz struggled to catch her breath.

Beside her, Bethany started to stir. “Is something happening?” She asked, half-asleep.

Liz didn’t answer. Instead, she only listened. The sound of the engines was decreasing as the vehicles careened down the road. Now, she could hear Mia’s ragged breath, laced with panic, in the backseat.

Her gut told her it was no coincidence. The drivers of the SUVs had spotted Nick, Charlie and Matt. She knew it.

I have to do something.

Liz had made a terrible mistake before – one that had nearly cost them their lives.

The terror of the night she had been kidnapped returned to her now. The fear and desperation on the faces of the people she cared about that night still haunted her. She hadn’t been able to forgive herself for that awful lapse in judgment that had led three murderers to their idyllic home.

Her hands drew up into clenched fists.

The three men who had attacked them a week ago had been driven by inhuman cruelty. They hadn’t cared who they killed or what they destroyed.

Now the same sort of soulless shells of men were racing down the road to hurt Nick, Charlie, and Matt. Then, she thought bleakly, they would return for the women.

They were the only family she had. She wasn’t going to let it happen. She would redeem herself for her poor judgment in the past.

She sat up in her seat and unlocked the doors. “Bethany, Mia – go wait in the Dodge!”

“What?” Bethany asked, confused.

But Mia already understood. “Don’t do it, Liz!” She protested, her face twisting in fear.

Liz turned around in her seat to face the little girl and looked into her brown eyes. “You have to trust me, Mia. I can do this. I have to do this to help the guys – all of us.” She reached her hand out and stroked Mia’s cheek tenderly.

“I’ll see you soon, kiddo.”

The gesture seemed to give Mia some reassurance. “Please be careful,” she said with a trembling voice, then opened the door and jumped out.

Bethany groggily followed her to the Dodge pickup as Mia filled her in on what was going on.

Liz started the Ford and turned it around to face the opposite direction. When she saw that Mia and Bethany were safely inside the other truck, Liz drove off, her rifle in her lap. The pain from the wound on her calf flared up as she stepped hard on the gas pedal, but she ignored it. The pain meant nothing.

When she advanced past the largest web of wrecked cars on the south-bound interstate, she picked up speed. Her heart was beating so fast she could feel it in her temples. She took big gulps of air and tried to steady her shaking hands as she pressed the truck onward toward Denver.

After about a mile, she heard the roaring of several engines – the two SUVs and Nick’s Silverado, she guessed. But now it sounded different. Now, they were approaching in her direction.

As if her hands possessed a higher knowing than her racing mind, she jerked the steering wheel sharply to the left and began to climb a ramp leading up to an interstate overpass. She narrowly avoided crashing into an abandoned station wagon left in the middle of the overpass as she came to a stop on the bridge.

Liz grabbed her rifle and ran over to the guardrail. She hoisted the semiautomatic over the edge and pulled the stock tight into her shoulder pocket. Crouching down, most of her body was protected behind the thick concrete wall.

She remembered how Nick always had to remind her to breathe in situations like this. She took some deep breaths now to steady herself as she heard the sound of the engines getting louder.

Nick’s truck was the first to come into view. He was driving at top speed, trying to lose the SUVs behind him while Charlie and Matt fired their guns at the men tailing them. Two or three men in each SUV were shooting at the guys.

It was a chaotic, horrific scene. And the massive vehicles were gaining on Nick’s heavy truck.

Liz sighted the Escalade driver in her scope, took a deep breath, and started pulling the trigger over and over.

Bang bang bang bang!

The shots rang out, the force of the gun rocking through her body, and she gritted her teeth, fighting to keep herself steady against the recoil. The Escalade’s windshield shattered, and she kept firing at the driver.

With the cracked glass, she couldn’t see when she hit the crazed man. But when the vehicle careened off to the side and crashed into the guardrail, she knew he had been shot.

A shot from the Land Rover shattered the rear glass of Nick’s truck. She swiveled the rifle to aim at the second vehicle and began shooting at its driver. The passenger spotted her sniper’s nest and turned his fire toward her. She instinctively ducked her head down, hiding from the shots for just a moment.

Get back up there! You can’t stop now!

She popped back up to look over the edge just as Nick’s truck disappeared under the overpass with the Land Rover still tailing it. Looking at the crashed Escalade, she saw no movement. Both the driver and the passenger appeared to be dead, so she raced over to the other side of the bridge.

The AR-15 aimed out the window of the Ford unleashed a relentless torrent of rounds on the pursuers. Before Liz could even raise her own rifle in the direction of the Land Rover, the SUV driver was hit by the spray and jerked backwards, then slumped forward, his head hitting the steering wheel.

The Land Rover plunged into the concrete wall beside the median, then flipped over. Liz held her breath as she watched the scene. Nick slowed down as he waited and watched for any response from the Land Rover passengers. He was undoubtedly trying to assess the situation with Liz and the Escalade behind him as well.

Liz scuttled back to the other side of the bridge and looked over the edge at the Escalade. Her heart skipped a beat.

The passenger was gone.

31

Crouching down once more, Liz scanned the area. Panicking, her eyes wildly flashed from the vehicle below to the median and the opposite side of the interstate, then to a stand of trees off the shoulder of the highway. She saw nothing, but she knew an armed man from the Escalade was somewhere nearby.

She didn’t know his location, but he no doubt knew hers. A chill spread throughout her body, raising the hairs on the back of her neck.

Mason to Tracker Three. What’s the status on the target? Over.

The tinny, muffled voice coming through the CB radio in the Escalade pierced the unnatural silence as Liz scanned the area below the overpass, making her jump.

So there were others that knew about their entrance to Denver. And with no one responding to the inquiries on the radio, reinforcements would likely be sent in soon.

Liz swept her head from side to side, trying to see through her tunnel vision caused by firing the firearm. Where had he run off to? He couldn’t have gotten far – she had just turned her back for two minutes.

She squinted toward the cluster of pines off to the side and down below. He must have run to the forested patch near the shoulder to hide while she was on the other side of the bridge. But she saw nothing, and she was running out of time.

She hadn’t heard anything from behind her. She could only wonder what was happening with Nick and the Land Rover. She prayed that none of her own were injured.

Tracker Three, do you read me? Over.

A frantic movement from within the stand of trees caught her eye. Just as soon as she saw the man, he began shooting at her. The rounds hit the concrete wall around her, chipping the material and sending flakes and dust everywhere. She ducked down for a moment, then swung her rifle around to aim.

Doing her best to keep her hands from shaking, she found her target in the scope and fired off several rounds. The sound was deafening and the force of the rifle overwhelming. She pulled the trigger again and again.

Finally, she hit him in the chest. He staggered backward, his hand going to his wound. After a moment, she saw him fall to the ground.

Once certain the man was dead, Liz raced back to the Ford. She peeled out and drove down the ramp. Once again entering the southbound interstate, she saw Nick watching her. She approached quickly, weaving her way around the wrecked cars left two weeks ago by Hosta victims.

“Are you okay?” he called out to her as she skidded to a stop nearby.

She nodded furiously, impatient to flee the scene. “Are you guys all right?”

“All okay here,” Nick said as he ran over to the Land Rover to retrieve the rifles the men had used. Liz flashed her eyes over to see Charlie and Matt, who looked frightened but physically unharmed.

“Thanks for your help back there,” Nick said, returning to his truck.

Liz gave a curt nod. They could chitchat later, but they weren’t safe on this stretch of highway.

“Bethany and Mia are in the Dodge where I left them. The Escalade had a CB radio and I heard something – more men are on the way,” she said breathlessly.

“Got it,” Nick called over to her as he climbed in the truck. “Let’s go get Bethany and Mia and get out of here!”

Nick sped off down the road with Liz right behind him. Two minutes later, they had arrived where Bethany and Mia were waiting and alerted them to the danger.

With Bethany driving the Dodge, the three-truck convoy was once again on the move – this time backtracking to the south. Taking the lead again, Nick would have to find an alternative route to Chris’s cabin.

Liz fought back nausea as she concentrated on keeping up with the two vehicles in front of her – and avoiding a collision with the debris scattered along the road. They weren’t out of danger yet, but for the time being, they had made it. And she had helped.

She pounded on the dashboard several times with her fist – she wasn’t sure if the gesture was out of relief, fear, or disgust. Probably all three.

She wasn’t glad she’d had to kill two men that day. She felt a peculiar sense of triumph laced with grief. They’d survived, but she’d had to take lives.

The five men in the SUVs had looked possessed. Evil. Ready to kill just to take the supplies from the trucks.

She had saved her friends from a vicious attack. She had listened to her gut instinct and taken action instead of idly sitting by and hoping for the best. She had learned her lesson with James, the man prowling around the lodge in New Mexico. She had to protect herself and her friends at all costs.

Back in those carefree days before the virus – the days that felt so long ago – she had the luxury of being able to trust people. But that time was over. The world had changed, and her heart would have to change with it.

She wouldn’t lose her capacity to love or her compassion. She wouldn’t lose her humanity. But she would always have to be on guard. Her trust would have to be earned. No longer would she give it away freely.

As she drove through that highway, she began to see things more clearly. Liz had already lost everything once before, long ago. Her parents and brother had been ripped away from her, leaving her empty and gutted. She wasn’t going to let that happen again.

Today, she’d come so close to losing Nick and the others. They were people she had come to care about deeply in just a short time. They were all that mattered to her, all she had left in the world. They were her new family, and she would fight to the end for them.

Jessa, who had become like a sister to her, was out there somewhere. Liz would fight for her, too.

32

Jessa kept her eye on the man in the woods as her heart began to pound. She gestured to Trina to indicate that there was someone out there.

“Get down, and get ready to shoot,” she whispered.

The man climbed the hill drawing closer to the house. Finally, he stopped at the tool shed. Jessa gasped for air. It felt like her chest was closing in on her.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

The man called in a taunting voice. “I know you’re in there, and I know you two little ladies are alone.”

“What the –” Trina muttered.

Jessa shushed her.

“You gals are trespassing on BSC’s territory. All this belongs to us now. You’ll have to come with me and explain yourselves to the man in charge,” he called to them.

“Shit! I told you we shouldn’t be here,” Trina hissed.

“You’re the trespasser,” Jessa called out to him, still crouched near the window. “Get off this property or we’ll shoot!”

“Times have changed,” he said, his voice betraying the kick he got out of the whole interaction. “Now, we own everything out this way. We are the law around here now. You’re breaking the law, and I’ll have to take you in to Bobby.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Don’t make this harder on yourself, lady. Just do this the easy way and you won’t get hurt. We’ve got this place surrounded,” he said through a grin.

Trina crawled over to the window, where she peered out. “I don’t see anyone out there,” she whispered.

“Get off my property now, or I’ll take you out,” Jessa growled.

The man laughed from his position behind the shed.

She knew what was coming next. She didn’t want to shoot him. She wasn’t a killer. But he left her with no other choice.

It was dark out there now, with no moon up yet. The wind picked up, rustling the trees. Her gaze was still fixed on the tool shed, but he was out of sight. She frantically searched the area for him, hoping to spot him, but she saw nothing.

Suddenly, a figure darted from behind a tree, making a beeline for shelter behind the woodpile. Without hesitation, without thinking, Jessa’s body was propelled forward.

She sprang to her feet and threw open the door, keeping her body covered as much as possible. She brought her rifle up and aimed at the man. The deafening shot rang out into the night, echoing.

The man was hit in his chest, and he flew backward to the ground. Jessa fired once more at his twitching body, leaving him immobile and lifeless.

She swept her gaze right and left, looking for any other movement in the woods. The night was still and silent, and she said nothing. As she turned to retreat inside the cabin, she saw a white flash in the driveway.

Lifting her rifle once again, she took aim at the second man as he sprinted toward an SUV. She fired once and missed. She steadied herself and squeezed the trigger again. This time the round found its target, and the man fell in a heap.

Jessa looked around to see if there was anyone else. She held her rifle up as she patrolled the area, walking around the cabin and checking behind the outbuildings. But she found nothing.

After nearly a half hour waiting in the dark, she decided there must have only been two men.

“Dammit!” Jessa muttered as she walked back inside and closed the door behind her.

Her ears were ringing. She tried to keep her hand from shaking as she struck a match and lit the oil lamp again, sending a warm glow through the small space. She had shot two more people.

“Are you all right?” Trina asked, speaking loudly to be heard over the ringing in both of their ears.

Jessa nodded. “Just a little shaky, but I’m okay. I shot both guys. I think that’s all there were. There weren’t any other vehicles out there, and the property is clear.”

She looked up to see the horrified look on Trina’s face.

“You killed them?” Trina asked incredulously.

Jessa avoided eye contact. “I had to. Unless you wanted to go with them and report to Bobby?”

Trina looked out the window toward the place where the first man lay. “No, I know you had to do it. I – I’m glad you did.” Trina stammered. “You are so tough! I wouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“You were right after all. It’s not safe here. We need to leave,” Jessa said. She looked up at Trina, expecting her to gloat. But instead, she just saw worry and fear on the woman’s face.

Jessa walked to the gun safe, packing the shotgun that remained and boxes of ammo for the three firearms in a bag. “Pack up some of that food in whatever you can find.”

Trina nodded, and began to toss some boxes and cans of food into a cardboard box she found in the pantry. “What about gas?” she asked, calling over her shoulder.

“I think Chris has some gas in storage. It’s out in the shed. I’ll go check,” she said, leaving the bag near the door on her way out.

Clutching the rifle, Jessa walked out into the night. She passed by the man lying dead in the brush, avoiding looking directly at him as she passed. She found a barrel and several five-gallon gas cans with fuel stabilizer added, as noted on the label by Chris. He had even written a “Use By” date on the label, and Jessa was relieved to see it would still be good.

She filled up the tank of her Forest Service truck and threw the empty cans in the shed. She was just about to dash back to the cabin and grab the food Trina had packed when she saw a flash of light appear at the bottom of the driveway.

She ran behind the metal shed out of sight just before the headlights came into view. She took a deep breath, brought her rifle up once again, and took aim. When she saw the second set of headlights behind the first, the fear began to grip her. All she could hope for was that Trina would think fast enough to grab the second rifle and start shooting. There were too many for Jessa to handle alone.

33

As the trucks advanced up the long driveway, Jessa saw that there were three sets of headlights. She lifted her rifle and looked through the scope. She took a deep breath. She was ready.

She was just about to squeeze the trigger when she heard a familiar voice.

“Jessa!”

She looked more closely at the driver. Her heart pounded.

“Nick!” she cried, lowering her gun and flipping the safety back on.

“Hold your fire!” she yelled to Trina inside the cabin. “I know them!”

She watched, trembling, as Nick’s Silverado pulled up, with two trucks behind it. She was confused but elated. Jessa ran up to greet them as Nick opened his door and stepped out.

She threw her arms around him, relieved to see familiar faces. Suddenly overcome with emotion, she couldn’t fight back a wave of tears that came rushing up. The grief over losing Chris, the threat from the invaders she had just dealt with, and now seeing her friends had driven so far just to find her – it all unleashed a flood of emotions. She found herself sobbing in Nick’s arms.

“It’s okay, Jessa,” Nick said soothingly. “Everything’s all right now.”

Jessa shook her head and pulled back to look at him. “No, it’s not. Everything’s terrible. Some people just tried to kill us. And Chris…” Her voice trailed off.

“He didn’t make it?” Nick asked gently.

“No, he didn’t,” she said, her voice breaking. “The virus got him.”

Nick pulled her in again in an embrace. “I’m so sorry, Jessa.” He held her for a moment until she had regained control. She stepped back and wiped her tears away.

“Thanks, Nick.” She sniffed and looked at all the others who had emerged from their vehicles.

“Liz, Mia,” she said, embracing all her friends. “Charlie. It’s so good to see all of you.” She shook the hands of Matt and Bethany without waiting to be introduced. “I can’t believe you made it all the way up here. But why did you come so far?”

Her eyes moved to the vehicles parked along the driveway. They were loaded with supplies. She looked back at their weary faces. Something was wrong.

“Is everything okay back at the lodge?” she asked warily.

Charlie took a deep breath. “The lodge is gone.”

The main space of the small cabin was full of people. They ate a hastily improvised meal with what they could find and caught everyone up on what had happened in the previous days.

They agreed to get back on the road soon, but everyone was exhausted and hungry. They needed a break.

Jessa sat with another cup of hot cocoa as she listened to the story of the forest fire, the evacuation, and the group’s encounter with the gang in Denver.

Nick told Jessa and Trina how they had found a back route using a road atlas. They had made an even wider berth to arrive at the cabin than Jessa and Trina, though the last leg of the route was the same.

She listened quietly, her eyes wide. When they had finished their story, she sat thinking for a moment.

“Did you see or hear anything about the BSC?” Jessa asked.

Nick’s mind flashed to the street sign he had seen marked with those initials. “It was painted over an exit sign on I-25. It looked to be gang related.”

Jessa relayed the story of her entrapment in the truck stop storeroom, when she heard the men talking about an organized group. “Trina says Denver is completely ruled by gangs now.”

Trina nodded. “The BSC is the main one. They were a West Coast gang who moved up to Denver a few years ago. Before the virus, you’d only hear about them once in a while. Now I think they control half of Denver. What’s left of it, I mean. From what I saw and heard before I went into hiding, the BSC and Los Pumas have enlisted or captured most of the survivors in the area.”

Nick paced back and forth, listening. “What was the pre-Hosta population of the Metro Denver area?” he asked Trina.

Trina shrugged. “I never paid attention to that kind of stuff. I just knew it was getting bigger all the time. And then suddenly almost everyone died.”

He looked to Mia.

“It was around three million people,” she said.

Nick nodded, then looked up at the ceiling to concentrate as he did the math.

“Four percent of that would be 120,000,” Mia said.

Nick flashed her a smile, then his face grew serious again. “That’s a lot of survivors. I’m guessing a lot of them headed for the mountains when the virus broke out.”

Trina nodded. “I think so. A lot of my neighbors left Lone Pine in the beginning. But my kids got sick so early that we didn’t want to leave home.”

Jessa jumped in. “So the people who stayed behind are either part of a gang or holed up at home…”

“Until they run out of food, like I did, and have to go out searching. Which is dangerous to do, because the gangs are everywhere. And every place of business is under their control.”

“So the survivors are forced to join their ranks if they want access to any resources?” Charlie asked.

“You got it. A lot of people join of their own free will, if you can call it that. They want protection and they want to eat. All the interstates to the south and west of Denver are in their territory. All the neighborhoods too. Everything, really – they control the supermarkets, gas stations, warehouses. Then you have people who are caught. Like I was, until I escaped and Jessa helped me get out of there.”

Trina smiled at Jessa, then continued. “I think that happens to some of the women. I know the guys who caught me were really happy to tell their boss. I think they’re always hunting for women. I don’t know where they keep them. I’m just glad I didn’t have to find out.”

Trina shuddered, and everyone was silent for a moment.

“And the two main gangs are fighting each other?” Liz asked.

“Yeah, it’s basically a war between them,” Trina said, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. “Each of them wants to push the other out of Denver.”

Nick shook his head. “They’ve got it all wrong. They think the food supplies in the city will last forever? If these people want to survive, they need to spend their energy on setting up something sustainable, like a large-scale farm.”

“Oh, they’ve got a few,” Trina said. “When my husband went to go check on his parents out in Aurora just before he died, he saw two or three. They’re taking over the existing farms, getting organized. That’s part of the reason they’re trying to force people to join their ranks. They want the labor. The BSC are kidnapping people and sending them to work.”

A chill fell over the eight people gathered in the living room.

“You mean they’re using slave labor?” Jessa asked, bewildered.

“That’s what I mean,” Trina said. She pulled her cardigan close around her neck. “I heard some of the bastards talking about it a few days ago when they were prowling around my next-door neighbor’s house. I was just lucky they got called out on their radio before they moved on to my house.”

“I think Mia and I are going to get some air,” Liz said, standing up after she noticed the terrified look on the child’s face. “This talk might be a little intense for her right now.”

“Good idea,” Nick said. “Stay close by, though. And don’t forget your rifle.”

Liz picked up the AR-15 and Mia followed her out onto the porch.

“Go on,” Jessa said to Trina. “And, by the way, I can’t believe you never told me any of this before.”

Trina shrugged. “We were preoccupied with running for our lives the first day, and then you checked out on me the second.” She gave Jessa a small smile before continuing.

“Anyway, the guys looting my neighbor’s house were talking about some recruits. At first I thought they were talking about people who had volunteered to join the BSC. Then the guy on the radio told them to bring some chains. Those bastards started laughing about the recruits trying to escape, how they didn’t want to be sent to work. That’s when I knew ‘recruit’ was code for ‘slave.’”

Nick looked at each of them in turn as Trina paused her story. Matt’s face was stricken; Jessa’s and Bethany’s were horrified. Charlie stared at his hands in his lap. Nick himself felt his insides twist into a knot. The sick tightening returned to his chest. There seemed to be no end to the horrific acts people were capable of.

“It sounded like they used a breaking-in period with the ‘recruits.’ They threw around some terms that sounded like they were talking about torture. Different psychological and physical techniques… I don’t really remember. I just remember feeling chilled to the bone. These guys are heartless. They don’t have souls or something.”

“Did you hear anything else?” Nick asked.

“From the sound of it, after the breaking-in period, they have a system for deciding who goes to work where. They send them to work on one of the farms or the warehouses.”

“Or to run down people on the interstate,” Charlie added.

Trina shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’d bet those guys wanted to be there. They get a kick out of doing that.”

“So were they going after their supplies when they were chasing Nick’s truck?” Jessa asked.

“Sure, their supplies, their trucks, the women, everything. If you guys hadn’t put up a big fight, they would have taken you in as recruits. But because you shot back, I guess they figured they’d try to kill you and take your stuff. I bet they didn’t expect you to have all those guns."

“Or a sniper on an overpass,” Nick said. He was proud of Liz’s fast thinking.

“I think I can speak for everyone: Wow. I had no idea this kind of thing was going on up here,” Charlie said. “These guys sound organized and deadly.”

“They know what they’re doing,” Trina agreed.

“I think we should just get out of here as soon as possible,” Nick said. He looked at Bethany, who had been quiet for a while. “Do you think you’re ready to hit the road again?”

Bethany nodded. “I’m pretty tired, but maybe I can sleep on the ride. I don’t want to hold us all up if we’re in danger.”

“Do you need fuel?” Jessa asked the newcomers. “Chris had some gas cans out there. I was just filling up my truck when you guys drove up.”

Nick breathed a sigh of relief. “He was a smart man. Yes, we do need some fuel.” Jessa stood up and began to cross the distance to the door when Liz’s alarmed voice rang out into the night.

“Nick! Jessa, Charlie! I could use some help out here!”

34

Jessa threw the door open and looked out into the dark night. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, then she could see Liz pointing her rifle at a middle-aged man who was holding his hands up.

Jessa instinctively raised her own rifle and aimed at the man.

“Don’t shoot! I’m unarmed,” the man pleaded.

“Is there anyone else out here?” Nick asked, stepping out with his own gun drawn and followed by Charlie.

The man shook his head. “I’m alone.”

“I only saw him,” Liz offered, refusing to take her eyes off the man.

Jessa looked at Mia, who was standing behind Liz over by the tool shed. “Go inside, Mia.” Jessa watched her go inside and shut the door behind her.

“We’re not going to take this guy at his word, are we?” Charlie asked, scowling.

“Of course not,” Nick said. “Charlie, do you want to go check the property?”

“I’m on it,” Charlie said as he ventured into the darkness with his rifle raised.

“Who sent you? Why are you here?” Jessa growled at the man.

“No one sent me,” the man said. “I was just looking for food and water. I swear.”

“He was prowling around out here,” Liz said. “Hiding out behind some trees.”

“Yeah, I was just listening to see if you folks were friendly before I went and knocked on the door. You can understand that, can’t you?” He asked nervously, his hands shaking in the air.

“I don’t believe you,” Jessa said. She walked over to the man and lifted his shirt up. A 9-mm was tucked in his waistband. She retrieved the gun and scowled at him.

“Unarmed, huh?”

The man laughed nervously. “I guess I forgot about that.”

Jessa patted him down, removing a pocket knife. “Now you’re unarmed.”

“I knew he was lying,” Liz said, disgusted. “What do we do with him?”

“I’ve got an idea,” Jessa said. She walked briskly to the tool shed and disappeared inside. A moment later, she emerged with a roll of cordage.

“We need some information from him. We wouldn’t want him to try to escape in the middle of a conversation.”

Nick and Jessa grabbed an arm each and led him inside. They had him sit down next to the wood stove as Trina and the others watched with big eyes. Nick waved off their questions as he bound the man’s legs together securely, tying his hands behind his back. The guy protested the whole time, claiming his innocence.

“Cut the crap,” Nick said, looking down at the man before him. He was balding, and wore a tattered flannel shirt with beat-up jeans. “We know you’re working for a gang. Which one is it?”

The guy shook his head. “I’m telling you, I’m innocent! I don’t know anything about gangs. I’m from Idaho Springs, and I just drove down here looking for something to eat. All the food is gone from my house. It’s gone from everybody’s house up there. If you’ll let me go, I’ll be on my way. I get the feeling you folks don’t have any food or water to share.”

Charlie walked through the front door as the guy was making his case. “It’s all clear outside,” Charlie reported. “He came alone, as far as I can tell. He drove a Subaru to get here. It’s parked at the end of the driveway and has a CB radio in it.”

Nick gave him a pointed look. “Does everyone in Idaho Springs have a CB radio?”

The man sighed and kicked his bound legs together against the floor in frustration.

“You want to tell us the truth, now?” Liz asked. “We’re going to get it out of you one way or another.”

“All right, all right,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m with the BSC. They sent me out here on a scouting mission. I was supposed to gather information.”

“What kind of information?” Nick asked.

“You know, how many of you there are, how many guns, the layout of the place. I was supposed to get enough details to draw a map of the driveway, house, and property.”

Jessa exchanged a look with the others while the man glanced nervously around him.

“What are you guys going to do to me? I’m not really a gang member. They just made everyone join or they’d kill us. Or let us starve.”

“I don’t know if I believe that either,” Jessa said.

“When is your boss planning to attack?” Nick asked.

“We’re just wasting time talking to this guy,” Charlie said, annoyed. “We should just get out of here now.”

“You won’t get out of here,” the hostage said plainly. “They’ve got the roads blocked off in every direction.”

Fear raced up Jessa’s spine. They were trapped in. Somehow, she didn’t think the man struggling against the rope on the ground was lying about this part.

Nick rubbed the back of his neck. “How many are out there?”

“Fifteen or twenty to the north and about a dozen to the south. But they’re sending more guys in.”

“None of this makes sense,” Jessa said. “What do they want from us? They control half of Denver, right? Why do they need our trucks and our supplies? Don’t they have enough already?”

The man squinted at her, surprised she didn’t understand. “You killed their men.”

“So they want revenge,” Nick said.

A twisted smile came over the man’s face and he nodded his head as he chuckled a little. “Yeah. And they want the women.”

Liz’s mouth hung open.

“You guys need to let me go. I’ll help you surrender. Maybe Bobby will go easy on you and let you work on a farm. They’ve got some bad dudes working for them.”

Nick paced back and forth, not answering him.

“I guess you haven’t heard how they find their foot soldiers?” the man continued. “They pair up newbies and give them some kind of weapon, like a baseball bat or a knife, and have them fight to the death. Whoever is left alive they send in to battle.”

Everyone was silent for a moment, appalled by the twisted logic of the gang.

“Is that how you ended up here?” Jessa asked contemptuously.

The man shook his head. “Nah, I’m not a soldier. I just do intelligence.”

“Well, aren’t you a saint?” spat Liz.

The man shrugged. “I had to hustle before the Hosta. It’s that the same thing now, just a new gig.”

“How did they find us here?” Jessa asked.

“All of us were on alert looking for a Forest Service truck with New Mexico plates,” he said. “I take it you’re the forest ranger we were looking for?”

Jessa didn’t answer, but pursed her lips together.

“The boss heard about your little showdown in the truck stop, and we were looking everywhere for you. Then the bulletin came out for us to find three trucks with New Mexico and Texas plates. We were lucky we found you all in one place,” the man said, twisting the side of his mouth up into a smile.

“I say we shoot him,” Charlie said. He was fuming. “This bastard tracked us here. Let’s shoot him and then leave. He’s probably bluffing about all the guys out there.”

“Hey, I didn’t choose to come out here,” the man blubbered. He looked at each of them, fear wrinkling his brow.

“They made me do this. Anyway, it won’t do you any good to kill me,” he rattled on, talking faster and faster. “And it won’t do you any good to try to escape. You guys are going to get slaughtered if you tried to drive out of here. You have to surrender. And you need to keep me alive so I can tell you the best way to do that. You know, so no one gets hurt. But whatever you do, don’t kill me. I’m just the –“

Charlie raised his rifle and brought the butt down against the side of the man’s head. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped to the side.

“Damn, Charlie!” Jessa said. She checked the man’s pulse. “He’s still alive, but he might be out for a while.”

She turned to look at Charlie. “That was a little rash. He could’ve been useful to us. Next time, you need to run that by all of us first.”

“Next time, you don’t need to run off to Colorado and put all our lives at risk,” Charlie said, narrowing his eyes.

“Charlie, I was only trying to do the right thing,” Jessa said evenly. “I had no way of knowing this would happen.”

“You shouldn’t have run off, Jessa. We wouldn’t be in this mess if you had stayed home,” Charlie said bitterly.

Jessa felt a flood of guilt. While her intentions had never been to cause more trouble, she hated that the people she cared about were now in danger. If only she hadn’t stopped at that truck stop. If only she could have avoided the dangerous areas in Denver, they wouldn’t be in this situation now.

Nick stepped in. “There’ll be plenty of time for pointing fingers later. Right now, we have to decide what to do.”

Charlie turned away, crossing his arms over his chest. Jessa looked down.

“Should we believe that guy?” Bethany asked.

Liz bit her lip. “He was lying at first. Why should we believe anything he said?”

“But what did he have to gain by lying about them sealing off the exits?” Trina asked.

Charlie rolled his eyes. “He was obviously trying to stall. He wanted us to wait around while they send in armies of guys. Right now we’re just wasting time. We need to get in the trucks and go!”

“If we leave now, we risk being ambushed on the road,” Nick said. “These guys have found us. They’re not just going to let us go peacefully.”

“But how can we just stay here and wait for an army to descend on us?” Liz asked, wringing her hands. “We can’t fight them all off.”

“I think we should stay,” Matt said. “At least we have a better chance here than in the trucks.”

“I agree,” Trina said, shaking her head. “I hate the idea of staying here and fighting them, but wouldn’t it be easier to defend the cabin than to confront a roadblock?”

Nick nodded his head. “Yeah, they say you have an advantage defending a property.”

Charlie snorted.

Nick glanced at him. “We know how you feel, Charlie. Bethany? Liz? What do you two think?”

“I don’t know,” Liz said worriedly. “Things went pretty well for us on the interstate earlier today. Maybe being in the vehicles would be the best bet if we have a confrontation.”

Bethany raised her hands in frustration. “I don’t know. You all seem to have so much more experience with this kind of thing. I’m just scared out of my wits.”

They passed a moment in silence. Finally, Liz spoke up.

“Where’s Mia?”

“I’m in here!” she called from the bedroom.

Liz and Jessa exchanged a worried glance, then walked into the bedroom.

“Up here!” her voice came from above. Jessa looked up at the small loft space in the corner of the room, where the roof came to a peak. She had seen it before but hadn’t paid it much attention.

“Hasn’t anyone been up in this loft yet?” Mia asked.

“I guess not,” Jessa said. “This bedroom is where I found Chris. I didn’t look around too much.”

Mia paused. “I think you guys should come check this out,” she said.

Jessa climbed the ladder and into the small loft space. She gasped.

“Liz said she had a kind of sniper nest on the interstate overpass, right?” Mia asked, her face hopeful. “This is like that.”

Nick climbed a few rungs of the ladder to poke his head into the space. A smile crept over his face.

The walls of the loft were lined with ballistic steel plate, making them bulletproof. A small window, made with tempered glass, was positioned at just the right height. A Remington M700 sat atop a shooting tripod in the small space; its muzzle poked out a small hole in the window. A box of ammo was on the floor.

Jessa looked through the rifle scope. “This is amazing. The scope has night vision. I’ve got a great view of the property.”

Nick climbed the rest of the distance, squeezing in the small space to look through the scope.

“I had no idea Chris had this set up,” Jessa said.

Everyone had crowded into the bedroom. Charlie craned his neck to look inside the loft.

“Do you see anyone out there?” he asked.

“Negative,” Nick said. “But that doesn’t mean they’re not out on the road. I don’t have a view of the highway – the trees are in the way, and it’s too far away.”

He climbed down the ladder. “What you think, Charlie? Do you still think we should try to leave?”

Charlie went silent as he thought it over. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead his eyes got big.

“Do you hear that?”

He paused and listened. Suddenly, they all heard it. There were muffled voices, followed by a door slamming in the distance.

"They're already here," Charlie said.

35

Trina was the closest to the door, and the first to move. She raced into the living room, grabbing her rifle. Charlie was next, followed by the others, except Nick, who still scanned the property with the scope.

Nick couldn't see them with the rifle sight in the driveway, so he assumed they were still on the road. Finally, he descended from the loft to join the others in the living room.

Everyone took their weapons and grabbed handfuls of spare ammo to pocket.

“I’ll cut the lights,” Jessa said. She lowered the wick in each oil lamp, and the small flames were extinguished, bathing the cabin in darkness.

"Everyone out into the woods – there’s still time to save yourselves!" Nick said, charging into the room to look out the window.

Jessa started to respond, but Nick cut her off.

"They haven't started coming up the driveway yet. I think they're leaving their vehicles on the road. That means you all have a couple of minutes to escape to the woods behind the house. I'll stay in the cabin, in the sniper’s nest," Nick said quickly. "They'll surround the house, thinking that we're all in here. I'll keep them occupied for a while and the rest of you can escape into the woods. Go now!"

Jessa frowned as she pocketed several magazines of ammo. "I won't let you do that! That's suicide. You can’t take them all on alone!"

"I'll do my best," Nick said. "And it'll give the rest of you a chance to get to safety."

Charlie was dead set against the idea. "We're not going to leave you, Nick."

There was a chorus of agreement with Charlie, and Nick knew there was no use in wasting time arguing.

"Bethany and the kids should hide in the woods, far from the house," Trina blurted out. She turned toward the three of them. "It's too dangerous for you to stay here. Go now, and you have a chance to get away to safety."

"I can stay and fight," Matt started to protest, holding his shotgun.

Nick shook his head. "I need you to help Bethany and Mia get out of danger.” He looked squarely into his nephew's face, and Matt nodded.

"Move straight into the woods past the tool shed." Nick pointed in the direction he wanted them to go, indicating east and away from the driveway. "Go deep into that forest as fast as you can. Don't turn on your flashlight. Run, now!"

Mia threw her arms around Nick's neck for a quick hug, then followed Bethany and Matt out the door into the dark night, disappearing into the woods.

“The bastards are going to think we’re all in this cabin. They’ll surround it and devote most of their men to ambushing it. We won't fire until they're surrounding it," Nick said, gathering up ammo. "I’ll pick off everyone I can see from the loft. When you hear me start shooting, then you can start picking off whoever you have in your sight."

"We'll need to have some people outside, right?" Liz asked.

Nick nodded. "They won't be expecting that, so yes. The more unpredictable we are, the better."

“With Nick in the loft and someone else down here, we can cover the north and west sides of the house," Jessa said hurriedly.

"I saw a deer stand back behind the house," Trina said, pointing to the south. "It was into the woods quite a ways, but I can climb up in that and maybe get a decent shot on anyone trying to get in the back way."

"Liz and I can fan out from the deer stand to the southeast and east," Jessa said.

Nick nodded. "Just make sure you know each other's location so you don't get caught in crossfire. Try to stay covered behind trees or the outbuildings."

"Got it," Liz said, clenching her rifle in her hands and looking out the window.

“So that leaves me to stay down here,” Charlie said, motioning for Nick to help him push a bookshelf in front of the window.

"What about the hostage?” Liz asked.

Nick glanced down at the man who was still out cold in the kitchen. “Leave him.”

He silently opened the front door, pausing to look and listen. "I think they're still on the road, but they'll be here soon,” he whispered. “Go quickly to your spots and wait. Don’t fire until you hear me shooting from the loft. If things get bad, just run straight back into the woods to safety.”

"We’re not abandoning you," Liz said.

“We can do this,” Jessa said, lowering her voice.

“Absolutely,” Charlie whispered.

Jessa followed Liz and Trina outside, ready to split off to go to their respective places. Nick turned inside, locking the front door and pushing a couch in front of it. The heavy oak bookcase blocked off most of the window. It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do.

Charlie stationed himself at the window. The light was low beyond the portion of the open window pane. The moon had not yet risen, still hidden behind the mountains in the distance, but the faint glow of the just-past-full moon spilling over the ridge cast the property in a dim light.

In the bedroom, Nick moved a heavy bureau in front of the only window, then he climbed the ladder to the loft, shutting and locking the small door behind him.

Trying to calm his pounding heart, he looked through the night vision scope. The sound of the voices was still distant.

He prayed his nephew, Bethany, and Mia would be out of harm’s way. Pulling on an ear muff to protect his hearing from shooting in the small, enclosed space, he took a deep breath. He had the Remington on the tripod, and, if he needed them, his AR-15 and Glock beside him.

His chest drew tight as he saw the first few men come up from the road, approaching the cabin through the woods. They snuck up through the woods on both sides of the driveway, then split up to surround the house. He wanted to take them out right away, but they were still too far to get a good shot.

He counted at least twelve men creeping up the property. His heart pounded. There would be little room for error. Everyone was depending on him. He fought back doubt and steadied his breath.

Jessa and Liz watched as Trina climbed the old deer stand, then they spread out in the woods to the southeast and east. Both women used the natural downward slope of the land to their advantage. Jessa lay down on her belly, prone behind her rifle. Liz crouched out of sight behind a tree.

Liz felt the breath knocked out of her as she heard the unmistakable sound of people walking from the road toward the house.

Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, and she could make out several men sneaking around the back side of the house. Nick's intuition had been correct – the invaders surrounded the house but did not venture into the woods.

Just fifty feet away, Liz focused on a man standing guard near the rear corner of the house. Her finger rested on the trigger guard, itching to move it and pull the trigger. Time seemed to stand still as she waited for Nick to fire first.

Jessa kept her gun trained on a squat man stationed near the tool shed. She, too, waited for Nick to begin.

Up in the loft, Nick could see at least seven men spread out along the front of the cabin. They stood with rifles raised and communicated silently with hand signals. When one man stepped forward to charge the door, Nick set him in his sight.

He exhaled and squeezed the trigger back.

Sound exploded in the small room and rang out into the dark night below.

He missed, and the man made a run for the door and out of Nick's range. He swiveled the gun to the next man, who was also running for the door, and pulled the trigger again. This time, the man fell backward into the dirt. Nick moved the rifle, looking for his next target.

Pandemonium had broken out below, with the men running to duck for cover and shooting toward the house.

Liz fired at the man on the corner. She missed, and she watched with horror as he swung around and aimed in her direction.

She fired again, this time hitting him in the chest. He stumbled a few steps, then fell down.

She searched around her, looking for her next target in the confusion. Shots were being fired in every direction. The noise and fear overwhelmed her, but she willed herself to keep calm and focus.

Jessa shot twice at her target, taking the man down.

She saw a flash of movement as another man ran to take cover behind the tool shed. She kept her eye on the area, waiting for him to emerge.

A moment later, he popped up firing at her. One bullet narrowly missed her, and she aimed at him, squeezing the trigger over and over. She heard a grunt, then the sound of him collapsing into the dirt.

She had taken two men down, and Liz one more, but how many more were out there?

The glass where Charlie was stationed had shattered quickly. As it was one of the few windows in the cabin, Charlie knew it was a major target.

