“It could be worse,” Elle muttered.

Elle tucked her head and began walking. It was a boring, monotonous march. The scenery was breathtaking. The rolling, golden mountains spread out in every direction, making Elle feel little more than an ant, a speck in the universe. The weather was clear and cool now, and the endless quiet and openness of the region seemed to make Elle’s thoughts echo loudly in her brain. She struggled to quiet her doubts and fears, so she began searching for patterns in the hills and pictures in the clouds to soothe her overactive mind.

The map that Sienna had given her was tucked firmly into the inside pocket of her jacket. She had memorized the route in case she lost it. Highway 58 to Highway 14, to Highway 215 to Highway 10. It was a convoluted route, one that she had mapped out in order to avoid traveling in the up-and-down, steep terrain of the mountains all the way to her destination. It was the easiest way. The entire journey would take about a week if she stayed on schedule.

What are you going to do when you actually find Jay and the others? She mused. You’re not dealing with the Klan anymore. The Slavers are an enemy that you’re unfamiliar with. Are you sure you want to risk your life like this? You could be on your way to Sacramento.

No. Elle had already decided what she was going to do. Life might have gone to hell in a handbasket since the EMP, but this… this gave her life some meaning. A purpose, she guessed. Something to do. More than just simple survival. Survival was a necessity. Everybody was surviving. But helping others? That was a rarity now. People just didn’t do it as much as they used to, because helping someone else meant risking your own life.

Elle kept walking.

Her steps were a rhythmic plod. She kept her head down, shielded from the harsh wind. She wished she had sunglasses. It would protect her eyes from the wide, sunny plain. But there was nowhere to get sunglasses… so she kept moving, tying a loose scarf from her backpack around her forehead and mouth, shading her face.

It struck her how empty the plain was. It scared her, too. She was a moving object on a still stage, prey for any hunter who was keeping his eyes open. She occasionally stopped and kneeled near the center guardrail, studying the road behind her and around her. She saw no one, so she would continue on.

The silence was eerie, too. Without Jay, Georgia or Flash chattering on about something in the background, the loneliness of the valley sunk in. It was different than Los Angeles. In the city, even the silence of abandonment was broken by the cries and fights of the Klan and Omega. Here… there was nothing. It was beautiful, but it was empty.

Elle shuddered.

And she kept walking.

“So, enlighten me, shadow warrior,” Georgia drawled, stopping to catch her breath. Her long, curly yellow hair bounced in the breeze. They were scaling the side of a small hill in the Tehachapi Mountains, escaping from Los Angeles. Heading toward Elle’s aunt and uncle’s ranch.

“Enlighten you about what?” Elle asked.

“How come you’re so mysterious. I mean, with the warrior mojo and all that.” Georgia wrinkled her nose. “Were you a doomsday prepper or something?”

“A prepper?” Elle laughed softly. “I wish.”

“But you handle yourself… well. Better than us. And we were street kids.” Georgia shrugged. “We all thought we were tough, you know? Me running drugs, Flash and Pix hacking credit cards, and Jay… well, we ended up doing time for it, so the universe killed us with karma, I guess. But still. All of this? It’s a new world. How come you adapted so fast?”

Elle looked ahead. Jay was farther up the side of the hill, in front of Flash and Pix, struggling along, panting and grunting.

“I guess I’m one of the lucky ones,” Elle deadpanned.

“You’re not lucky. You’re just cold.”

Elle stared at Georgia. The tall girl broke her gaze and nervously scratched the back of her neck. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said.

“Yeah,” Elle replied, “you did.”

“Listen, Elle—”

“You’re not wrong, Georgia.” Elle frowned. “I know what I am. I’m okay with it.”

It was such a lie. She wasn’t okay with anything.

They were living after the apocalypse for God’s sake.

“So are you ever going to tell me what Jay’s story is?” Elle said, clearing her throat. “Or is it still a terrifying secret?”

Georgia cracked a wry grin.

“He’s a man of mystery,” she replied. “I should let him tell his own story.”

“He won’t talk.”

“You two are a match made in heaven.”

Elle rolled her eyes.

“I don’t like him, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

Elle’s cheeks warmed. “I actually kind of thought you guys were together.”

“Me and Jay?” Georgia smirked. “That will be the day, my little friend.”

“Ah.” Elle looked at Jay again. “But he likes you. I can tell.”

Georgia said nothing for a long time.

Then, “You think so?”

Elle smiled.

“Yeah. I think so.”

Many sour experiences with looters and vandals had taught Elle to stay away from abandoned rest stops. The general store in the valley with Sienna and Bob had been a freak thing. She hadn’t been thinking straight. She’d been starving and dehydrated. She blamed it on that.

Blame it on anything you want, she told herself. It was still stupid.

So Elle stood on the edge of a massive truck stop. How many idiotic gas stations was she going to have to look at now that Day Zero had destroyed the world? This one was unusually large. There were six rows of pumps and an oversized red barn, the general store. The windows had been broken out. The entire store had already been looted.

That’s when she saw the star.

It was gold, five-pointed and sloppy. It was spray painted on the ground, obnoxious. The color was bright, though. It was fresh. Very fresh. Elle bent down and touched it.

I don’t believe it, she thought.

They were marking their trail.

The yellow stars were the breadcrumbs and Elle was the bird.

She stood up. Had there been other stars that she had missed along the way, zoned out and glued to the monotony of putting one foot in front of the other? No. She would have noticed. She had been looking for a clue. Something.

Well. At least she knew Sienna had been telling the truth.

She was headed in the right direction.

Elle walked to the back of the barn gas station store. She stopped dead in her tracks. It was a graveyard. The plot was riddled with dozens of old graves, covered haphazardly with piles of dirt. Someone had made a crude wooden cross and forced it into the ground.

It was silent. Very, very silent.

Elle grabbed the side of the red barn. There was so much death here. Yet someone had gone to all the trouble to give the people who had died in this place a grave. Who would do that? Not the Slavers. Not Omega.

Maybe there was a militia in the area. A real militia.

A school bus sat behind the plot of dirt. It was streaked with dried blood. Windows were shattered and there were rows of bullet holes riddled throughout the side, making the name of the school illegible.

Elle shuddered.

She walked closer to the bus, taking each step with caution. The driver door was hanging open, broken. It had been forced. Elle took a step into the bus. She pulled her scarf over her nose and mouth, climbing up. She stopped at the front of the aisle. The seats were empty. There were no children, no bodies. Elle sighed, relieved. She walked down the aisle. There were random notebooks and pencils — even a computer tablet with a shattered screen. In the last row, she sat down.