“Sooner rather than later would be good,” Elle remarked.

“So they took your friends?”

“Killed one. Took three.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Welcome to the apocalypse.”

She finished cleaning the wounds, wrapping some of the worse ones in bandages. There was nothing else that she could do. He couldn’t move and there was no one else to help.

“I’ve done what I can,” she replied. “You should just stay here and rest.”

“It’s not like I can leave.” Nathan looked at Elle. “Thank you.”

Elle shrugged.

She took a water bottle from her pack and offered it to Nathan. He drank.

“So,” Elle said, sighing. “Did you become a soldier before or after Day Zero?”

“Day Zero?”

“The EMP. The invasion.”

“Ah.” Nathan coughed. “Before. I was a Marine. Overseas.” He barely managed to lift his shoulders. “Seemed the like the right thing to keep on fighting after everything went to hell here at home.”

“The whole world’s gone to hell,” Elle said, nonchalant.

“Nah, not all of it. There are people like me.” Nathan offered a broken smile. “We still believe that we can fight this thing. We keep hell from taking too much of a hold.”

“Maybe.” Elle raised an eyebrow. “How did you end up here?”

“Walked as far as I could,” he replied. “Finally collapsed in this house.”

“At least you made it to shelter.”

“Just in time to die,” Nathan said.

“You’re not going to die,” Elle replied automatically. “You’re going to be fine and—”

“Elle.” Nathan held up his hand. “I’m dying.”

Elle said nothing.

Nathan nodded at Bravo.

“This is Bravo,” he said. “But you already knew that. He’s my buddy, my brother.” He held out his hand, barely able to raise it without crumpling with pain. Bravo softly nuzzled his fingers. “Bravo is a Grade-A bomb dog. He’s been on one tour in Iraq, been trained by the best in the world. He knows his stuff.”

There was a long silence. Nathan struggled to take deep breaths. Elle guessed that one of his lungs had collapsed, judging by the way the shrapnel had hit his ribcage, digging into his side.

“Bravo is loyal to a fault,” Nathan continued. His eyes became clouded with tears. “He would die for his brothers and sisters.”

“I know,” Elle whispered. “I can see it in his eyes.”

Nathan nodded.

“Have you ever seen a bomb dog in action, Elle?” he asked quietly.

“No.”

“Let me show you.” Nathan flicked his wrist forward. “Bravo, search.” It was a stern but familiar command to the dog. He dutifully sniffed the room, as if knowing that he was doing this to comfort his dying master rather than actually looking for explosives.

He returned to Nathan’s outstretched hand.

“Usually this is the part where I hand him his favorite toy,” he said. “But I lost it when the mercenaries attacked us. Bravo likes to be rewarded at the end of a good job.” He coughed, spitting up blood. Elle hurried to wipe it up with the rag. Nathan pushed her arm away. “Forget it,” he heaved. “I’m a mess anyway.”

Elle returned to her spot on the floor.

“If Bravo ever finds explosives or something that he thinks is a potential threat,” Nathan explained, “you’ll know by the way he’ll go rigid. He’ll freeze, sit still. He’ll stare at the spot until you’ve checked it out. He’s got a highly trained nose.”

Nathan’s voice became softer and softer, dissolving into the stillness of the abandoned mining town. At last, he said, “Take care of my dog, Elle. He’s my brother.”

Elle nodded.

“And, Elle?”

She looked at him, briefly locking gazes.

“Don’t give up.”

Chapter Six

“Samuel,” Elle said. “How much longer?”

“It will take a few hours, miss,” he replied. His fine black hair was streaked with gray. Powdery ash was smeared across the sleeves of his charcoal-colored suit. Elle sat in the backseat of the Mercedes, staring out the window. They were quite a distance from the city, and she could see the outline of the Capitol Records Building from their vantage point on the hill.

“But Aunt and Uncle aren’t that far—”

“We’ve got to be careful, Elle,” Samuel interrupted. His words were harsh, clipped. “There are a lot of people who’d like to have a working car, and they’ll gladly take it from us if given the chance.”

Elle swallowed a nervous lump in her throat.

Her luggage was piled in the backseat. A box of books. A suitcase full of clothes and shoes. Her touch tablets and cellphone were at home, along with the rest of computerized technology. Nothing worked anymore. It was all gone.

“You’re going back for Mom, right?” Elle asked.

“Of course.”

The apartment complexes in Santa Monica stood square and white against the late evening sky. The penthouse level of the largest building suddenly exploded, sending a burst of fire into the air, scattering shards of glass and ashes onto the street below.

The skyline of Los Angeles emitted an orange, fiery glow. Bonfires raged in the middle of boulevards. The tips of apartment buildings were bathed in flames. The whole city appeared to be on fire. There was screaming and yelling. The white noise of the busy city had been replaced with the sounds of total chaos.

“Samuel,” Elle whispered. “I don’t think you’ll be able to make it back into the city to get Mom.”

Samuel kept his eyes on the road.

He said nothing.

Elle touched Bravo’s head, lightly scratching him behind the ears. His fur was soft. She smiled. She had made a small fire in the middle of the room. There was a small hole in the ceiling for the smoke, and the wind carried it away.

The man still lay on the floor, unconscious. Elle guessed that he was in a coma. She had cleaned his wounds, but there was nothing more that she could do.

Elle sat down. The dog was almost as big as she was. He wore a faded collar. He was silent, pensive. Guarding the man by keeping a watchful eye on Elle.

“How long have you been here?” she whispered. “Hmm? You’re a good boy.”

She patted his head. He didn’t move. He didn’t wag his tail. He just was.

Nathan was young. Maybe twenty-five or thirty years old. Elle leaned forward and checked his pulse. Still weak. She frowned. Even in the dim firelight, his complexion was completely white.

Elle sighed. Too bad the dog couldn’t talk.

“So, Bravo,” she whispered. “You hungry?”

She opened her backpack and divided an energy bar in half. The dog sniffed it hesitantly at first, then devoured the entire thing in just a couple of bites. Elle sighed.

She needed to get moving. Jay, Georgia and Flash could be dead by now.

Her conscience whispered, You can only do one thing at a time, right?

Right.

Time ticked by. Elle wasn’t expecting Nathan to live — not with the wounds he had — but she still felt a stab of bitter disappointment. She enjoyed solitude, true… but true companionship might have been nice, if only for a few days.

Uneasy and upset, Elle walked outside, standing on the rotting porch. She had wasted enough time staring at the unconscious form of Nathan, willing him to awaken. She hated to see people die like this — she hated seeing it happen.

Elle crossed her arms over her chest. Dusk was setting in. She wanted to search the rest of the mining camp for food or supplies. It was worth a shot, anyway. She began walking, her katana on her back.

“Hey,” she said, suddenly halting.

She sensed a presence. She turned around, slowly facing Nathan’s dog, Bravo. He paused, tilting his head, gauging her reaction.

“Um.” She relaxed a little. “What do you want?”

His dark eyes sparkled.

I want to come with you.

Elle raised an eyebrow. She took one step backward, then two. He walked forward and stopped when she did. Elle’s lips curved into a soft smile.