He ducked down as window shards shattered everywhere, then raised his rifle once more to shoot into the yard. He struggled to see in the darkness and confusion, but he kept shooting in the direction where the men were hiding. On the other wall – and out of Charlie's range – someone was trying to kick the door in.

Nick had taken down another man, and another. But the invaders had quickly begun to shoot in his direction. So far, the glass hadn't broken.

He strained using the night vision scope to see into the trees below. Everyone had taken cover, and he couldn’t get a good sight on any of the invaders at the moment, though there were several firing at him.

Below the loft in the bedroom, someone had smashed the window. He heard the bureau being rocked back and forth as someone tried to push it out of the way. They were trying to climb inside.

Liz could hear shooting to her left, where Trina was waiting in the deer stand. She hoped that meant that another invader had fallen. She saw a man moving stealthily along the side of the house, headed toward the window where Charlie was stationed.

Just before he rounded the corner, Liz gritted her teeth and pulled the trigger. This time, she killed him on the first shot, and she watched as he staggered to the ground.

It had been quiet in Jessa’s corner for a few moments. The attackers had shifted their efforts toward trying to get inside the cabin. She heard someone kicking at the front door, and another person trying to push their way inside the bedroom window.

She had to do something. She had to move to where she could get a shot at the men trying to force their way inside. But when she left her strategic position, she would be much more vulnerable.

She didn’t know how many men were around the corner on the front side of the house. What if she left the cover of the tool shed and found herself staring down the barrels of five guns?

Terror gripped her.

But she had to do something. Charlie was right – if she hadn’t come to Colorado, none of this would be happening. The people she cared about had risked their lives to come look for her. She would never be able to live with herself if anything happened to them. It was time for her to risk her own life for them.

Still in her prone position, her eyes darted around. The tool shed was just a few yards away, and it looked to be clear.

She picked up her rifle, and stayed low to the ground as she crawled to the rear side of the shed and toward the far corner. She kneeled on the ground and readied her gun.

If she could just get around to the other side of the shed, she would have a good shot at the men at the door. But there could be someone on the side of the shed, or in the trees nearby. If she made a sudden movement, she could draw the attention of all the enemy shooters.

She took a deep breath. On the count of three.

One, two, three!

She popped her head around the corner, her gun raised. An enormous man with a dark beard spun around to face her.

She shot first.

The force of the bullet at close range threw his body to the ground behind him. She stared at him for a moment, just long enough to make sure he was no longer a threat.

A tiny movement in the woods to her right made her head snap up. Before she could shoot at the new target, a shotgun blast rang out into the night.

36

From his nest, Nick spotted a man move as he pivoted to shoot near the tool shed.

Jessa was down there!

Nick aimed and fired, taking the guy down in one shot.

Had he been too late? Had the man shot Jessa? Nick held his breath as he looked through the scope.

A moment later, shots rang out from near the tool shed, aiming at the men near the front door.

His heart sped up. She was alive, but she was taking too many risks – she didn’t have enough cover.

He scanned the area below once more, but this time, there was no one else in his range.

It didn’t matter, anyway. Below, in the bedroom, the bureau came crashing to the floor. The sound of what was left of the window being broken made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

With shaking hands, he reloaded the Remington, then took it from the tripod. He opened the loft door and looked below just as a man was hoisting his body over the windowsill.

With no time to waste swinging the rifle around, Nick grabbed his Glock and aimed at the man. He shot twice, and the man fell to his knees, then face forward onto the floor.

Charlie heard the shots in the bedroom as he tried to keep the guys back from the front part of the cabin. He turned in horror to see the door finally be kicked in. A towering man charged in.

Before Charlie could turn his rifle toward him, a deafening sound filled the living room and Charlie was knocked onto his back. He lay on the floor as blood from his wounded shoulder poured out.

The last thing he saw was the man headed for the bedroom.

Everything was quiet for a moment after the shot inside the living room. After the deafening sounds of multiple guns being fired at once, the silence was a shock.

Jessa feared the worst. She inched forward and looked around the front yard. She saw nothing.

She made a run for it, part of her almost expecting to be shot down before she made it to the door. She ducked inside and looked frantically around. There was even less light in the interior of the cabin, but finally her eyes fell on Charlie’s dark figure, bleeding on the kitchen floor.

At first she thought he was dead. But as she bent down closer to his face, she heard his breathing.

Thank God.

For a moment she froze. She wanted desperately to stop Charlie’s bleeding, but she knew she had to clear the room of any threat first. Before she could even spin around, someone grabbed her.

She tried to twist free, but he had her trapped. He ripped the rifle out of her arms and covered her mouth with his hand.

“Looky what we have here,” he muttered, his breath hot in her ear. “You’re just who I was looking for.”

He started to drag her toward the front door, but another shot in the bedroom made him hesitate.

She tried to use his pause to her advantage. She struggled to get free, but he regained control. She kicked at him, but he twisted out of the way. They were nearing the doorway.

This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t be taken captive by these horrible men.

“Let her go.”

Jessa strained to see Nick standing in the hallway. She could just make out his rifle aimed at the man holding her.

“You’re not going to hurt her.”

The man drew a pistol and pressed its barrel against her head. Jessa flinched.

“I’ll shoot her right now,” the man hissed. “So don’t think about trying anything. Put your weapon on the ground. Then march right back into the bedroom.”

Nick could see everything with his night vision scope. A movement in the corner caught his attention.

Charlie’s eyes were opening and closing from his place on the floor. He was flitting in and out of consciousness.

Now, he opened his eyes wide to see what was unfolding at his side. He drew a hunting knife from his pocket and quietly opened it. He flashed his eyes at Nick.

“Whatever you say,” Nick said as he carefully lowered the rifle to the floor. “Just don’t hurt her.”

The man laughed, then began to pull her toward the door.

Charlie gathered his strength and took a deep breath. He forced his arm to swing out in an arc and stabbed the man in his leg.

As the man’s grip on Jessa loosened, she dropped to the floor and crawled out of the way just as Nick drew his Glock and fired at the man. The round hit him in the chest.

He groaned, grasping at his wounds as his shirt bloomed dark. He stumbled, then fell to a heap in the doorway.

“Charlie!” Jessa cried, rushing to his side.

She clicked on her flashlight and grabbed a clean dish towel from the counter. The wound was deep, in his upper shoulder. He had lost so much blood already, and her hands shook as she applied pressure.

Nick fumbled in his backpack for his first aid kit. The adrenaline was coursing through his veins.

Liz ran up to the door, almost tripping on the dead man. She gasped when she saw Charlie.

“Is it all clear out there?” Nick asked.

Liz nodded. “Yeah.”

“Help Jessa stop the bleeding,” Nick said to her as he pressed the kit in her hands. “I’m going out to check on the others.”

With the Remington once again in his grasp, Nick could survey the scene outside. Keeping to the shadows, he scanned the area. Several of the attackers lay dead in the front yard. He remained alert, looking, listening for any anything.

Matt, Bethany, and Mia waited in their spot behind a towering pine tree deep in the woods. They had spent a tense half-hour, or so it seemed. They had no idea how much time had passed. Gunfire had echoed around the mountains almost relentlessly for quite a while. Then gradually it had died down. Now, it had been several minutes without any shots fired.

“Is silence a good sign or a bad sign?” Bethany whispered. It was the first time any of them had spoken.

“I don’t know,” Matt answered. He wished he had been fighting with the others. At least then, he wouldn’t have this horrible uncertainty. What would he do if Nick and the others got killed? Where would the three of them, now huddled in the dark forest, go from here?

“I think we should wait here,” Mia whispered. “Someone will come look for us when everything’s clear.”

The moon was getting closer to the ridge and throwing a bit more light into the forest.

A rustling of leaves some distance from them made Matt’s heart pound. They all froze, waiting for several long moments.

The noise began again. They held their breath, hoping it was just an animal. But the noise continued, and it became clear that something was approaching them.

It couldn’t be Nick, Matt thought. Nick would call for them, make his presence known.

“I knew I saw somebody running off in the woods back here,” a man’s voice said.

Matt’s eyes fell on a wiry man with hollowed out eyes emerging from the shadows. Suddenly, he stood before them.

He grinned and revealed a mouthful of rotting teeth.

“So this is where they sent the pregnant lady and the kids. You’re coming with me. I won’t have to go back empty-handed to Bobby after all.”

The man approached and reached out toward Bethany. Matt raised his shotgun from where he had been holding it out of sight. A look of horror crossed the man’s face. He was surprised that someone as young as Matt would be armed.

The man moved to raise his pistol, but he was too late. Matt had already squeezed the trigger.

The man’s eyes went round as he stared at Matt just before stumbling to his knees and falling over.

Bethany pulled Mia against her, shielding her from the gruesome scene.

Matt started to panic. What if there were more men coming? What if his uncle had been shot, along with the others?

“We’ve got to run farther into the woods!” he said.

A distant voice rang through the woods, striking fear into Matt’s heart. “They’re coming!” He whispered. “Run!”

“Wait!” Mia said. “It’s Nick!”

She took off running in the direction of the voice. Matt paused to listen more closely.

“Matthew! Mia, Bethany!” Nick called. “It’s all clear!”

Matt and Bethany looked at each other, smiles spreading across their faces. Then they left their hiding place, heading in the direction of Nick’s voice.

37

Charlie’s wound wouldn’t stop bleeding with pressure, to Jessa’s and Liz’s despair. The dish towel had soaked through, and the gauze from Nick’s first aid kit was already becoming saturated with blood.

“I need you to take over,” Jessa said. Liz kneeled over Charlie and continued to apply direct pressure to the wound.

Jessa stood up in a daze, her heart pounding as she rummaged through cabinets in the kitchen. Sweeping her flashlight’s beam through the bathroom, she found a bin of first aid supplies, bringing it back to Charlie’s side.

“Has it slowed down any?” Jessica asked.

“No, I can’t get it to stop!” Liz answered frantically.

As a last resort, Jessa’s shaking hands tore open a package of an emergency hemostatic agent – granules that would quickly form a clot in the laceration. She poured it in the wound.

She then packed the hole with gauze and applied pressure to the wound with additional clean gauze for several minutes.

Finally, Jessa exhaled in relief. “I think it’s clotting now.”

The blood had stopped seeping out of the hole, and they could work on treating his shock. They wrapped blankets around him and lifted his feet.

Trina walked in the front door to see Jessa checking Charlie’s pulse while Liz held a flashlight.

Jessa looked up at her pale face. “Are you okay?”

Trina nodded, staring at the gaping wound. After a moment of stunned silence, she sprang to action, helping the two women keep Charlie warm and attend to his wound.

By the time Nick and the others had returned, Charlie was doing a bit better – conscious, but still woozy.

“You’re going to be okay, Charlie,” Jessa said. “You’re doing just fine.”

“I don’t even feel it,” Charlie muttered.

“That’s the adrenaline,” Jessa said. “It’s a natural painkiller. But luckily we have some stronger painkillers for you to take when that wears off. Plus some antibiotics.”

She looked at him and shook her head. None of this should have happened, she thought guiltily. She washed and disinfected her hands and readied her supplies to dress the wound.

“We need to get out of here before they send in more people,” Nick said. “But I don’t think Charlie’s in any shape to travel.”

“I can give him an IV,” Bethany said. “I have all the supplies in Matt’s truck and I learned how to do it. Well, I read in a book how to do it.”

While Bethany and Jessa were busy setting up an emergency IV bag for Charlie, Trina, Liz, and Matt fueled up the trucks. Nick and Mia gathered up some last-minute supplies and loaded them in the vehicles.

Jessa stopped Nick on one of his trips between the cabin and the vehicles. She moved away from Charlie so he wouldn’t hear.

“What if the hostage was right?” she asked, her forehead furrowing. “What if they have the roads blocked and we can’t get out of here?”

“We’ll just have to take that chance,” Nick said. “We’ll take the southern route out of here. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find that the hostage was exaggerating. Whatever we do, we can’t wait around here for them to send in reinforcements. We need to leave as soon as possible. Is he going to be able to travel?”

They looked back at Charlie, who was receiving the fluids Bethany had set up. The bag hung from the curtain rod. Nick cringed to look at the improvised emergency medicine set-up. It was a far cry from a sterile hospital environment, but it was the best they could do.

“I think so,” Jessa said. “The fluids will help if he has any loss in blood pressure. I wish he could stay here and rest, but we don’t have that luxury.”

She returned to his side to check his pulse again.

“He’s doing a little better,” she said, looking up at Nick.

Nick nodded. “We’re almost done out here. Are you okay with us taking Chris’s guns and ammo?”

Jessa looked at him. “Of course I am. Anything we leave behind will probably become property of the BSC.”

“I’ll pack it up then,” Nick said before disappearing out the door.

There wasn’t enough time to administer the entire IV bag, but the little bit Charlie received helped him to walk to Jessa’s truck and climb in the passenger side.

“I think we should untie the hostage,” Liz said as they gathered up the last few supplies they were taking.

Trina balked. “He’s just another gang member. He would’ve tried to kill us if he had been able.”

Jessa walked to the man slumped over and unconscious on the floor. “He told us the truth, at least partially, and he didn’t have to. I don’t want one more death on my watch when he’s no risk to us.”

She began to untie the knots, and Nick moved to help her.

“He’ll wake up at some point, and what he chooses to do at the moment will be his own concern,” Nick said. “But by then, we’ll be long gone.”

After freeing the man and laying him out on the floor, Jessa took one last look at the cabin. She panned her flashlight around, then closed the front door.

Nick pulled his Silverado out onto the road and turned toward the south while the others waited in their vehicles in the driveway. He drove a short distance down the road, and when he saw nothing, he turned back for the others.

“From what I saw, it’s clear to the south,” he said.

Once again, they were back on the road.

Matt rode with Nick and used the road atlas to navigate. They took 151 south to an even smaller state highway going west and away from Denver. They climbed their way through the mountain range in the dark.

The small highways gave way to a maze of dirt roads that zigzagged through the mountains.

Matt fought back exhaustion, trying to stay alert enough to watch for the turns they had to take. The narrow roads followed switchbacks through the mountains for hours.

Jessa’s truck brought up the rear of the convoy. The fatigue and stress began to wear on her. She repeatedly jumped when she thought she saw something on the side of the road or in the rear-view mirror, only to see that nothing was there. Charlie rested in the passenger seat quietly.

“If were going to avoid the interstate, we’ll have several more hours of these curvy little mountain roads,” Matt said. “It looks like some of the highest peaks in the state are in this area.”

Nick nodded. It wasn’t ideal, but they were high in the Rockies at this point, and the network of roads was sparse.

“We’ll have to find some place to rest soon,” he said. “We can’t push everybody too much.”

Each mile on the mountain roads without running into trouble brought Nick relief. They were far from Denver and Chris’s cabin now.

But the miles also made him exhausted. Finally, he saw signs for a ski resort.

“With some luck, we’ll find some empty rooms to spend the night,” he said as he turned down a new road, following the signs.

They arrived at the resort, relieved to find it deserted. The virus had arrived during the off-season, and the ski lodge was thankfully free of corpses.

They parked the trucks out of sight from the main entrance just in case any members of the BSC might look for them there. Nick broke into the main lodge and made sure it was secure. After replacing the dressing on Charlie’s wound, they settled in for the night.

38

Liz opened her eyes and was immediately disoriented. For a moment, she thought she was back in her apartment in Albuquerque, late for her job at the coffee shop. Her old boss Frank appeared in her mind’s eye, and she feared getting reprimanded by him.

But then she remembered she no longer had to worry about getting to work late.

Now, she had to worry about armed attackers, forest fires, and running out of food.

One thing was much better these days, though. She was no longer alone. All of her worries were shared with seven other people, and somehow, that made the burden a little lighter.

She yawned and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. They had made it through a terrifying night. But she couldn’t even begin to think about last night. It was too horrible. Too much to process. She’d have plenty of time to think about it later. Now they were safe and comfortable in a remote mountain ski lodge.

Liz and Mia had taken one of the two queen-size beds in the room, and Bethany the other. Liz’s eyes began to focus on Bethany, who lay sleeping, snoring lightly in the other bed.

Liz flipped over onto her other side, expecting to see Mia. Except Mia wasn’t there.

Liz got to her feet and pulled her jacket on. They were at 9,500 feet, and it was chilly. She was sure Mia was in the bathroom, but Liz wanted to make certain.

But she wasn’t there either.

Liz opened the door to Jessa and Trina’s room and stuck her head in. No sign of Mia in there.

She ran down the hall toward the main entrance of the resort, calling out for the child. Her voice echoed through the empty hotel.

“Liz! I’m in here!”

Liz arrived breathlessly at the source of Mia’s voice.

“Oh, thank God!” she said as she ran to the little girl and wrapped her in her arms. “You’ve got to stop disappearing like that! You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry,” Mia said sincerely. “I just didn’t want to wake anyone.”

“Next time, leave a note,” Liz said.

“Deal.” Mia turned back to the bookshelf she was looking at.

Liz looked around at the ornate room covered with wall-to-wall bookshelves. Of course, Mia found the library.

“Anything good in here?” Liz asked, yawning.

“There are a few good things, especially if you’re interested in the local history of the area,” Mia said, straining to look at the shelves above her head. “But I can’t find what I’m looking for.”

“What’s that?”

“Anything on pathology, virology, or immunology.”

“Oh. Science,” Liz said, laughing. “You’re really something, Mia. I’ve never known anyone who liked to study those things for fun.”

Mia spotted a step stool and pulled it to the bookcase in the corner.

“But that’s just one of the many things that make you so special,” Liz said and smiled at the little girl. “While you look for textbooks, my dear, I’m going to look for science fiction. That’s about the only kind of reading material that will make our lives feel a little more normal.”

Mia sighed when she finished looking at the last shelf of books. She would have to be content with the closest thing she found – a historical book about the bubonic plague in medieval Europe.

Disappointed, she decided to join Liz in the science fiction section. Re-reading Madeleine L'Engle or Isaac Asimov sounded good. But as she passed a big antique desk, a medical journal from several months ago caught her eye. There was a long, in-depth article about the effects of the Ebola virus in pregnancy.

Bingo.

Jessa woke feeling stiff with knots in her muscles. The tension and fear from the previous night – actually, the previous weeks – had settled in her body. She looked longingly at the shower. Hot water would be just the thing for her aching back, but the hot water heater was electric.

Instead, she did some quick stretches and got dressed. She walked into the hallway just as Nick and Matt were leaving their room.

“How’s Charlie?” she asked, anxious for any news.

Nick smiled. “He’s okay. He just woke up, and I’m sure he’d like to see you.” Nick held the door open for her.

Jessa wasn’t sure if Nick was being sarcastic or not. Though she imagined Charlie held a grudge against her, and rightfully so, she wanted to check on him.

She stuck her head in the door to see Charlie sitting in bed, propped up against the headboard.

“Knock, knock,” she said. “Mind if I come in?”

He waved her in with his free hand. “I think the wound is doing okay. I already took some painkillers and antibiotics just now. I think I’ll live.”

Jessa smiled. “I’ll change the dressing after I wash my hands.” She cleaned her hands in the bathroom, then pulled up a chair at Charlie’s side and began to remove the gauze.

“Well, it’s not pretty, but you’re right – you’re going to live. We just need to keep changing the dressing at least twice a day and keep it clean,” she said as she cleaned the wound.

“Are you hungry?” she asked as she applied a fresh dressing. “I haven’t found the kitchen yet, but I’m sure we can find something good to cook for breakfast.”

“Starving.”

Jessa looked at Charlie, then down at her hands. “Charlie, I’m really sorry. You shouldn’t have been the one to get hurt. I wish it had been me instead. You were right –”

Charlie shushed her. “Hey, you didn’t shoot me. Unless –” he narrowed his eyes at her in mock suspicion. “How much do we really know about you, Jessica Hayward?”

Jessa laughed at his joke. “I’m serious. I’m sorry I disappeared like that. It was reckless, and it ended up putting all of you in danger. I feel terrible about last night. If I had just stayed back home…” Her voice trailed off as tears sprang to her eyes.

“If you had just stayed in New Mexico, the lodge would still be gone right now. We would still be homeless.”

“I know, but last night wouldn’t have happened.”

“I know why you came to Colorado, Jessa,” Charlie said. “You were just trying to help us. You wanted to bring back another pair of hands. And from what I saw and heard, Chris would’ve been a great addition to the group. It’s a shame he didn’t survive that damn virus.”

Jessa brushed a tear off her cheek and shook her head. “That’s not the only reason I came up here. It was part of it, yes. But the other part was my own selfishness.”

Charlie waved her worries away. “If one of my sisters had been living in another state before the virus hit, and I thought there would even be a tiny chance they had survived, you better believe I would be hopping in my car and looking for them.”

“Really?” Jessica asked, sniffling.

“Damn straight. I was wrong before. Caring about somebody and wanting to find them is not selfish. The way Nick and Liz and Mia wanted to drop everything – risk everything – to come up here looking for you: that’s not selfishness. That’s… well, that’s love, I guess. And that’s what you do for family.”

Jessica stared at Charlie, and a new wave of tears fell from her eyes as she wrapped an arm around his neck, careful to avoid his injured shoulder, and came in gently for a hug.

He drew air in sharply through his clenched teeth and groaned as if in pain.

Jessa pulled back. “Oh no! I’m so sorry!”

Charlie grinned. “I’m just kidding.”

Jessa laughed. “As long as you’ve still got a sense of humor, you’ll be fine.”

39

“Please tell me there’s some of that left.”

Bethany stood in the doorway of the guys’ bedroom, one hand on her belly and both eyes staring at the plates of food everyone held.

Matt sprang to his feet. “We’ve got a plate right here for you, and it’s still warm.” He pulled out an extra chair for Bethany, who eased herself slowly into the chair as she held her rotund belly. Matt pulled the cloth napkin off the plate to reveal a stack of pancakes drenched in maple syrup with slices of summer sausage on the side. Bethany grinned and gratefully accepted the plate, then tore into the food.

They had all carried their breakfast to the room where Charlie sat so they could eat together.

“Propane tank?” Bethany asked.

“Yep, just had to turn it on,” Nick said.

“And thank goodness for ultra pasteurized milk,” Liz said. “It needs no refrigeration. And there’s loads of it in the pantry in this place.”

“Do we have much room in any of the trucks to bring extra food with us?” Trina asked.

“I’ve got some room in the bed of my pickup,” Jessa said.

“There’s not much room in the other trucks,” Nick said. “We pretty much loaded them up with gear back in New Mexico. It’s all stuff we need.”

“So how much food do you think we have in total?” Matt asked between bites.

“About two weeks’ worth,” Nick said flatly.

They ate in silence. The weight of reality was pressing in on them. They had lost their home. They carried with them just a fraction of the tools, supplies, and food they had worked so hard to accumulate. So much had been lost in the fire.

The bloodshed of the previous night was also weighing on them. Their lives had been spared, and they knew they had been lucky. But they had been forced to kill, and it hardly felt like a victory.

“I think we should stay at this resort a couple of days,” Nick said, breaking the heavy silence. “We took so many twists and turns to get here. I doubt the gang will find us out here – if they’re still even looking for us after last night, which I doubt.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Charlie said. “Those bumpy roads are like torture for my shoulder. It would be nice to lay low and heal up a little before hitting the road again.”

“I wouldn’t mind staying a couple of days, either,” Bethany said. “The pace has been pretty grueling for me. And that’s the most comfortable bed I’ve slept on, ever.”

“So, we hang out here for a couple days. And then what?” Liz asked. “Head south to White Pine Falls?”

“You got it,” Nick said. “There’s a lot of work waiting for us down there. We’ve got to start all over.”

Trina looked uncomfortable. “Are you sure it’s okay if I come along too? I hate to be just another mouth to feed.”

“Are you kidding?” Jessa asked. “You fought out there with the rest of us. You risked your life. You’re part of us now.”

Nick nodded. “We’d be happy for you to come along, Trina.”

Trina smiled, leaning back in her chair. “Thanks; I appreciate it. I sure can’t go back to Denver.”

Nick stood up and walked to the window to look out at the empty parking lot. “It’ll be good to stay here for a while. I think we could all use a break. Just to be safe, though, we should have someone on watch at all times.”

“I agree. And I’ll take the first shift,” Jessa said, standing up with her empty plate.

“And I’ll take your plate,” Mia said, reaching out for Jessa’s dish and stacking it under her own.

“Thanks, kiddo,” Jessa said, smiling before she turned and headed to her post.

Nick watched her go, then he helped Mia gather up the dirty dishes and carry them to the kitchen.

“How are you holding up, Mia?” he asked as they walked through the long hall.

“I’m okay. Last night was pretty scary, though,” she said, her deep brown eyes darting up at him as they approached the kitchen. “Do you think we’ll be safe here?”

He smiled at her as he held the door open. “I do. I’ll make sure of it.”

Matt and Liz entered the kitchen behind them. Nick left the cleanup for the three of them.

“Thanks, guys. There’s something I need to take care of.”

Nick picked up his rifle where he had left it and slung it over his shoulder. He broke into an easy jog to catch up with Jessa.

One person on guard duty wasn’t enough. He needed to strategize with Jessa, survey the property, and devise a plan of defense – just in case.

Although Nick felt secure tucked away in their remote mountain retreat, some preparation would give him peace of mind. He had to do everything he could to keep the rest of the group safe.

After all, he had a family to protect.

* * *

Fight to be Free

Prologue

Without warning, a bullet blasted into the tree Nick stood next to, striking just inches from his face. The bark shattered. The impact sent slivers of wood flying all around him.

Nick dropped to the ground to dodge more rounds. Someone had fired at him from within the woods.

Suddenly, there was a second shooter. How many more were out there? What if they had found the cabin – and the people hiding inside?

Not that. Anything but that.

He had already lost everything once before. It couldn’t happen again. He had to get to the cabin before the attackers.

He returned the fire. One of the shooters was soon hit. He fell to the ground. The other kept shooting, then suddenly stopped.

Was he hit, too? Or just waiting?

The night was pitch black. Nick’s eyes strained to make out his surroundings in the forest. Everything was silent for one tense moment.

This had to end, right here. Nick gritted his teeth and opened fire again. He wasn’t going down without a fight.

1

One more day.

Nick Redmond watched the sun appear over the ridge before him. The morning light brought the gravel road into focus.

The long night was finally over.

Either they gave up on us, or we found a good place to hide.

Nick had spent the night on guard duty, watching for trouble that never happened. It was his group’s second night at the empty Colorado ski resort. So far, they had been lucky.

No cars driving up, no wanderers. Not a sound had emerged from the isolated mountains that surrounded the resort.

They were still reeling from the run-in with the BSC, a vicious Denver gang. Everyone was on edge. Every time the wind blew, they looked up, expecting to see an SUV full of blood-thirsty gang members drive up.

Nick scratched at the short beard he was growing. His eyes scanned up and down the dusty road. It was quiet and empty, just as it had been all night.

If any gang members were out looking for his group, they hadn’t tracked them down.

Not yet, anyway.

Nick was always on guard, even when he wasn’t on watch duty. He couldn’t relax until he got everyone to safety – or as far from the gang territory as possible.

If he had been alone, he would have already been across the Colorado state line. But his friends needed to rest. They had been through hell, and he couldn’t push them endlessly.

Just two days ago, they had fled their home in New Mexico as a forest fire scorched the area. After an encounter with the BSC gang in Denver, they had found Jessa.

But before they could escape, the BSC had found them. The gang had tracked the group down and ambushed them.

Nick’s group had made it out alive and fled the area. They found shelter at the empty ski lodge. Nick had led their four-vehicle convoy to the resort through hours of winding mountain roads. It had been an exhausting journey, but he hoped the distance from Denver and the isolated location would mean that the BSC wouldn’t find them.

Nick had promised they could stay two days to rest. Everyone needed to recover. Charlie, for one, was wiped out. His body was fighting infection and trying to repair itself from a gunshot wound in the shoulder.

The grueling pace and extreme stress had caught up to Bethany, who was heavily pregnant. She had barely left her bed except to eat.

Soon, she would have to face another long journey through the Rocky Mountains. They had to get back to New Mexico where they would be safer.

But Nick couldn’t ask Bethany to take that journey so soon. The last thing he wanted was to put her or her baby at risk.

No, they couldn’t leave just yet. For now, the ski resort was the best place for them.

Everything’s different now. No place is safe. Just a matter of hedging our bets.

His mind flashed to his grandfather’s lodge. He still couldn’t believe it was gone. Society had crumbled in mere days. And his world had fallen apart with it.

But he pushed that thought aside for now. There was no time for looking back. He had to steel himself for the journey to their new home. The sooner they could get there, the better.

Getting there might be the hardest part.

Murderous gangs weren’t the only reason they had to leave the area fast. Grueling work waited for them in New Mexico.

They’d need to locate – or build – a new place to live, get settled, and find food before winter came. If they didn’t get to work soon, they’d face a brutal winter unprepared.

And judging from the frigid night he had just endured, winter was coming early.

Starvation, hypothermia, disease. Nick shuddered, imagining everything that could go wrong if they didn’t have adequate shelter and food, and fast.

Mia had inventoried the food they had remaining. Their precious food stores had been sacrificed to the forest fire, and what they had left was a fraction of their original supplies. Including the food found in the kitchen of the resort, they had enough for about two weeks to feed the eight of them.

One more day of rest at the ski resort would have to be enough.

He squinted to see Matt at the southern entrance. His thirteen-year-old nephew was stationed among a stand of Douglas firs with his shotgun. Nick could just barely make him out.

Yesterday, he and Jessa had surveyed the property. They decided to station two people on watch at all times – one at each entrance to the resort. Matt had volunteered to take the graveyard shift with Nick. The teenager was eager to take on responsibility. Nick felt pride watching his nephew step up to the challenge. And anyway, Nick needed all the help he could get.

The front door of the main hotel opened, and Trina and Jessa walked out. Each had a rifle strap slung over a shoulder. They split up and headed to their designated guard stations. Trina would relieve Nick, and Jessa would replace Matt.

He hated to leave guard duty. But he couldn’t be on watch all the time. Besides, he trusted the others – especially Jessa – to keep things under control. Breakfast and a few hours’ sleep would do him good.

An unexpected noise made Nick snap his head back toward the road.

It couldn’t be.

For a second, he listened intently.

The unmistakable sound of car wheels on the dirt road reached him. He sprang to action, lifting his rifle up.

“Car!” he bellowed to Matt, Jessa, and Trina. He glanced back to see the two women take cover behind some posts near the front entrance of the hotel. Matt ducked behind a tree and clenched his firearm, waiting for the vehicle to appear.

Despite the cold, Nick felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead. The unseen vehicle continued its approach from the north.

Nick had shown everyone where to hide in a situation like this. None of them should be visible to a passing vehicle from the road. Their four trucks were parked out of sight behind the ski lodge. If they were lucky, the car would continue on without stopping.

Nick took a deep breath. His heart pounded in his chest. He waited, willing his body to be perfectly still. He had to remain unseen behind the thick tree trunks.

A white Dodge Grand Caravan appeared over the crest of the hill.

Nick’s thoughts were racing as he squinted in their direction. He spotted two men and a woman in the vehicle.

They didn’t look like the BSC. The gang members he had seen usually drove flashy SUVs or sports cars, not older minivans. Still, he didn’t make a move, hoping to remain unseen. The last thing they needed was visitors. He didn’t want any trouble, and his trust of strangers was at an all-time low.

A bead of sweat rolled down Nick’s face as the minivan approached. The woman in the passenger seat craned her neck to look at the ski lodge and said something to the driver.

The car slowed down, then came to a stop.

Nick watched them from his hiding place. The three people were talking to each other. They seemed to be discussing whether to turn into the driveway or not. His stomach clenched as he waited.

Finally, the driver turned into the north entrance, passing Nick’s spot by just a few dozen feet.

Once they had passed his location, Nick moved quietly through the woods to watch as they drove into the parking lot and parked near the main entrance of the hotel.

The driver, a young guy with blond hair wearing a plaid shirt, opened his door and stepped out. He looked around as he shoved his hands in the back pockets of his scrubby jeans.

“Hello!” the driver called out. “Anybody here?”

Nick moved to the edge of the forest, weighing his options. These people weren’t gang members, but something about them gave Nick a bad feeling.

They shouldn’t be here.

The woman emerged from the passenger side and slammed the door behind her. She wore flip-flops and shorts, and stood shivering with her arms crossed in front of her. Her bright red hair blew in the breeze.

“Hello!” she called.

A guy in a hoodie and jeans climbed out of the backseat and stood near the couple. He looked around nervously.

Nick watched as the three people, who couldn’t have been much more than teenagers, spoke amongst themselves. He strained to hear what they said.

“Go on, babe,” the girl said to the driver. “Let’s break in that door. No one’s here. We’ve got this big old fancy hotel to ourselves.”

She gave him a little push in the direction of the door, and the guy started off toward it.

Nick stepped out of the woods with his rifle raised. He took a few steps toward the three of them, then stopped in the parking lot.

“Hold it right there.”

2

Three heads whipped around to look at Nick. They were startled. The driver immediately threw his hands up and stood shaking. The other two stared at the man who had addressed them.

Jessa walked out from behind the post with her rifle aimed. The three newcomers turned toward the noise and locked eyes with Jessa.

The second guy, shorter and with a patchy beard, spoke up. “Whoa, we’re not looking for trouble.”

“You guys scared us to death,” the driver said. “We thought this place was empty,”

“Well, it’s not,” Nick said, taking a few steps closer. “So you’d best be on your way.”

“But we need help!” protested the young woman, looking between Nick and Jessa. “We have nowhere to go. We spent all last night driving around these mountains looking for someplace to stay.”

The driver, still with his hands in the air, nodded. “Yeah, there’s nothing out here, except for this ski lodge. We had to leave Denver. It’s overrun with gangs.”

“We know,” Jessa interjected.

“We just barely made it out of there. And around here there’s nowhere to live. This hotel is the first place we’ve seen in a while.”

Nick looked them over. They were underdressed for the cold, especially the girl. They seemed to be totally unprepared for much of anything, much less the end of the world.

“Can’t you spare a room for us to stay in?”

“I wish we could help you out,” Nick said. “But we’re in a tight spot ourselves. You’ll have to find somewhere else.”

There was no way Nick was going to let three strangers stay with them. The kids may have been harmless, but he wasn’t going to risk everyone’s safety for some newcomers. With what he’d been through the past few days, he couldn’t afford to trust anyone. Especially not when they could find their own housing if they looked hard enough.

Besides, the food stores were already low. Three new mouths to feed would just deplete the supplies faster.

“There are plenty of empty houses,” he said. “Just make it out to a bigger road, head south a little, and you’ll have your pick of places to stay.”

The young woman sighed. “But we’ve been all over,” she insisted. “We’re telling you, we haven’t seen anything.”

“You haven’t looked hard enough,” Jessa said. “Go down toward the New Mexico line. The gangs haven’t made it that far, and there are empty houses in every little town.”

The driver’s eyes darted between Jessa and Nick nervously. “It’s not just a place to stay that we need. We’re out of food.”

The second guy piped up. “Yeah, we’re super hungry. We have nothing left to eat.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you,” Nick said. “We don’t have enough as it is. You should be able to find something in the abandoned houses to the south.”

“But this is a matter of life and death,” the driver said. “My girlfriend here, Angie, is sick, and we haven’t eaten much for days. We might not make it out of these mountains.”

“We’ll die if you don’t give us food,” Angie said, her voice raising in tone. “Do you really want that on your conscience?”

Nick felt a twinge of guilt for refusing them food. He lowered his backpack off his shoulder, keeping his eyes on the three people. He found the snacks he’d brought to his guard duty that he hadn’t eaten – dried fruit and a few granola bars in a plastic bag. He tossed the plastic bag to the driver.

“Here, this will tide you over till you find more,” Nick said.

The driver caught the bag and looked up at Nick. “Are you serious? This is barely a snack.”

“Like I said, you’ll find something if you make it to the highway and go south. Do you have a map?”

Three heads shook no.

“I’ll give you directions. You have anything to write on?”

Angie and her boyfriend looked at each other while the other guy glanced at the minivan, trying to recall if a pen could be found in its messy interior.

A look of impatience came over the woman’s face, and she put her hands on her hips.

“You can’t spare any more food than that? I bet that hotel is just loaded with food,” she spat. “And I haven’t had meat in days.”

Nick just looked at her and kept his rifle ready. Maybe they were armed. He had learned not to make any assumptions.

Be ready for anything.

The driver looked at his girlfriend scowling at them. He became emboldened by her tone. He frowned as he finally lowered his hands.

“That’s pretty cold-hearted, man,” the driver said. “Won’t even help somebody out to keep them from starving.”

“We can offer you some water, but not any more food,” Jessa said.

“We have plenty of water, thank you very much,” the driver said. “There are springs in the woods, but no food.”

Angie turned toward the hotel, making big gestures with her arms as she spoke. “And you’re taking this whole place?” she asked mockingly. “It’s pretty big for just two people, ain’t it?”

Nick’s rifle was still raised. In his peripheral vision he could see the post where Trina hid. She hadn’t followed protocol. Instead of coming out to confront the newcomers as they had practiced, she had remained hidden.

“We’re not alone,” Nick said.

“We’re just three people,” he said. “Surely there’s room for three more in that big hotel. Don’t you know how to share?”

Nick glanced at the second guy. He seemed uncomfortable as he stared at the ground, then met Nick’s gaze briefly before turning to the driver.

“Come on, Patrick, let’s find something else,” he said.

Patrick gave him a look. “Shut up, Josh.”

Nick had to keep from rolling his eyes at their childish antics. He knew the trio would find food if they tried hard enough. Besides, he couldn’t give them any more food from their supplies. Bethany was eating for two. Matt and nine-year-old Mia were growing. How could he take meals away from them?

And what if Nick’s group were somehow trapped in the hotel and couldn’t get to more food? The gang could find them, or weather could delay their departure. He couldn’t jeopardize their lives by giving away their food supplies.

“You kids are wasting my time. Get out of here if you know what’s good for you.”

Angie’s eyes narrowed as she stared Nick down. She was seething with rage at being denied what they wanted.

“You heard the man,” Jessa said steadily.

Patrick looked at her rifle, then back at Nick, before kicking at a rock on the ground. “Fine, let’s go, babe. Some people are just so selfish they can’t help anybody else out.”

He opened the car door and hopped in, slamming his door. Angie did the same.

The quiet one, Josh, looked at Nick.

“Can – can I get those directions?”

Nick nodded. “Got a pen?”

Josh opened the sliding door and rifled through a bag in the backseat of the minivan. Out of the corner of his eye, Nick saw Trina slip inside the front door of the hotel quietly.

Josh found a pen, but no paper. He wrote the directions Nick gave him on his arm.

“Thanks, man,” he said before climbing in the backseat. Nick nodded and met the driver’s steely gaze before he started the engine up.

The front door of the hotel flew open and Trina ran out.

“Wait!” she shouted, running up to Angie’s open window.

Trina held out a few items of clothing toward the young woman. “Something to keep you from freezing.”

Angie’s eyes met Trina’s for a second. Then she looked down at the clothes and muttered a quiet thank you.

Nick watched as the minivan drove through the parking lot and turned to the south on the gravel road. Once it was out of sight, Matt retreated from his watch station and crossed the distance to join the rest of the group. By then, Mia and Liz had emerged from the hotel and were getting caught up on what had happened.

“Nice job, Matt,” Nick said to his nephew. “You stuck to the plan.”

Nick gave Trina a little smile.

She threw her hands in the air. “I know, I know. I didn’t follow the protocol.”

“You did fine, Trina,” Nick said. “You probably saved that girl from freezing. We’ll go over the protocol again later. For now, I want you to take your watch duty in the rear kitchen entrance.”

“Okay, that’s a new one,” Trina said. “But who’s going to be on guard at the north entrance? It was my turn to be there.”

“I will,” Nick answered.

“Nick, you’ve been on watch all night,” Jessa said. “You need to sleep.”

“I can sleep later,” Nick said. “I want to be around just in case our visitors decide to make a stupid mistake like coming back.”

3

“Did you see the look on that guy’s face?” Patrick asked as he drove the minivan down the road. “Who’d he think he was, Dirty Harry?”

Angie put on her new sweatshirt. “I mean, it’s pretty nice that lady gave me some clothes. But we needed food, too. Like, real food.”

“Yeah, and a place to stay,” Patrick answered. “What a bastard that guy was. They have that big hotel all to themselves and they couldn’t let us stay the night.”

As he drove, he distributed the food, then tore into his own ration.

Josh gobbled down his fruit and granola bar. He leaned his head back in his seat. The energy flooded into his body and made him feel a little better. But he knew the hunger would come back quickly.

He had been desperate for food all night. Maybe the guy at the hotel was right. Maybe they could find something once they got to a highway.

He saw a road sign and looked at the directions scrawled on his arm.

“That’s it!” Josh said, leaning forward to direct Patrick. “Here’s the road that’ll lead us to the highway. That guy said to turn left here.”

Patrick gave Angie a smile. Then he turned right.

“No, left,” Josh said. “Left will take us to the highway.”

“We’re not going to the highway, Josh,” Patrick said.

Josh felt a chill. “What? Why not? We have to get more food–”

“Oh, we’re getting food,” Patrick interrupted. “Don’t worry about that, Joshie boy.”

A smile spread over Angie’s face. “Are we going back there?”

“You know it, babe,” Patrick said. “I’m gonna get the food they should have given to us in the first place.”

Angie let out an excited squeal. “That’s why I love you, baby! You’re so crazy!”

Patrick smirked. “But first we’ve got to scope things out and make a plan. I think we can get a view from that ridge up there.”

Josh’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “Let’s just go to the highway and get food from empty houses like that guy said, Patrick. This is crazy. You want to steal from those people?”

Patrick clenched the steering wheel. “It’s what they deserve, turning us away like that. Heartless cowards. They’ll get what’s coming to them.”

“Did you see those guns they had? How are we going to take them on? We don’t have any weapons, Patrick.”

“With my brains, we don’t need weapons.”

Angie squealed again and leaned over to plant a kiss on her boyfriend’s cheek.

Josh collapsed against the seat back in exasperation. It was an insane idea, but he couldn’t talk any reason into those two. How had he ended with up this pair of psychos?

Just three weeks ago he had been a community college student in Denver. He worked hard, determined to get ahead and have a good career. He was getting top grades in his computer science classes even while working full-time at a supermarket.

When everyone around him started dropping like flies from the Hosta virus, the violence started. The BSC and Los Pumas were battling for resources and territory, and it became more and more dangerous to leave the house. The gangs either killed people or sent them to work on forced labor camps.

Then his 4Runner was stolen while he was sleeping in his big apartment building. When his food ran out, he had no choice but to try to leave Denver on foot.

In Stonegate, the BSC had nearly caught him. He was running through backyards and climbing fences, trying to lose a couple of gang members who were chasing him, when a minivan pulled up. The back door slid open.

“Get in!” a woman’s voice had called to him.

And that was how he got all mixed up with Patrick and Angie.

They had saved his life, and he was grateful to them for picking him up. But they kept making bad choices, one after another. They had gotten lost in the mountains, ignoring every idea that Josh had to get them to shelter and find food. Now they were in a remote area of the high country with no food.

Getting the directions to the highway had been a godsend. It meant they would get out of this endless range and back into the remains of civilization. They could raid some abandoned house for canned goods, if nothing else.

But, no. Patrick was obsessed with getting revenge. He wanted to put their lives in danger to steal food from those people at the ski resort.

The stress of a crazy situation had gotten to them all. But it seemed to change Patrick and Angie the most. It was making them become monsters.

Josh watched as Patrick steered the minivan up the steep road that curved up and behind the ski lodge. He tried again to talk some sense into the guy.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Josh said. “This could get us killed. It doesn’t make any sense to steal food when we can get it from some empty house south of here.”

“It’s not just the food, you know,” Angie said, turning around in her seat to face Josh. “It’s the principle of the thing.”

“That’s exactly right, sugar,” Patrick said, stroking Angie’s cheek tenderly. “That guy needs to be taught a lesson. He can’t disrespect me – and my lady – and get away with it.”

Patrick flashed his icy gaze at Josh in the rearview. “That’s something you don’t understand, Josh,” Patrick said coolly.

“What’s that?”

“Honor,” Patrick said.

Josh grabbed his aching stomach. He had a bad feeling about this.

4

Daniel Parker stood in front of a dusty old adobe house. The sun had already been up for a while now.

He was late.

He carried his 20-gauge shotgun and set out swiftly across the patch of dirt that comprised the front yard of the adobe. He wanted to get to the edge of town, where the alfalfa field met the tree line. The town wasn’t much to speak of, just a few scattered houses. It wasn’t long before he came to the alfalfa field.

He slowed his pace, taking a few steps, then pausing. He crept across the field with his gun in the ready position, but he spotted nothing.

At the edge of the forest, he heard a slight movement among the saplings. Then, he saw it.

A rabbit dashed out from the brush. Daniel aimed and fired without pausing to think.

The shot rang around the hills, sending some birds scattering from the trees overhead.

Daniel approached the kill and placed a hand on the cottontail’s soft fur. He always thanked the animal for its meat, just as his great-grandfather had taught him.

This meat was especially important.

It would help his mother heal.

She needed to get better quickly. The work waiting for them in White Pine Falls weighed on his mind, but what worried him most was her health.

The past two days, Daniel and his mother, Anne, had been in quarantine in this deserted town.

It all began when they had been driving with the rest of the Watlah tribe from Los Gatos. They were fleeing the wildland fire, headed toward White Pine Falls in the northwest. There, they would build a new home with the rest of his people. There, they would meet Nick, the man who had saved his life, and the friends Nick had taken in. Knowing that Nick’s lodge would burn in the fire like their own home, Daniel’s family had invited their new friends to join them.

But somewhere along the way, Anne had taken ill. It was near the end of the several hour journey through the night. Daniel had been driving the old single cab Nissan truck with his mother in the passenger seat. It came on all of a sudden, intense and acute. She became dizzy and weak with nausea and fatigue.

Daniel fought back panic.

They couldn’t continue.

Daniel flagged down his dad, who was driving another vehicle with Daniel’s siblings. From a safe distance, Daniel explained the situation.

No one said aloud what they all feared. No one used the words Hosta virus.

But they agreed that Daniel and Anne should go into quarantine.

They were just being precautious, they assured each other. It was just a bad cold, brought on by the cooler temperatures. Surely she would feel better in a couple days. Just in case, though, she and Daniel, who had been in close proximity in the same vehicle, would have to stay away from the rest of the tribe while she recovered.

That night, Daniel had driven to the nearest town, a small community called Robinson. While his mother had waited in the truck, he had checked out several houses before he found one they could use as temporary lodging.

Anne had slept for much of the past two days they’d spent in quarantine. Her condition hadn’t improved, Daniel noted nervously. But he was relieved to observe her normal skin tone and temperature. As long as her skin didn’t take on that horrible, damning shade of gray, there was still hope.

There was so much that didn’t make sense to Daniel. With his mind swimming, his thoughts turned to the events of the past few weeks.

When the Hosta virus had begun to decimate most of the outside world, Daniel’s people had cloistered themselves off. They avoided any contact with people from outside their town for weeks, keeping visitors out by force. They had even stopped hunting to avoid contact with infected wild animals. Daniel’s great-grandfather, a tribal elder named Edward, called it the Dying Time.

But when Daniel had been injured in the woods, he was found by Nick and Charlie, who lived near Los Gatos. Daniel had no choice but to accept life-saving help from the two outsiders. The two men had been exposed to the Hosta virus and were still alive, so they couldn’t have been carriers of the illness. To be safe, though, Daniel had gone into quarantine for three days. Showing no symptoms, he had rejoined his family.

The tribe assumed the Dying Time had ended, and they began to welcome Nick’s group into their village.

Had it been a mistake after all to make contact with outsiders? What if Daniel had infected his family with this horrible disease?

The thought was unbearable. No, it couldn’t be true. He couldn’t have infected his community with the Hosta.

Besides, no one else in the village had shown signs of the illness. Yes, there had to be some other explanation for his mother’s sudden illness.

Daniel dressed the rabbit and brought it home. He planned to boil the bones for a nutritious broth, then add the meat and some onions and potatoes he’d found in a root cellar to make a stew.

His mother was puttering around the kitchen when he got home. She looked up at him guiltily as he walked in the door. He was stooped over to avoid hitting his head in the low doorframe.

“Mom, you should be in bed,” he chided her as he looked up.

She managed a smile. His mother looked fatigued, but still beautiful with her soft, shining eyes and long, black hair pulled back on her head.

“I can’t sleep all day, Daniel. I need something to do to keep busy.”

He watched as she reached for a pot of water, then struggled to lift it. She was too weak.

Daniel’s heart sank.

“Let me do that,” he said.

“I guess I’m weaker than I thought,” she said, disappointed. She moved to the living room to stretch out on the couch.

Daniel arranged some kindling and small logs in the wood-burning stove. Once the fire was going, he set the pot of water on the stovetop to boil and began to chop the vegetables.

“It didn’t take long to find this cottontail at all,” he called to her from the kitchen. “The virus took out a bunch of rabbits, but I think the survivors are starting to make a comeback. It doesn’t take them long to bounce back, you know.”

He cringed when he realized what he’d said. He hadn’t meant to bring up the Hosta virus to his mother. It was a sensitive subject, and he didn’t want her to think about it.

“Sorry, Mom,” he said. “I didn’t mean to bring up –”

He cut himself off and walked into the living room. His mother had already fallen asleep.

She looked so frail and weak. He had never seen her like this. She had always been strong.

Daniel turned away sadly, pushing his worries out of his mind for now.

She would recover.

She had to.

5

Liz and Mia looked up from the stack of dirty dishes to see Trina enter the kitchen with a rifle slung over her shoulder.

“Guard duty back here begins already?” Liz asked.

“Yep, Nick’s already back at the front entrance,” Trina said as she grabbed a few raisins. “Frankly, I think it’s a little silly to add more guard shifts. I don’t think those three kids are coming back.”

Liz scrubbed some oatmeal off a bowl. “I don’t know. I think we’ve all learned you can’t be too cautious these days.”

“They’re just kids,” Trina said. “They’re not going to do anything. And anyway, we should have given them more food.”

Liz shook her head. “I disagree.”

“It’s not right to turn our backs on people in need like that. We have enough to spare,” Trina said.

She looked at Mia, who knew the food inventory best, for confirmation. But Mia looked down at the plate she was drying.

“You did a good thing giving the girl some clothes,” Liz said.

Trina shrugged. “I didn’t need so many clothes, anyway.”

“Right. But we do need all the food we have,” Liz replied. “Besides, they’ll find some food once they get out of the mountains and find a town.”

Trina sighed.

“I understand where you’re coming from,” Liz said. “I hate turning people away, too. But we gave them a snack, some clothes and told them how to find more food. That was the best we could do. It’s tough, but we have to look out for ourselves.”

“I guess so,” Trina said noncommittally as she walked to the back door to begin her six-hour guard shift.

Liz and Mia stayed behind to finish the cleanup after breakfast. Mia listened as Liz recounted the plot of a new book she was reading.

Liz put away the last dry plate and tossed the dish towel on the counter. She removed the hairpin from her updo and let her dark brown hair tumble down her shoulders.

“Okay, we’re finally done here. I’m going to take a nap before I have to take the afternoon watch. What are you going to do, kiddo?”

Mia shrugged. “Not sure. Read, I guess. But first I’m going to see if Bethany wants the oatmeal I saved for her.”

Liz watched as Mia picked up the bowl of oatmeal she had set aside for Bethany. It was covered with a clean dish towel.

“Ask her if she feels up to cooking lunch today,” Liz said as she held the door open for Mia and they walked down the hall.

Mia nodded and watched as Liz retreated to her room. Bethany had moved to her own room across the hall so she wouldn’t be disturbed by Liz’s and Mia’s comings and goings.

Mia took a deep breath, then knocked on Bethany’s door.

“Come in,” Bethany called.

Mia pushed the door open to see Bethany lying in bed, awake but groggy. Bethany smiled when she saw Mia open the door. With considerable difficulty, Bethany rolled over and sat up in bed with her back against the headboard. Her brown ringlets created a mane of hair around her head.

She groaned. “It’s so hard to move with this big belly,” she said.

Her eyes got big when she saw the bowl of oatmeal Mia held out to her. “Ooh, food! Thank you.”

“It’s just oatmeal,” Mia said. “And it’s kind of cold. Sorry.”

Bethany waved her concern away. “As long as it’s food, I don’t care. I mean, I don’t think we have any cheeseburgers or salt and vinegar potato chips, so this will have to do.” She began to eat, smiling up at Mia as the child sat on the opposite bed and looked at Bethany.

“I didn’t see you at breakfast,” Mia said.

“Yeah, I slept in again,” Bethany said. “I wasn’t ready to get out of bed just yet.”

“Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m pretty exhausted. All that craziness in Denver took its toll. But I’m okay. I just need to rest some more before we hit the road tomorrow.”

Mia studied her face as the woman ate. The little girl had been watching Bethany closely since they had met. Mia was relieved to note that she never saw any trace of discoloration in Bethany’s skin. Her eyes were normal. None of that horrible bulging like Mia had seen in her parents’ eyes.

“Is it warm in here to you?” Mia asked.

Bethany looked at her. “Are you serious? It’s freezing! That’s another reason I don’t want to get out of bed.”

Mia agreed: the room was chilly. So Bethany’s internal temperature regulation was working. The child tried to ask the next question as casually as possible.

“You don’t have any joint pain, do you?”

Bethany looked up mid-bite. “My ankles are pretty swollen, but that’s normal for thirty-seven weeks of pregnancy. Why do I feel like you’re giving me a prenatal check-up?”

Mia forced a laugh. “I don’t know, I just thought someone should make sure you’re doing okay.”

Bethany smiled. “Well, don’t worry. Everything’s fine. Baby is still kicking. And I’m hanging in there, too. I just get tired easily now.”

Bethany finished her breakfast and set the bowl on the nightstand. “But I’m going to get up and cook lunch today. It’s the least I can do. I know everyone’s taking two or three guard shifts a day so that Charlie and I can rest. I feel guilty that I’m holding everybody behind.”

Mia shook her head. “No, it’s okay. And it’s just a couple of days, anyway.”

Mia figured that Bethany hadn’t heard the commotion of the visitors earlier that morning. She decided not to tell Bethany, either. No sense in worrying her.

Bethany ran her hands over her belly and looked out the window. “I hope we can get to wherever we’re going without any more problems.”

“Me, too.”

Bethany grew quiet. She stared out the window, her eyes scanning the mountains beyond the hotel.

“What are you going to name the baby?” Mia asked.

Bethany turned to Mia, as if waking from a dream. “Nathan. After his daddy.” Bethany sighed. “I wish he would have made it.”

She reached out to squeeze Mia’s arm. “No use in me getting wrapped up in the past, I guess. Thanks for breakfast.”

“Sure thing.”

“I’m going to walk around a little. Do you want to go check on Charlie with me?”

“Yeah, that’s where I was going next,” Mia said.

“Let me get dressed, okay? Meet me back here in ten minutes.”

Mia nodded and left Bethany in the room alone, closing the door behind her.

Mia darted down the hall and ducked into the library, where she pulled the medical journal out of its hiding place behind a stack of encyclopedias. She hadn’t wanted anyone to know she’d been studying the article on the effects of the Ebola virus on pregnancy. It would have been more stress for everyone, especially Bethany.

The article was disappointing, though. It didn’t have much useful information for Mia about how viruses worked. No matter how many times she read and re-read the article, it didn’t answer her questions.

Would Bethany’s baby – having been fathered by a Hosta victim – be born healthy?

And would he be a carrier of the disease?

These questions had been haunting Mia since she laid eyes on Bethany’s protruding belly. But the literature Mia had access to wasn’t enough to help her figure it out.

The nine-year-old found herself at a dead end. Not wanting to bother anyone else, Mia was left to worry over these questions alone.

6

At midnight, Trina dragged herself out of bed and to the new guard station just outside the rear entrance of the kitchen.

She pushed open the back door to see Charlie sitting in the chair outside.

“Nick’s got you on watch, too?” Trina asked.

Charlie grinned. “I wanted to. I felt so useless lying in bed all day.”

He grimaced as he stood up, jostling his injured shoulder in the process. Trina moved to help him to his feet, but he waved her off.

“Thanks, but I’m okay.”

“How’s your shoulder doing?” Trina asked.

“It’s all right, I guess. I don’t look at it when Jessa changes the dressing. I learned that the hard way,” Charlie said as he straightened out. “But it’s not infected, I don’t think. And the good news is that I can still shoulder a rifle on my right side.”

“It’s the little things in life that count,” Trina said lightly.

He chuckled. “Yeah. Well, you got this?”

Trina nodded. “All ready to freeze out here for the next six hours.”

“You know how important this is, right?” Charlie asked.

“Of course I do.”

Trina smiled at Charlie. She watched as he pivoted his boots in the gravel and shuffled back inside the kitchen.

She sighed and settled into the chair they had stationed to be partially hidden in a stand of trees.

She hadn’t wanted to leave the warmth of her bed that night. The three guards stationed around the hotel seemed like overkill to her. No one else was going to come through here. It was too isolated for the BSC to find them.

In the morning, she and the seven others would hit the road for New Mexico. They should all be getting some sleep instead of sitting up outside all night.

But it was more than guard duty that had Trina down. The truth was that she had been struggling. Now that the group had gotten to a safe place, she’d had time and space to think. And the more time she spent alone, the more she realized she couldn’t outrun what had happened.

The events of the last couple of weeks had hit her.

Hard.

Her family was gone. One by one, they had gotten sick from Hosta and died before her eyes. Her two daughters, her son, her husband: her whole world. She was lost without them.

Trina had been trying to hide it from everyone else, but she couldn’t deny it any longer. The crushing, unbearable grief had caught up to her.

And then there was the matter of the run-ins with the BSC. Being captured by those two men, then running for her life. The horror of being attacked by so many gang members at Chris’s cabin.

She had shot a man.

It had been in self-defense, of course. But still, she had taken someone’s life.

It was a lot to swallow. She didn’t know how life could ever feel good, or even safe, again.

Trina spent the next couple of hours alternating between sitting and pacing back and forth behind the hotel. She fought back sleepiness and tried to remain alert.

She sat down. Once again, her thoughts turned to her children. She saw her firstborn, her older daughter, when she was tiny and new. Her younger daughter dancing, her son cracking a joke. Her husband smiling at her.

She closed her eyes and remembered them all, reliving those precious moments with her family.

Her eyes flew open at a shuffling sound of the gravel in the parking lot. It was too close, too loud.

But before she could even bring her rifle up, hands grabbed her. Something was stuffed inside her mouth, some kind of fabric, and it made her gag. At the same time, her rifle was removed and her hands bound behind her in the chair. She fought as best she could, but there were three people keeping her restrained.

Everything was happening so fast, and she only saw flashes. But the red hair whipping around and the plaid shirts were enough to confirm her suspicions. The three kids from earlier in the morning were back.

Trina had been wrong about them.

7

“No one gets hurt, right?”

Josh had asked before they descended on the hotel.

Angie and Patrick nodded.

“No one gets hurt. We just get some food, and teach that guy about generosity,” Patrick said.

“Yeah, and if it’s so easy to find more food, then they can jump in any one of their trucks and go get some,” Angie said.

That morning, they had parked the minivan out of sight on the ridge above the ski lodge. They walked through the woods to where they could survey the property and form a plan.

Using a pair of binoculars Patrick had, they studied the movements of the people below. There seemed to be only five or six of them, because they all rotated through three different watch stations.

Everything those people did was orderly and fair. They were organized and divided the work equally. The tidiness of the operations seemed to infuriate Patrick and Angie even more. The couple was determined to rob the group staying at the ski lodge.

Josh protested as much as he could. He offered a hundred reasons why it was a bad idea, how it could go wrong, and what they could do instead. The two lovebirds refused to listen.

After a while, Josh knew there was no way out of it. If he didn’t help execute the plan, the couple would kick him out and leave him to fend for himself. And where would that leave him? Deserted, starving and alone in the middle of the wilderness. No, he’d have to go along with the robbery.

And at that point, he’d do almost anything to eat. The relief from the granola bar didn’t last long. Soon, the gnawing hunger returned. It was a painful, nauseating hunger. Each hour that passed without food made it harder to think clearly.

They learned where the guard stations were. One at the back door behind the main hotel, and one at each entrance from the road. That jerk, when he was on duty, took the northern entrance, and either a woman or some kid took the southern entrance.

It was the middle of the night when Patrick decided to make their move. The jerk and the skinny woman were by the front entrances. The woman who had given Angie some clothes was in the rear.

Everyone on watch had a gun, it was true. But all they had to do was sneak up on one guard, steal her gun, and then they’d be home free. Patrick was the only one who knew how to shoot, so he’d be in charge of the rifle.

The trio moved through the woods on the steep slope carefully. They had to be as quiet as possible, which made descending through the forest in the dark even more difficult. One bad step, and they could slip, which could mean the end of everything. Any noise would alert the people on guard below.

Patrick led the way, placing his feet carefully, with Angie behind him. Every so often they would stop and listen, scanning their eyes to see any kind of reaction below. So far, there was none.

They approached the lady at the back entrance. Patrick and Angie couldn’t help but grin when they saw she was sleeping.

This would be too easy.

They stepped lightly across the driveway, drawing nearer to the guard. When they were close enough to grab her, they flew into motion.

In the split second before they grabbed her, the lady’s eyes flew open. Angie saw she wasn’t sleeping, after all. She was silently crying.

A pang of guilt leapt up Angie’s throat, but there was no time for that. She pushed down any emotion as she stuffed a scarf in the woman’s mouth while the guys restrained her. She put a strip of duct tape over her mouth to keep her quiet.

Josh and Patrick picked up the chair with the lady tied to it and moved her a few feet over to the woods where she wouldn’t be in the way. Angie lingered for half a second to watch as the woman struggled helplessly, fighting against the rope, then she spun around to help the guys.

They walked in the back door to the kitchen, and Patrick clicked on a flashlight.

Josh’s heart was pounding out of his chest. They could be caught at any minute. Maybe there were more people inside the hotel that they hadn’t seen. Maybe that guy with the semi-automatic would see the flashlight in the kitchen and come around to check things out.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he pressed himself on. Better to get this over with and try to get out of there.

They didn’t have to go far before they found shelves full of food. Some of it was in cardboard boxes, which would make it easier to move. What items weren’t in boxes, Josh and Patrick began to load up in their empty backpacks. Angie had moved on to her next task: finding the truck keys.

She took the flashlight from Patrick and swept it over the counters and the wall space above them. She just knew they would have the keys in some logical, orderly place. That was just the kind of people these were.

The light panned over a rack with cup hooks full of keys. Bingo. Some sets belonged to the hotel, but the last four hooks held vehicle keys. And the very last hook held exactly what she was looking for.

The Silverado keys.

They had already decided the Silverado was the best choice. It had the most supplies in it, and it looked to be in the best shape, too. It would get them far away from these mountains and give them plenty of gear they needed.

Angie snatched the keys off the hook and grabbed one of the boxes of food. The two guys followed her, moving swiftly but silently. Angie caught a glimpse of the woman they had left in the woods. She was still struggling to get free. Angie quickly looked away.

They nestled the goods in among the gear in the bed of the pickup, and opened the cab doors.

Josh took another deep breath as he climbed in the back seat. Once they started the engine, they would alert the very well-armed people of their presence. They would have to get out of there fast.

Angie inserted the key and started the engine. The three of them closed their doors as Angie peeled off, steering around the back of the hotel and swerving as she pulled the heavy truck around to the front of the hotel.

8

Nick paced back and forth among the Douglas firs at the southern entrance. It was another long, cold night. Just a few more hours, though. Once his shift was over, he’d take a quick nap inside, and then he’d be ready for the long drive home.

Home. He didn’t have much of a home anymore, not since the fire burned his lodge and property in New Mexico.

But Nick was grateful for Daniel’s invitation to join the Watlah tribe in White Pine Falls. At least they had some place to live. It would be an enormous work to rebuild and replant, but they would have friends and a community to make the work that much easier.

First, though, they had to make it alive out of Colorado.

He heard a faint noise from Liz at the northern entrance. She was probably pacing back and forth like he was, trying to fight the drowsiness of the long, uneventful night. They had swapped entrances and moved their guard stations around. They had to keep it fresh.

He thought he heard something from the rear entrance, but he figured it was Trina moving around. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had ducked inside the kitchen to grab a quick snack. But he couldn’t fault her for it. He might have done the same thing had he been on watch back there.

But then he heard something odd. It sounded like an engine starting.

That shouldn’t be happening.

He immediately became alert, his body tensing as he brought his self-built rifle into the ready position. His eyes searched the parking lot, straining in the darkness to see any movement.

The engine revved. It sounded like his Silverado. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of the truck speeding off from its parked position.

He ducked behind a tree and looked through his scope again. It couldn’t be anyone from his group taking his truck out for a drive.

He knew exactly who it was.

The truck careened around the back of the hotel and came into view. Before he could shoot, Nick had to be sure it was them. He had to identify them.

Luckily, that didn’t take long. He saw the woman driving, leaning forward with a crazed look in her eyes. And her boyfriend was riding beside her with Trina’s rifle aimed out the window.

In an instant, he knew everything. They weren’t just trying to steal his truck. They must have gone inside the kitchen to steal their food. These kids must have thought Nick owed them something. They thought they were somehow entitled to what Nick and his friends had worked so hard to find?

They could think again.

He switched off the safety and moved his finger to the trigger in one swift motion as the truck headed in his direction. He fired at the tires. But he must have missed his target, because the truck didn’t slow down at all.

Suddenly the lights flashed on, blinding Nick temporarily as the high beams shone on him. The passenger fired at him, missing by a wide margin. The truck abruptly changed its course, swerving toward the northern entrance.

Nick fired several more times, aiming at the tires, but the truck continued on. Liz opened fire on the truck, but she was no longer by her station. She must have run through the woods between the two entrances when she saw the thieves were headed in Nick’s direction with the intention of getting a better shot. But now, the trio had an unguarded entrance to use as an exit. Nick and Liz fired several more rounds, both of them moving through the woods to get a clear shot.

But the truck was hard to see as it moved down the driveway with trees partially covering it.

In no time, the Silverado turned onto the road, headed north. The tail lights soon disappeared from their view.

They were too late.

Nick felt a hot rage come over him as his heart continued to race.

Liz ran up to him, carrying her rifle in her hands and panting for breath.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, bending over to catch her breath. “They didn’t hit me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go find Trina. Those little bastards better not have hurt her.”

Before they could even cross the parking lot, Jessa, Charlie and Matt were all outside with guns. Jessa kept watch in the front while the rest of them went to look for Trina.

It didn’t take long to find her.

Liz gasped when her flashlight beam found Trina, toppled over in her chair, still gagged and tied to her seat.

“You poor thing!” Liz exclaimed, removing the tape that had been applied over her mouth and the scarf that was stuffed inside it.

Trina gasped for breath. They helped her to her feet after Nick cut the rope.

“Are you injured?” he asked.

She rubbed her wrists where the rope had been tied. “I fell over on my hip and shoulder pretty hard, but I’m okay. Nothing broken.”

She looked up at the faces above her. “I screwed up. I’m sorry. They took everything, didn’t they?”

Nick didn’t answer. Instead, he raced inside and snapped on his head lamp. A feeling of strangulation gripped his throat as he looked at the bare shelves.

Most of their food was gone. The trio of thieves had taken everything Nick's group had rescued from the New Mexico lodge, plus the food they had found in the hotel. The teens had only overlooked some items left on the kitchen counter: a couple of quarts of shelf-stable milk, some oatmeal, and two cans of soup. It was barely enough for everyone to have one small meal.

Nick turned to see Trina and the others behind him.

“They left us to starve,” Charlie said, furious. “They took almost all the food.”

“And the truck, too,” Liz said, her voice rising. “And all the supplies in the truck. The camping gear, the gardening tools. There was so much we needed in that Silverado.”

“We’ve gotta go after them,” Charlie said, gripping his gun. “We can catch them if we leave now. Who’s coming with me?”

“I’ll go!” Matt said with a determined frown on his face. “We can’t let them just get away with this.”

Nick ran a hand through his hair. “I want to go after them too, but we need to be logical. They’re armed now, and they have a five-minute head start.”

“That’s why we need to leave now!” Charlie insisted. He grabbed Matt’s dad’s Ford keys. “I’ll drive, Nick, and you take shotgun.”

Nick started to protest. He could explain why it wasn’t smart to go on a wild goose chase after some armed, crazed teenagers. He could argue they shouldn’t split up the group and risk getting lost in the twisting mountain roads after dark.

But then an image of those three little monsters laughing as they drove down the road flashed in his mind. They had stolen his vehicle, his gear, and nearly all the food he and his friends needed to survive. All because those kids were too lazy and dim-witted to find supplies for themselves.

The wild, blinding rage came back over him, clouding his vision again.

“Let’s go,” he said.

9

Patrick let out a victory whoop.

“Awesome driving, babe!”

He leaned over and gave Angie a kiss.

“When I saw that guy in our exit, I had to think fast,” Angie said, beaming. “I was afraid I was gonna flip the truck when I jerked the wheel over like that.”

“You almost did,” Josh said from the backseat. “God, Patrick, I hope you didn’t actually shoot anybody back there.”

Patrick threw a glance over his shoulder. “Dude. You ought to be glad you didn’t get shot. Didn’t you notice them trying to shoot us with their rifles? Anyway, even if I did hit somebody, I didn’t kill them. They were both shooting at us the whole time.”

Josh leaned back. He could still see that lady trying to get free after they’d tied her up. He hoped she was all right.

“What are you waiting for, Josh?” Angie’s harsh voice jolted him. “Break out the food!”

Josh jumped into action. Somehow he had forgotten that there were things to eat now. He dug into his backpack that he had filled at the hotel and found some candy bars. He passed a couple up front and tore into one himself.

The sugar hit his bloodstream and he felt immediately better. He scarfed down the candy, then tore open a bag of trail mix, cramming big handfuls in his mouth before passing the bag up front.

“We’ve got a lot of cans of soup, don’t we?” Angie asked, smiling as she hunched over the steering wheel. “Maybe we could make a fire in the woods somewhere and heat a can up. Doesn’t that sound good – hot soup?”

“Sure does,” Patrick agreed. “But first we’ve gotta get to where they won’t find us. We don’t want them tracking us down, do we?”

“Of course not, honey lips,” Angie said in a voice so sweet it made Josh feel nauseous. She leaned over for another kiss, almost losing control of the truck in the process, but straightening out on the gravel road just in time.

Josh looked out the window. Now that he had food in his system, he could think a little more clearly.

He made a silent vow to himself. He was going to find a way to break free of Patrick and Angie the first chance he got.

“Matt, you stay here,” Nick said as he and Charlie walked out to the Ford.

“Let me go, too,” Matt pleaded.

“I need you here to help pack up whatever’s left. We have to leave as soon as we get the truck back,” Nick said. “We need people packing and people on watch.”

“But don’t you need another gun for this mission?” Matt said. “Charlie will be driving.”

Nick looked at his nephew. He hated to put the kid at risk, but after all, it was Matt’s family’s truck. Matt had taken so many risks to get out west. Nick couldn’t treat him like a child anymore.

“Get in,” he said. “But stay down as much as you can.”

They got in the Ford and drove through the parking lot. Nick nodded at Jessa as they drove past. He knew that she’d keep a good watch on the place while they were gone.

Charlie drove as fast as he could while keeping the truck in control. They headed north, in the direction the Silverado had disappeared.

Nick knew that the thieves had already put several miles in between them. His only hope was that the thieves’ ignorance would cause them to make a bad enough decision. With a little luck, he’d catch up to them.

They had to get their food and that truck back. Their survival depended on it.

Liz ran down the central hall of the hotel. She entered her own room, heading straight for the closet. She slid the door open and saw Mia crouched inside.

Mia had dutifully followed protocol and hid when she heard shooting. She knew to stay out of sight until a member of the group went to find her.

The girl threw her arms around Liz’s neck, and Liz could feel her trembling in fear.

“It’s all right,” Liz said soothingly. “No one’s hurt.”

She brushed a strand of dark brown hair out of Mia’s eyes. The child’s big eyes looked up at her.

“Who was shooting?”

There was no sugarcoating the situation, so Liz told her straight. “Those three people from earlier stole Nick’s truck. They took most of our food, and Trina’s rifle, plus all the gear from the truck. And now the guys are off trying to get it back.”

Mia looked down and fidgeted nervously. “I wish they weren’t doing that. It sounds dangerous.”

Liz had to agree. She hadn’t liked the idea from the beginning. “I know, but all we can do now is hope for the best. As soon as they get back, we’re going to leave. Back to New Mexico. Then everything will be better, okay?”

Mia nodded. “So we need to pack up?”

“Yep,” Liz said. “I’m going to be on watch outside the kitchen, just in case anything bad happens. You and Trina can be in charge of packing up.”

“What about Bethany?” Mia asked.

Liz stood up. “Follow me,” she said, leading Mia out the room and to Bethany’s door.

Liz knocked quietly, and when there was no response, she pushed the door open. Mia and Liz stepped inside just far enough to see Bethany sleeping soundly on her side, her belly propped up with a pillow.

They left her to slumber and closed the door.

Mia giggled. “Bethany could sleep through anything.”

“I think you’re right,” Liz said. “We’ll let her sleep for now. Okay, you know what to do?”

Mia nodded. “Yep.”

“Good girl,” Liz said, and gave Mia one last squeeze before bounding off to her guard post.

Mia pondered how to begin packing. Knowing that space was limited, she decided to start with the most important things first.

She headed for the library.

10

“Where are you, you little bastards?”

Charlie muttered under his breath as he drove through the dark night. The roads were steep and windy, and Charlie was pushing the speed to the limits of safety on the mountains roads. He slowed down just a little on each bend.

Nick kept an eye on the gas tank. The high speed was using up fuel faster than normal. It was another risk they’d have to take, though. Recovering the food was worth a little fuel.

After a few minutes, they came to an intersection.

“Which way?” Charlie asked as he rapidly approached it. The cross street was no larger than the road they were on.

“They don’t have any sort of map. They don’t want to get any more lost than they already are, so they would’ve gone straight,” Nick said.

“Straight it is,” Charlie said, picking up even more speed.

Nick hoped they were right.

“Are there any more sour cream and onion chips?” Angie asked, taking her eyes off the road yet again.

“Let me check,” Patrick said, taking the backpack from Josh and digging through it.

Josh was getting nervous again. He turned around to look behind them. Still nothing back there.

“Will you quit worrying?” Patrick said. “No one’s following us.”

“Don’t you think you should drive faster, Angie?” Josh asked. “It feels like we’re slowing down.”

“I think her speed is just right,” Patrick said. “We don’t want to mess up this shiny new truck we got on all these potholes out here.”

“But don’t you think they could catch up to us at this speed?” Josh asked shakily.

“Dude, they’re not following us,” Patrick said confidently. “Did you see the way I was shooting at them? They’re not gonna want to mess with us after that. Stop freaking out.”

“Well, where are we going, anyway?” Josh asked. “Don’t you want to try to find the road that guy told us about?”

“Nah,” Patrick said, catching some popcorn he tossed in the air with his mouth. “We’re not following that guy’s directions. They’d probably get us lost anyway. We’re doing good on gas. We’ll find a way out of these peaks before long.”

Josh turned around again. This time, something was there.

“We found them,” Charlie said as the Silverado’s lights came into view. He clenched the steering wheel tightly.

Charlie saw the tail lights just a split second before Nick. Charlie stepped on the gas, lowering himself slightly in his seat.

They put in ear protection that Nick had had the foresight to bring. None of them wanted any more hearing loss from shooting inside vehicles.

Nick leaned his rifle out the window, and he heard Matt doing the same thing behind him on the opposite side.

Nick took a breath, switched off the safety, and aimed at the passenger with the rifle. He squeezed the trigger.

But the Silverado picked up speed suddenly, and the shot went wide. Charlie accelerated, gaining on the truck. Matt fired and missed. Nick's shots hit the body and rear window of the Silverado, but their target didn't slow down.

Patrick returned fire, leaning his body far out the window and aiming at Nick. His shots weren’t far off base, and they sent Nick inside the cab to duck for cover and missing his chance at a clear shot.

Nick forced himself back up and aimed for Patrick again, but before he could even squeeze the trigger, the windshield of the F-150 was hit. The bullet penetrated the glass, leaving a hole in the windshield on the driver’s side. The shot missed Charlie, but it had come close.

Nick and Matt fired off a few more rounds, but the fire was returned quickly.

Suddenly, Charlie slammed on the brakes. He pounded the steering wheel with his fist.

“What are you doing?” Matt yelled from the backseat. “Keep going!”

“I can’t see!” Charlie exclaimed. “The windshield is all cracked up.”

He was right. Patrick’s rounds had penetrated the glass in several places. Each two-inch hole was surrounded by a web of cracked, opaque glass. It was almost impossible to see. Driving at high speeds with minimal visibility meant they could easily drive off a curve in the road and fall to their death in the canyon below.

They watched the tail lights of the Silverado get farther away. Patrick had stopped shooting at them. Nick leaned out the window and fired a few more rounds, aiming at the Silverado’s tires, but they were too far away.

“Damn it!” Matt yelled, hitting the safety on his gun and kicking the floorboard. “You should have kept going, Charlie.”

“Easy, Matt,” Nick said. “We were almost hit multiple times.”

The Silverado was gone. Nick stowed his rifle and swiveled around in his seat. He ran his fingers over several bullet holes on his seat and head restraint. “We came close to being shot and killed. Charlie was right to stop. Look at this windshield. The glass is all cracked. He couldn’t drive blind.”

“And look at these bullet holes,” Charlie said, pointing at the windshield. “This one almost clipped me. I couldn't keep going like this.”

“So this was all for nothing,” Matt said bitterly. “They just got away with it.”

Charlie groaned. “And now we have a truck we can’t see out of.” He threw his head back against the headrest in frustration. “I guess we should’ve just cut our losses and not come out here.”

The three of them stepped out of the truck to survey the damage. Nick and Charlie shook the tiny pieces of broken glass from their clothes.

Nick sighed. “I should’ve known better. It was stupid to think we could pull this off. I guess this is what happens when you let your emotions get in the way.” He thought of the fiery rage that had come over him when they discovered the theft.

“Well, at least we tried,” Charlie said, rubbing his temples. “We couldn’t just let them take it without a fight, I guess. I just wish my ears weren’t ringing like this.”

“Same here,” Matt said. “I can’t imagine what it would be like without the earplugs.”

The three of them stared at the damaged windshield. It was cracked in multiple areas, but aside from the bullet holes, intact.

“How are we going to drive the truck like this?” Matt asked.

“I guess we’ll have to go real slow,” Charlie said, sighing.

Matt took a step closer to the truck. “Can’t we bust out the windshield and drive without one so we can see?”

“Isn’t that pretty hard to do?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah, it's not easy. Windshields are double layers of laminated glass,” Nick said. “That’s why it shatters like this but doesn’t fly apart like in the movies. The broken pieces of glass are stuck to the vinyl lining. You can’t break a windshield as easily as a side window.”

“What about just removing the whole thing?” Charlie asked.

Nick looked at the rubber windshield gasket. “I guess we could try. I think I still have some tools they didn't steal back at the hotel. I could probably cut around this gasket. I'll need your help lifting it out, Matt.”

“That sounds pretty cool,” Matt admitted begrudgingly.

“But it means we have to drive back to the hotel like this,” Charlie groaned.

“Yeah,” Nick said. “Give me the keys. I’ll drive. You need to be resting that shoulder, anyway.”

Nick drove them back to the hotel at half the speed they had traveled at earlier. It was nerve-racking maneuvering on the dark back roads with limited visibility. They were relieved to finally make it back. The sun had just begun to rise.

Liz, Trina, and Jessa met them at the kitchen entrance of the hotel with shocked looks on their faces.

Charlie threw his good hand up in exasperation as he stepped out of the pickup. “We tried.”

“I knew it was a bad idea to go after those kids,” Trina said. “Now we’re worse off than before. Not only did we lose the Silverado and the food, but the Ford is all shot up.”

“I’m just glad none of you got hurt,” Liz said as she looked the guys over.

Nick glanced at Jessa. Her blonde hair was pulled back in its usual ponytail, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her canvas jacket. Her blue eyes looked tired, but clear and determined as ever. She didn’t say anything for a while, but he could see the worry in her face as she looked at the Ford windshield.

“How does this thing drive now?” she asked finally, looking up at Nick.

“It drives fine, but as you can see, a lot of the windshield is cracked now,” he said. “Makes it pretty hard to see that way.”

Nick stepped inside the kitchen for a moment, then returned with safety goggles, canvas gloves, and his toolbox. At least the thieves hadn’t swiped those things, too. He opened the driver's side door of the F-150 and got in.

“Where are you going now?” Trina asked.

“To the far edge of the parking lot,” Nick said. “Matt and I are going to remove the windshield. The visibility is too low to drive like this.”

Matt got in the passenger's side.

“I need you all to start cleaning the other guns,” he said as he looked at the others. “And wake Bethany up. We need to be driving out of here in an hour.”

11

Daniel looked down into the water well outside the adobe house. It was a simple, hand-dug affair, matching the primitive implements that seemed to have been the norm for the people of this town. It had a large plastic cover to keep dust and critters out, and it used a bucket and a pulley system to draw the water up.

Daniel and his mother had nearly finished the water they brought with them. Sooner or later, they would have to drink from this well. But he didn’t know if he could trust the water.

He drew a bucket up and sniffed at the water. It smelled fine. He cupped some water in his hand. It looked fine, too. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to drink it.

He set the bucket on the edge of the well. He decided to see if there were any other options for water available in the area. If there weren’t, he’d be forced to boil and consume the well water from the house where he and his mother stayed.

He’d already been around the woods, looking for any streams or springs. There was very little groundwater in the area. He’d have to see what the other houses had in the way of water supplies.

His mother’s condition had not changed. Anne was still fatigued, but she wasn’t showing any of the telltale signs of the Hosta virus. He took that as a good sign and prayed each day that her health would improve.

Daniel crossed the main road in the silent town. There couldn’t have been more than one hundred inhabitants in the community before Hosta. He assumed they had all died or fled.

Beat-up trucks and cars sat rusting in front of old earthen homes. He wondered how these people had made a living before everything fell apart. No one had gardened or kept animals. There were no businesses, gas stations, or even a schoolhouse. Perhaps the ones with jobs had all driven to a bigger town nearby to work, he thought to himself. They must have carpooled, since many homes had no vehicle in front.

Many of the homes had a water well similar to the one at his adobe. He stopped at one house that didn’t and turned the doorknob. It was locked, and the stench of decaying bodies was strong even on the front step. He moved on.

He tried the next house that seemed to have no water well outside. This time, the door was open. He walked inside and looked around. Similar to the house where his mother now rested, it was empty of food, water, and corpses. Maybe some of these houses had been abandoned for a long time?

Daniel emerged back out into the sunny morning, pushing a lock of raven-black hair out of his face and crossing his arms in front of his chest. He was overdue a haircut, he noted. He’d have to ask his mother to cut his hair when she felt better.

As he stood in the empty street, he began to have the distinct feeling that someone was watching him.

He turned around, expecting to see someone in the road, but it was empty. He looked in every direction, scanning up and down the road and sweeping his gaze over the windows of the houses. He saw no one. But he couldn’t shake that feeling.

Though the sun was burning off the cold of the early morning, Daniel felt a chill. He shivered and looked around once again before heading back to check on his mother.

He found her just as he had left her – sleeping soundly in the bed. He closed the bedroom door quietly and went back outside.

The streets were just as empty as they had been the past three days, but Daniel no longer felt alone in the town. He felt like his every move was being watched carefully.

There could have been a Hosta survivor or two in this area. It seemed a little unlikely, though, since Daniel hadn’t heard anyone else the previous days.

He decided it wasn’t a threat. Daniel and Anne had already been in the town three days, and there had been no confrontation with anyone. If someone else was there, they were probably just nervous to see a new person on the street and were afraid to make contact with Daniel. But Daniel figured it was more likely that the stress was getting to him. It was playing tricks on his brain. He decided to ignore the strange feeling of being watched.

Hopefully today would be the day that Anne would get better, and they could head toward White Pine Falls in the morning. Yes, they should stay put today, Daniel decided. The stress of packing up, leaving, and searching for another town to stay in wouldn’t help Anne recover. Besides, there could be danger anywhere they went. They would stay where they were for now, until they could rejoin their people and enjoy the safety in numbers.

He brought the bucket of water inside and set it to boil in a pot on the wood cook stove. They had no choice but to drink the water from the well.

And just in case, Daniel resolved to keep his gun on him at all times.

12

With their food and supplies slashed, Nick’s group set out on the southern route through the mountains.

Jessa led the way in her Forest Service truck with Trina and Bethany. Liz followed in the Dodge Ram with Charlie, Matt and Mia. Nick brought up the rear in the Ford. He wore goggles to protect his eyes from the dust and any rocks that might find their way inside the open space where they had removed the windshield. It wasn’t the most pleasant way to drive, but they needed the supplies that were loaded in the bed of the truck.

Besides, he considered it his penance for his lapse in judgment. But he didn’t dwell on that too much. What was he supposed to do – let the kids just take whatever they wanted? He felt a certain responsibility in setting an example for Mia and Matt. He couldn’t teach them to let people walk all over them without a fight.

If they could get out of Colorado and into White Pine Falls, things wouldn’t look so bleak. He’d much prefer the pressure to get shelter built before winter to fighting off thieves, gangs, and starvation. Now that most of their food had been stolen, they’d have to scavenge in houses and stores along the way.

An hour into their journey, Jessa’s brake lights came on. As the convoy came to a stop, Nick looked ahead to see a sight that made his heart sink.

Massive amounts of rocks and soil had fallen onto the road from the cliff towering over them.

Up ahead, Jessa closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to even look at the giant pile of boulders. They had run into one disaster after another. Now, a landslide just seemed like a cruel joke.

A sick, nauseous feeling gripped her as her passengers silently opened their doors and stepped out to look at the landslide. She suddenly felt like they were living in a nightmare that never ended.

She took a deep breath and jumped out of the truck to join Nick and the others at the edge of the obstruction. The boulders were enormous, and the soil must have weighed tons. The road was completely buried.

Her heart beat faster as she surveyed the extent of the blockage. She fought back claustrophobia and panic. It was almost as if the boulders were pressing down on top of her.

“Now what?” Trina asked, breaking the trance everyone seemed to be in.

“We’ll have to just turn around, right?” Liz asked, her eyes still on the boulders. “Take a different route.”

Matt went to fetch the map. Everyone stared at the landslide while he was gone. Seeing how a big chunk of the mountain had just slid down like that, with no regard for humans’ concepts about progress and order, had a strange way of humbling even a casual observer.

He returned and spread it open on the light green hood of Jessa’s truck. Nick stepped up to trace the route they had planned back to Interstate 25.

“This is the only way to take this southern route back to the interstate,” he said, pointing out where they were on the map.

“What about this northern route?” Liz asked, indicating another series of roads that led out of the mountains.

“That route is much longer and slower,” Nick said. “But most importantly, it veers too close to Denver.”

Everyone was quiet, remembering their encounters with the gang members.

“So we run a much greater risk of colliding with the BSC up there,” Nick continued.

“Yeah, and now they’re really pissed at us and probably have even more people out hunting for us,” Jessa added.

“I’d really rather not go through that again,” Trina said.

“I don’t think any of us do,” Liz said. “But what other options do we have?”

The eight of them were quiet for a while, staring at the slide.

“Can we haul those rocks off?” Matt asked.

Nick shook his head. “The Ford has maybe an 8,000-pound towing capacity. The other trucks have even less. Look at the size of some of those boulders. They weigh a lot more than four tons.”

Matt looked at the boulders that were taller than any of the trucks, then he looked down. “That was a stupid question.”

Nick gave him a little smile. “I wish we could just make this disappear. But I’m afraid we’re not getting around these rocks. This road is impassable.”

Bethany moved her hands over her belly and leaned against the truck. “How much longer will it be?”

Nick looked at the map. “It’ll add another four hours to an already long trip. Maybe more.”

“Maybe a lot more when you figure in the stops to scavenge for food,” Jessa said. “We can’t forget about that. It will take all day to get to New Mexico this way.”

“I think we can survive the longer trip,” Liz said. “I’m just worried about running into the BSC again.”

Charlie drew closer to the map. “What if we just go the route we took to get to the ski lodge in the first place? Would there be any outlets to the interstate before getting too close to Denver?”

Charlie traced the route with his finger. He shook his head and answered his own question. “That wouldn’t work. That would just spit us out even closer to gang territory, wouldn’t it?”

Nick stared at the map, following the faint, twisting lines that crossed the western half of Colorado. “Looks like it,” he said.

“So our only choice,” Liz said, “Is to take the northern route.”

“And risk running into the BSC again,” Trina added glumly. Her face twisted up in worry. “I feel like we’re driving into our own death.”

Jessa looked over at Nick, trying to read his face. He was staring at the landslide, his face expressionless. She imagined he was cursing their bad luck, just as she was.

Liz looked at each of them struggling with the disastrous development. “Hey, we’ve done pretty well for ourselves so far, right?” She forced a smile. “If we run into them again, who’s to say we can’t fend for ourselves?”

But even Liz knew that their encounters with the BSC could have easily gone the other way. They had been lucky with the gang members, and that luck could run out at any time.

“Another run-in means bloodshed,” Trina said, her voice shaking. “Ours or theirs. And fighting them off means we have to kill them. The idea is sickening to me. I don’t want any more blood on my hands.”

“None of us do, Trina,” Jessa said. “Every time we’ve shot at people, it was in self-defense.”

“Not every time,” Trina said.

Liz opened her mouth to respond, but she stopped herself. Maybe Trina was right. The guys had gone after those teenagers. They had shot at them in an effort to recover the supplies. Maybe they had gone too far.

“What we did this morning was self-defense, too,” Charlie said, glaring at Trina. “Those kids stole our food. Theft isn’t the same as murder, but starvation will kill people all the same. We had to at least try to get our stuff back. So, we didn’t succeed. But we tried. And if we had gotten the truck back, you’d be eating the food right now without any objections.”

Trina looked away.

“That’s true,” she said quietly. “I understand why you guys went after those thieves. I don’t mean to judge anyone here. But,” she said, wiping a tear away, “I just can’t face another confrontation where I have to shoot somebody. There’s been so much death already.”

Jessa sighed and sat on the ground in front of the landslide. She looked at the way the slope of the mountain had broken apart, as if it had simply given up the effort to stay in place and released itself to tumble down into the ravine below.

The landscape had been changing gradually since the dawn of time. Humans had thought they could tame it, and they had kept certain things under control, at least to a degree. Now, nature would take over. In a hundred years, with no one to clear the trails and dirt roads like this one, they would be reclaimed by the wilderness.

The prospect of another battle made Jessa’s stomach tie itself in a knot. All she wanted was to get everyone back to New Mexico where they could get settled and live quiet lives. It was the most anyone could hope for in this new world, among these remnants of civilization.

Nor did she ever forget that she was the reason her friends had gone to Colorado in the first place. The guilt and confusion weighed heavily on her shoulders. She had to do everything she possibly could to get them out of there.

“None of us want to kill anyone,” Jessa said, breaking the tense silence. “I’d never shot anyone in my life until some guys in Santa Fe tried to attack me three weeks ago. As soon as society collapsed, people started going insane. Not everyone, but a lot of them. Maybe the weak ones, I don’t know. The ones who couldn’t cope with having to survive on their own without civilization to keep them safe and warm.”

She stood up, her eyes still on the boulders scattered across the road.

“It’s like the horror of losing everything – family, friends, a way of life, all that gave us meaning – made some people lose their grip on reality. They lost a part of themselves. Their humanity,” Jessa said. “They’re the ones who turn to theft and mindless violence and enslavement. They don’t know any other way to make it. They don’t see any other way to survive without wielding power over others, without hurting anyone they view as weaker or in the way.

“But the way I see it, they’re the weak ones. The people like us, even though we may not have been the most prepared, or have the best skills, or do everything perfectly – we’re the strong ones. We can survive without senseless cruelty.”

Jessa, slightly breathless, looked up at the others.

“That’s a nice speech, Jessa,” Trina said. “But what’s your point? We still have to kill people if they’re dangerous to us, right? In the end we’re all just murderers.”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that the difference between us and the BSC is that we’re not hurting people to prop ourselves up. Everyone here would prefer to never pick up a weapon against another human again. And our friends from Los Gatos are like us. They don’t use force unnecessarily. But when it comes to survival, or living our lives freely –”

“You mean not becoming a forced laborer for the BSC?” Liz asked with anger in her voice as she remembered Trina’s story of the work camps the gang ran.

“Yeah, that’s what I mean,” Jessa said. “The rules have changed. We no longer have law enforcement or the justice system to protect us. We’re on our own. Defending ourselves with lethal force is unfortunately what we’ll have to do now, if we want to go on living.”

Her gaze moved over the faces before her. Mia was looking at her, listening attentively with big, innocent eyes. It saddened Jessa that a little girl had to hear this kind of talk. Even worse, Mia had to live through violence and extreme uncertainty. Matt was too young for this, too.

But Jessa couldn’t shield them from reality. She could only do everything in her power to keep them alive.

“None of us here will take a life unless it’s to protect each other or what we need to survive. We’re not fighting for sport. We’re fighting for our survival, for our freedom.”

Jessa turned on her heels and headed back to her truck. She thought she saw a glimmer of a proud smile on Nick’s face as she passed by.

She opened the truck door and paused, glancing over at the rest of the group who still stood by the landslide.

“Are you coming or not?” she asked.

13

Everyone jumped to action.

Daylight was wasting, and they had to face the inevitable. There was no other route but north. They’d have to get closer to Denver than anyone wanted.

Most of them hadn’t eaten since last night. They were saving what little rations they had for the evening, in case they didn't find anything before then. Bethany, Mia and Matt, whom everyone agreed should get to eat more frequently, had only eaten a small breakfast of oatmeal and milk.

They all hoped to find an empty house to raid at some point in the journey out of the mountains. But as the three thieves had said earlier, there was nothing but wilderness in those parts.

Liz tried to ignore her growling stomach as she drove the twisting roads. Being in a stressful situation seemed to make her hungrier. She held her breath on each bend of the road, hoping to see an empty vacation home in the distance, but she saw nothing except alpine forests and river valleys.

She couldn’t believe that just a week ago, they had stocked their kitchen with enough canned and boxed food to last them for months. Plus, they were preparing a garden that was sure to give them fresh food. They had lost so much, and so quickly. It still felt like a dream.

Of course, just a month ago, Liz had been living in a city with what seemed like an endless supply of food. Planes and trucks had brought in food from all over the country and even from other continents. Consumers were taught to expect every kind of food at the market, whenever they wanted it.

Tropical fruit could be found in the dead of winter, grown thousands of miles away. Restaurants served every kind of exotic cuisine she could ever want.

Liz, like many, never had any reason to think that way of life would ever end.

She remembered the dinners with her family before her loved ones had been torn from her years ago – the homemade pizza her dad made, and the comfort food her mom would cook when Liz was feeling down.

“There’s nothing that a big plate of fried chicken, biscuits, and greens won’t fix,” her mom had said.

And her mother had often been right.

Since living on her own, Liz had stopped cooking much. She usually filled up on pastries at her coffee shop job, and then called in take-out food at her favorite neighborhood restaurants. The only times she got home-cooked food were evenings spent with her friend Sarah.

Liz now cringed to think of how she had taken so much for granted. She had let food go bad, buying fresh produce at the store and then never using it, only to throw it out after it rotted in the refrigerator. She had never considered that the supermarket shelves would someday be empty, that the long-distance trucks would cease to ship food all over the country.

As bad as things had been in her life before the Hosta virus, she had never gone hungry or worried about where her next meal would come from.

Now, she would have done almost anything to get her hands on all the food she had expected to appear so effortlessly in her previous life.

She looked over at Charlie, who was jolted awake for the umpteenth time when the truck went over a pothole. He sat up in his seat and looked at Liz.

“Too bad it’s so hard to sleep on this bumpy road,” he said, grinning at her. “I can have all the food I want in my dreams. I was just about to tear into a rib-eye steak.”

Liz groaned to think of a juicy, sizzling steak, putting a hand on her growling stomach. “Yeah, a nice rib-eye with mashed potatoes and green beans. With ice cream for dessert.”

“Hey, cut it out up there,” Matt said from the backseat. “That’s torture.”

“Sorry,” Liz said. “No more food talk.”

Liz looked over at Charlie and smiled nervously. “We’ll definitely need food soon. There aren’t any houses to scavenge from around here. Do you think we could hunt in these woods?”

He looked out the window at the conifer forest whizzing by. “I think so, if the virus hasn’t killed off all the game. I think Daniel told Nick there was still small game to be found.”

“It would slow us down, though,” Matt said.

“Yeah, and we’d probably have to wait until early evening to spot anything,” Charlie said. “But if we don’t find any houses to raid by then, I might try my luck with the old rifle.”

Mia leaned forward and looked at Liz hunched over the steering wheel. “Do you think we’ll see the gangsters again?”

Liz looked at her in the rearview. Mia looked so small and frightened. “I hope not, sweetie. But if we do, we need to be ready.”

“Does everyone still have a gun?” Mia asked. “Trina’s gun was stolen, right?”

“Yeah, but we still have enough,” Charlie said. “That’s one thing we aren’t low on, is weapons. We’ve picked up a lot of firearms along the way.”

He thought of the gruesome task of removing the weapons from the fallen gang members after the shootout at Chris’s cabin. They’d even found some extra ammo in their vehicles.

“And they weren’t in Nick’s truck that was stolen?” Mia asked.

Charlie smiled. “No, Nick’s way too protective of those guns to leave them out in the truck. He kept the extras in his room at the ski lodge. Don’t worry, Mia,” he said, turning around to look at her. “We’re well armed.”

“Oh,” Mia said. She took a deep breath. “I was thinking maybe I should carry one, too. You know, just in case.”

Liz looked up at Mia in the rearview, then exchanged a look with Charlie.

“Sure, Mia, if you feel comfortable with that,” Charlie said.

“Well, Nick did teach you all about gun safety and how to shoot,” Liz said. “I’m sure he’d be happy to let you practice some more the next time we stop. Do you want to use your dad’s revolver?”

“Okay,” Mia said. “I mean, it’s just for emergencies, like if…”

Her voice trailed off.

“Like when you and me and Bethany had to hide in the woods?” Matt asked.

“Yeah, like that,” Mia said. “Everyone should know how to defend themselves, right?”

“Right, Mia,” Liz said.

“My little sister learned to shoot when she was your age,” Matt said.

Liz smiled at Mia in the mirror, then brought her eyes back to the road. It was good that Mia was thinking of ways to help, but it still brought a lump to Liz’s throat.

She wished that Mia didn’t have to worry about things like defending herself from gang members. It seemed horribly unfair to the girl, not to mention a waste of her talents. A child prodigy like Mia should have been in a top-notch school with private tutors and access to big libraries and laboratories, if she wanted it. At the very least, Mia should have been allowed to remain a child. She was taking on responsibilities far too heavy for her young age.

Liz’s childhood had ended abruptly from tragedy. It saddened her that Mia’s seemed to be ending too soon as well.

The convoy traced the curving roads along the mountainside. They climbed higher and higher without guardrails or shoulders to give a buffer between the trucks and the thousand-foot drop below. With each blind corner, Liz gripped the steering wheel more tightly. Her empty stomach grew nauseous as they traveled among the highest altitudes they had reached yet.

After gaining in elevation for a while, they finally began to descend into a valley. Liz gasped as the emerald green valley spread before her.

Lime green grass carpeted the hills and pines dotted the slopes. She could see for miles out to the peaks to the north. Rows of fat, gray-bottomed clouds stretched over the distant range.

“Surely there must be a house up ahead,” Liz said. “It’s so gorgeous out here. I can just picture some celebrity or investor building their summer home in this valley.”

But as the road lowered into the desolate valley, she could see that there was nothing – no signs of humans at all. She pounded on her steering wheel in frustration.

Jessa’s brake lights came on, and she slowly came to a stop. Liz pulled up alongside the Forest Service Chevrolet, and Charlie lowered his window.

“Let’s stop here to rest,” Jessa said, killing her engine.

“We should just keep going,” Charlie muttered to Liz under his breath. “We can’t take so many breaks if we want to get anywhere before nightfall.”

She watched as Bethany hopped out first and stretched her legs. “Hopefully we won’t be here too long,” Liz said.

She looked again at the clouds on the horizon which seemed to be gathering together and getting darker. Then she opened her door and stepped out.

“Everything all right?” Nick asked as he parked the Ford behind them.

Jessa slammed her door shut and joined the rest of the group by Nick’s truck. “It’s fine,” she said. “Bethany needed to walk a little.”

“Sorry, y’all,” Bethany said as she put her hands behind her hips and arched her back. “I get leg cramps if I sit for too long.”

Nick stretched his arms overhead. His neck and shoulders were tight. He didn’t mind a break, as long as it was quick.

“I’m so hungry it hurts,” Trina complained. “I’m going to need to eat soon, and I know I’m not the only one.”

“Charlie and I were thinking we could maybe stop to hunt before it gets dark,” Liz said.

“Hunt?” Trina repeated. “Don’t you think we’ll find an empty house or store before too long? We can just load up on food there.”

“I’m sure we’ll run into something eventually,” Charlie said. “But what if everything’s already been cleared out?”

“Yeah, we might not find anything until tomorrow,” Liz said.

“But hunting could take a long time,” Trina said. “That will just slow us down.”

“I agree,” Matt said, looking at Nick. “I think we should try to get out of the state today. Hunting will take too long. It’s too dangerous to stay here any longer. We need to focus on putting as much distance between us and Denver as we can.”

“Wait, I thought we’d get to where we’re going today,” Bethany said, looking confused. “Is it going to take us two days to get to White Pine Falls?”

Everyone was quiet.

Nick ran a hand through his brown hair. He squinted his green eyes at the road that crossed the valley and continued to the north, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he strained to see the horizon. Like the others, his skin was red from spending long hours on guard duty in the high altitude sun.

He looked at the mountain peaks in the distance. Maybe those same peaks could be seen from Denver on the other side. They were getting too close for comfort.

“We’ll do the best we can,” he said, still looking off in the distance. “The priority is getting to safety. We’ll go as far as we can today.”

“The detour is taking longer than I thought,” Jessa said. “This terrain is so rugged that we can’t go very fast.”

Nick looked at the gear in the back of the trucks. He remembered how they had piled food into the Silverado back in Santa Fe days ago.

They were hungry already. If it took them two days to get to New Mexico, they’d need more food.

“We’ll have to find food somewhere along the way,” Nick said. “If we’re still in the mountains by dusk and we haven’t found food by then, we’ll have to see what we can shoot.”

Liz leaned against the tailgate of the Dodge. She was exhausted and queasy. She wondered how she would fare if she had to defend herself while weak with hunger.

“Moving on,” Nick said, looking at the others. “How’s everyone doing on gas?”

“Not great,” Liz said. It was yet another thing she was worried about. “I’ve got a bit under a half tank.”

“I’ve got just over a half tank,” Jessa said.

Nick rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m down to a quarter tank.”

Jessa cringed. “That’s not good.”

“Not at all,” he said. “Chasing after those thieves this morning didn’t help matters.”

“Could we fit everything in two trucks?” Mia asked from where she leaned against the Dodge, mirroring Liz’s posture. “You could drain the gas from the Ford and put it in the other trucks.”

Nick smiled at her, appreciating the girl’s cleverness. “Yeah, I was thinking that’s what we might have to do. It would get us a little farther, anyway. It would be a tight squeeze, though, since the back of the Ford is packed pretty full.”

“A tight squeeze?” Charlie repeated. “Where are we going to put all the gear? We can’t leave any of that stuff behind. All the tools and stuff we saved from the lodge we’ll need to build something in White Pine Falls.”

Nick walked to Jessa’s truck and looked in the cargo bed. “With some rearranging, we could fit some more stuff back here.”

“But not everything,” Jessa said.

“No, not everything.” Nick’s eyes went to the roof of the truck. “We’ll just have to go up. Tie some to the roof.”

Liz twisted around and glanced at the back seat of Jessa’s truck. She knew she’d probably get stuck back there since she was the smallest adult. It looked like it would be an uncomfortable ride, especially sharing it with Trina. She imagined being cramped in the claustrophobic space on all the twisty roads, being jostled from side to side.

“Should we drive a bit farther with all three trucks?” Liz asked hopefully. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a vehicle to siphon gas from in a few miles.”

Nick opened his mouth to answer, but a flash of movement on the slope opposite them caught his eye.

Before he could locate what it was, a gunshot rang out. The sound echoed around the valley like thunder.

14

Earlier, Daniel had tested the well water out in small increments, the way his mother had shown him to test an unknown plant to determine its edibility.

He had started with a drop of the boiled water and waited for any side effects. When there were none, he increased the dose and waited. When he had no reaction after several hours, he drank even more.

According to his mother, the testing process should take days or even weeks. The dose should be increased slowly, watching for any kind of negative response to the substance in question.

Now, though, Daniel didn’t have days to wait for any reaction to the water to appear, so he went ahead and drank a cup at lunch.

It wasn’t pathogens that worried him, since he had sterilized the water. It was fear of contamination from heavy metals or agricultural chemical runoff from the alfalfa field nearby. He had the feeling that things hadn’t been maintained properly for years in the house – or the entire town. He didn’t want to take any chances, especially with his mother ill.

In the afternoon, he felt normal, so he drank another glass before venturing outside. It was time to look for more game. They still weren’t ready to leave their quarantine, and they’d be spending another night there. Anne was still ill.

She never complained, so he wasn’t sure how bad she felt. But he saw it in the way she moved – she was stiff and in pain. Her skin tone was still normal, though, and that gave him hope. There was nothing they could do but continue to wait.

He and Anne had a small supply of food, but he needed to make it stretch out as long as possible. Besides, his mom needed fresh food to fight off whatever infection she had.

He took the long way to the alfalfa field, avoiding crossing through the center of town where the rest of the houses were situated. Today, he was able to bag two rabbits. It was a good sign.

He walked along the tree line and came to a low place where water would collect after a rain. Some knee-high plants grew there, and he brushed his hand against some of the leaves. He felt the familiar sharp prickling on his skin, and he knew he had found stinging nettles.

He put on some work gloves and removed his knife from its sheath he wore on his belt. He cut a bunch of the plants to take home, careful not to brush his arms up against the stingers on the leaves.

Nettles would be good in the stew he planned to make. They were rich in minerals like iron and calcium, important when their diet had become so limited. With a boil, the protective stinging hairs on the plants would be neutralized, and the plant would taste like spinach.

He put the greens and tools away and set out, taking the longer route back to his temporary home. He wanted to avoid the center of the town where he had felt the strange sensation of being watched. If there were other survivors in the town, it was best to leave them alone and not bother them.

He had often wondered how Nick and his friends were doing. It had been a few days since Daniel’s family had left the Jemez Mountains. The young man didn’t doubt the warnings of the tribal elders. He was sure a forest fire had ravaged the land.

Daniel knew that Nick had wanted to wait to see if Jessa would return, but Nick wouldn’t have wanted to endanger the lives of the rest of the group. They must have gotten out in time to avoid the fire.

But why hadn’t Nick passed through this sleepy town that Daniel now found himself in? The map Daniel drew for him was complete with directions that ran through the road he now walked on.

It was possible Nick had decided not to go to White Pine Falls. But Nick was a sensible man. He knew that joining the rest of the Los Gatos community would provide the most security and the best chance of survival.

That left only two possibilities. Nick had taken a different route, or there was something terribly wrong.

The worry gnawed at Daniel’s insides. Something told him it was the latter possibility. There were so many things that could have gone wrong. They could have run into trouble on the road. Someone could have gotten sick or had an accident.

Wherever Nick and his friends were, Daniel hoped they were safe.

He thought of the rest of his family in White Pine Falls, getting settled. He knew the spot well. It was at a similar elevation to Los Gatos, so the livestock and seeds would be adapted to the climate well. Springs from deep underground would provide water, and there were abundant streams for fishing. The water was good there, he remembered. He couldn’t wait to leave the questionable water he was now drinking, as well as the eerie feeling in this isolated town, behind.

He crossed the front yard to the adobe house where he and his mother were staying. The day was sunny and brisk, with the air lightly scented of pine. He stopped in front of the door and gave one last look at the empty streets surrounding the house before opening the creaky old door. He stepped inside, taking a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dark interior.

Daniel heard something as soon as he closed the door. He froze, listening, then dropped his gear. He followed the sound to the bedroom, where he stood outside the closed door.

His mother was crying.

“Are you all right, Mom?” he asked, knocking on the door.

She sniffed. “Come in, Daniel.”

He opened the door and walked over to stand beside her bed. Anne was sitting on the edge of the mattress with her head in her hands.

His stomach seized up. He braced himself for the worst.

But when she looked up at him, her face was red and tear-stained. He still saw no traces of gray.

There’s still hope.

“I’m so sorry, Daniel,” she said between sobs.

He sat down beside her. “Mom, what’s wrong? Do you feel any different today? Any change in symptoms?”

He held his breath.

She shook her head. “No, I feel the same.”

He exhaled. At least she didn’t feel worse.

“It’s not my health. It’s this town,” she said. “This place. We shouldn’t be here. And we got stuck here all because of me.”

Her shoulders shook as she broke down in tears again.

“Mom, I don’t understand,” Daniel said, putting his arm around her shoulders. “What’s wrong with this town?”

She looked up at him again through glistening eyes. “Bad spirits.”

Daniel couldn’t help but chuckle. He felt a wave of relief.

It was just his mother’s superstitious nature that had gotten to her. Maybe it was even a good sign that she was recovering her health. If she was worrying about ghosts, she was getting back to her old self.

“Oh, is that all?” he asked, smiling at her. “You had me worried there was something wrong. Like something real.”

“It is real, Daniel,” she insisted. “There’s something bad in this place. I saw it in my dream. And I made you stop here so I could get better.”

“I don’t believe in that spirit stuff, you know.”

“I know you don’t. But we need to leave here.”

Daniel sighed. “We can’t go to White Pine Falls yet because you’re still sick.”

“We’ll have to go somewhere else,” she said. “We can find some other town before White Pine Falls, but we can’t stay here. It’s not safe, Daniel.”

She grabbed his arm, gripping it with strength he didn’t know his mother had. She looked at him with such intensity in her eyes that he couldn’t refuse.

“Okay, we’ll go anywhere you want,” Daniel said, standing up. “But can I cook some food first? I’m starving, and I don’t want the rabbits I brought home to go to waste.”

Anne paused for a moment, thinking. Then she nodded. “Yes, but please make it fast. I’ll gather up my things while you cook.”

Daniel gave her another squeeze. “Don’t worry, Mom, we’ll get out of here. Everything will be fine.”

She sniffed and wiped at her tears. Managing a smile, she looked at him and nodded.

Daniel couldn’t help but laugh to himself as he went back outside to draw up some water from the well. His mother’s fear of bad spirits was a recurring joke among his family. She often grew frightened of something based on a dream or a bad feeling.

But Daniel was much more realistic. He didn’t believe in spirits. He acted on what he could see and hear, not on feelings. Which was why he had ignored the feeling of being watched the other day. If he didn’t actually see other people, he couldn’t trust a feeling that they were somewhere in this town.

It had probably just been the stress and worry. Daniel was in a tense situation, hiding out in quarantine with his mother sick. The fate of their entire family and village was at stake. If Anne had the Hosta, it meant the rest of the tribe could fall ill as well.

Yes, there was no doubt that the tension had gotten to him, cropping up as fear when he walked through the town. There was nothing more to it.

He removed the big lid covering the well and began to tug on the pulley that drew up the plastic bucket full of water. He’d make a quick meal and they’d be on the road within an hour. He didn’t mind that his mother wanted to leave. If she would be happier somewhere else, maybe that would make her recover from whatever illness she was fighting.

Please, please let it be the flu. The flu or just a bad cold. Something she can recover from. Make her well again.

He found himself repeating the plea over and over through the days. It was all he could do.

The water sloshed out of the bucket as he carried it inside, splashing on the front stoop. He carried it to the stove and set it on the counter. Arranging the kindling, he got a quick fire going.

He pulled the big, empty pot toward him. Lifting the bucket, he began to pour the water into the pot, but a strange smell stopped him.

It was a noxious scent that made his throat scratch. A strange, unfamiliar odor. He had only faintly perceived it outside as he drew the water up, but it hadn’t been strong enough to make much of an impact, and his focus had been on other things. Now, with the water right in front of him, the odor was undeniable.

He peered into the bucket. At first glance, the water seemed normal. But on closer inspection, he could see tiny bits of debris floating in the liquid.

His stomach clenched again.

He crossed the distance to the door and walked back outside to the well. Throwing off the plastic lid, he leaned over to look inside. It was dark, though, and he couldn’t see much. He dug his flashlight from his pocket and switched it on, moving the beam over the dark, deep space below.

Jerking away from the well, he heaved and staggered away, fighting back the urge to vomit.

Floating in the water at the bottom of the well was a severed human arm.

15

“Everyone get down!”

Nick raised his rifle, aimed at the slope above them, and hit the safety. He fired, gritting his teeth. Everyone around him scurried to take cover and draw their own weapons.

Time seemed to slow down for Jessa. While Nick was firing his first shot, Jessa drew her rifle, tucking it securely into her shoulder. She opened the truck door and crouched behind it to take cover.

She spotted two men on the slope at the opposite end of the valley. They were shooting from behind two boulders just off the road. She got one of the men in her sights, exhaled, and pulled the trigger.

She heard movement all around her as the others took cover behind the truck. Soon, shots were being fired all around, though she didn’t know who was shooting. She kept pulling that trigger, but her target was far away and well covered. She missed over and over.

One of his shots came close to her and struck the road just ten feet away. She returned the fire.

“One’s down,” Nick called from somewhere to her side.

Her eyes flashed to the man a few yards away from her own target. He had been hit and lay sprawled out on the ground. She returned her focus to her own target and fired again.

Suddenly, he disappeared. She blinked and scanned the area. But he was gone, having retreated in a backward crawl and disappearing from her sight.

She didn’t dare take her eyes from the area. Holding her breath, she waited and listened. Finally, an unseen engine started, filling the valley with the sound of a vehicle speeding away.

“Damn it,” she muttered.

She swept her eyes over the slope, combing the ridge for any movement. She glanced quickly at Nick, and he did the same.

“He got away,” Charlie said bitterly.

Jessa exhaled and lowered her rifle after she was sure he was correct. There were no other shooters on the ridge.

She looked around to see that Charlie, Liz and Matt had drawn their weapons and fired from behind the vehicles. Bethany, Trina, and Mia had taken cover by crouching down behind Nick’s truck.

“It was only two of them,” Liz breathed, lowering her rifle and hitting the safety with shaking hands.

“Nick got one of them,” Matt said. “I don’t know how you got him. He was so far away and so hidden behind that big rock.”

Nick shielded his eyes from the sun to look at the body lying on the ridge across from them. He wiped away the beads of sweat forming on his hairline.

“The other one got away,” he said. “He’ll go back to report to whoever’s in charge of this operation, and then they’ll send more people out here.”

He looked toward the mountains to the north. A tense silence fell over the group for a moment.

“I guess it’s pretty clear they were gang members,” Jessa said, breaking the quiet. “And now they know where to find us.”

“Do you think they were waiting for us on that ridge?” Bethany asked as she rose to her feet with Nick’s help.

“None of us heard their vehicle drive up,” Nick said. “So they must have been hidden up there somewhere, just waiting for us to pass by.”

Charlie kicked the dirt in frustration, then grimaced when his injured shoulder was jostled. “Damn them! Why don’t they leave us alone?”

“We humiliated them,” Jessa said, dusting off her jeans from where she had crouched in the dirt. “We took out a lot of their men. Now someone has to save face by putting an end to us.”

Liz stared at her with an open mouth. “How can you be so nonchalant about it?”

“I’m not saying they’re going to succeed,” Jessa replied. “Just what they’re attempting. But the question is, how can we continue forward in this direction if they send reinforcements now?”

Nick reached into the cargo bed of the Ford truck and grabbed Bethany’s suitcase. Before leaving Texas, she had filled it with supplies she would need when she went into labor.

“We have no choice,” he said. “We have to keep going.”

He carried the suitcase to Jessa’s truck and placed it in the cargo bed.

“What are you doing?” Trina asked, eyeing him as he moved.

“We’re leaving the Ford behind,” he said, focused on his task. “We need the gas.”

Jessa slung her rifle over her shoulder. “I’ll siphon it from the tank,” she volunteered, grabbing the transfer pump Matt had brought.

“Maybe we’ll have some time before that guy gets back to the BSC headquarters,” Bethany suggested hopefully. She moved her hand to her belly, feeling the baby kicking.

“I hope so,” Charlie said. “But maybe he doesn’t have to go all the way back to Denver. Maybe those gang members are stationed all over these mountains, just waiting for us to appear.”

He shuddered as he considered it. Then he began to help Nick transfer the gear. From the pile of supplies in the bed of the pickup, he dug out a sleeping bag, an inflatable camping mattress, a small tent, a tarp, Nick’s toolbox. Liz and Trina helped carry the items to Jessa’s truck.

“I just think this is a bad idea,” Trina said. “We’re driving straight into enemy territory. It’s crazy. They’ll just be waiting for us.”

Jessa sighed. “Unless you forgot to tell us about your superhuman strength, no one’s moving the boulders off the road back at the landslide. So this is the only way.”

Jessa looked at Nick, who was eyeing the roof of the Forest Service truck.

“I’ve got some ratchet straps,” she offered.

He nodded, digging them out of the backseat where she directed him.

“I’ll have to tie the straps through the rear windows,” he said. “And we won’t be able to open the rear doors.”

Liz felt her throat tighten. The back seat would feel even more confining without doors that opened.

“Go for it,” Jessa said. “We’ll find another vehicle and more gas somewhere along the way.”

Mia watched the adults hurry around. It didn’t seem like a good time to ask Nick about carrying a gun. Everyone was trying to get to New Mexico as quickly as possible. Delaying them was the last thing she wanted. She tried to stay out of their way as they moved the gear around.

Matt felt a lump in his throat as he grabbed a box of emergency gear his father had packed. He lifted it out of the cargo bed as he watched everyone empty the belongings from his dad’s maroon F-150. His dad had loved this truck, and now they were leaving it shot up and abandoned on the side of the road.

It seemed Matt was drifting farther and farther from his old life and everything he had known. The Ford truck had been something familiar from the his old life, and it hurt to let it go. But at least he had his Uncle Nick. At least he had one family member. That was something that none of the others had, he realized. He was grateful for that blessing, at least.

“So we’re just going head-first into a trap?” Trina asked, handing Nick a bag to tie to the roof of the Chevy.

Nick didn’t answer.

“Are we totally sure that there’s no other way? Should we look at the map again?” Trina asked.

Nick reached inside his jacket pocket and retrieved the map. “Here,” he said, handing it to her. “See for yourself.”

Trina looked at him, then down at the map. She took it and walked to the hood of the truck where she spread it out and studied it for a few moments. Jessa began to transfer the gas to the other two trucks while the others finished moving the gear.

Trina sighed and folded the map again.

“Are you finished?” Nick asked.

Trina nodded. “I’m finished. And you’re right – there’s no other way. At least, not on the map.”

“What are you saying?” Charlie asked as he wedged a duffel bag in between some boxes in the back of the Chevy.

“There could easily be a small road that’s not on the map,” Trina said as she handed the map to Nick. “We might find something as we’re driving.”

“Sounds like a good way to get lost,” Charlie said. “Then we’d really be screwed.”

“Let’s just play it by ear,” Jessa said. “If we have to stop to hunt, then a little back road might be a good idea.”

Nick nodded in agreement. “Our goal is to clear out of this whole area before nightfall. If we’re lucky, we’ll make it far enough south that we’ll be in the clear. Then we can find some empty houses or businesses to look for food.”

“And if we’re not lucky?” Trina asked.

“Just keep your guns on you at all times,” Nick said flatly. “Stay awake and alert.”

Trina sighed and muttered under her breath as she crossed the distance to the truck.

“I just hope we make it out of here alive.”

No one heard Trina but Mia, who nervously watched the adults prepare for the journey. The more she watched them, the more she realized that most of them were just as afraid as she was.

16

Daniel fell into the patchy grass, coughing and gasping for air.

He had just caught a glimpse of the arm as the flashlight beam brought it into light, but the gruesome image was seared in his brain.

It was an adult arm. It had been sawed off at the shoulder. It floated in the well, all blanched white and bloated from the water.

He knew it hadn’t been in the well when he had fetched water earlier. He would have noticed the smell and seen the debris floating in the water. No, this was new.

He pulled at his jacket collar, struggling to breathe. It wasn’t just the nausea that made him ill. It was the knowledge that someone had tried to hurt him and his mother. Someone must have thrown it in the well while he had been hunting.

He groaned, thinking of the bucket of water inside the house that he had almost used to cook with for himself and his mother.

His hunch that they weren’t alone in the town had been correct after all. Had some survivor in this empty town tried to kill Anne and Daniel with contaminated water? Or was their intention merely to drive them off?

Whatever their intentions, however many of them there were, they did not wish the mother and son well.

And who was the unlucky person without an arm? Daniel guessed the survivors had sawed the appendage off some corpse they found, a victim of the Hosta virus. But the act in question was so perverse that there was no way to know what he was dealing with.

Pulling himself to his feet, Daniel glanced up at the empty houses all around him. His shotgun was still slung over his shoulder. He pulled it around now, raising it as he scanned the streets for any sign of movement.

Daniel didn’t believe in spirits, but his mother was right about one thing.

They needed to leave this town.

He moved close to the house, staying against the exterior walls to gain as much cover as possible. He swept his eyes from side to side, moving his gaze over the run-down adobe and concrete shacks and houses across the street and down the road. He scanned over the abandoned jalopies, the dried-up flower beds, the scattered bits of garbage and kids’ toys.

Daniel moved around to the side and back of the house, straining to see in the darkened windows of the neighboring homes. He paused and listened, gripping his shotgun. He inched forward just a bit at a time, using his peripheral vision to see in all directions without moving his head.

There was no movement, no sound. Everything looked just as it had before: empty.

His fear began to turn to rage. Some sick individuals were toying with him. They had done a hideous thing – they had poisoned his and his mother’s water supply. And now they were too cowardly to show their faces. He imagined one or two people cowering behind a window, watching Daniel’s movements the past few days.

Their cowardice and cruelty disgusted him. If they hadn’t wanted Daniel and Anne in their town, that was one thing. Daniel would have accepted being asked to leave, had they asked. But to try to spook them off – or worse, kill them – with this sick stunt, was depraved.

He had half a mind to search for those responsible for the poisoned well. He could go door to door until he found them. He could make them sorry. But his mother was all that mattered. Her gut instinct had been right, and he needed to get her to a peaceful place where she could recover.

He charged into the house, closing the door and locking it behind him. He found his mother in the bedroom. She held a sweater in her hands, frozen in mid-movement. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

“It’s time to leave,” he said, grabbing a stack of folded clothes and stuffing them in a duffel bag. “Right now.”

She blinked, then pushed herself to action. Gathering the last of their things into their bags, they were ready in a few moments. Anne followed Daniel to the front door, asking questions along the way.

“What is it, Daniel?” she asked nervously. “What happened?”

“You were right. This is a bad place, Mom,” he said. “And it’s not because of spirits. There are some hostile people here. And they want us to leave.”

Anne’s brow furrowed. “Hostile people? How do you know? Did you see someone?”

“It’s the well. They poisoned it.”

Anne’s eyes went wide as they flew over Daniel’s face, examining him. “Are you sick?”

“I’m fine, I haven’t had any since they contaminated the well. They must have done it last night. They threw a – uh, I’ll tell you later. We just need to go now.”

She nodded, still frowning and worried. “I’m ready.”

“Wait here while I take this out to the truck,” he instructed her, letting go of her hands and slipping out the door.

He threw the bags into the bed of the pickup and scanned the area once more. There was still no sign of anyone in the town. But someone was out there. Someone sick enough to poison the well. And they must have done it just a few hours before. They were probably watching him even now.

He backed up to the front door and opened it, keeping his eyes on the empty streets.

“Let’s go.”

He escorted her to the truck and helped her climb in, then closed her door. Hurrying around to the driver’s side, he set the gun in his lap as he climbed in. The old truck started without a problem, and he shifted the manual transmission in reverse to back out of the driveway.

Daniel threw one last glance at the old adobe house. He was glad to be leaving. His set his focus on the road out of town, shifted into first gear, and stepped on the gas.

One block down the dirt road, he blinked.

“What’s that?” his mother asked, craning her neck to see up ahead. “There’s something in the street.”

His eyelid twitched. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.

Someone was standing in the middle of the road.

17

A tall, wiry man of about thirty sat in a luxury hotel room, studying the map laid out before him on the desk. He pushed it away, standing up and walking over to the window to look out from his second-story window. He missed the view from the penthouse, but he had better things to do than climb twenty flights of stairs every day. The second story would have to do.

He regarded the downtown buildings and the park adjacent to the hotel. A lot of the neighborhood had burned, and the buildings were charred. At night, what had once been the glistening, sleek center of a thriving metropolis was now dark.

But to Bobby, the scene wasn’t one of ruin, but of opportunity.

The Bridge Street Crew was named after some neighborhood in Los Angeles. It was a tame-sounding name, quickly shortened to the BSC, but he didn’t think about that much anymore. Names didn’t mean too much, but action meant everything. And the BSC had quickly proven themselves to be the toughest gang around.

When some BSC members started jumping parole in California and moving out to Denver, his big brother Randy was at the right place at the right time. Randy and Bobby were mostly raised by their mom, who was too drunk most of the time to keep track of the boys. When Dad came around, things were even worse. Violence was something they grew up on, became accustomed to. The two brothers started hanging out on the streets more and more, and they found a family in the BSC they’d never had at home.

Randy first started running with some BSC members at the age of thirteen. By the time Bobby was twelve, he was joining his big brother on drug deals and small thefts. The two brothers worked their way up the ranks through their teen years, doing bigger jobs and gaining the trust of the higher-ups. The brothers grew a reputation as two guys who would do anything to prove themselves.

Several years before the Hosta outbreak, when the BSC was battling their rival, Los Pumas, the brothers led an attack that ended with over twenty Pumas dead. Randy and Bobby were promoted again. When the head of the BSC was taken out by a Pumas member seeking vengeance, Randy took over.

Together, Randy and Bobby orchestrated a massive attack on their rivals, crippling them and taking out several of their leaders. Then Los Pumas counterattacked. It was all-out warfare between the two gangs for years. Denver Police tried to stop them. But the gangs overwhelmed them, and things spun out of control.

The virus changed everything. It decimated the numbers of the Pumas, but the BSC was devastated as well. Everything was crumbling.

When Randy died from the Hosta, Bobby didn’t have much time to mourn. As the new leader of what was left of the BSC, he had to step up to plate.

While people all over were dying, Bobby got organized. He had his surviving members meet to discuss the future. The first priority was taking over resources and expanding the territory. Now, not only would the BSC have to defend themselves and their possessions, but they would have to worry about having enough food, gas, and other supplies.

The second priority was recruitment. With the city falling into chaos and uncertainty, Bobby was surprised that more survivors of the virus didn’t willingly join the BSC for protection. It helped a little when the gang took over all the supermarkets, gun stores, gas stations, car lots, big box stores, and office buildings. People started to go hungry and had no choice but to join up with the gang.

But Bobby became aware that many people were trying to flee the city. They didn’t want anything to do with the gang. And that enraged him.

He couldn’t let all these healthy people escape – he needed their labor. So one of his first courses of action was to station guards all over the city to prevent people from leaving. They shut down the interstates first, then moved on to the smaller roads. Soon, the population of Denver that was left was trapped in the city.

Most of them surrendered and accepted their new fate in life. Some fought. And the ones who did, mostly lost.

The troublemakers were sent to work camps. The camps and farms addressed the third priority: to become self-sustainable.

Bobby didn’t know anything about farming. But he knew that truck deliveries bringing in food to the city were a thing of the past. So he made sure his recruitment soldiers brought him anyone with agricultural experience. Once he had assembled a group of farmers, engineers, and even a soil scientist or two, he sent them to manage the farms. They rest of the recruits, the ones Bobby couldn’t use as soldiers, were sent to the high-security farms and water treatment plants to spend their days working to feed the BSC’s new empire.

It was all starting to come together. Sure, the population was slashed. Denver was no longer a bustling city. But that just meant Bobby didn’t have to worry about the law anymore. Now, everything was ripe for the taking. And there was almost no one to stop him.

Of course, he still had to deal with attacks from Los Pumas. The rival gang was also recovering from their reduction in numbers. Bobby got word they were recruiting survivors from the suburbs to the north. The Pumas still held their territory in the northern-most parts of Denver, but they became less and less of a threat as the BSC expanded and took over more resources.

No one was fiercer or better organized than Bobby and his crew. The BSC now controlled most of Denver, and they would work on taking over the territory held by Los Pumas. Eventually, they would travel to Boulder, Fort Collins, and Colorado Springs to scour the area for surviving people to join the BSC as security, operations, or on the work camps.

Soon, the BSC would control all of Colorado, and then they’d set their sights bigger. They’d take over the farmland of Kansas and comb the neighboring states of New Mexico, Utah and Arizona for survivors. Hell, one day they’d take over California and the rest of the West Coast. As far as Bobby was concerned, the entire country was just there for the taking. There was no limit to how far he could climb.

They’d rebuild cities and infrastructure, with BSC operations in every town. They’d create a legion of members who would blindly carry out Bobby’s orders. This was beyond his wildest imagining as a kid on the streets. It was beyond anything his brother had ever imagined, either.

Bobby was going to be king.

His hand went to the pistol on the table. Tucking the gun in his waistband, he felt his shoulder twitch. It was a nervous tic he’d had for years, and he hid it well. Today, though, it irritated him. He didn’t want to be reminded of his mortality. He liked to think of himself, like his operation, as a perfect machine. There was no room for flaws.

And his dealings with the little ragtag group from New Mexico had been a thorn in his side for a few days now. His men had failed him, over and over again.

First the little showing at the truck stop. The three idiots in charge of the interstate truck stops in the southern suburbs had botched it up. Some woman had shot one of them and given another a concussion.

And before she escaped, she managed to steal one of his men’s guns. Aaron, who had lost his gun to her, had made his second big mistake in one day: he’d had the nerve to show his face to Bobby again.

Then another few trucks with New Mexico plates charged into his city like they owned the place. Whenever someone from out of town drove into Denver, the protocol was to gun them down, remove any of their weapons (though most people had none), and bring them to headquarters for their assignments. Most people went to the work camps, unless it was a tough guy who Bobby thought could be put to work on security, or someone with specialized knowledge Bobby could use.

But these clowns from New Mexico had driven into Bobby’s turf. His men had spotted three vehicles, but had somehow lost track of two of them, because they radioed in that they saw only one turning around at the road block.

Somehow, those bastards were able to take down five of his men. And they made off with their weapons and ammo.

But the final blow had come a couple of nights ago. Bobby was enraged by the tenacity of these outsiders to come riding through his turf and take out several of his soldiers. He’d sent in a fleet of guys to the cabin where the bastards were staying near Idaho Springs. He had expected that would be the end of them.

He was wrong.

Every one of his soldiers had fallen. Every one.

It had been a slap in the face. A handful of nobodies from New Mexico, half of them women and children, had gunned down his men? Somebody would have to pay the price for this.

Bobby had gotten some satisfaction when one of the spies he had sent to the cabin had dragged back with his tail between his legs. Apparently the guy had been knocked unconscious for most of the battle, and he escaped after the group had left the cabin.

The spy had been stupid enough to return to Denver, which was good for Bobby. He gave Bobby useful information about the group, including the name of the leader. Nick.

But the little crew from New Mexico were still out there. They had escaped to the mountains, and none of Bobby’s men had found them. But it was just a matter of time. The BSC were crawling all over those peaks. Sooner or later, they’d run into the little group. And that would be the end of them.

A BMW speeding through downtown stopped in front of the hotel. Bobby looked down at the SUV and smiled. It was one of the men he’d sent to the mountains.

He better have good news.

A moment later, a knock at the door. Bobby bellowed for Gabrielle, his best girl and head assistant, to come in. Not only was she gorgeous, but she had Bobby’s back.

“Bobby, there’s someone here to see you.”

He held up his hand to stop her advance toward him, and she stuck out her lower lip in a pout.

“I’ll meet him downstairs,” Bobby said.

He watched as she turned on her stiletto heels and disappeared out the door.

Bobby threw on his leather jacket and left the room soon after Gabrielle. He took the stairs down calmly, then breezed into the hotel lobby, where several guards were stationed. Travis stood by the door, waiting for his boss. Bobby looked at his face, trying to read it, but it was blank.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Bobby said without breaking his stride.

Travis fell into step with him, following him out the front entrance into the street. He still hadn’t said anything. Which could only mean one thing.

Bobby led him into the parking lot. His shoulder twitched.

“So, what’s the word, Travis?”

Travis took a deep breath. “We saw them. They were heading north on a rural road –”

“Which one?” Bobby interrupted.

“State Highway 311, in the middle of nowhere. I clocked it. They were stopped twenty-five miles north of the intersection with 276.”

“Go on.”

“Well, Randolph and I were parked off the road, overlooking this big valley, when we hear voices. We couldn’t see who it was at first, they were too far away. So we had to get closer. But we wanted to surprise them, so we walked along the side of the ridge – we didn’t drive, I swear. We didn’t start the car or nothing; we were really careful. Just like you told us to be.”

“Spill it, Travis.”

Travis’s face turned red as he struggled to find his words.

“We saw it was them. They’re in only three trucks now, but …”

“Which three?”

“The Forest Service one, the Dodge Ram, and the Ford. That Ford was all shot up, though.”

Bobby nodded his head impatiently.

“There’s still eight of them. Anyway, me and Randolph got behind some big rocks where we could get a good shot on them. I shot first. I was aiming for the bigger guy. But man, that guy is so fast. He was firing back at me before I could squeeze the trigger again.”

Travis looked down at his hands, which were fidgeting nervously as he spoke. He shoved them in his pants pockets and continued.

“Then that blonde girl started shooting at us. Then the rest of them started shooting at us, too. It was all me and Randolph could do to keep up.”

“All of them were shooting?” Bobby asked, his eyes narrowing. “Was the little girl firing an AK?”

Travis’s hands flew out of his pockets to gesture nervously again. “Okay, maybe not all of them. But there were a lot of guns shooting at us. We were outnumbered.”

“And Randolph?”

“He got hit,” Travis said, flinching. “In the head. Died pretty much immediately. I was going to get hit too, if I didn’t get out of there. I figured it’d be better for me to come back and report their whereabouts. If I got killed back there, it wouldn’t do you any good, would it?”

“That’s right, Travis,” Bobby said. “It wouldn’t.”

A nervous smile spread across Travis’s face.

“So you’re not pissed, boss?”

“I’m a reasonable man, Travis,” Bobby said. “Now get back to your guard station in Stonegate. I need you down there.”

Travis’s face lit up.

“Oh, thank you, Bobby! You’re a good man for not holding this against me. I have to say, I was pretty scared to come back here.”

Travis beamed, shook Bobby’s hand, and turned away. He walked off toward the front of the hotel where his BMW was parked with a bounce in his step.

Bobby pulled out his pistol as Travis skipped off. The single, deafening shot broke the silence.

Travis staggered forward, hanging onto his balance for just a split second, before he crumpled to the ground with a thud.

Gabrielle and several of the guards came running into the parking lot with weapons raised. When they saw Travis lying dead on the asphalt, they lowered their firearms.

Gabrielle froze for just a moment. Before the shock and horror could settle on her face, she replaced it with her usual steely expression. She propelled herself forward, sidling up to Bobby like a cat.

“He let you down, baby?”

“Yeah, he did,” Bobby said. He holstered his gun and ran a thumb over Gabrielle’s cheek.

He raised his voice and spoke to the guards. “Don’t let anyone move this body. I want everyone to see this. Everyone needs to know what happens when you don’t follow orders.”

The guards nodded and returned to their posts silently. Bobby refused Gabrielle’s advances and returned to his hotel room alone.

How had the group from New Mexico been able to cause such a ripple in his operation? How had they been able to escape defeat from his best guys?

He was going to take those bastards down.

Even if it was the last thing he did, those people were going to pay.

18

Daniel’s heart began to pound as he drove through the quiet town. As he approached the far end of the neighborhood, where the handful of city streets converged at the single road out of town and the only exit, he leaned forward to get a better view.

“What are they doing?” his mother asked breathlessly.

As the truck moved toward them, the people in the road came into view.

Anne gasped.

A barefoot woman in a tattered dress stood beside a man with a long beard. A small child of about ten stood off to the side. All three of them had guns – the man with a shotgun and the woman and child with pistols. As Daniel drove toward them, they raised their guns and aimed at the truck.

Daniel applied the brakes and came to an abrupt stop, his tires skidding.

“Get down!” he instructed his mother, and watched as she ducked down as far as she could in the floorboard.

With his hands shaking, he rolled the window down partially and held his hands up out into the early afternoon light.

“Don’t shoot!” he called from behind the steering wheel. “We’re just trying to leave your town. If you’ll let us pass, we won’t bother you anymore. We won’t hurt you, I swear!”

The people didn’t answer, but the man moved his gun toward Daniel.

Daniel ducked down below the steering wheel just as the man fired. The shot missed the truck completely.

His mother yelped. “Let’s get out of here, Daniel!” she cried.

Daniel’s mind raced. Should he return fire? Should he turn around and retreat back into the town? But there could be others waiting behind him. And this road was the only way out of town.

Barbed wire fencing, cacti and forest lined the sides of the country road.

“There’s nowhere to go! They’re standing in the middle of the road.”

Nowhere to go but forward.

Daniel slid lower in his seat to gain as much cover as possible. He raised the window and jumped as another shot rang out, hitting the dirt several feet from the truck.

“Hold on, Mom,” he said, throwing the shifter into gear. “And stay down.”

The truck set out with a lurch. The gunfire began to come faster as all three of the people on the road started to shoot. Daniel kept to the right side of the street, headed directly for the spot where the man stood, blocking the way.

As the Nissan truck hurtled down the road, the three people kept their position, continuing to shoot. The distance between them and the truck rapidly closed in as a shot hit Daniel’s window. The glass shattered.

But they were too close now to turn back. Daniel accelerated. The woman and child jumped away, running to safety. The man pulled his trigger twice more.

Daniel could see his face for just a split second as the truck was nearly on top of him. The man’s eyes were wild, boring into Daniel with a viciousness he had never seen before.

At the very last second, the shotgun-wielding lunatic jumped out of the way, throwing himself off the road.

Daniel sped past, and in a moment the shots continued from behind them. This time, though, nothing hit them, and soon, they were out of range.

Anne ventured to poke her head up enough to look out the back window.

“Thank God, we’re safe now,” she said.

Daniel looked at her with big eyes. He was panicked.

His hands shook as he tried to steer and keep the truck steady on the road. He felt dizzy and disoriented, but he pushed himself to keep driving. He had to get them as far away as possible. They couldn’t stop now – what if those crazy people had a vehicle to follow them?

“What is it?” Anne asked as her gaze fell on Daniel, who was turning white.

Her eyes moved to the red splatter on the seat behind her son. She jumped. Her fading terror was instantly restored tenfold.

“Oh my God, you’ve been shot!”

19

The road seemed to be never-ending. Nick and Jessa drove the two trucks through the white-knuckle mountain passes all morning and well into the afternoon. The hunger and fatigue were bad enough, but the tension and fear of running into another SUV full of gang members took their toll on the eight travelers.

“I’ve got to lie down,” Bethany said suddenly as Jessa began to ascend another steep hill in the Forest Service truck. “I can’t go any farther without some rest.”

Jessa glanced at her, taking her eyes off the road momentarily. She saw the fatigue and pain etched in Bethany’s face. She gripped her round belly as she shuffled in her seat, trying to relieve the sciatic nerve pain running down her leg.

Jessa bit her lip. She didn’t want to push a thirty-seven-week pregnant woman to do more than she could. In different circumstances, Jessa would have been happy to pull over and find Bethany a place to rest. But there were no empty hotels or houses in sight – there hadn’t been for miles. And stopping to rest in plain sight on the highway would be asking for trouble.

“I know it’s hard,” Jessa said. “But maybe we’ll pass by something soon. There’s got to be a cabin somewhere in these woods. Can you wait just a little longer?”

Bethany grimaced and shook her head.

“No, I can’t take it anymore. I’ve got to get out and rest.”

Jessa knew she was struggling. Bethany wasn’t one to complain much, so Jessa took her words seriously.

Bethany brushed tears away. “I’m sorry, I know I’m a burden. I guess I should have stayed in New Mexico when I had the chance. I’m just slowing everyone down and putting us all in danger.”

Jessa reached over and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.”

In the backseat, Liz kept her head down. She had motion sickness from being tossed around on the curvy roads, and being cramped in the close confines of the back seat of the truck made her nausea worse. The idea of getting out and taking a break sounded good to her.

“I’ll flag Nick down,” Jessa said. She flashed her lights and slowed down.

Nick slowed down in the Dodge, and Jessa pulled her truck alongside his.

“Bethany needs to rest,” Jessa said. “She’s feeling really bad and needs to lie down. There was a little dirt road back there about a mile and a half. I think we should drive down there and see if we come across anything. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Nick looked at Bethany, who was leaned against her headrest with her eyes closed.

“I’ll follow you,” Nick said.

They turned the trucks around and made it back to the side road that split off the main state road they had been traveling on. It was a nondescript road with no signs. Heavy forest lined it on both sides. It didn’t seem to Jessa that anyone would have built a home down this isolated road, but she hoped for Bethany’s sake that she would be wrong.

They traveled the road for two miles until it ended in a dead end with a small cul-de-sac with room to turn around.

Jessa stopped the truck. Without waiting, Bethany opened her door and stepped down.

“This is a weird road,” Jessa muttered to herself. “Maybe it’s an old Forest Service road they don’t use anymore and stopped maintaining. But that doesn’t make sense…”

“Hey, Jessa,” Liz interrupted. “Can you get out so we can climb out, too?”

“Oh, sorry,” Jessa said, hopping out and moving the seat forward so Liz could climb into the front and stagger out the driver’s side door.

Liz bent over with her hands on her thighs, catching her breath.

“Car sickness?” Jessa asked sympathetically.

Liz nodded, flashing Jessa a weak smile.

Nick and the rest of the group got out of the Dodge. He threw a glance at Bethany, who was leaned over the back of the Chevrolet.

“You all right, Bethany?”

“I could really use a bed right about now,” she said. “I really need to get the weight off my back. It’s killing me.”

“What should we do?” asked Charlie. “We haven’t seen anything since we left the ski lodge. It’s totally deserted out here. I had no idea the wilderness out here was so… big.”

Nick looked at Jessa, then away. He thought of his wife Kaitlyn’s pregnancy. It had been difficult for her, especially at the end when she was miserable with back pain and exhaustion.

“We still have a little camping gear,” Nick said. “We could set up a tent with a sleeping bag and a pad underneath. Would that help?”

Bethany’s face lit up and she nodded enthusiastically. “That would be great.”

Nick found a spot off the road big enough for the tent, then he got started assembling it. Bethany looked at the tent nestled among the trees spread out across a blanket of pine needles, and her lip quivered.

“Thank you so much. It’s perfect,” she said. “I feel so bad you guys have to wait for me like this.”

“Go lie down already,” Jessa said playfully. “And quit apologizing.”

Bethany nodded and crawled in the tent.

“There’s room in here for someone else, you know,” Bethany called out over her shoulder. “In case anyone else needs a nap. I’m big, but I’m not that big.”

Liz looked down at Mia, whose eyes were heavy.

“Why don’t you go take a nap?” Liz asked. “You look so sleepy.”

Mia smiled sheepishly and looked at Jessa, who shooed her toward the tent.

“Better rest up now, kiddo,” Jessa said.

Mia climbed in the tent behind Bethany and got settled. Jessa zipped up the netting to keep the mosquitoes out.

“It’s kind of a relief to be off the main road for a while,” Liz said, sitting on the rear bumper of the Chevy. “I felt like we were going to run into the BSC around every corner.”

“Yeah, me too,” Charlie said.

“Are we even going to make it out of here today?” Matt asked. “I feel like we’re not making good time.”

“We’re not,” Nick said. “The maps don’t show the topography. So we underestimated the travel time. With these roads as curvy and dangerous as they are, we can’t go as fast as we thought.”

“So we’re going to have to spend the night up here?” Jessa asked.

“Maybe,” Nick said, pulling his map out and giving it a quick study.

He sighed. That landslide blocking the southern route had really thrown them a curveball. The northern route they were now on was much longer. Not to mention it was apparently guarded by the BSC.

He folded the map up. Depending on how long Bethany needed to rest, the chances were looking slim that they’d make it out of the mountains that day. And that meant they’d need to spend time hunting, which would delay them even more.

“I think some of us better go ahead and scout the area while the rest of you rest,” he said. “Make sure the next few miles on the main road are clear. We can check out some more of the side streets like Trina suggested earlier. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some cabin tucked away down one of these little roads.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jessa said.

“Me, too,” Matt volunteered.

“I’ll go,” Liz offered. “As long as I can sit up front this time.”

Jessa smiled. “Sure, I’ll take the back.”

“So that leaves Trina and Charlie. Are you two OK with keeping watch while Bethany and Mia rest?” Nick asked.

“Sure,” Charlie said. “We can hold down the fort. Right, Trina?”

“Of course,” Trina said.

Nick grabbed a suitcase out of the cargo bed of the Forest Service truck. “No sense in hauling around all this stuff if we’re coming right back. We’ll save on gas this way.”

They unloaded some of the weight from the back, then Nick, Jessa, Liz and Matt climbed in the truck.

“We should be back before too long,” Nick said to Trina and Charlie who watched them load up. “If we can’t find anything after an hour, we’ll turn around and come back here.”

Charlie gave a big, goofy wave as they pulled out. “Stay safe.”

He and Trina watched as the truck disappeared down the dusty road, leaving them in the silence of the forest again.

Trina grabbed her rifle and sat down on the forest floor, leaning against a tree. “Doesn’t seem much point in keeping watch out here. No one’s coming down that road except Nick. And even if someone did, we’d hear them a mile away.”

Charlie grinned and picked his own pine tree to lean against, keeping his rifle within reach. “I thought you would’ve learned by now, Trina.”

“What’s that?”

“Things go wrong when you least expect them.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Trina said. She looked at the rifle she had placed on the ground and brought it a little closer.

20

Garrison Reynolds could scarcely contain his excitement.

Everything had been worth this opportunity. All the loneliness, all the rejection from his peers.

Finally, he would come out on top. His lonely existence was going to change at last.

An assistant professor at the University of Colorado, he was used to leading a solitary life. Of course, being an immunologist made it difficult to make friends with the public at large. Most people weren’t interested in hearing about cell structure. And he had never quite learned how to make small talk.

But he could never fit in with his colleagues, either. He was ostracized in undergrad, shunned in graduate school. As a professor and scientist, he was respected for his rigorous research and teaching style. But for some reason, the other members of his academic world avoided him.

It troubled him to no end, and he never understood why. Over the years, he had chalked it up to his position at the top. Genius was isolating. Other people just envied his brilliance. He heard some whispers once or twice. It was easy for them to call him crazy. People feared what they couldn’t understand.

Maybe it was his interest in guns and outdoor survival. He wasn’t like his colleagues, who seemed to trust the government blindly. Every time he talked about the collapse of civilization, people gave him strange looks. So he kept to himself more and more.

He had tried to be content in his solitude. He poured himself into his work and his hobbies. He told himself he didn’t mind living alone and keeping to himself. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

As he got into his thirties, and then forties, he saw the people around him finding spouses and having kids. Yes, that was what he needed. A family.

Then he wouldn’t feel so alone. He needed someone to share his life with.

But women just weren’t interested in him. They never had been. He didn’t understand it. He was lean and fit. At forty-four, he was losing some hair, but he wasn’t bad-looking.

Still, though, women seemed nervous, uneasy, around him. It was almost as if they were afraid of him.

He had all but given up on the idea. Instead, he began to focus his energy toward his future. If society rejected him, he wanted nothing to do with it. He would begin to prepare for what he had always known was coming: the end of the American lifestyle.

Several years ago, he had bought a remote property with his meager savings. It was buried in the woods with only a small dirt road leading up to it. With a natural spring on the land, he would have access to the best water. And of course, the end of civilization would destroy any access to gridded electricity, so he didn’t worry about that either.

He was able to build a simple cabin during a sabbatical from the university, and since then had been working to improve it. Most weekends he drove out from Denver to work on the endless projects he had to improve it. Recently he had set up a solar system.

The property was extremely remote, tucked away among the wilderness southwest of Denver. After completing construction of the cabin several years back, he had let the long road leading up to the edge of his property grow over. He began parking his truck in a small clearing a few dozen yards past the end of the state road. Garrison would cover the truck with a few camouflage tarps, then drag limbs, saplings, and forest debris on top of that. A few more limbs and dead logs over the narrow path he drove in on to park the truck, and his tracks were covered. The path, and his truck, were nearly invisible to the casual observer.

The rest of the way to the cabin was covered in untouched woods. He took a different route each time he walked between his truck and his cabin so that there was no path.

It was a long distance with lots of twists and turns. After a while, he knew the woods like the back of his hand. Even better, it had become difficult for anyone else to locate the cabin with no trails leading up to it and its location so far from the state road.

It was just as he liked it. He didn’t want just anyone to find him here.

When the Hosta virus broke out, he was stunned. But he wasn’t surprised.

Like the research facilities the world over, his lab tried to help. He and the other scientists in his department began to work furiously for a cure. He had tried to warn his colleagues that something like this was bound to happen, but no one had ever listened. And when it finally did happen, they didn’t even have the decency to admit he had been right all along.

Despite his bitterness, he tried his best to develop an effective antiviral therapy. Once Denver had its first Hosta case, they isolated the virus and studied it day and night. Camping out in the lab, Garrison worked endlessly.

Garrison’s team tried an experimental therapy in infected mice to stop the virus from reproducing within cells. The new technology programmed cells to die – essentially, commit suicide – when coming in contact with Hosta. When that didn’t work, they tried protease inhibitors.

But nothing worked. The Hosta molecule developed resistance to any antiviral agents. The researchers watched the mice die faster and faster.

Then, the scientists began to die.

When Garrison saw his coworkers wake up with discolored skin, he knew there was no escape. Despite their highest security and most rigorous safety protocols, the virus had resisted their attempts to contain it. To call it highly communicative was an understatement. There was no point in trying to enter a quarantine once the virus had gotten within a several mile radius.

A handful of mice survived even with exposure to the virus, and it gave Garrison hope. A four percent survival rate was determined. While everyone around him had gray skin and bulging eyes, Garrison remained healthy.

He had always been the odd person out. Why should his immune system be any different?

He watched the news reports alone in the laboratory as panic spread across the world. There wasn’t a single researcher that could stop this thing. Politicians cautioned citizens to not panic, until the politicians disappeared – gone underground in a futile attempt to quarantine, Garrison assumed.

People argued on the news about the likely cause of the virus. But Garrison figured it was the North Koreans. He had heard speculation over the years of them trying to develop a biological weapon. He reckoned they had finally succeeded.

In any case, the news broadcasts didn’t last long. Soon, there were no more updates on the TV, radio, or internet. Then the power went off.

Whatever the reason, the Hosta virus was out of control. There was no cure that he could conceive of, and most of Denver was dying.

His little house in town was near the university. He started to hear gunshots more frequently. A fraction of the population was left, and they were killing each other. There was no reason left to stay.

He packed up what he had, which wasn’t much. His city house had been mostly empty. He wanted to bring more food with him to his mountain home to supplement his supplies. But he quickly found that all the supermarkets and convenience stores were under gang control. He decided it wasn’t a big problem. His supplies at the cabin were decent. And anyway, it would force him to spend more time hunting and trapping. He’d make it through the winter with wild game, then he’d plant a garden in the spring.

The issue of his medicine, however, was a problem. He didn’t have much of his drug left. And the pharmacies were guarded by gangs as well. He didn’t want to tangle with them, so he gave up on the idea of stocking up. He’d have to find a way to live without his prescription drug. He’d be all right.

It was time for him to start a new life away from everything. He regretted that he had no family to share his life with. On the other hand, there would be no one in the woods to call him crazy. No one to reject him. That part, at least, would be a relief.

Garrison retreated to the woods. He ran out of his pills quickly. But he was amazed to find that he felt much better off them. He was more vibrant and creative. His senses were sharper. He laughed to himself when he realized that he hadn’t needed the medication after all.

At some point after being alone in the cabin, his ideas started to change. He had a feeling that he would find his family after all. He didn’t know how yet, but some part of him was sure that he would have a wife and child. They would come to him.

The longer he spent up in his hideaway, the more changes he saw in himself. He started to feel confident, invincible. This would be his time to shine. Finally, Garrison would have the life he had always deserved. It took a virus that wiped out modern society to finally bring him justice.

The sound of vehicles had roused him from his work in the cabin. After three weeks alone on his property, hunting and trapping with no noise from the outside world, he finally heard trucks on the little road below.

Grabbing his Remington, he quietly emerged from his cabin. He stealthily moved through the forest, stopping every few yards to check for any intruders. When he arrived at his lookout point, a high spot with a view of the dead-end dirt road below, he looked through his binoculars.

There were eight, most of them armed with guns. Why had they appeared? Were they looking for him? His thoughts came furiously; his hands grew sweaty.

Then he saw her: a beautiful, pregnant woman with a halo of curly brown hair. Looking at her swollen belly, his heart raced. And standing beside her was a perfect little girl with doe eyes and fine, dark hair that shook around her face when she moved her head.

They’re finally here.

He waited, watching the people discuss something.

Then, miraculously, four of them left in one of the trucks. The pregnant woman and the little girl stayed behind. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. A smile spread across his face.

It was destiny. Finally, he would claim what was his, what he deserved.

A family.

There were two others – an injured man and a small woman. Nothing he couldn’t handle. The small woman he didn’t want. Her expression looked argumentative. And besides, he had already found his new wife.

He didn’t know how long the four others would be gone. Perhaps they were scouting ahead for shelter while the others rested. If so, he surely had a good while.

The curly-headed woman and the child were resting in a tent. The other two sat nearby with rifles. He watched them for several minutes, then set out down the hill toward them.

He approached, getting just a few yards away, waiting behind a stand of thick trees. There was a strong breeze going, which was good. The sound of the wind whistling between the trees disguised any noise he made, which was minimal. He had gotten good at moving silently through the forest the past few days of tracking animals.

He waited for several minutes, patient for the right opportunity to make his move. Finally, it came.

The woman in athletic clothes who was on guard moved to her feet and stretched her arms overhead. She grabbed her rifle and slung the strap over her shoulder. He could tell from the way she handled it she wasn’t very comfortable with the firearm. She said something to the man, then trotted off in the woods in the opposite direction from Garrison.

He had to move, now.

He advanced quickly through the woods, still careful to minimize the sounds he made. The man sitting against the tree was within his reach. Garrison paused for just a moment to plan his next move.

Garrison could see the back of his head, could hear his breathing. He sat cross-legged with the rifle in his lap.

Garrison leapt forward, pinning the rifle down with one arm and using the other to bring a rag soaked in isoflurane to cover the guy’s mouth and nose. The unsuspecting man fought for a couple of moments, then went limp and slumped over to his side. The chemical worked quickly.

Darting his eyes around as he slipped the rifle out of the man’s lap, Garrison saw no sign of the woman. She must have gone into the woods to relieve herself, which meant she could be back at any second. He had to move quickly. Retreating back into the woods a small distance, he moved toward where the woman had gone. He again hid himself, this time behind some shrubs. He applied more of the isoflurane to the rag.

Soon, he heard her stomping through the woods with her head down. He pounced on her, grabbing her rifle and covering her face with the rag. When she went limp like a rag doll, he let her fall on the ground.

He slung the second rifle over his shoulder, then turned toward the tent.

He was ready to meet his new family.

21

Mia was exhausted.

She fell asleep as soon as she lay down in the sleeping bag.

But she hadn’t been asleep long when she felt herself being grabbed by rough hands. They were dragging her by her legs. In her sleepy confusion, she didn’t know what was happening. When she finally opened her eyes, she couldn’t see who was grabbing her. He flipped her on her belly, and he was tying her hands together behind her back.

She screamed and kicked, tried to twist out of his grasp. Bethany was still asleep, and she was such a heavy sleeper that not even Mia’s screams woke her.

The man set her back down in the tent, and she finally could get a look at him. He had a long beard and glasses, icy blue eyes and light brown hair, a flannel shirt and jeans. But something was wrong with him. She saw it instantly.

He was insane.

“No one can hear you scream,” he said, grinning at her.

He blocked the tent door and wouldn’t let her out. He grabbed Bethany’s feet and shook her, jostling her until she awoke. Bethany’s eyes were slow to open, and when they finally fell on the strange man, they opened up in terror.

She kicked at him and he lunged at her, tying her hands behind her back as well.

“No! Let me go!” Bethany screamed, thrashing wildly. “Charlie! Trina! Help!”

Her crazed eyes caught sight of Mia shaking in the corner.

“Run, Mia!” she screamed.

But the man had them both trapped. He had two rifles on his back and Mia was afraid one might go off as he struggled with them.

Soon, he backed out of the tent and looked at his two captives.

“Your friends are unconscious. There’s no one to save you. We’re leaving. Get up and start walking.”

Mia peeked at Bethany, who looked fierce and angry. “We’re not going anywhere.”

He picked up a third rifle from the ground outside the tent and pointed it at them.

“Get out,” he said evenly, with narrow eyes. “Now. If you want to live long enough to see your baby, that is.”

Bethany’s shoulders began to shake as she wept. Mia watched as she scooted on her knees to the tent door. The man jerked her up to her feet, holding on to her arm.

In a flurry of frantic activity, Bethany tried to wrestle her arm free and bolt, but the man had her tight.

“You’re not getting away from me, so there’s no use in fighting it,” he said. “This is your destiny.”

He glanced at Mia, who was huddled in the corner of the tent, trapped like a wild animal. He motioned with his head for her to go to him.

“Come on out, girl.”

Mia stared at him, panicked. Where were Trina and Charlie? And when would Nick and the others return? She had no idea how long they’d been sleeping. Maybe she could stall long enough until Nick returned.

He pointed the gun at her and her hands went cold. Suddenly, her ideas about stalling or running away vanished. All she could see or think about was that barrel aimed at her.

With her hands still tied behind her, she moved her bottom across the tent floor, stopping when she got to the door. Shaking, she looked up at him.

“That’s a good girl,” he sneered. “Now get out and stand up.”

Mia stepped out and stood beside Bethany, who was breathing fast. Her face was red as she scowled at the man.

Mia’s eyes searched frantically for any sign of Trina and Charlie. She gasped when she caught a glimpse of a body sprawled on the ground.

“Charlie!” she yelped.

Behind the man, she saw Charlie slumped over against a tree. His eyes were closed, and he lay motionless.

Mia hated the sight of Charlie lying helpless on the ground. She couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not, didn’t know if he was alive or dead.

“Trina! Trina, where are you? Help us!” Bethany called out, twisting around to look for her.

When she stopped screaming, the silence of the forest returned.

“Where’s Trina?” Bethany asked angrily. “What did you do to them?”

“Don’t worry about your friends,” the man said. “You’ll never see them again.”

“You won’t get away with this,” Bethany hissed.

He laughed.

“Start walking.”

Bethany stared at the man for a moment. Finally, to Mia’s surprise, Bethany moved as if to begin walking up the hill. Instead, she lunged at the man, kicking at him between his legs and trying to wrench the gun from him with her shoulders. But he was too fast and stepped back before she could make contact.

He charged at Bethany, rearing back his hand and slapping her face hard. The sound of his hand hitting her cheek made Bethany flinch.

For just a brief second, Mia was back at her old home in Albuquerque, watching her dad raise his hand at Mia and her mother.

Mia squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath for a moment.

Make it stop!

Mia opened her eyes and parted her lips to take in air in a gulp. Bethany’s head was turned to the side from the force of the slap. She tried to catch her breath, panting.

Slowly, Bethany lifted her face and stood up straight, staring the man in the eye. Mia cringed, worrying her defiant posture would provoke his wrath again.

Instead, he laughed.

“Walk. Now,” he ordered. He motioned up the hill with his rifle.

Bethany scowled at him a moment longer, her eyes narrowing to silently express all the disgust she had for the man before her. Finally, she turned and began to walk in the direction he indicated up the hill. Mia paused a moment, looking at Charlie again before she turned and followed Bethany.

The man set out close behind them as they trudged up the hill into the forest. Mia snuck nervous glances at Bethany, who cried quietly as she glanced down at the girl.

They scaled the top of the steep hill and looked at the vast expanse of forest before them. Mia darted her eyes around, looking for any trails or landmarks in an attempt to locate where they were headed. But everything ahead of them looked the same: a dense, mixed forest of spruce and pine. Mia looked over her shoulder at the distance they had just crossed. She could only barely make out the road below.

“Help!” she called out at the top of her lungs over the forest below.

The man gave her a push forward. “Try that again and you’ll wish you hadn’t.”

The crazed look in his eyes convinced Mia that he was serious. Besides, no one seemed to be around to hear her screams.

She turned and again started through the woods. He directed them to turn slightly to the left, and they continued on, leaving the dead-end road where they had been sleeping behind. They veered a few minutes later to the right, then cut across a gentle slope in an arc. Soon, Mia had lost track of her orientation. With no idea of where they were in relation to the tent and the truck, she wouldn’t know which way to run even if she could.

They came to a small muddy patch. Mia veered just a bit to the left so that she’d walk through the wet earth. The man with the gun didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he stared intensely at Bethany.

“I don’t know why you would fight me,” he said as they trudged through the woods. “Don’t you recognize me?”

Bethany scoffed. “We’ve never seen you before today. How could we recognize you?”

He stopped walking. Mia and Bethany, aware of his pause, stopped as well and turned around to face him.

“I’m Garrison. I’m your husband,” he said, looking at Bethany. Then, to Mia, “And your father.”

Bethany stared at him for a moment, then burst out in laughter.

“Are you serious?”

He looked hurt. “Of course I am. This is meant to be. This is our shared destiny.”

Bethany laughed again. “You’re crazy.”

He watched her brown ringlets bounce as she shook her head.

“Bethany,” Mia muttered. “No.”

Mia wanted her to stop. The laughter made the girl nervous. Mia could sense the man’s rage bubbling inside him, growing in strength. His eyes grew steely as he watched Bethany laugh.

“You’re not my husband,” Bethany spat. “Or her father. You’re just some weak, deranged man. You’re a psycho!”

Garrison stood unmoving until suddenly, a look of fury swept over his face.

He snapped his arm up in a rage. He lifted the rifle and aimed at Bethany. Bethany flinched, closing her eyes.

Mia felt dizzy. It was all happening too fast, until the sound of her own voice made everything stop.

“Daddy, no!” Mia shouted. “Don’t shoot!”

The words caused the man to freeze. He shifted his gaze toward Mia. He looked confused.

“Don’t shoot, Daddy,” Mia repeated, her lips trembling. “Please don’t hurt her.”

With shaking hands, Garrison lowered the gun. He stared at Mia, blinking as the rage subsided.

“Sorry, sweetie,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that. Or your mother.”

Bethany was terrified, looking first at the gun, then at Garrison, then at Mia.

Mia exhaled. She was still shaking. Her attempt to defuse the situation worked, but it turned her stomach to call the man Daddy.

“Go on, Judy,” the man said, looking at Bethany. “Let’s go home.”

Bethany frowned at Garrison. It took her a moment to realize that Judy was, according to this psychopathic kidnapper taking her deep into the woods, her new name.

22

“My baby! They shot you!”

Anne cried. She leaned over to get a look at the wound on Daniel’s shoulder.

“I’m okay, Mom,” Daniel said instinctively. But the truth was, he felt woozy and was in terrible pain.

“Pull over,” she said. “I need to stop the bleeding. I can’t even see the wound from over here.”

Daniel shook his head.

“I’ve got to get us out of here. I don’t want those people following us.”

Anne saw the blood spilling down Daniel’s shirt and gasped. “You’re losing a lot of blood, Daniel. You need to let me look at your wound!”

He ignored her, pressing the truck onward as they sped down the road.

“I can’t stop now, Mom. Let me get just a little farther away.”

Anne’s belly twisted in worry. The shot had gone through his left shoulder, and the back seat was splattered with blood. But she couldn’t get a good enough look at it to see just how bad it was.

She spotted some plants growing off the side of the road with clusters of tiny white flowers.

“At least pull over for a second so I can get that yarrow,” she said. “I’ll need it for your wound.”

He sighed, pulling the truck over. “Hurry.”

She jumped out of the vehicle and picked a handful of the wild plants, then climbed back in. As Daniel drove off, she began to pick the flowers and leaves off the long stems, pressing the material into large poultices. They approached an intersection with another state road.

“Turn here,” she said.

He started to object, but she interrupted him.

“Daniel, just do it. I’m not going to let you die out here.”

He turned down the road, drove a bit more, then pulled over. Anne hurried over to his side and looked at him.

“Oh my God, Daniel! It’s worse than I thought.”

The bullet had gone through the top, outer section of his left shoulder. She lifted the short-sleeved T-shirt over his head so she could see better.

The good news was that the injury had been restricted to his upper shoulder and was nowhere near any vital organs. The bad news was that the exit wound was nasty and gaping, and he was losing blood quickly.

Anne pressed the leaves of the yarrow against the entrance and exit wounds.

“What is that stuff?” he asked groggily.

“Yarrow. It stops bleeding and is an antiseptic,” she said, fighting back the panic in her voice. She gently pushed his back against the seat to keep the yarrow in place while she moved to the bed of the truck.

She moved his right hand to the yarrow compress on the front side. “Hold this here and press hard.”

She shuffled to the back of the truck and began to dig through her suitcase.

“Mom, we need to get out of here,” he called to her frantically as she found her first aid kit.

The adrenaline in Daniel’s veins was wearing off, and he was starting to speak more slowly. His pain receptors kicked in as she returned to his side and looked at his shoulder again.

“I’m sorry,” she said, moving him gently as he grimaced. “I’ve got to stop the bleeding. And we’re not leaving until I do. If those people find us down here, I’ll shoot them myself.”

Anne pulled out a small vial of ibuprofen and handed a few pills to her son.

“Take these.”

He gulped them down. “I’m starting to feel this thing now. It hurts like hell.”

She put on some gloves, then she applied pressure with the yarrow, pressing some clean gauze against the wound to stop the bleeding.

She had one water bottle left. She had saved it in her bag just for an emergency like this. Slowly pouring the water on the wound, she flushed away any debris. Then she opened a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and poured that on the wound.

Daniel yelped and pounded his fist in the seat, but she worked on, mumbling to herself.

“I almost lost you in the woods when you sliced your leg open. I’m not going to lose you again,” she said.

The wound was gaping and wouldn’t close on its own. She would have to give him stitches. The thought terrified her, but she made herself keep moving. She didn’t want to have any time to think about what could go wrong. She just had to keep working before the doubt crept in.

Taking the scissors from the first aid kit, she tore open the package they were in and removed the tool. She trimmed away a tiny bit of jagged flesh from the wound so that the border would be smooth.

She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. She had seen someone give stitches a few times, and her brother, a nurse, had shown her the basics. But she had never actually done it before. Much less on her own son.

“Daniel, I have to give you stitches,” she said.

He shut his eyes and clenched his jaws. Sucking in air through his teeth, he nodded. “Just don’t let me see the needle.”

“Okay, then turn your head away,” she said.

She spread out her supplies on a clean bandage on the dashboard, then sterilized the needle with a lighter. Using the curved needle, she drove it in his skin.

He cried out in agony.

She took the needle out and sterilized it again. “Sorry, I think I went too deep.”

Anne took a couple of deep breaths. She had to get her hands to stop shaking. Blowing a breath out through her lips, she tried again. She stayed closer to the surface this time, and pulled the line through.

Daniel was gripping the steering wheel and turning his knuckles white.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I know this must be excruciating.”

She went on to sew him up with five stitches, tying the line off after each suture. When she was finished, she examined her work. The sutures were holding the skin together, and it looked fairly neat and uniform. Maybe it would work.

Anne looked at his face. His eyes were clamped shut.

“Are you all right, Daniel?”

“Is it over?” he asked.

Anne nodded. “Yes. I just need to patch up this wound on your chest.”

The entrance wound was smaller and didn’t need stitches. She dressed both wounds and he exhaled in relief.

“Let’s go,” she said, gathering up her supplies and slipping a clean shirt over Daniel’s head. “I’m driving.”

Daniel slid out of the driver’s seat and his forehead crinkled in pain.

“Wait!” Anne said. “Let me make you a sling.”

She looked in her suitcase and grabbed a thick wool shawl, tying it around his arm and securing it behind his head.

“This will keep your shoulder from moving so much. It will heal faster this way.”

He felt cool. She wrapped a blanket around him to keep him warm, and helped him sit on the passenger side. Anne started the truck quickly and took off without any time wasted.

The flurry of activity had exhausted Anne, but she didn’t want her son driving with a bullet wound. She pushed herself to stay strong and press on.

As she sped down the road, she reached over to brush Daniel’s hair out of his eyes.

“I’m sorry we had to stop in that town,” she said. “If only I hadn’t gotten sick, this never would have happened.”

“It’s not your fault, Mom,” he said between pained breaths. “But you should at least admit I was right.”

“About what?”

“That there were no spirits. It was just those crazy people the whole time.”

Anne smiled. “What do you think made them crazy?”

Daniel chuckled. “Ouch. It hurts to laugh.”

Anne looked over at her son as he watched the scenery blur by.

I hope it’s enough.

The bullet wound could have been much worse. A few inches down and to the side, and it would have been deadly. He seemed to be doing fairly well for having just been shot, and the stitches had at least prevented any traumatic loss of blood.

But Anne’s worries were far from over. There could be arterial damage, nerve injury . . . she didn’t even know what more could go wrong. Not to mention that he would need antibiotics. Once the ibuprofen ran out, she could give him willow bark for the pain. But she didn’t know of any plants that would be strong enough to fight infection in this kind of injury.

She knew the regional medicinal plants well, but in cases like Daniel’s injury, she had always been grateful for trained medical practitioners. She felt confident her brother would be able to look at Daniel’s shoulder and recommend the best course of action.

The only problem was that Anne herself was still ill, and she couldn’t risk the lives of her family and village by coming into contact with them.

Why am I sick?

It was a question she had asked herself over and over. It didn’t make sense. She had always been in good health, seemingly immune to the colds and flus when they swept through the village. So why was she now stuck with this flu-like illness?

Could it really be the Hosta virus?

It was unthinkable. That would mean the end of everything – her life, her family, her village. And she would be the one to contaminate them all.

But it couldn’t be the Hosta virus. She didn’t present with the textbook symptoms of gray skin and bulging eyes. The news reports had said it usually took less than three days to develop those symptoms, and she had been sick for longer than that.

It must just be the flu.

She looked over at Daniel again. Hosta or not, she had to get him help.

She couldn’t lose her son.

23

The crew of four in the light green Chevrolet continued heading north, but hadn’t seen anything, not even a back road forking off the highway, in a long time.

Things were looking worse and worse. The sun was starting to get lower in the sky, everyone’s tensions were high due to hunger and stress, and they still hadn’t found so much as an abandoned cabin.

“We better think about turning around soon,” Nick said. “I don’t like leaving the others back there for too long.”

“Well, we can’t turn back now,” Liz said. “We haven’t even found anything. Where will we spend the night if we have to turn around now?”

Nick rubbed his jaw. It was starting to get late, and his hope for making it out of the mountains that day was running out. Bethany couldn’t continue to push herself at this relentless pace. She needed food and rest. Otherwise, it would put the baby at risk.

The others, too, needed to sleep and eat. There was danger all around them – with one moment’s inattention or one sloppy move of the steering wheel, their vehicle could tumble down the sheer drop off the cliffs that the road curved around.

Not to mention the possibility of running into more gang members. Hell, at this point it had become more a question of when rather than if they would see more of the BSC. They needed to be alert to even have a chance of coming out of a confrontation alive.

If they couldn’t find an empty home or other building to sleep in, they’d be spending the night in the woods where they had left Bethany and Mia resting. There wasn’t nearly enough camping gear for everyone – just the tent, sleeping pad and sleeping bag that Mia and Bethany were using. That meant that everyone else would be without gear.

The nights were too cold to sleep on the forest floor without any blankets or sleeping bags. The last couple of nights were below freezing. Their empty stomachs made their internal body temperatures lower. How would they keep warm? With the gas tanks dipping lower, they couldn’t run the engine to stay warm. Sleeping in the trucks would not only be uncomfortable but possibly dangerous. Even wearing all the clothes they had, it still might not be enough. They would be at risk of hypothermia unless they found shelter.

“You’re right, Liz,” Nick said. “We’ll keep looking for a few more miles.”

Their situation seemed impossible.

As they drove through the road’s mountain switchbacks, Nick’s previous life seemed so far away. Just one month ago, he was living in Texas with his wife and son. He’d had a job and a daily routine. He worked hard, then spent evenings and weekends with his family and friends. He missed his extended family, but he saw them on holidays and vacations. His biggest worries had been about money, but even then, nothing was dire was about their financial situation.

He’d never worried about finding food. In fact, food had been all around him, and he had to try not to eat so much to keep his belly at bay after entering his mid-thirties. Kaitlyn had joked about his beer belly. Since leaving Texas, he had leaned out, and now his stomach felt so empty it hurt.

He had lived in comfort. Sure, he had done physical work on the job and on projects at home. He had always been pretty active. But there had been so much convenience that he hadn’t even really noticed until it was gone.

The taps with potable water, the refrigerators and microwaves that provided him with quick meals when even cooking a quick meal on the stove seemed like too much effort. The technology that kept him connected to loved ones and informed about the world. The gas stations that dispensed fuel to take him wherever he needed. The doctors and pharmacies that were always there to keep sickness at bay – at least up until Hosta.

It had all gone up in smoke.

It was mind-boggling how fast it had all disappeared, how quickly and totally the system had fallen apart. He and Kaitlyn and his brother Tim had all speculated for years what a breakdown in the system would look like. They had done their best to prepare for the worst. But nothing had prepared him for the real thing.

“Hey, isn’t that a road up there?”

His nephew’s voice roused him from his thoughts. Nick looked ahead and sure enough, off to the left was a small gravel road.

“Yes! Finally something,” Jessa said from the back seat. “There’s gotta be some little cabin down here. It looks like a private road.”

Nick turned onto the road, and felt his neck muscles relax a bit. Driving on the state road put him on edge, as if he were just waiting for the gang to start shooting at them.

The gravel road cut through more forest. After a half mile, he heard Liz sigh.

“It looks like just another road to nothing,” she complained. “Just more woods.”

Nick didn’t reply. He watched intensely as they continued for another couple of miles. The road worsened the farther they traveled, with deep potholes that had never been repaired from previous winters. He drove slowly.

Finally, the forest abruptly ended on the right side of the road and opened up into a meadow. Nick slowed, scanning the tree line.

“This would be a good place for a cabin,” Nick said. “But I don’t see anything.”

He passed the meadow and the forest closed in on them again. Five hundred feet farther, Jessa pointed to the side.

“Looks like a driveway.”

A small road, grown over with weeds, led into the thick, dark forest. They couldn’t see what the road led to.

Nick took a breath. “I don’t think we should drive down there.”

“What? And miss the only chance we’ve had to find a cabin?” Jessa asked doubtfully.

“I didn’t say I wanted to pass it up,” Nick replied, pulling the truck over to the side of the road. “I just don’t think we should drive sight unseen. What if there are hostile people down there? We can’t let them know we’re coming with the truck engine. Y’all wait here. I’m going to check it out on foot.”

“Like hell you are,” Jessa said stubbornly. “I’m going with you.”

Before Nick could respond, Jessa had already climbed out of the truck and was setting off down the track with her rifle.

Nick looked at Liz and Matt, who jumped out of the truck and stood with their guns.

“Wait here. We won’t take long,” Nick said to them.

He walked with Jessa beside the narrow track. They stuck to the shadows of the tree line and moved cautiously. After reaching the top of a hill, Jessa pointed.

“A cabin!” she exclaimed in hushed tones. “Look!”

Nick turned his head and squinted in the direction Jessa was pointing. At first he saw nothing, but then his eyes fell on it: an old log cabin at the far corner of a small clearing, partially hidden among a stand of trees.

Jessa grinned. “We finally found something! This is great.”

But Nick was a little more hesitant to celebrate.

“Not so fast,” he said. “We have to make sure it’s empty first.”

They crept closer to the log cabin until they had reached the clearing. A short driveway led to the structure.

“No cars,” Jessa observed. “So far, so good.”

Nick silently motioned for her to follow him as they approached the cabin. It had only two or three windows, and the log walls were dark with age and lack of maintenance. He stepped onto the porch and listened.

“Anybody home?” he called.

When there was no answer, he tried the door.

Locked.

Nick looked at the windows, planning to break one to climb in.

“I’ve got a surprise,” Jessa said. “I found a lock pick set at Chris’s place.”

She produced a wallet-sized kit from her back pocket that contained a tension wrench and several lock picks.

“It’ll be a lot warmer in there without a broken window,” she said.

“Do you know how to use that?” Nick asked.

She gave him a smile, but didn’t answer. He watched as she inserted the tension tool, then inserted a pick and raked it back and forth to unlock the door.

“Yet another skill Chris taught me that has come in handy,” Jessa said as she put the tools away and stepped inside.

“Too bad you didn’t have that kit in the truck stop the other day,” Nick said as he followed her.

Nick stepped in the cabin and looked around. It was dusty. The sound of something scurrying around was heard.

“Probably mice,” Nick said.

He walked around, looking through the living room, kitchen, and the bedroom. No one was there.

“It’s all clear,” he said.

Jessa went straight to the kitchen cabinets.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she said, flinging them open one by one. “Not a single thing to eat?”

All the shelves were bare, except for a few candles and some matches.

“This must have been someone’s hunting cabin or summer home,” Nick said, watching with disappointment as Jessa revealed all the cabinets to be empty. “But they didn’t keep any food here.”

“I guess they didn’t want to give the mice any more reason to stay.” Jessa closed the cabinets and looked around at the layers of dirt on the floor.

“Looks like no one’s been here in a few years,” Nick said.

“I’ll say,” Jessa said, coughing from all the dust she had stirred up in the kitchen.

“It’ll work for tonight,” Nick said. “With that wood stove, we can make it warm in here.”

“Yeah, at least we won’t be sleeping in the woods. But we’re all starving. We’ll have to hunt for food tonight.”

“Right.”

Nick crossed to the door. “Let’s go back for everyone else. We’ve got a lot to do before it gets dark.”

“Don’t you think one of us should stay here and get to work? I could cut some firewood while you guys are gone.”

Jessa looked at the empty box near the woodstove where the previous owners must have kept firewood.

Nick was tempted to take her up on her offer, but he thought better of it.

“I’d rather not split us up any more. It’s too dangerous that way.”

“Okay.” Jessa nodded. She knew he was worried about more surprises from the BSC. He was right – they should stay together when possible. “The firewood can wait.”

Jessa followed him out the door and they returned to the truck quickly to find Matt and Liz waiting. They told them about the cabin as they drove back out to the state road.

It was about an hour drive back to the spot where they had left the four others and the Dodge, and they passed it in silence.

Nick saw the Dodge at the end of the small side road where they had left it. The lime green tent sat in its place under the trees.

He heard Liz’s breath catch in her throat, then he saw it too.

Charlie was lying slumped over on the ground. Trina was nowhere in sight.

Liz jumped out of the truck and ran to Charlie’s side to check his pulse. Nick went straight for the tent. The door flap was open and blew in the breeze.

“They’re gone,” he said.

24

Bobby couldn’t get them out of his mind.

“Are you going somewhere, baby?”

Bobby looked at Gabrielle as she stood before him in the room. He couldn’t keep her out of the loop any longer. After she had knocked for the third time at his door, he finally let her in.

“Yeah, I’m headed out into the mountains for the day,” he said, packing his guns and ammo.

Gabrielle crossed her arms in front of her. “It’s for those people from New Mexico, isn’t it? You’re going chasing after them?”

Bobby glanced at her, then looked away. He sighed as he snapped the suitcase shut. He had dreaded telling Gabrielle the news. In fact, he had made all the arrangements on the radio so that she wouldn’t have much of a chance to stop him.

“I can’t let the sons of bitches get away with it, Gaby,” Bobby said.

“Just let them go, baby,” she said after he told her his plans. “Don’t run off into the mountains to fight those losers. They’re not even worth your time.”

“They took out BSC members,” Bobby said, staring at her. “Not just once, but several times now, they have defeated my men. You think I can just let them go when they’ve humiliated the whole organization? When they’ve taken out good soldiers?”

Gabrielle took a step closer to him. “Where did Travis say they were?”

“On State Highway 311, north of 276.”

Bobby pointed to the map.

“So they’re trying to get out of the mountains, right?”

“Yeah, and if I leave now, they’ll never make it out alive.”

Bobby folded the map and tossed it on the bed.

“But they don’t pose any more threat, do they?” Gabrielle asked, her brow furrowed in concern. “They’re probably going to head south as soon as they get out of the hills. They won’t show their faces in Denver again.”

Bobby turned on Gabrielle with a scowl. “Whose side are you on, Gaby? Are you actually worried about these assholes?”

She took his hands. “Of course not. I don’t give a damn about them. But I worry about you, Bobby. I don’t want you chasing them down into that mountain range. It could be dangerous. You remember what happened in Idaho Springs.”

He wrenched his hands out of hers in disgust. “I know damn well what happened in Idaho Springs. That’s exactly why I want to find these sons-of-bitches. They’re riding too high, and it’s about time someone takes them down.”

Grabbing his things, he started to walk toward the door, but he froze in his tracks and turned around to look at her. Her eyes were watery. He couldn’t leave her like this.

Taking her in his arms, he shushed her. “Don’t worry, Gaby, I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He pulled back to look at her, lifting her chin. She nodded.

“Okay,” she said. “I know I can’t change your mind. Just be careful, Bobby.”

“I’ll be back before dawn,” he said, turning to the door. “When you see a light green Chevy with New Mexico plates pull up, you’ll know it’s me. I’m taking that truck as a souvenir.”

Five men stood before Bobby outside in the street in front of the hotel. They were his best fighters, and they were armed to the teeth.

This was the way he would win. Not with more men, but with better men. And better strategy.

But for all these guys’ skills, he still didn’t trust them. No, the real work would be done by him.

The fleet of guys he’d sent to that cabin in Idaho Springs had failed. Somehow, a ragtag group from New Mexico with no training had defeated twelve men.

But Bobby imagined how badly those twelve men had botched the job. They hadn’t taken enough precaution. They’d probably gone stomping around and slamming doors. That was the problem with a lot of his soldiers. They were simply too dumb for their own good.

He didn’t trust anyone else to take out the bastards from New Mexico. His soldiers had failed him, time and time again.

If he wanted his revenge, he’d have to do it himself.

“Are there any questions?”

They shook their heads.

“Clark, you’re driving me in the Lexus. Ferguson, Jennings, Rodriguez, and Wheeler, you’ll take the Land Rover.”

Clark nodded his head slightly. He was Bobby’s right-hand man, the only one Bobby could fully trust. Or at least almost trust.

“All right, then. Let’s go,” Bobby said. “But remember, guys. There’s no gray area in this operation. Either you capture or kill them, or you pay with your life.”

Their faces were expressionless behind their dark glasses. They waited for Bobby to move, and when he began to cross the distance to the Lexus, they all sprang into action.

They were soon headed southwest out of Denver. Bobby knew the New Mexico convoy hadn’t yet had time to make it out of the mountains, based on what Travis had told him. Bobby had assembled this elite team quickly without a moment to spare. They had just enough time to cut the convoy of trucks off as they exited the mountains. And if the group had decided to hunker down somewhere in the woods, Bobby would find them.

Those bastards were wrong if they thought they could take out so many of the BSC members and get out of town with their lives.

Bobby thought of the worried look on Gabrielle’s face. Somehow, it annoyed him. It was almost as if she didn’t have faith in him, that he could pull off this mission. But he would prove her wrong. He’d return to Denver knowing he’d wiped out the unwelcome visitors.

It was what any self-respecting BSC member would have done. It was what his brother would have done. If he let these people drive into Denver, shoot his people, and escape without paying a price, then what was the point of any of this? If Bobby wanted to be respected in his authority, he would have to keep strict control. He couldn’t have any of the other guys doubting him or his leadership.

Gabrielle was wrong. He was more than capable of succeeding.

He would find them, and they would be sorry they had ever crossed into his territory.

25

“Welcome to your new home,” Garrison said.

He had led Bethany and Mia through the woods for over an hour. It had been a never-ending journey through the forest with so many twists and turns that Bethany felt completely lost. Now, they came to the top of another hill, and a cabin came into view.

It was a low, squat structure with few windows and cheap siding. The forest came up close to the walls, and it seemed dark inside. Bethany felt her throat constrict as she looked at it.

This couldn’t be happening.

How could she go inside that horrid little place with a lunatic? For all she knew, he was a serial killer. And now she and Mia had been forced at gunpoint to march up to his home.

Would it really end like this? It didn’t seem possible that she could be standing before this dismal, oppressive house with her hands bound and an insane man ordering her inside.

“Well, come in,” Garrison said, grabbing her elbow and leading her inside.

The cold interior stank of mildew, filth and chemicals. The light coming in the front window was paltry, and at first Bethany could see nothing. When her eyes adjusted, she gasped.

Everywhere she looked was pure chaos. Mysterious bottles and packages, strange equipment, animal skins, dirty plates, and pieces of meat and bones – she could only hope they came from the same animals as the skins being tanned – were strewn about in a disturbing display of sloth and madness. Bethany fought back nausea. Mia whimpered.

“What the hell is all this?” Bethany mumbled under her breath.

Garrison didn’t hear her. He removed a stack of notebooks from a metal folding chair and motioned for Bethany to sit in it. Clearing a deer skin that had partially been stripped of hair from another chair, he nodded to Mia.

“Sit.”

They collapsed in the chairs, their hands still bound. After the grueling walk up to the cabin, Bethany’s energy was depleted. She hadn’t eaten enough since the night before, and the exerting hike had made her muscles weak with fatigue. Her heart pounded from fear and the urgency of needing food and drink.

“We need water,” Bethany muttered, watching Garrison putter around the room. “And food.”

“Patience, cupcake,” he said.

He produced two metal cups from the disorder on his desk and poured some water into each. Returning to stand in front of them, he held them up.

“Mama bear and baby bear.”

Bethany’s stomach twisted in nausea and fear. He held the cup to her lips. She hesitated just a moment, worrying the drink may have been poisoned, but in the end her thirst won out. She gulped the water down. Then Garrison held the other cup to Mia’s lips and let her drink as well.

Bethany watched as the strange man walked to the kitchen area, just a few feet away from them in the open space. He seized a large, bloody chunk of raw meat and began to slice it in thin strips with a sharp knife directly on the counter. He hummed as he worked.

“I hope he doesn’t expect us to eat that,” Bethany whispered under her breath to Mia, who sat watching the man.

Garrison opened the door of an old cast iron wood stove and arranged some wood inside. He blew on the coals and watched the kindling catch, the flames quickly engulfing the dry wood. He closed the stove door and set a skillet and pot on the top surface of the stove. As he worked, Bethany looked around the cabin.

The large front room contained the living area she and Mia were in, a desk, and the kitchen. There appeared to be two or three other rooms in the back of the cabin.

Were there others back there? Were there any still alive?

Bethany shook her head, pushing the thoughts away. She had to focus on escape.

As the fire began to crack and the grease in the skillet sizzled, Bethany used the opportunity to talk to Mia.

“Was Charlie . . . dead?” Bethany asked in a whisper.

Mia didn’t take her eyes off the man. “I’m not sure. Did you see Trina anywhere?”

Bethany shook her head. “Do you think Nick and the rest will find us up here?”

“I hope so, but . . . I don’t know. This place is so far away from the road. What if they can’t find it?”

Bethany bit her lip and looked around. The thick wooden door was locked with a deadbolt on the inside. There were only two windows in the front room, and Bethany wouldn’t be able to fit through either of them.

“We’ll have to find some way out of here. I don’t know how, but I’ll find some way. Just be ready to run when the time comes.”

Mia nodded.

Garrison approached the wood stove and glanced up at Bethany as he stirred something in the pot.

“Just give it a chance, Judy,” he said. “In a couple of days, you’ll learn to love it here. The peace and quiet up in these woods, the tranquility – there’s no place better for introspection than right here.”

Bethany rolled her eyes.

“Just give me a chance,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at her.

Freak.

He walked over to them with two steaming bowls of soup.

“Potato leek soup. Just what the doctor ordered,” he said, grinning. “I made this from a dehydrated soup mix. But in the spring we’ll plant the garden and we can make this homemade next year.”

The sight of the soup made Bethany’s mouth water. It smelled so good, and she was so hungry, that she couldn’t resist.

He fed them himself, giving first one of them a few spoonfuls, then the other. They finished the soup quickly.

“You girls were hungry!” he exclaimed, grinning.

“We still are,” Bethany said. “Can we have some more?”

“I wouldn’t want you to fill up on soup,” Garrison replied. “Since the second course is much better.”

He returned to the stove and dished out the food from the cast iron skillet onto two plates. He sat in front of them again and lifted a forkful of meat to Bethany’s mouth.

“See how well I take care of you? You’re going to eat well up here.”

She twisted her mouth in disgust. “No thanks.”

Garrison’s face fell. “What?”

“I’d rather not eat that.”

His face darkened like a storm moving in. “Why not?”

“I don’t know what that meat is,” Bethany said. “It was just sitting on your counter. It’s kind of gross.”

“It’s venison. Deer,” Garrison said, his hand clenching the fork a little tighter. “Why wouldn’t you want to eat meat that your husband hunted for you?”

“Because you’re not my husband and I don’t trust you.”

Mia tensed. “Bethany,” she pleaded quietly.

“You ungrateful hussy!” Garrison said, standing up. “I hunted and processed this deer for you. And it’s the backstrap! I gave you the best cut.”

His face turned red. Making a primal sound, he threw the fork across the room, and it clanged against the wall. Bethany flinched.

“I’ll have some,” Mia said in a tiny voice.

Garrison turned to her and blinked a few times, coming out of his rage.

“Thatta girl, Suzy! You see, Judy? Our daughter knows how to be good. Why can’t you be good like her?”

Garrison turned away to get another fork from the kitchen. Bethany looked at Mia and mouthed the word Suzy with her eyebrows raised.

Mia took a forkful of the meat and nodded appreciatively.

“It’s great, Daddy.”

Garrison nodded approvingly and looked at Bethany.

“Fine. I’ll have some.”

Bethany accepted the meat, and to her surprise, it was good. He fed them the venison, bite by bite, until it was gone. She was glad for the food. Without her stomach growling, she could concentrate on getting out of there.

“Thanks, Garrison,” she said as he took the food away. It pained her to be nice to her kidnapper, but she knew Mia had the right idea. They had to win his trust.

She watched as he washed the dishes. He had set his gun down on the kitchen table. It was the first time it was out of his reach since he had taken them from the tent. He washed the chef’s knife, dried it and put it in a drawer.

“I can wash those dishes for you,” Bethany called, forcing her voice to sound steady.

He flashed her a smile. “No, darling, you just rest.”

Bethany and Mia exchanged a look, recognizing the fear in each other’s eyes. They were trapped.

“Well, can you untie us now? This rope hurts our wrists. And my arms are getting tired like this. It’s not good for the baby for me to be stressed, you know.”

Garrison dried his hands and returned to Bethany, kneeling at her side.

“Yes, the baby,” he said, gazing at her stomach as if he’d forgotten she was carrying a child.

He tentatively put a hand on her belly and held it there. Bethany fought back an urge to vomit, to scream at him to remove his hand.

He looked up at her and she forced a smile.

“It’s our son,” he marveled. “It is a boy, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “Yes, it’s a boy. How did you know?”

“I told you, Judy, this is our destiny. It’s written in the stars.”

Bethany rolled her eyes as he looked away.

More like a lucky guess.

Garrison stood up and paced back and forth a few times across the room as Bethany and Mia silently watched him. He looked outside the window.

“Soon it will be dark,” he said, staring outside. “The sun’s getting lower.” He turned back to face them.

“You two should be in bed. I’ve already got your room all set up.”

Bethany frowned and looked nervously at Mia.

“Don’t worry,” Garrison said soothingly as he ran his hand over Bethany’s hair. “You’ll have the room to yourselves. This is how it will be in the beginning. You need time to get used to me.”

He took a brown ringlet and pulled it straight, then watched it bounce back. Bethany’s skin was crawling. Her eyes darted to the shotgun out of Garrison’s reach on the kitchen table.

“That’s – that’s very considerate of you, Garrison,” she said.

“You see? I’m not a bad guy,” he said, bringing his lips down to her ear. “You’ll learn to like being here. Once you accept it.”

Bethany nodded. She took a deep breath and lowered her voice so that Mia couldn’t hear.

“This place is already starting to grow on me,” she murmured. “Why don’t you untie my hands, hmm? I don’t need my own room tonight. I can stay with you, if you want.”

He looked at her. She gave him a little smile. “But I just need my arms to be free. That’s all I ask. Then we can go to bed.”

Garrison smiled at her and ran his finger down her arm. Bethany’s heart pounded. It was almost more than she could bear. His touch sickened her.

She felt his hands at her wrists, untying the rope. Her pulse quickened, her wrists burned as the rope once again rubbed at her raw skin. Little by little, the rope became looser. Her breath hitched in her lungs as she felt her hands become free, finally. She brought them into her lap, rubbing her skin.

“There,” Garrison said. “Now let’s go –”

Bethany snapped her elbow up and smashed it against his eye. He recoiled instantly, screaming from the pain and bringing his hand up to his face.

Bethany flew up from her seat and lunged at the table. Grabbing the rifle, she swung it around.

But he was already there, wrenching it out of her hands. They struggled. She twisted to the side, fighting to keep the gun in her hands. Everything moved so fast, and she only saw flashes of his shirt, his face, and the room as she fought with everything she had to keep that gun in her hands and raise the barrel at him.

He was too strong. He overpowered her, grabbing her from behind and keeping her arms down. She screamed in despair as he pried the shotgun out of her hands and she was left to grasp at the air.

“Bad girl!”

His face was red as he shouted at her. He turned the rifle toward her.

“You’re a very, very, very bad girl!”

She cried in desperation and utter defeat. She had been so close.

She felt the rope slipping over her wrists again as he pulled her arms back and tied them once more. He grabbed her arm and pulled her. She kept her feet rooted where she was, and he yanked harder until she staggered from her spot.

“You don’t get the special room! You have to go in here tonight.”

He pulled her through the living room. He opened a door and revealed a small, cramped closet. She recoiled in horror.

“No!”

He pulled her toward the closet. She fought him, clawed and kicked at him, but it was no use.

“This is where bad girls go!”

He pushed her inside the closet and slammed the door shut. She heard him turn the lock on the doorknob.

“Suzy has to be punished too!”

Bethany listened as Garrison stormed over to grab Mia, leading her to the closet. The door flew open, and he pushed Mia inside the tight space with Bethany. The door was locked again.

They listened as his footsteps retreated. He was back in the kitchen, mumbling to himself.

Bethany and Mia slid down to the floor of the closet. Tears streamed down Bethany’s face. She could feel Mia shaking.

Bethany had tried and failed. How could it have come to this? How could she and Mia be trapped with a psychopath in the middle of the wilderness?

Bethany began to hear something outside the closet. She held her breath and listened.

Garrison was making a deep, groaning noise. It started out quiet, then grew louder.

She cringed as his voice became more intense. But it wasn’t just the volume of his scream that disturbed her. It was the rage she could hear that sent a chill down her spine.

He was roaring.

26

“Mia! Bethany! Trina!”

Jessa cupped her hands around her mouth and called into the woods. There was no response except for a breeze blowing the branches of the pines towering above her.

“He’s still alive,” Liz said, her fingers on Charlie’s throat. “His pulse is good.”

“But he’s out cold,” Matt said, looking down at him. “And Trina, Mia, and Bethany are missing.”

Matt charged into the woods, calling their names as he searched the area.

Nick squatted by the tent. “There was a struggle,” he said to Liz. “The tent floor is torn, and the sleeping bag and pad are all twisted up.”

Leaving Charlie’s side, Liz moved to the tent and looked over Nick’s shoulder.

“What?” she said, stunned. “Someone took them?”

“It looks that way,” Nick said.

He stood up and looked over the area. The ground in front of the tent had been disturbed, with dirt kicked up. It appeared there had been a struggle in front of the tent, too.

“I found Trina!” Jessa called from a few yards away in the forest to the left.

Nick and Liz exchanged a look, then followed Jessa’s voice to find her kneeling over Trina. Matt came running up behind them.

Trina lay on the ground, unconscious but alive. “She’s in pretty much the same shape as Charlie,” Jessa said. “Someone knocked them out.”

“So Mia and Bethany have to be around here somewhere,” Matt said.

Nick looked back at the truck they had left behind. All the gear they had taken out of the Forest Service truck still waited on the ground beside the Dodge, undisturbed.

Nick shook his head. His heart sped up as his hands went clammy.

“I don’t think we’re going to find them here,” he said.

“Why not?” Matt asked nervously.

“Because this wasn’t a robbery,” Nick said as he crossed the distance back to the trucks with the others following him. He stopped in front of the pile of bags and gear they had unloaded from the truck and looked it over.

“All of our things are here. Nothing’s gone except Mia and Bethany,” Nick said, looking at the woods. “This was a kidnapping.”

Matt swallowed and shook his head. His panicked eyes darted around. “They have to be around here somewhere. Bethany and Mia have to be all right, they have to be.”

He started off toward the woods again, but Nick grabbed his arm.

“Hold up,” Nick said. “We’ll look for them, but we have to be careful. We can’t go stomping around in the woods and destroying any tracks or signs that might lead us to where they are.”

Matt frowned. “But why would anyone want to take Mia and Bethany?”

Because this is a sick world, Nick thought.

“I don’t know, Matt,” Nick said quietly.

“Well, do you think it’s the BSC?” the teenager asked.

“No, it can’t be,” Jessa said. “They want us all dead. They would have killed Trina and Charlie, then hidden in the woods and shot us as we drove up. This is somebody else.”

“Unless it’s a trap,” Liz added. “Maybe the gang members want us to think that.”

“Maybe,” Nick said. “But I think Jessa’s probably right. It’s not the BSC’s style. I think somebody has a cabin up in those woods and they saw us arrive. When the four of us left, they used the opportunity to come down here and take what they wanted.”

A chilling silence fell over the group.

A rustling nearby broke the quiet. Nick turned around to see Charlie move his arm. He mumbled something as they walked to his side. He opened and closed his hand a few times. Liz took his hand in her own.

“You're all right, Charlie,” Jessa said. “We're here.”

She and Nick helped Charlie sit up and propped him against the tree. He opened his eyes, blinked a few times, and looked around for a moment.

“Something bad happened, didn't it?” he asked, eyes darting around.

“You were unconscious for a while,” Liz said. “Trina is still out. And Mia and Bethany are missing.”

Charlie squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them again, he seemed disappointed to see everyone standing over him. It was hard to believe it wasn’t a dream.

“I don't know how I didn't hear him. Somehow, he snuck up right behind me. And then he was on top of me. It all happened so fast. I never knew he was there until he had something pressed up against my face,” Charlie said slowly, struggling to find the words.

He shook his head sadly. “I guess I let everybody down. I don't know how it happened. I didn't hear so much as a twig break.”

“Do you know how many there were?” Nick asked.

Charlie closed his eyes again for a moment, trying to recall any fragments of the fuzzy memory. “No, I don't. I was just sitting here with my gun in my lap. Trina was sitting against that tree over there.”

He pointed his chin in the direction of a pine a few feet away.

“She got up and walked into the woods to take a bathroom break. I was alert, but I hadn't looked back into the forest for a while. I didn't want Trina to think I was spying on her, you know? So I was just watching the road. Trina had been gone just a minute or two when it happened,” Charlie said.

He looked down for a moment as he caught his breath, then back up at his friends.

“All of a sudden I felt somebody pressing a cloth hard against my face and taking the gun out of my hands. I fought to keep it, but there was some kind of chemical on that rag. It went straight to my head. Before I knew it, my muscles went all floppy and I guess I passed out.”

Charlie tried to turn his head to look for Trina, but he still didn't have the strength.

“Is Trina okay?”

“She was out cold the last time we checked,” Jessa said. “I'll go check on her again. I don't want her to wake up all alone.”

Jessa disappeared into the woods.

“Do you feel okay?” Liz asked.

“I'll survive,” Charlie said. “I'm not back to normal yet, though. My arms feel like jelly. And I've got a headache like you wouldn't believe.”

“Poor Charlie,” Liz said sympathetically.

“Forget about me,” Charlie said. “What are we going to do about Mia and Bethany?”

“I'm going to go look for them,” Nick said. “Whoever took them must have a cabin up in these woods.”

“But how will you find them?” Liz asked. “These woods could go on for miles.”

Nick rubbed the back of his neck. “That's why I've got to go now.”

Jessa emerged from the woods and rejoined the group. “Nick, you should know by now that I'm not going to let you go off up there alone. You need some backup.”

Nick sighed and looked at her. He didn't want to put her in danger, but he knew their chances at recovering Mia and Bethany were better if she went.

“Is Trina still out?” he asked.

Jessa nodded. “Yeah.”

“It'll probably take her longer to wake up since she's smaller than Charlie,” Nick said. “Liz, you stay here with Charlie. And Matt –”

“I know, I know. Go keep watch over Trina,” Matt grumbled. “But I'd be more useful to help you look for Mia and Bethany.”

“You'll be the biggest help to us if you make sure everyone stays safe down here,” Nick said.

He understood that Matt wanted to play a bigger role in missions like this, but his nephew was still young.

Nick and Jessa went into the trucks for more ammo. Nick grabbed the two remaining headlamps, giving one to Jessa.

“Stay safe down here,” Nick said. “We'll try to return as quickly as we can.”

“You stay safe,” Liz said nervously to Nick and Jessa.

Nick gave her a nod, then started off into the woods. His eyes moved constantly, scanning the area for any clue that would lead them to their target.

27

When she could finally stop crying, Mia dried her tears. Now it was time to focus.

The closet was unbearably cramped. Bethany's back was against one wall, and Mia's back was against the other. There wasn't enough room to straighten their legs, and they both sat with their knees bent.

The lack of air was suffocating. Above their heads were shelves filled with bottles of chemicals, Mia presumed. The smell was overpowering.

The crack at the bottom of the door allowed a small beam of light to enter. Otherwise, it was pitch black. Mia could see Garrison's shadow move through the light that entered the bottom of the door. He was pacing back and forth.

“I'm so sorry, Mia,” Bethany whimpered. “I tried my best to get us out of here.”

“I know,” Mia whispered. “Don't lose hope. There's got to be a way to get out.”

“I don't know. I'm afraid we're going to die in this cabin,” Bethany said.

Mia started to say something, but she stopped. Outside the closet, Garrison was muttering something. Mia strained to listen.

“It's all wrong, it's all wrong. They can't be the right ones.”

His voice trailed off for a moment, then resumed as he paced through the room.

“It can't be them. There must be some kind of mistake. They were supposed to love me. That’s what families do.”

Garrison lunged at something, and the sound of glass breaking made Mia flinch. He was in a rage.

He was silent for a few minutes as he continued to pace.

“He's completely insane,” Bethany whispered. “And dangerous.”

“That's it, that's what I'll have to do,” Garrison's mutterings began again. “I'll just have to start over. I'll have to find a new wife.”

Mia felt her chest tighten. This was not a good turn of events.

Garrison kept muttering, but it became harder to make out what he was saying.

“Yeah… I'll have to stop them. End them. I don't want to, but that's what I'll have to do. Bad girls have to be punished. They must be killed. Yes, yes, I’ll keep the baby, of course, of course. The baby's good. But find a new Suzy and Judy.”

Mia gasped for air. Her throat seemed to close in on itself. She was hyperventilating as she listened to Garrison’s rant. Bethany began to cry frantically.

Garrison paced back and forth a few more times, but his mutterings fell silent. He seemed to have made up his mind.

Mia watched as his shadow grew larger. He was approaching the door of the closet. Her mind raced.

Think of something!

He was much too strong for her. How could she escape this? She thought of Nick and the others. They were probably still looking for a place to spend the night, completing unaware of the kidnapping. And even if they had returned to where Charlie and Trina lay unconscious, they would never make it in time. Not when Garrison's hand was reaching for the doorknob. Not when she looked up to see him throw the door open and stand before them with a crazed grin on his face.

“Suzy, dear, time to come with me.”

He smiled down at her. She was paralyzed.

“She's just a child, you bastard!” Bethany said between sobs. “Kill me and leave her alone.”

“No, Judy,” Garrison explained. “First Suzy. I can't have her helping you escape. You're going to stay in this closet until you have our son. Then you'll have to go, too.”

“No!” Bethany screamed, her face red. “You can't do this! Our friends will find you and they'll kill you!”

Garrison laughed. “No one can find us up here. Didn’t you notice? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

He grabbed Mia's arm and pulled her to her feet. Bethany wailed.

“No, please,” Mia begged. “I'll be good, I promise.”

“It's too late,” Garrison said. “I can't trust you anymore because of what your mother did.”

He jerked her arm up and pulled her out of the closet. As she was led through a hallway, she struggled against him. When he pulled her past a large room, she threw herself in the doorway, falling to her knees.

The delay only bought her a moment, because he spared no time in picking her back up. But that moment was all she needed to look up and recognize a diagram on his wall.

“The father of her baby died from the Hosta virus,” Mia sputtered. “What if there are complications?”

Garrison looked down at her and frowned. He was confused.

“What?”

Mia’s eyes moved wildly over the microscope and beakers on a long table, then she glanced at the wall full of books. She had seen some lab equipment in the front room, but this office confirmed her suspicions.

“You’re a scientist, right?” she asked.

Garrison blinked a few times, then nodded slowly. “Yes, an – an immunologist.”

He pronounced the word with some difficulty, as if it were a link to some fuzzy past he had forgotten and couldn’t quite access.

Mia’s eyes widened in genuine amazement. “Wow! An immunologist? Were you working on a cure for Hosta?”

He stared at her. “Hosta,” he repeated in a daze. “Yes, Hosta. The virus. But how could you know that?”

“Isn’t that a model of the Hosta virus structure?” she asked, nodding at the large paper tacked to his wall.

His eyes narrowed, getting suspicious. “How do you know these things?”

“I guess I’m sort of a science nerd. I saw the model on the internet, and I remember it. I’ve been trying to get my hands on any kind of information about the virus.”

Garrison suddenly let go of her arm. He looked at the floor and started to breathe heavily. He brought the butt of his hand up to his forehead and began to pound his head repeatedly.

He’s having some kind of psychotic break. He can’t reconcile his two realities.

“Will you tell me about Hosta, please?”

He stared at her. His eyes were round and dilated. Then slowly, he let his hand drop to his side as he spoke. His voice changed to a steady, clinical tone.

“It all happened so fast. We were trying to come up with an antiviral therapy, but nothing worked. The mice kept dying. Then my colleagues started dying.”

“Were any of the mice pregnant?”

“Yeah, we had pregnancy groups. Pregnant mice exposed to the virus mostly died. But there was a four percent survival rate among them, too. Just like the rest of the mice groups.”

Mia took a deep breath. “What if the mother was immune but the father died from the virus? Will the baby be… Would the baby be born healthy?”

Garrison scratched his head. He stared at the diagram of the virus molecule on his wall. “Most likely. There was a small occurrence of complications, though. Even with an immune mother.”

Mia’s pulse quickened.

“What kind of complications?”

“During delivery, there was a small risk of the virus reactivating. There were a few baby mice that were stillborn.”

Mia bit her lip. “I see. And if the baby is healthy? Would it be an asymptomatic carrier of the virus?”

Garrison didn’t answer. He abruptly turned his back to her. He clenched his hands into fists. He began to groan and breathe heavily. Suddenly, he turned to face her.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he said, his voice rising again. “You’re trying to distract me.”

“No, Daddy. I’m not. I’m just interested in what you know, in your work. I – I’ve never met a real scientist before.”

“That was a different life. Those days are over. Come on,” he said as he grabbed her arm again.

“Wait! You need me! I've been tracking her pregnancy. I can tell you everything about her condition so you can be prepared for any complications.”

Garrison paused to catch his breath. He shook his hands out and cracked his neck, making a loud popping sound.

“Fine. You can stay until the baby is born.”

Mia breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thanks, Daddy. I’ll be a big help. You won’t regret it.”

Garrison looked at his work table. “I’ll just make the baby come now.”

Mia swallowed. Her pulse quickened again.

“But she’s not in labor now. How can you do that?”

Garrison grabbed her arm again and led her out of the room.

“I’m going to induce labor. I can synthesize Pitocin. It’s not hard.”

Mia felt her breathing go frantic.

“I’m not sure that’s such a great idea, Daddy. It might not be good for the baby. He’s not ready yet.”

“You think I don’t know my own son?” Garrison looked down at her with fury in his eyes as he pulled her back to the closet and opened the door. “He’s ready.”

Garrison grabbed Bethany’s arm and pulled her to her feet. He yanked her out of the closet, then pushed Mia inside and locked the door again.

“What are you doing?” Bethany asked.

“It’s time for our son to be born,” Garrison answered.

He led her into his office. Bethany fought against him with all her strength. She cried and screamed, kicking at him.

“No one can hear you,” he said.

“Why?” she wailed. “Why do you have to do this?”

“Because this is all wrong. You have to go away. I have to start over with our son.”

Garrison wrestled with Bethany, pushing her down into a chair and holding her with one arm.

“This will be much easier if you just go to sleep,” he said as he grabbed a bottle of some medication and a needle.

“Goodbye, Judy.”

28

Nick and Jessa walked up the hill away from the road.

They found a small path that had been mostly covered over with tree branches. It was camouflaged, but they could follow it.

Jessa walked ahead as Nick moved a bit more slowly, studying the terrain and scanning the forest. Halfway up the hill, she whistled. “Found the truck.”

Nick caught up to her and looked at where she was pointing. It took a moment for his eye to make out the vehicle hidden underneath camouflage tarps and limbs.

The truck was empty and didn’t provide any clues about the kidnapper, but at least they knew they were headed in the right general direction.

Nick and Jessa got to the top of the hill and looked around. The forest spread out as far as the eye could see in every direction.

“There doesn’t seem to be any kind of path from here on out,” Jessa said. “Which means they could have gone anywhere from here.”

“Let’s keep some distance between us so we can cover more ground.”

“Okay, just don’t venture off too far.”

“We’re looking for any kind of trail,” Nick said. “A footprint, disturbed grass or dirt, a broken twig, trash or debris.”

“Right,” Jessa said. “I just don’t know how much time we have. It’s hard to balance looking for clues with covering ground and making progress.”

“Yeah. And so far, I haven’t seen anything. I just hope we’re headed in the right direction.”

Nick came to a patch of mud a few moments later. He froze and waved Jessa over.

“This is a new print. They must’ve come through here just an hour or two ago,” Nick said.

“And that’s definitely Mia’s shoe size.”

They continued on, veering to the left as Mia’s footprint led them. They stopped talking, communicating with hand signals to keep quiet. But after the footprint, there were no more clues to lead them. They had no idea if they were on the right track or not.

The more time passed, the more impossible it seemed to find them. The woods were endless, and they were looking for a needle in a haystack. The kidnapper could have led them in a zigzag or a loop to try to throw off anyone tracking them. For all they knew, they could be going in completely the wrong direction.

Nothing to do but keep going. Stay alert. The forest is a canvas. Look for anything out of place.

Jessa got Nick’s attention with a wave from her spot several feet to the right.

He walked over to her location and looked at where she was pointing. It was a broken twig. The snapped half bent to the right.

Jessa kneeled in front of it. “It’s a new break,” she whispered. “The wood is wet. Not enough time to dry it. I think we should veer to the right in the direction this is pointing.”

“It could have been an animal,” Nick muttered.

He looked around. It was a weak clue. They could follow it and lead themselves in a completely wrong direction. But they had to take the risk.

“Let’s follow it. It’s the only sign we’ve had in a while,” he whispered.

Jessa nodded and continued to the right.

Nick ignored his growling stomach. Traveling over the rugged terrain made him even hungrier, but he pushed on. Mia and Bethany were in trouble, and he couldn’t waste a moment in finding them.

A few yards ahead, Nick noticed the pine needles had been tousled about on the ground in two separate places.

Like two people walking side by side.

He continued forward. They had to be on the right track.

They scaled another hill and looked around. The woods stretched out before them and there was nothing out of the ordinary. His chest began to tighten. It was taking too long to find them. Something terrible could have already happened.

He stepped over a rotten log on the ground. Something shimmering in the dappled sunlight that filtered through to the forest floor caught his eye. He bent down to pick it up.

It was a long, curly strand of brown hair. Undoubtedly Bethany’s hair.

Seeing her hair gave him the motivation to push forward more quickly. He charged ahead, his eyes taking in as much information as possible. Using the full spectrum of his range of vision, he scoured the forest floor while staying aware of what lay ahead.

His vision became fine-tuned. The forest began to light up with evidence. Some kicked up dirt here, a break in the carpet of pine needles there, another few twigs snapped off to the side. Nick picked up his speed. Jessa walked by his side now, both of them focused on the trail they had found.

Finally, he noticed that Jessa froze. She turned to him with big eyes and pointed at her ear.

Listen.

Nick stopped. The sound came again, and he could barely make it out. It was a muffled scream in the distance.

Jessa and Nick charged forward silently in the direction of the screams, clutching their rifles. A cabin came into view, and they paused to survey the scene.

Mia and Bethany were in that cabin.

Nick motioned for Jessa to go around to the rear of the house. She kept a wide berth around the cabin as she crept through the woods.

Nick moved forward, drawing closer to the house. Bethany’s screams were bloodcurdling.

God only knows what’s happening inside there.

Nick paused behind a large tree, just a few yards from the front door. The view through the window gave little information about the interior. It looked dark inside, and he could only make out some vague furnishings in the front room.

He wanted to kick in the front door immediately, to go in and save his friends. But he had to be smart about this. He had no idea how many people were inside or how many guns they had.

Nick skirted around the side of the house in the opposite direction Jessa had gone. There were no windows on the side wall.

He met Jessa as she waited behind a large aspen.

“Any doors on the far side of the house?” he whispered.

She shook her head. “Just one window back here and one on the other side.”

Nick strained to look in the window, but this one was also too dark to see much.

“I’m going through the front door,” Nick said. “Keep your eye on this window. Hold your fire until you’re absolutely sure of your target.”

Jessa nodded. Nick turned and disappeared around the corner of the house.

He tried to steady his breathing as he approached the front door.

He prepared himself for the worst. What if there were five guys behind the door? How could he take them all on?

Or what if he was too late?

Whatever happened, he had to succeed. He had to get Bethany and Mia to safety.

This was the time to move. He had to act before the doubt took hold.

He broke out of the cover of the forest, running straight ahead toward the front door. Stopping a few feet from the door, he drove his back foot into the ground. With his other foot, he kicked the door next to the deadbolt.

The lock broke. The door swung open.

He drew his Glock from its holster and charged in. He stood in the entrance of the room for a split second, looking around.

The front room was empty. But Nick could hear Bethany struggling in a back room.

“It’s over!” Nick shouted. “Let them go!”

“Nick!”

It was Mia’s voice. She was in the closet. Nick took a few steps toward the door, but then he stopped.

A crazed looking man emerged from the back room clenching Bethany in his arms with a pistol against her head. She looked terrified, her eyes round and panicked as she stared at Nick and was led out of the room.

“Be careful, he’s crazy,” she said.

Nick looked the man over. The man holding Bethany hostage was clearly unstable. His eyes moved wildly about the room. His hands shook.

“Is there anyone else besides him?” Nick asked.

Bethany shook her head. The man held her more tightly.

“Just let go of her,” Nick said slowly. “Let them both go, and no one gets hurt.”

“I’ll never let you take my son,” the man said, his speech agitated and rapid. “She’s carrying my baby, and he belongs to me. You can have her back after the baby is born.”

My son?

Nick tried to keep his voice steady and calm. “Her baby’s not ready to be born yet. We have to keep Bethany nice and safe so her baby can be born healthy.”

The man squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head violently.

“Stop calling her that! Her name is Judy! And you don’t know anything about her or my son! She was supposed to be my wife. But she was bad. And now I have to start all over again.”

Nick nodded his head in understanding.

A man in a breakdown like this is unpredictable. He could be capable of anything.

“I understand,” Nick said slowly, his gun still raised at the man. “But why don’t you let Mia go? She’s not involved in this. You don’t need her.”

“Her name is Suzy. And I do need her! I need her to help take care of the baby.”

His hand began to shake more violently.

“Just put your gun down,” Nick said. “Just set it down and all this will be over.”

“So you can take them from me? You’re not getting your hands on either one of them,” the man hissed. “I’d rather shoot them both than let you have them.”

He looked Nick up and down, scowling.

“You don’t understand anything,” the man said.

“Well, I guess we have a problem here,” Nick said evenly. “Because if you shoot either of them, I’ll have to shoot you.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “I’m not letting them out of here alive. Either they stay with me, or I kill them.”

“But there’s something you don’t know about,” Nick said.

The man squinted. “What’s that?”

“I’ve got the house surrounded. And my friend has a short temper. If you shoot anyone, she’ll come in here and put a bullet in your head. You’ll never get out of here alive.”

The man grunted. “I’m done talking to you.”

He flipped the safety off and moved his finger to the trigger.

“No!” Bethany screamed.

She threw her body against the man’s outstretched arms. Her shoulder knocked up against him, pushing his arm in a wide arc to the side. He fired and hit the window behind Nick.

Bethany continued in her forward trajectory, falling to the floor.

Just before the man could fire again, Nick aimed at the man’s shoulder and pulled the trigger. The man groaned and fell to the floor, toppling backward and groaning in agony.

Nick picked up the pistol the man had dropped and made sure he had no other weapons on him. Then he turned to Bethany. She had fallen on her side, with her hands still tied behind her.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he untied her.

She grimaced in pain, but nodded.

“Go get Mia,” she said.

Nick helped Bethany to her feet, then rushed to the closet. He opened the door to find Mia crouched down and crying.

“It’s all over,” he said to her soothingly. He untied her hands and looked her over.

“Did he hurt you?”

Mia shook her head. “No, but he was going to. He – he was going to kill both of us.”

Her voice trailed off and she broke into tears again. Nick lifted her up and carried her across the room. She trembled in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Mia,” Nick said. “You’re safe now. I’m never going to let anyone hurt you.”

Jessa appeared in the doorway, breathless. She took in the scene quickly.

“Is anyone hurt?” she asked.

“Bethany fell,” Nick said. “But I think she’s okay.”

They turned to Bethany, who had picked up the man’s pistol while Nick was at the closet. She now lifted her arms, revealing the gun she clenched in her hands.

“Bethany, wait –” Jessa began.

The man, who lay bleeding but still conscious on the floor, looked up at Bethany. His eyes suddenly went large as he saw Bethany looming over him. He stared at the gun and shook his head. He was filled with terror.

“No, Judy, don’t! I didn’t mean to hurt –”

Bethany pulled the trigger.

He stopped talking. In a moment, his body became still and lifeless.

Bethany lowered the gun and let her arm hang at her side. She stood for several moments, watching him bleed.

Jessa approached her slowly, reaching for the gun and taking it from her. Bethany let go of it without resistance.

“It’s over now,” Jessa said. She switched the safety on and slipped it in her waistband. “Why don’t you come sit down and rest, Bethany?”

She tried to lead Bethany over to a chair, but Bethany refused.

“No! I don’t want to be in this house anymore.”

They watched as she walked out the front door slowly and started to the woods.

“Go stay with her out there,” Nick said. “Make sure she doesn’t run off. I’ll just be a few minutes. We can’t leave here without taking some food.”

He set Mia down on her feet.

“Go wait outside with Jessa,” he told her quietly.

She looked up at Nick. “There are some things I need to get. He –”

She broke off and looked at the man lying on the floor. Then her eyes darted away.

“He was a scientist and he studied the Hosta virus. His notes are priceless. I – I think we should take them with us.”

“Okay, Mia. But first I need to make sure the rest of the house is safe.”

She waited while he went from room to room to make certain that the threat was over. Even a quick look through the rooms was enough to paint the picture of a severely disturbed man. Nick was relieved that he and Jessa had found the cabin in time.

What if we had gotten here just a few minutes later?

He shuddered.

In the bedroom, he saw an empty pill bottle on a table.

Haloperidol.

Nick had a vague recollection of hearing the name once or twice. It was an anti-psychotic medication.

Suddenly, he felt a twinge of something like sadness. The man had been mentally ill, and he had run out of his medication. It didn’t make his actions excusable in any way. He had preyed on a woman and child. Bethany and Mia had to be rescued, and the man hadn’t given Nick any other choice but to shoot him. Still, it pained Nick that things had ended this way.

The man was essentially another victim of the Hosta virus.

Nick walked out to the main room where Mia waited with her back to the dead man.

“It’s safe.”

Mia nodded and passed by the body, careful not to look at it. She entered the office and quickly began to search through the stacks of notebooks and texts.

There was so much to choose from, but she selected what she thought would be the most useful things and loaded them in a large backpack.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Nick filled a canvas bag full of dried foods. He shook off the nagging uneasiness he felt about taking things from the guy.

We need this to survive.

They didn’t have time to spare. They had to hike back down to the vehicles and drive to the cabin they had selected as a hideout for the evening. The state road that stretched out for dozens of miles before their destination was practically a warzone. And the longer they took, the more chance there was of running into the gang members who were out for vengeance.

“Are you ready, Mia?” he called.

A moment later, she appeared in the kitchen, dragging a stuffed backpack behind her.

He smiled.

“I’ll carry that.”

He hefted the two bags over his shoulders and picked up Trina’s and Charlie’s rifles off the kitchen table. He glanced at the corpse once more. There was nothing to do but to leave him lying in his cabin just as he was.

“Let’s go,” he said.

They walked outside and approached the women who were waiting, seated on the ground, at the tree line. As Nick drew closer, he noticed the tension and stress etched on Bethany’s face.

“What is it?” he asked, his stomach tightening.

Jessa looked up at him, then back at Bethany.

“Her water just broke.”

29

Anne drove in the direction of White Pine Falls. Her dark, shiny hair blew in its ponytail, and the tiny turquoise earrings she always wore dangled as they traveled on the bumpy road.

She had only one shot at getting Daniel antibiotics. If she failed, she didn’t know what she would do.

Deciding not to worry about it, she tried to focus on the road for the next several dozen miles. At some point, maybe an hour or more after giving her son roadside first aid, she suddenly realized that she was feeling much better.

Her sickness had passed. It had left her body just as soon as it had come.

It made no sense. Why had she abruptly gotten flu symptoms in the first place? Why had those symptoms disappeared so quickly?

She looked at her son, anxious to share with him the good news.

“How are you feeling, Daniel?”

He had been quiet for a while now. He turned toward her.

“I’m all right,” he said.

But she could see through his words. He was in pain. The ibuprofen wasn’t enough.

“I’m going to try to find some medicine for you,” she said. She reached over to feel his forehead.

“Where are we going?”

“If we’re lucky, the clinic in Chama will have some supplies.”

Daniel groaned. “There could be people there. It could be dangerous.”

She looked at him. “We have to try.”

“Fine.”

Daniel looked at her again, more curiously this time.

“You look different, Mom. Better.”

Her eyes twinkled. “I feel better.”

His face lit up in a smile. “Really? Since when?”

“Just a few minutes ago,” she said. “It’s the strangest thing. That cold, achy feeling I had just vanished.”

“You’re better? So fast?”

Anne nodded. “It’s weird, isn’t it? I feel back to my old self.”

“How can that be possible?” he asked. “Wait, you’re going to say the ghosts in that town back there made you sick, aren’t you?”

Anne shook her head. Not even she could explain this with her superstitious beliefs.

“No, I don’t think it was the spirits, Daniel. Anyway, I fell sick before we got to that town. I don’t think the two things are related at all.”

“Then what could it be?”

“I don’t know. If it was the regular old flu, it was a strange case of it.”

She looked out the window at a fallow field, then back at the road.

“I imagine there’s a lot we don’t understand about viruses,” she said.

“What does that mean? You think it was just the flu, then?”

“I don’t know, Daniel,” she said, shaking her head. “I just know it’ll be hard not to worry any time someone gets sick now.”

“I’m just happy you’re better, Mom,” he said. “Very happy.”

He leaned back in his seat. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His mom was going to be okay.

He looked down at the bloody shirt in his lap. He thought of the look in that man’s eyes who shot him. Daniel had never seen a look like that in his life.

“Mom, do you think life will ever feel normal again?”

Anne looked over at her son. She wished she could protect her children from the evil in the world.

“It will never be like it was before,” she said slowly, returning her eyes to the road. “I think the people the virus spared will be forever changed. Some not in a good way. But that’s how it’s always been. Some of us go toward darkness, and some toward light.”

“So you think it’s a choice?”

“Sort of. All of us have some good and some bad in us. We can choose to nurture the good side, or we can nurture the bad side. Some things are out of our control, though.”

“Like bad spirits?” Daniel asked, fighting the fatigue to lift the corners of his mouth in a smile to tease his mother.

Anne nodded, ignoring her son’s playful taunt.

“Or the virus outbreak. A big event like Hosta can bring out whatever was hidden underneath the surface. If a person suppresses the hatred and darkness inside them for a long time, a disaster like this can make it harder to hide. And it can make it darker and uglier. After a certain point, it takes over all the goodness a person has, and it’s out of control.”

Daniel looked out the window. Is that what had happened with the three people back in that small town? When they lost everyone and everything, had they lost all sense of morality and human decency as well?

Then he remembered the people who had attacked Liz and ambushed Nick and the others. Those men had wanted to kill them so they could steal Nick’s property.

“When you add in competition over resources, it makes it worse, I guess,” Daniel said.

Anne nodded. “Yes. When things we need are scarce, it’s easy to turn against each other.”

“And become like animals,” Daniel muttered.

“We just have to keep looking ahead, keep doing the best we can. Your great-grandfather says we have to return to the old traditions. He says they will guide us.”

“But the old ways never prepared us for this killer epidemic,” Daniel said.

“That’s true.”

She ran her hand over his gleaming black hair affectionately, then brought it back to the steering wheel.

“I wish the world was better for you, Daniel.”

He looked at her and smiled.

“Just stay healthy, Mom. That’s enough for me.”

30

“When did it happen?”

“When we were walking out here,” Bethany said. “The floodgates just broke. I don’t know if it was because of the fall, or the stress, or what.”

“She says she doesn’t have any contractions yet,” Jessa said.

Nick stood staring at the two women for a moment, his mind running through possibilities.

“I’m really worried,” Bethany said. “It’s too early for the baby to come. They say after the water breaks, you’re at risk of infection. The baby needs to come within twenty-four hours.”

Nick paced back and forth a bit, trying to remember what he could from Kaitlyn’s pregnancy.

“Is he premature?”

“No,” Bethany said, rubbing her hands over her belly. “It’s been thirty-seven weeks. That’s just barely full-term. But… I don’t know. It feels too early. I don’t feel ready for this at all. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

Nick looked back at the cabin.

“We can clean up in there. I’ll remove his – his body.”

“No,” Bethany said firmly. “I want to get out of here. I never want to go back in that place.”

She suddenly looked at Mia and reached out her arms toward the girl. Mia let herself be embraced.

“It was so awful in there,” Bethany said, her voice trembling. “We were terrified.”

Bethany looked up at Jessa and Nick.

“You should’ve seen Mia in there. She was so smart. She was able to calm him down. I probably would be dead without Mia’s help.”

Bethany’s shoulders shook as she wept with Mia in her arms.

Jessa looked up nervously at Nick.

“It’s starting to get dark,” Nick said. “I’m afraid we don’t have much time.”

“I told her about the cabin we found,” Jessa said.

“I want to walk down to the trucks. I don’t want my baby to be born in that house. We have to go to the other cabin,” Bethany said. Her mind was made up.

“Are you sure you can walk all that way?” Mia said. “It was really far.”

Bethany nodded. “I want to try. Besides, I need to have all my supplies with me. The ones back at the truck.”

Jessa looked up at Nick and eyed the bags he was carrying. “Did you find food?”

“Yeah. And his truck keys.”

Jessa stood up and reached out her hands to help Bethany up.

“Are you ready now?” Jessa asked.

Bethany took her hands and struggled to get up. She took a deep breath, dusted the dirt off her jeans, and nodded.

“Let’s go.”

Bethany set the pace. She walked as quickly as she could, but she couldn’t move very fast through the wooded hills.

Nick pointed out the way through the forest. His sharp focus he had used to arrive at the cabin meant that he was hyper-aware of his surroundings.

Despite the extra weight she was carrying and her discomfort, Bethany continued without breaks for several minutes. They were about halfway through the journey when she stopped to catch her breath. Except instead of regulating her breath, she started to breathe more heavily.

“Is everything okay?” Mia asked.

Bethany exhaled through pursed lips. “The contractions are starting.”

Jessa flinched. “That’s not good, is it?”

Bethany closed her eyes and held her belly for a moment. Then she pushed herself up and started to walk again.

“It’s already over. And it didn’t hurt too bad, so I guess that means the labor is still in the beginning stages,” Bethany said. “Let’s keep going.”

Nick thought of all the remaining terrain they had to cross. Bethany and Mia only had to walk to the truck hidden in the forest. Jessa could drive them down. With luck, Charlie and Trina would be recovered and ready to go.

Most of all, he hoped that the group wouldn’t run into any trouble driving to the cabin.

The four of them walked over the final slope as the sun disappeared. They approached Garrison’s truck, a Silver GMC.

“Jessa, you can drive them down,” Nick said as he tossed her the keys.

Nick charged ahead to begin clearing the path below the truck of large branches and logs. Jessa and Mia started to drag the limbs and tarps off the vehicle.

“Hop in,” Jessa said to Mia and Bethany as she opened the passenger door.

Mia squeezed in the middle. Bethany held her belly as she climbed into the seat. She was breathing more heavily now.

Soon, they were at the cul-de-sac. Nick breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Trina and Charlie up and moving around. All the gear was packed and ready to go.

“Are they okay?” Matt asked.

“They’re all right, but Bethany is in labor now,” Nick said.

Liz drew in air sharply. “Do we have time to get to the cabin?”

“It didn’t sound like that cabin is any place to have a baby,” Trina commented.

He crossed the distance to the Dodge, ignoring the commotion his words had sparked.

“Charlie, Trina, are you both recovered?” he asked as he made sure all the gear was secured in the back of the pickups.

“We’re fine,” Trina said.

“Good,” Nick said. “We don’t have any time to waste. We’ve got to get to that cabin now.”

Everyone piled into the vehicles and drove down the dirt road. Soon, they arrived at the state highway. They pulled out onto the road as darkness fell over the land.

Nick led the way in the Dodge truck. He drove as quickly as the white-knuckle turns in the road would allow. They had to get to the cabin before the BSC sent more of its members to track them down.

They could already be out here somewhere, just waiting for us.

Nick’s heart pounded as he drove. The state road was too dangerous. They were out in the open with no hiding places. But they had come too far to fall into a trap now. They had to push on and make it to the cabin.

The turn to the side road that led to the cabin was a welcome sight for them all. A few minutes later, they arrived at the cabin. It was empty, just as they had left it earlier.

They had made it without any sign of the BSC.

Now, Nick had to keep them safe at the cabin. Bethany was right. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He had counted on having another three weeks before the baby was born. In White Pine Falls, things would’ve been much better. Bethany would have been able to have her baby in a safe place and with trained professionals.

Now, she would have to deliver in an abandoned cabin with no running water.

He parked the truck and walked over to the GMC. Opening the door, he saw that the past hour of driving had brought on more severe contractions for Bethany. She moaned and panted through the pain.

“Let’s get you inside,” he said.

She leaned on him as he helped her inside the cabin. Jessa ran ahead to light candles. As Nick and Bethany stepped inside the front door, Bethany looked around. The surroundings were faintly lit from three candles.

“Oh, no,” she said in anguish.

“What is it?” Jessa asked frantically. “Is the pain worse now?”

“No,” Bethany said, looking around. “It’s just that I never thought of having a baby in a place like this. This place is filthy.”

She began to cry, burying her head in her hands. She sank down into a dusty old wooden chair.

“I don’t think I can do this.”

Nick sat on the couch and leaned toward her. “I know this isn’t the kind of place you had in mind, but we don’t have a lot of options right now.”

Bethany nodded. “I know,” she said between tears. “I’m so grateful for everything, for everyone. I just – I don’t know how I can do this. I’m scared.”

Trina stood behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. “You can do this, Bethany. You have to do it. That baby is coming out whether you’re ready or not. And we’ll be right here with you.”

Bethany nodded and wiped her eyes. “Thanks, you guys.”

As the others straggled in the cabin to look around, Liz opened the closet in the kitchen.

“Good, I found a broom. Mia, will you help me clean up the bedroom?”

Mia nodded and followed Liz down the hall.

“We’ll get this place cleaned up, Bethany,” Trina said. “And we can bring the sleeping bag in to put over the bed if you want to lie down.”

Bethany managed a weak smile. “That sounds good.”

Nick stood up. “I’ll go get some firewood. We’ll get a fire going in the wood stove. The heat will make this place feel a lot nicer.”

“What about water?” Jessa asked. “There’s a sink, but no taps. This place doesn’t have any plumbing.”

“I guess the owners just brought bottled water with them when they came out here?” Matt asked.

“I bet there’s a spring out here somewhere,” Charlie said. “I’ll go look for it.”

“Good idea,” Nick said. “Trina and Matt, can you two be in charge of cleaning up the kitchen? We’ll need to cook some food soon.”

“Sure,” Trina said. She and Matt moved to the kitchen and got to work.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes with some wood,” Nick said.

He walked out to the Dodge and found his hacksaw and hatchet. The ax had been in his stolen truck, but the hatchet was better than nothing.

The woods surrounding the cabin were full of ponderosa pines. Pine was a softwood, not hardwood from a deciduous tree like a maple. It was easy to catch on fire, but it burned fast and didn’t produce as much heat. He would need a lot of it.

Nick sawed off several dead underlimbs from live trees. He stacked them in a pile. He walked farther into the woods, lighting his way with a headlamp.

He came to a dead tree that had fallen over. Luckily, it was propped up in the air by another log. He began to saw off chunks of the dry wood. The portion of the trunk on the ground was rotten and wouldn’t burn. He left it behind. He only took the wood that was off the ground and dried by the circulating air.

He hauled the chunks of the dead trunk and the limbs back to the cabin, stacking them near the porch. Using the hatchet, he chopped the chunks of wood into smaller pieces.

Nick carried the wood inside, stacking it neatly on the floor next to the wood stove. He opened the chimney damper and the door of the stove, then arranged the kindling and smaller pieces. With a lighter, he set fire to some newspaper he found and used it to light the kindling. Soon, the fire had caught.

He looked around. Matt was sweeping the kitchen, and Trina was unpacking the food. He heard Bethany and Liz talking in the bedroom.

“How’s Bethany?” he asked Trina.

“She’s doing okay,” she said. “Her contractions are about fifteen minutes apart now.”

“It’s been a while since my wife had our son,” Nick said. “I’m rusty. What does every fifteen minutes mean?”

Trina walked over to the wood stove and reached out her hands to warm them by the crackling fire. She spoke in a lowered voice.

“It means she still has a long way to go. Especially since this is her first baby, she could be in labor a long time.”

Trina glanced back at the bedroom.

“I wish we had some kind of painkiller for her. I had three babies, but they gave me epidurals for all of them.”

“She seems to be handling it pretty well so far,” Matt said, drawing closer to the stove so he could hear.

Trina looked back at him. “She’s still in the early stages. When those contractions get three or four minutes apart, she’ll really be feeling it.”

Nick closed the door to the stove but left the flue open for airflow.

“It’s such a horrible way to go into labor,” Trina said, shaking her head. “She’s in a totally new environment, and after what she went through today, she must be reeling. She really needed a few days to recover from that.”

“Not to mention the threat from the gang members,” Nick said. “We’re still a little too close to their territory for comfort.”

Trina frowned. “Yeah. I was trying not to think of that.”

Nick looked around the cabin. There was no denying its shabbiness, but at least it was a bit cleaner now.

“I’m going to stand guard outside,” he said. “We’ll need to have someone out there on watch at all times. Let me know if Bethany needs anything. And Trina, close this flue in about ten minutes.”

“Sure. Hopefully we’ll have some food ready soon if Charlie finds any water out there.”

“That would be great,” Nick said as he walked outside.

Nick almost bumped into Charlie as he walked down the front steps. He looked at the two full plastic gallons of water Charlie carried in his good hand. He carried a backpack with more bottles over his shoulder.

“Looks like you found the spring,” Nick said.

Charlie grinned. “Sure did. It’s a good hike from here, but the water’s running pretty good.”

“That means we’ll have some dinner pretty soon,” Nick said. “And we’ll need a lot more water. Ask Matt to help you fill up whatever empty bottles and containers we have. It will all need to be boiled on the wood stove.”

“Got it, Nick. Are you putting yourself on first watch?”

“Sure am. I’ll be at the top of the driveway.”

“Ten-four. We’ll bring you some food when it’s ready. I know you must be starving like I am.”

Nick gave him a quick nod, then turned to walk up the long, unmaintained driveway.

The others seemed to have everything under control at the cabin. The baby wasn’t coming under the best circumstances. But at least they had found shelter, warmth, and water. Soon, they would have food. And for the moment, they were safe.

It was up to Nick to keep them that way.

31

Bobby’s convoy turned on to State Highway 311 just as it was getting dark. It had taken them hours to get this far.

Bobby hadn’t been out in these mountains in over a decade. It didn’t look like much had changed.

“There’s a whole lot of nothing out here,” he said to Clark.

His driver nodded. “Just trees and hills as far as the eye can see. How much farther you want to go, boss?”

Bobby chuckled. “You want to turn back already, Clark? You giving up already?”

Clark bristled. “It’s not that, Bobby. It’s just – I don’t know. We’ve been driving all day and we haven’t seen anything. We’ve been down every single back road and checked out all the cabins. I mean, we checked the cabins thirty miles back. We haven’t even seen a single house out this way.”

“What’s your point?” Bobby asked.

Clark darted his eyes to the side, then back to the road.

“Maybe they’re just not out here. Maybe they made it to the interstate. Hell, they could be back in New Mexico by now.”

Bobby’s hands closed into fists. His shoulder twitched.

“You got something better to do, Clark? Is there some place you’d rather be than driving me through these mountains?”

Clark hesitated. “No – no, boss. Of course not. It ain’t that.”

“Because if you have something more important than searching for and taking out enemies of the BSC, then don’t let me get in your way.”

“Bobby –”

“I mean, you can get out right here and walk your ass back to Denver.”

Bobby’s breath was coming in short spurts now.

Bobby’s most trusted man was doubting him. He didn’t think their mission was important enough. He was second-guessing Bobby’s authority.

How dare he?

“Hey, man, I didn’t mean nothing by it. There’s no place I’d rather be than looking for these sons of bitches. The BSC means everything to me. You know that, Bobby.”

Bobby looked out the window. He let go of his fists and crossed his arms over his chest.

He didn’t care if they had to drive all night. The target was still in these mountains. Bobby knew it.

And wherever they were, Bobby was going to find them.

A half hour later, they came to a dirt road that jutted off the highway.

“Should we check this one out, too?”

Bobby nodded.

“Turn your lights out. The dash lights, too. We’ll have to take this road real slow.”

He rolled his window down, letting in the cold night air as his eyes scoured the forest they drove through.

He didn’t mind the darkness. It was a good thing, actually. There was enough ambient light to drive the car slowly down the road. But best of all, nighttime meant they could spot a lit-up house from a good distance. As they crept down the road, Bobby had his eyes peeled for any trace of man-made light.

Behind them, the Land Rover followed suit and shut their lights off. The vehicles traveled quietly for about a mile.

Suddenly, Bobby sat bolt upright in his seat. A plume of smoke from burning wood reached his nose.

“We’ve gone far enough,” Bobby said. “We get out here.”

Clark was confused. “Do you see something? I don’t see nothing out here but trees and more trees.”

“I smell smoke. That means someone’s around here. We’ve got to get out here and walk before our brake lights give us away.”

The men parked the two vehicles and got out. The doors were shut carefully, and Bobby gathered them together.

“We’ll be on foot for the rest of the way,” he said. “They could be anywhere on this road, and we don’t want to give them any advance warning.”

Jennings spoke up. “But we don’t know how far down this road goes. It could be miles.”

Bobby grunted. “What the hell is wrong with you people? Quit crying and start walking.”

I can’t trust anyone. When I find Nick, I’ll just have to take care of him myself.

The six men silently walked down the road with their rifles.

At least they can walk quietly. That much they can do.

On the right side, the forest opened into a meadow. As they approached it, Bobby stopped before they advanced past the tree line. The five men stopped behind him.

The night was dark and without a moon. But the stars gave off enough light that someone could be able to see them walking without cover of the forest.

Bobby crossed to the side of the road opposite the meadow. They waited under cover of the trees. His eyes scanned the area, but he saw nothing. He advanced with his men following.

A hundred feet ahead, he stopped again. This time, he saw it. It was a glowing light, hidden behind the trees in the distance beyond the meadow. Just the type of glow a candle would make in the cabin window.

He found them.

Bobby studied the area while the others waited. He had his plan.

He was in no hurry. They had all night. They had to be smart about this so that they wouldn’t repeat the failure at Idaho Springs. He needed to watch and wait for their opening.

He motioned for them to follow him. They retreated the way they had come. When they were far enough away from the open area of the meadow, he signaled for them to huddle up.

“How do you know that light is them, Bobby?”

“It’s gotta be them. There’s nowhere else for them to hide.”

“And what if it’s not them?”

Bobby grinned. “It just means new recruits for the BSC. Either way, we win.”

He looked his soldiers over. His shoulder twitched once. He paid it no mind.

“We stick to the plan. You still remember the plan, don’t you?”

“Of course, Bobby,” Rodriguez said.

The other men nodded their heads in agreement.

“And you remember what happens if you fail, right?”

Clark swallowed. But he, and the others, nodded.

“All right, boys. Let’s go have some fun.”

32

There was so much commotion in the cabin the first hour or two. Everyone was rushing around, getting food or water and all the things Bethany needed.

Mia sat in the corner of the bedroom, watching Bethany lean against the wall. She was having another contraction. Each wave of pain seemed to hurt her more than the one before. She made noises like a wild animal, grunting and panting.

Mia was proud of her. Bethany had become like a warrior, drawing on her inner strength with each new surge of pain.

But Mia was also frightened.

“You’re doing good, Bethany,” Trina said soothingly. She was standing at Bethany’s side.

Finally, the pain subsided and Bethany exhaled.

“I’ll be right back,” Trina said. “I’m going to bring you some more towels.”

Mia snuck out of the room behind Trina and cornered her in the kitchen.

“Is Bethany okay?” Mia asked.

“Well, having a baby is hard work,” Trina said. “But she’s doing well. Especially after everything she’s been through.”

“So do you think everything is okay with the baby?” Mia asked. “It’s normal to have that much pain?”

Trina nodded. “Oh, yeah. I sounded about like that when I was waiting for my epidurals. The nurses told me I was scaring the other patients.”

Trina looked down at the girl.

“Are you worried about her?”

Mia nodded.

“Try not to worry,” Trina said. “Everything will be fine.”

“But what if there are complications?”

Trina looked away. “We just hope and pray that there aren’t any. Anyway, complications are rare with someone like Bethany. She’s young and healthy.”

But her husband wasn’t healthy. He died from the Hosta virus.

Trina rushed back into the bedroom with the towels.

Mia looked at the bags that Matt and Charlie had brought in from the vehicles. She found the backpack she had taken from Garrison’s cabin and pulled it out of the heap.

Finally, she would have a chance to read through his notes. Garrison had said there was only a small risk of complications for a baby born to an immune mother and susceptible father. That was good news, she supposed, but Mia still had other worries.

Her only hope was the meticulous notes of a madman.

Charlie and Matt finished their third bowls of soup as the flickering candlelight made dark shadows on the wall. Everyone else had already eaten a bowl or two of the hearty, reconstituted soup. Dirty dishes were stacked in the sink.

Finally, the nagging hunger was gone.

Bethany’s groans started up again from the bedroom. It sounded like she was in terrible pain. Charlie worried about her. He didn’t like to hear her in agony.

He looked at Matt.

“You think she’s okay?” Matt asked uneasily.

“I hope so,” Charlie said.

He stood up and looked at the bubbling pot of soup on the wood stove. He moved the pot to the counter and got a clean bowl.

“I think I’ll go carry some more food to Nick,” Charlie said. “He could probably use some.”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about getting some more water at the spring,” Matt said. “We’ll need a lot to wash the dishes.”

He grabbed several empty water bottles and threw them in a backpack.

“You sure you’re okay doing that on your own?” Charlie asked.

Matt nodded and grabbed a flashlight. “I’ll be fine.”

He looked up at Mia, who was sitting on a chair reading some papers by a candle.

“We’ll be back in a few minutes, okay, Mia?”

She looked up distractedly from her reading. “Okay. I’ll be fine.”

Jessa, Liz, and Trina were in the bedroom with Bethany. But one of the three women frequently appeared in the kitchen to get something or other. Mia wouldn’t be alone.

Charlie dished up the soup and walked outside behind Matt. As usual, each of them carried their weapons with them. The boy trudged off behind the cabin in the direction of the spring.

Charlie knew Matt was worried about Bethany. They all were. Even in the best conditions, having a baby wasn’t easy. And the abandoned cabin was far from the ideal location. Charlie hoped the whole thing would be over soon.

He set out to cross the distance to Nick’s guard station carrying the covered bowl of soup. He had to walk slowly to avoid spilling it.

It was a dark night. The faint glow of the stars was just barely enough to light his way on the path.

Charlie had rested enough. After delivering Nick the food, Charlie planned to take his own guard shift.

He wasn’t sure which location would be the most strategic. Maybe he would station himself behind the cabin in the woods. Or perhaps closer to the meadow would be better. He planned to ask Nick – no doubt he would have a good idea.

There was a big rock Charlie didn’t see in the road, and he stumbled over it. Before he could fall, he caught his balance. He managed to keep the bowl of soup steady without spilling it.

He chuckled to himself. His mom had always called him clumsy, and she had been right.

He set out again. Before he had gone ten paces, he heard a rush of movement behind him. His rifle was being pulled off his shoulder before he could even react.

The barrel of a gun was pressed into his back.

“Don’t move,” said a voice.

33

The water bottles jostled slightly in Matt’s backpack as he walked through the woods. The flashlight illuminated the way.

He was glad for the reason to leave the cabin. In the short time he had known her, Bethany had become something like a sister to him, and he hated to hear her suffering.

He walked down the hill from the cabin and continued through the forest. The smell of the pine trees reminded him a little of his home in East Texas. And just like that, all the memories came rushing back. Sometimes that was all it took – a smell or someone’s laughter or even just a word – and he became overwhelmed with nostalgia.

He supposed it was a good thing. He didn’t ever want to forget his family.

Matt arrived at the spring a few minutes later and dropped to his knees at the water’s edge. He took off his backpack and started to remove the bottles one by one.

Somewhere off to his side, a twig snapped. He froze.

Was someone there, watching him in the woods?

With his shaking hands, he began to reach for his shotgun. He stood up and clicked his flashlight off. He held his breath.

A dozen things seemed to happen at once. There was a grunting sound a few feet in front of him. He focused his attention in that direction. Footsteps behind him came out of nowhere, and a large person tackled him to the ground, knocking the shotgun out of his hands.

Matt lay panting on the ground. He looked up at the man who had tackled him. The man now turned the shotgun around on Matt.

“This is what you get for messing with the BSC,” he said.

Matt’s eyes went big with terror as he stared at the barrel of his own gun.

No!

The man to Matt’s side made a move. “Wait, Ferguson,” he said to his partner. “We’re not supposed to kill the kids, are we?”

Ferguson paused, his finger on the trigger.

“Is that what Bobby said?”

“I think so. He's bringing them back to Denver. He said we need more young recruits.”

The man holding the shotgun sighed in frustration. “Fine. I'll keep him alive. But I'm taking him back to the car where I can secure him.”

“Hurry up and get your ass back here so you can help with the rest of them.”

The man holding Matt's gun scowled at Matt.

“Get up. And if you run or yell, that'll be the last thing you do. You wouldn't be the first kid I shot.”

I blew it. I failed everyone.

Matt laced his shaking hands behind his head. He rose to his feet and walked in the direction the man indicated. They would be walking through the forest behind the meadow, far from everyone else.

The other man disappeared in the woods, headed toward the cabin.

Matt was in agony. The BSC had found them. There were probably several other men in the woods around the cabin. Maybe they had already gotten Nick and Charlie. And soon, everyone in the cabin would be killed or captured.

How can it all end like this?

Nick hoped it would be his last time to stand guard in this area of Colorado. After Bethany’s baby was born, he hoped to move the group out of the area as quickly as possible.

Soon, they would be back in New Mexico and out of gang territory. They would live with their friends from Los Gatos as part of a community. It wouldn’t be his little group against the rest of a world gone crazy.

He heard a faint noise in the road leading to the cabin.

Must be somebody coming to bring me some more food.

Earlier, Jessa had brought him his first serving of potato stew. They had crumbled bits of beef jerky in the soup, and the nourishment revived his body. When Nick refused her offer to take his place on guard duty in an hour, she promised someone would bring him another helping of food soon.

A second serving would hit the spot. The night was cold, and he had gone too long without eating that day.

He walked from his station in the woods toward the road where he had heard the noise. He looked down the overgrown path, expecting to see Jessa or Charlie carrying the food to him.

But the road was empty. He shrugged it off, figuring it was some small animal. He returned to his vantage point in the woods, where he could see the main road.

A gunshot rang out in the darkness.

The instant he heard it, adrenaline flooded his system. One word echoed in his mind.

BSC.

The bullet blasted into the tree he stood next to, striking just inches from his face. The bark shattered from the impact and sent slivers of wood flying.

He dropped to the ground. His heart pounded as he desperately looked around. Someone had fired at him from within the woods.

The gang had found him and his group. He knew it. Who else would have muzzle flash suppressors on their guns to keep their location hidden in the dark?

His thoughts instantly turned to the others inside the cabin, especially Mia and the women preoccupied with Bethany.

He had to protect them. He had to stop these ruthless attackers once and for all.

Nick shot several rounds into the woods. But the fire was quickly returned.

He ducked down, keeping low to the ground as he crawled through the forest in the opposite direction. The shots continued. He stopped behind a large tree and raised his rifle. He fired in the direction of the shots.

A second shooter began to fire at Nick from the side. Nick swiveled his rifle around to squeeze off several rounds in his direction as well. But he just couldn’t see them. They were too well hidden; the night was too dark.

Then, he heard other shots. Someone was shooting outside the cabin.

Bullets flew past his head. There were too many near misses. He couldn’t fend them both off. It was just a matter of time before he would be shot.

He kept returning fire, hoping to hit someone.

But in those few seconds, a part of him knew it was no use. Everything was lost. The BSC had tracked them down. If they had two men shooting at him, how many did they have surrounding the cabin?

He gritted his teeth and kept pulling the trigger. He wasn’t going down without a fight.

34

Charlie and Matt had been gone for too long.

“Mia, go wait in the bedroom,” Jessa said.

Jessa picked up her rifle and looked out the front window.

“I’m going to go look for Charlie and Matt.”

Mia nodded and carried her papers into the back room, closing the door behind her.

Jessa stepped outside. She thought about turning her flashlight on, but decided against it. She had that sick feeling in her stomach again, and she needed to take every precaution.

She descended the front porch steps quickly, then looked around. No sign of Charlie or Matt anywhere.

She rounded the corner of the cabin and set off through the forest toward the spring.

Suddenly, the sound of gunfire stopped her in her tracks. Before she could react, more shots echoed through the woods. Two people were shooting at each other. Then, it sounded like a third gun was being fired.

And it was all coming from Nick’s location.

They found us.

Jessa wheeled around. She had to go help Nick.

But before she could take off running, a bullet shot past her and hit the ground a few feet from where she stood.

They had found her, too.

She saw a dark figure a good distance away, hiding in the woods. Bringing her rifle up and wedging it against her shoulder in one swift motion, she fired in his direction.

She missed.

Everything was going according to plan. Bobby’s patience had paid off. One by one, the unsuspecting visitors from New Mexico were leaving the shelter of the cabin. The remoteness of the mountain location had lured them into a false sense of security. They had let their guard down.

He had three of his men taking care of the targets that left the cabin. The other two he had charged with dispatching of the women and child inside the cabin.

Now, Bobby would have the pleasure of killing the leader of the group. Nick. The man responsible for taking down so many of Bobby’s men. Finally, Bobby would get his revenge. He’d put an end to this little group. It would be a lesson for anyone who thought they could outsmart the BSC.

Bobby always came out on top.

He and Clark had Nick under their fire. But somehow, he was dodging the bullets. The man seemed to be blessed with a lucky streak.

And then, Clark was hit. Bobby knew the instant he fell. Bobby cringed as he heard the gurgling sound of blood issuing from his throat.

Bobby didn’t waste any time. Keeping low to the ground and hidden in the brush, he quickly crawled several yards away. Unaware that Bobby was mobilizing, Nick fired several more rounds in Bobby’s original direction. When Bobby was out of range of Nick’s shots, he silently pushed himself up to his feet and set off running.

He made a wide arc through the woods. He was counting on Nick to play it safe. Nick wasn’t the type to get up and run as soon as the shooting stopped. Nick was the type to wait.

Bobby’s wager turned out to be correct. When Bobby circled back in the direction of Nick’s position, he saw his enemy waiting. Nick had no idea that Bobby had snuck up behind him. He didn’t hear Bobby raise his rifle and aim.

Revenge is so sweet.

“Don’t move,” the voice had said to Charlie moments before as he carried Nick’s food.

Charlie froze.

“Walk into the woods,” the man muttered in a low voice. He pressed the pistol into Charlie’s back, urging him forward. They disappeared under the cover of the forest.

“Stop here,” the man ordered.

Charlie froze for just a second. It was just long enough to make his attacker think he was giving in.

With explosive force, Charlie twisted to the side, knocking the man’s hand back with his elbow. The pistol and rifle fell to the ground.

As he twisted, Charlie tossed the scalding soup in the man’s face. Burned, the man grunted and recoiled.

Still holding the ceramic bowl, Charlie smashed it over the man’s face. The man stumbled backward, his hands covering his head in a protective gesture.

Charlie’s eyes flashed at the handgun and the rifle. Both weapons had fallen to the ground behind the attacker.

Charlie had no time to reach for them.

Instead, he pulled his fixed blade knife from the sheath he wore at his belt. He leapt at the man and drove the sharp blade into his belly. The man grunted in pain, and Charlie withdrew the knife.

The man lunged at Charlie, but Charlie jumped out of the way. Before the man could spin around, Charlie drove the knife into his throat and dragged it across his neck.

The man fell to his knees. He died quickly.

Charlie picked up his rifle and ran through the woods just as someone opened fire near Nick. He had to hurry.

His legs were burning, but Charlie pushed himself forward. As he neared the end of the small road and the intersection near Nick’s station, the shooting stopped.

Was that a good or bad sign?

Charlie’s heart beat like a drum.

He ducked into the woods. He had to take cover. Out on the road anyone could spot him easily.

He tore through the forest, ignoring the pain of his injured shoulder or the scrapes and gashes he got on his arms from the stray branches that he brushed up against as he moved.

The only thing that mattered was getting there in time.

As he rounded a large ponderosa, he came upon a scene that made him stop in his tracks. Nick was lying on the ground up ahead, and a few yards behind him a man raised a gun and aimed at his back.

Without pausing, Charlie pulled his rifle up and switched off the safety in one seamless motion. The man must have heard him, because he turned to look in Charlie’s direction. His eyes were wide. His shoulder jerked frantically as he tried to turn his gun around on Charlie.

But it was too late for the guy.

Charlie took him down with one shot. His rifle fell to the ground beside him.

Nick whipped around and took in the scene as he sprang to his feet. He looked at the man lying on the forest floor, drawing in his last breaths. The dying man’s eyes stared straight up into the night. His lips moved soundlessly, trying to form words.

Nick shot the man once more to put him out of his misery.

He looked at Charlie.

“We’ve got to get to the cabin.”

35

Bullets were soaring over Jessa’s head. She returned the fire relentlessly until the figure fell to a heap on the ground.

But the shooting continued. She couldn’t see this one, but she shot in his direction. She held her breath, her muscles tight from tension.

The deafening noise of more rifles being shot added to the confusion. They were shooting guns without muzzle flash, so she couldn’t see where they were. She pulled the trigger yet again, but this time nothing happened.

Her rifle wouldn’t fire. The gun was jammed, she realized as terror took her over.

Her breath came in frantic gasps. She stayed low to the ground and retreated through the woods, her heart pounding in her chest. She feared this would be her end.

As she moved quickly away in a low crouch, she heard someone nearby. She cringed and took what she knew would be her last breath.

Instead of shooting her, though, the person to her side fired at her enemy. She turned to look, the muzzle flash blinding her.

Her target fell, shot dead by one of her friends. When her eyes adjusted to the darkness again, she saw Nick looking at her.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

Nick didn’t give her a chance to ask if he was okay. He was already running toward the front porch.

Someone was shooting in the cabin.

“What was that?”

Liz’s eyes were struck with terror as she turned to Trina. They heard first one shot outside, then more. Suddenly, it sounded like a war outside the cabin.

“They found us!” Trina cried. Her hands flew to her mouth as she looked at the other women.

Bethany didn’t respond. Her eyes were closed as she struggled through another surge of pain.

“Get down,” Liz said quickly.

Bethany was already low to the ground. She was laboring on her hands and knees. Trina dropped to her side and helped Bethany move away from the window. Mia followed.

Liz grabbed her pistol and peered out the bedroom window. She couldn’t see anything.

“Stay here,” Liz said before she ducked out of the room.

She ran from the bedroom down the hall. As she rounded the corner into the front living space, she stopped, paralyzed with fear.

Someone was turning the doorknob.

The boards on the front porch groaned under a heavy weight as someone moved outside. The door creaked as it swung open.

She lifted her pistol with her arms stretched out in front of her. She bent her knees slightly and steadied her hands.

Liz’s heart jumped into her throat as she saw a huge man step inside with his rifle raised.

She fired three times.

The second and third rounds hit him. He staggered back outside the door and fell, lying in a pool of his own blood.

Liz peered down at him. It was dark, and she could barely see his face. She had killed again.

Bethany’s screams from within the bedroom roused her from her moment’s pause. Liz raced back to the bedroom. She found Trina and Bethany where she had left them.

To Liz’s relief, no one had attacked from the window as she had feared. It was Bethany’s labor pains that made her cry out.

“The baby’s coming fast now,” Trina whispered to Liz. “Usually stress like this would make labor stall. But the baby’s so close that we’re past the point of no return. I’m going to need your help.”

Liz watched for a moment, stunned. She jumped when she heard someone running up the front porch steps.

“It’s me. Don’t shoot!” a familiar voice said.

Nick entered the cabin. He met Liz at the doorway of the bedroom, glancing inside to get a headcount. Jessa and Charlie staggered in the front door of the cabin breathlessly.

“We’re missing Matt,” Nick said as he turned and set off toward the door.

“He was going to get water when all this started,” Charlie said.

“Keep down and stay away from the windows,” Nick said before he stepped over the dead man in the entrance. “We don’t know if there are more or not.”

Jessa picked up Trina’s rifle that was leaning in the corner. “I’ll stand guard in here.”

Charlie ran off after Nick. “I’m going with you.”

From the bedroom, Bethany’s moans grew louder as another contraction began.

The two men stepped out into the darkness. They split up, first sweeping the area in front of the cabin, then moving to the back. So far, it seemed like the gang members had all fallen.

There was no one at the water spring. Nick and Charlie pushed onward, skirting around the meadow and cutting back toward the road.

To Nick’s great relief, they found Matt alive. He was tied up in the back of a Lexus. When he saw Nick and Charlie, he grinned.

“I heard all the gunfire,” he said. “At first I was scared that I had blown everything by getting captured. But I knew you guys would win.”

As they untied him, he told them about his capture.

“He was a huge guy with a red beard,” Matt said. “He had tattoos all over his neck.”

“Sounds like the guy Liz shot as he was trying to come in the front door,” Nick said. “We’re lucky he didn’t hurt you, Matt.”

Matt nodded vigorously. “Their leader told them not to kill the children.”

“How thoughtful of them,” Charlie said sarcastically.

“Did he say how many of them there were?” Nick asked.

“Six,” Matt answered.

Charlie exhaled. “Then we got them all. I got two, Nick got two, and Liz and Jessa got one each.”

Nick felt like he could finally breathe again. The immediate threat was over.

“The guy said something about Bobby being out here,” Matt said. “It sounded like he was the boss.”

Nick thought back to the spy they had caught at Chris’s cabin in Idaho Springs.

“Bobby was the one calling all the shots,” Nick said. “He was in charge of the whole BSC. And if he was out here, and we got all six guys. . .”

Charlie lifted his eyebrows. “You mean we just took out the head of the gang?”

Nick rubbed at his jaw. “It seems like it.”

Charlie let out a whoop as they walked back to the cabin. “So we’re in the clear now. They won’t be bothering us anymore.”

Nick could hardly believe it. Were they finally free of the BSC? Was this really the end of it?

“I hope so,” Nick said.

The faint glow of the candles from the cabin windows came into view as they approached the house.

“I can’t wait to tell them the good news,” Charlie said. “They’re not going to believe –”

He broke off midsentence. He turned to look at Nick and Matt.

A baby was crying.

Mia watched as Trina and Liz cleaned the newborn. Jessa brought in fresh water.

Using the midwife supplies that Bethany had been carrying in a suitcase for days, the women had been able to help Bethany deliver the baby and cut the cord. Trina’s help had been key during the entire process. Her calm reassurances had helped Bethany focus and not give in to fear during the labor. Now, Trina’s experience as a mother gave Bethany confidence with her newborn.

Trina wrapped the infant in a baby blanket and handed him back to Bethany, who now lay in bed.

Bethany’s eyes gleamed as she looked down at her son.

“He’s so beautiful,” she said. She marveled at the tiny new being she had brought into the world.

The baby was a healthy pink color all over and responsive to stimulation. Trina had checked his pulse and breathing. He was a perfectly healthy newborn.

Jessa ducked out of the room when she heard the guys walk up the front porch steps. Mia heard their voices, then Jessa’s footsteps as she returned to the bedroom.

“It’s all over,” Jessa said. “I don’t think the BSC will be bothering us again.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Trina said.

Liz breathed a sigh of relief and sat in the chair at Bethany’s bedside. “It’s finally over. No more fighting.”

Liz brushed the hair out of Bethany’s face. “Now we can get you and the baby back home where it’s safe. We don’t have anything else to worry about.”

Bethany bit her lip and looked up.

“But there’s still something,” she began.

Mia felt herself tense up. “What is it?”

“I heard you talking with Garrison,” Bethany said to Mia. “It’s something I’ve been worrying about ever since the outbreak. I never said anything because I was scared. I guess I just tried not to think about it.”

“About what?” Jessa asked.

Bethany took a breath, then looked down at her son. She blinked away tears as she spoke in a whisper.

“What if he gets sick from the Hosta virus? His dad wasn’t immune. Can the virus somehow get activated in his system now that he’s out in the world?”

Liz and Trina looked at each other, then at Jessa.

“And even if he’s immune, what if he’s a carrier of the virus?” Bethany asked anxiously. “You said your Native American friends haven’t been exposed to the virus.”

Mia took a deep breath, then spoke up.

“I think I have something that can help us find out,” she said.

She began to take several items out of Garrison’s backpack. She spread her supplies out on a table.

“What are you doing?” Bethany asked nervously.

“I saw in Garrison’s notes that they had developed a simple test for Hosta virus antibodies,” Mia said. “I found the supplies to do the test in his office, and I have them here. I just need to swab the baby’s mouth for a saliva sample.”

Retrieving a small plastic package, she walked to Bethany’s side.

“Do you want me to do it?” Mia asked gently.

Bethany looked at the sterile saliva swab.

“Okay,” she said, cringing.

Bethany pulled the baby away from her breast and held his mouth open while Mia moved the swab over his gums. The baby began to fuss from the interruption in his feeding.

“That should be enough,” Mia said as she returned back to her supplies on the table. “Now I have to put some drops of this chemical reagent on the swab. Then we wait twenty minutes.”

“Then what?” Bethany asked as she helped her son begin to feed again.

Mia looked at Garrison’s notes. “If the baby has been infected with the Hosta virus, the sample will turn blue. If not, it stays white.”

“So blue means he would be a carrier?” Jessa asked.

“Or that he’s . . . not immune?” Liz asked quietly.

“Yes,” Mia said, looking down. “To both questions.”

Mia set the swab on the table and turned to face the others. Bethany looked down nervously at her son.

Outside the bedroom, the guys awaited the results of the test. Charlie kept himself busy bringing fresh water from the spring while Nick dragged the dead body off the front porch. He found the keys to the Land Rover in the victim’s pocket.

As Nick was washing his hands, he heard a sudden chorus of excited voices in the bedroom. He knocked on the door. Jessa let him in with a grin on her face.

“I take it there’s good news?” he asked.

Mia nodded. “The baby is fine. He’s not sick with the virus, and he can’t get anyone else sick either.”

Charlie and Matt appeared in the doorway, eager to join in the celebration.

“Come in,” Bethany said, smiling. “He’s just finishing eating. Do you want to hold him, Nick?”

“Sure.”

It had been years since Nick had held a baby. He felt the sharp pain over losing his own family come rushing back. But as he took the little bundle in his arms and stared down into his clear, blue eyes, he sensed a new kind of hope that he hadn’t felt in weeks.

“Meet Nathan, Jr.,” Bethany said.

36

The group opted to siphon the gas from the vehicles left by the BSC. Preferring not to travel in the vehicles used by the gang members that had attacked them, they left the cars behind. Besides, they knew they would find new vehicles eventually.

They made it out of the mountains without incident. The roads were deserted. They took Interstate 25 south and left the BSC territory behind.

Nick swapped out Garrison’s GMC for a red Ford F-150 they found in southern Colorado. Matt smiled when his uncle selected the vehicle. It was just like his dad’s truck.

Gasoline wasn’t much of a concern on the interstate, either. With all the abandoned cars in every small town and city, they were able to siphon and refuel easily. The convoy headed south, making good time on the empty roads.

In Trinidad, near the New Mexico line, they found a handful of abandoned homes. They spent a few hours cleaning out pantries. Finally, their food supply was starting to be replenished. It wasn’t enough to last through the winter, but it was a good start.

When the three-vehicle convoy got to Chama, they stopped to look for more food in the small supermarket. Nick and Jessa went in to search the shelves for any leftover items. They found a few items among the rubble left by the chaos of the Hosta virus: mostly things overlooked by looters or shoppers in their final days.

“This is nowhere near the food supplies we had back at your grandfather’s lodge,” Jessa said as they pushed a couple of half-full shopping carts out of the store. “But hopefully we’ll get there eventually.”

Nick looked at the items they had found by combing through the store’s destroyed aisles. The packages and cans of shelf-stable food might make all the difference to them. It might keep them from starving.

“Yeah, we’ll have to hit up more empty houses along the way,” he said. “We’ll find enough one way or another.”

Jessa nodded. “If we survived the BSC, we can survive the winter.”

They pushed the carts to the Ford truck, where Liz and Charlie helped them unload.

Charlie nodded in approval. “Nice work, guys. You found beef stew and canned tuna fish.”

Liz’s face lit up. “And you even found some cereal!” she exclaimed. “I could use a break from oatmeal.”

“And there was a bunch of baby food,” Jessa called over to Bethany. “For when little Nathan is ready for it.”

Bethany looked up from the passenger side of the Forest Service truck where she was lounging with the sleeping baby. She smiled at Jessa and gave her a thumb’s up.

Trina didn’t move from where she stood with her rifle. She was on high alert at all times, eager to redeem herself for the times she had been less than alert on guard duty.

She had been a little different since Nathan’s birth. The new addition to their makeshift family, and her key role in bringing him into the world, had renewed her spirit. The baby gave her hope and a reason to go on. In fact, the newborn seemed to have that effect on everyone.

“Hey! There’s someone across the street!” she said suddenly, pointing at a clinic across the four-lane road.

Everyone looked. A man and a woman walked out of a medical building and began to cross the street.

“They’re coming over here,” Trina said. She eyed the couple anxiously.

A flurry of movement erupted around Nick as a few of them hurried to get their weapons or take cover. But Nick stayed put. He studied the couple approaching them. His face lit up in recognition.

“Is it really them?” he muttered to himself.

“Who?” Matt asked.

Liz looked more closely, then a smile broke out across her face.

“It’s Daniel and Anne!” Mia said, running out into the street to see them.

The others were close behind. They all met in the street, full of excitement and curiosity. Anne threw her arms around Mia and wrapped her in a hug.

Nick, Charlie, Liz, and Jessa embraced their friends and stared at them in amazement. It had only been a few days since they’d seen each other. But so much had happened that it felt like a lifetime. Seeing familiar faces was an elixir for them all.

“What are you doing out here?” Nick asked them. “I thought you two would have been in White Pine Falls by now.”

Nick's eyes fell on Daniel’s shoulder. “Looks like you’ve run into trouble.”

Daniel looked at Charlie’s injury, which was very similar to his own. The two of them burst into laughter as they realized they had almost identical dressings on the same shoulder.

“It’s a long story,” Anne said, smiling. “And we could say the same for you all.”

“My mom got sick, and we had to quarantine ourselves for a few days,” Daniel said.

“Are you better now?” Mia asked.

Anne nodded. “Yeah, I guess it was just the flu. We had to make sure it wasn’t the Hosta virus, so we separated from the rest of the group going to White Pine Falls.”

“And then we ran into some trouble. We came here to get antibiotics for my shoulder injury,” Daniel began. Then he looked around. “But where are my manners? Come inside. We can sit and talk in the clinic.”

They followed them into the community medical center. After introducing Anne and Daniel to Bethany, Matt, and Trina, everyone took a seat in the lobby. They exchanged stories of everything they had been through the past few days.

Mia collected a saliva sample from Anne and tested it. The girl smiled as she told Anne she was free of the Hosta virus. Anne was relieved to hear she hadn't contracted the virus, and that there was no risk in contaminating anyone from her village.

“What a clever little girl,” Anne said as she watched Mia put away her supplies.

“Mia's the best,” Liz said proudly.

“She's amazing,” Bethany said. “I don't even want to think about what would have happened in Garrison's cabin if Mia hadn't been there.”

Mia smiled shyly and returned to her place between Anne and Liz. Nick winked at her, remembering the terrified little girl he had first seen after Liz rescued her in Albuquerque. She had come a long way since then. Mia had found a place with people who could appreciate her talent and give her the love she needed. He knew that there would be no stopping her.

Just like there would be no stopping Matt. His nephew seemed less and less like an unsure child every day. Nick was already proud of the man Matt would become.

They had all come a long way. The trials they had been through had challenged and changed them.

“I'm just glad you all made it back to New Mexico,” Anne said. “We may have lost our homes in the fire, but at least we have our health. Although, I’m afraid I’ll always be worried any time someone gets a cold now.”

“And I’ll be worried every time I hear a car drive up,” Charlie said.

Jessa nodded. “We’ve all been through hell. It’s going to be a while before we can let our guard down.”

Anne smiled. “Having a home and a community might help you relax. The offer to come to White Pine Falls still stands, you know. For all of you. We need good people who can work.”

Nick looked at the weary faces of his friends and nephew. They could all use some refuge.

“We appreciate your offer,” he said. “And we’d be honored to join you there.”

“Definitely,” Charlie said. “We don’t have much of a place left to go at this point.”

“I just worry about food this winter,” Nick said, shaking his head in regret. “I don’t want to be a burden on your people. We had plenty of supplies, but we lost a lot in the fire. If only I’d gotten us out of the lodge sooner.”

“Nick, it’s not your fault,” Jessa said, her brow furrowing. “If anyone’s to blame, it would be me.”

“And let's not forget the marauding teenagers who stole what didn't get burned up,” Charlie added.

Anne stood up, putting an end to their discussion. “Follow me.”

She led them down the hall to an examination room. She opened the door and stepped aside for them to get a look.

Liz’s mouth fell open in surprise. “What the. . .?”

The room was packed with boxes of food, stacked high in rows against the wall. It was enough to feed several people for weeks.

“Wow,” Jessa said, stepping inside the room. “Where did you get all this?”

“Found a house stocked full of food just a few blocks from here,” Daniel said.

“They must have been survivalists,” Anne said. “Unfortunately they weren’t immune to the virus, though. We got the food out, drove it over, and brought it inside. We wanted it in here with us while we rested. You can’t leave anything important out in plain sight with everyone searching for food.”

“Yeah, we’re actually glad you’re here because you can help us haul it out of here,” Daniel said, laughing.

“How about this: whatever we can’t fit in our truck is yours to keep?” Anne said.

Nick shook his head. “We can’t take the food you found,” he said.

“Nonsense. You can and you will,” Anne said matter-of-factly. “I don’t want any of your refusals, Nick. Now, this won’t be enough for the whole winter, but we’ll have to keep looking for more once we get to White Pine Falls.”

“Yeah, we were thinking of making some trips to the neighboring areas to scout out more food,” Daniel said.

“We could definitely help you with that,” Charlie said.

“We just need to find enough until the gardens come in,” Anne said. “I’m sure my family is already working on the gardens now.”

“Are there houses already there?” Matt asked. “Did people live in White Pine Falls before? Are we moving into their houses after they – they died?”

Anne looked horrified. “No, I’d never do that. We may have to take food out of dead people’s houses but I’d never live in their empty homes.”

Daniel laughed. “You have to understand one thing. My mom believes in ghosts.”

Anne rolled her eyes at her son, then turned to Matt to answer his question.

“White Pine Falls is a Forest Service campground. There are dozens of campsites with big, old log cabins scattered around. There should be enough cabins for everyone. The eight of you can share one, if that’s acceptable?”

“That’s more than acceptable,” Jessa said. “It’s a miracle. We thought we might have to build something before winter.”

Liz nodded in agreement. “I think I can speak for everyone when I say we’re so grateful to you both.”

“Yeah. It’ll be so nice to have a home again. Especially with this little one,” Bethany said, smiling at the sleeping baby in her arms. She looked up at Anne's open, kind face. “Thank you.”

Nick felt an enormous weight being lifted off his shoulders. They had a house to live in, and enough food to last a long while. Maybe things would work out after all.

“I just ask for one thing in return,” Anne said.

“Anything you want,” Nick said.

“You’re a carpenter, right Nick?”

“Yep. Well, used to be one, anyway.”

“I’ve always wanted a long table where I could work on my seedlings and dried herbs without having to bend over so much,” Anne said. “With shelves and room for all my supplies. I’m afraid my husband isn’t very handy at building things, and I’m even worse.”

Nick smiled. “I can build you a work station that would make Martha Stewart jealous.”

Anne let out a hearty laugh. “Perfect.”

Anne turned to Bethany, who looked like she was fighting sleep. “You want a break?”

Bethany nodded. “I just fed him. Maybe I could take a nap in the back?”

Anne took Nathan gently in her arms and gazed at the peaceful expression on the baby’s face.

“Sure, go rest,” Anne said. “I’ll take good care of this little one.”

While Bethany napped, the others loaded the food in the trucks. By the time everything was ready to go, the sun was getting lower in the sky. Anne woke Bethany, and the group set out toward their new home.

Nick followed Daniel’s truck in his Ford. They passed through the diverse terrain of northern New Mexico. Low, dry valleys climbed into cooler, mountainous areas. The clean smell of pine and sage scented the air.

As they approached their new home, they passed through mixed, rich forest and crossed a clear, running stream. It reminded Nick of his grandfather’s land, where the lodge had been. It felt familiar, but new at the same time.

It was twilight as they pulled into White Pine Falls. Driving into the campground area, they saw all the vehicles and trailers brought by the Watlah tribe and parked to the side. Once they passed the vehicles, Nick looked at the area with surprise. The people had been hard at work.

Everywhere he looked, the land was being transformed. While Anne and Daniel had been in quarantine, their family and friends had cleared crucial sections of forest for grazing land for the livestock and gardens. They had brought a tractor out to the campground and had used it to prepare patches of land for gardens. In one area that had been cleared of trees, goats were grazing on the underbrush. A large, grassy meadow had been fenced in, and a few cows grazed there. The felled trees were stacked to the side. Some of them were being processed for building materials and firewood.

In just a few days, the people had transformed the area into what was sure to become a thriving community. Of course, there was still a lot of work to be done. Nick knew barns and sheds would need to be built, gardens planted, and water systems installed. But with so many people organized and working as a team, they would make progress quickly.

They parked the vehicles and got out. Daniel’s father and siblings came running when they saw Daniel's truck. The family embraced joyfully. Anne was in tears as she hugged each of her children and her husband.

Daniel’s father, Raymond, looked up and smiled at Nick and the others. He shook Nick’s hand and slapped him on the back playfully.

“It’s about time you showed up,” he said, smiling.

Nick grinned. “We had a bit of a detour.”

“We’re happy to have you,” Raymond said. He looked at the others. “I’m sure you’re pretty spent from your journey. We’ve got a cabin we’ve been saving for you all.”

Nick looked at the happy, but tired, faces of his friends. These were the people who had been through so much with him, who had defended him, whom he had defended. They had worked hard to stand at this place united and hopeful for a new life. They were survivors; they were a family.

“Welcome home,” Nick said.

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Dave Bowman is a writer and native Texan. When he's not writing about the end of the world as we know it, he can be found planning for his future homestead or haunting his favorite barbecue joint.

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