I don’t know what I’d been expecting to happen once we left. Surely, I’d convinced myself that there should be something, right? Chaos, screaming, traffic, sirens…some sign of life. But the further through the wasteland we trekked, the quieter and darker it got until we’d been swallowed whole by the lingering smoke. The only sounds around us were that of our own footsteps as we stumbled blindly through what had once been familiar terrain.
At first, we’d done what any logical person would do in a normal situation; returned to the parking lot. But this situation had been far from normal. It had been so far from anything truly tangible that had this been another day or another time, I could’ve laughed at the absurdity of it all.
The end of the world, in this day of age?
But I didn’t laugh. Not when we’d come to a stop at the edge of the blacktop, only to find it littered with glass and ash.
I didn’t laugh when we found a tree, uprooted and thrown across the parking lot.
Or when we found the crushed body of Mira’s red Pontiac pinned beneath its massive limbs.
The City was off-limits. We’d known that from the start. But once we’d found ourselves faced with the very real - and wretched - reminder, it only seemed to serve a far more dreaded purpose. What now?
And so we walked, stumbling blindly across the parking lot and beyond. We staggered for hours, tripping over buried debris and cracked roads. Stumbled over exhausted limbs and through thick smoke. Suffocated in tense silence and swallowed whatever words may have come to mind.
Because maybe, just maybe, following the road would lead us to somewhere.
But as another hour passed, all we found were more desolate roads, forgotten to seemingly everyone. Gray ash coated the pavement, like a dusting of fresh snow. But we knew better. The sun still had yet to peek through the thick clouds, and the world only seemed to be growing colder with every passing minute.
My legs ached, my ankle throbbing something awful and what felt like a hatchet hammering away in my skull. Every limping step forward was closer to something. It had to be. Though I didn’t find myself surprised when the figure walking beside me had come to a halt. I turned, glancing over my shoulder and expecting it to be Sage who’d stopped. Instead, I’d found Mira, about five feet behind the two of us. Sage’s brows were knitted together, her fingers still curled tightly around mine.
“Mira-?’
“What’s the point?” The question came out as a huff through the redhead’s lips. Her eyes were narrowed at the ground as she kicked a stone. It skidded across the pavement before rolling off into a ditch. Her foot fell back to the road, kicking up a small cloud of gray that lingered as a haze around her ankles. “Keep walking? And-and for what?”
Another question I couldn’t answer. And seemingly, I didn’t have to. Sage took another step forward, her hand slipping from mine as she eased up to Mira’s side. Her jaw hung slack, lips parted and eyes searching the girl helplessly. Empty promises hung in the air of her silence and I sighed.
Just beyond the ditch where Mira had kicked the rock was a house that had seen better days. It had clearly been abandoned since before the bombs; maybe even since before the war itself. It appeared structurally unsound, but there were no other options and with the bitter wind licking at my cheeks, the decision was becoming clear.
“We’re not going to figure anything out by hanging around in the cold,” I finally spoke up, willing myself to move closer to the two.
“You’re looking for the coziest place to die, right?” Mira bit out. Her tone was ice, matching the bitter air that swirled around us. Green eyes narrowed even further as she caged her arms tightly around herself. “I know you’re thinking it.”
Even as the words left her lips, the tears had begun to fall. They painted streaks through the blood and ash on her cheeks and she blinked them away, averting her gaze. She rolled her lips in, teeth catching over the metal of one of her piercings.
Coziest place to die.
Dying out here, or dying in there. I’d hardly say it mattered. But I glanced over my shoulder towards the City, all the same. Not even the dying glow of the fire was visible, now. It was long gone, whether it be that we were far enough away or that it had died off altogether, I wasn’t sure. I took another step forward though, nodding my head towards the house.
“Might last a little longer inside,” I tried again.
Sage reached up, offering Mira a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder. With a harsh breath through her nose, Mira leaned against the shorter girl and finally, the three of us began to make our way up towards the house. It wasn’t much better up close than it had been from the road. The roof was caved in, covered by an old blue tarp. As far as I could tell, there was no front door at all. The glass that littered the warped porch however was enough proof that there had been a door, once upon a time. Any and all windows at the front had been boarded up, and the glass crunched under my feet as I eased my way closer to the entrance.
“Wait.” Sage’s voice hissed from behind me, her hand reaching out to grab my forearm. I jolted to a halt, glancing back at her. The two of them stood at the bottom of the steps and her wide, brown eyes darted between myself and the house. Her brows drew together as she took a shaking breath. “What if there’s someone inside?”
A misty cloud escaped from her lips, lingering in the air and I shifted over the glass. Dying here, dying there… I looked back over my shoulder at the abandoned house before looking back to the horizon, towards the City. But that bitter wind blew again and I couldn’t stop the shiver that overtook me. Sage and Mira were no better off. And so, I pulled myself from Sage’s grasp and closed the distance between myself and the entrance.
“Hello?” I called out, taking a cautious step inside. There was no response, and I dared another step. “Anyone here?” I raised my voice a bit more as I made my way towards the center of the room.
Again, no response came. Satisfied that it was as empty as it looked, I gestured to the other two. Sage came in first, glancing around the house warily. Mira sauntered in behind, green eyes locked on the carpeted floors and her nose wrinkled at the musty smell of the old place. And old it was. Though devoid of furniture, the place was showing its age. Old books and newspapers scattered about, broken beer bottles and cigarette butts. Yellowed walls and peeling wallpaper, pulled up carpeting and a pastel kitchen. The place was straight out of an old movie.
“Looks like my Nan’s place.” Mira’s voice broke the silence and I jumped, turning to find her hesitating at the mouth of the hallway. Red curls were starting to slip free of her bun, falling in messy tangles down her back. “Place she’s lived since the 80’s when she was a kid.” I couldn’t see her face, but the thickness in her voice said all it needed too.
Sage crossed over to her, resting a gentle hand on her back and I tore my gaze away. Her Nan was in the City, now. I swallowed back the lump threatening to form in my throat as I wandered towards the kitchen. A quiet crunching under my foot caught my attention and I glanced down. The worn out front page of a newspaper stared back at me.
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May 6th, 2026
A New Era?
America Enters New Agreement With Germany
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And how well did that go? New era my ass.
“Seventeen years later and what’d that get us?” I hadn’t even noticed Mira approaching until her voice sounded right next to me. Her eyes were locked onto the headline at my feet, pierced brow raised. There was an obvious redness to them.
With a sigh, I nudged the newspaper aside and grabbed her arm. “Come on.” I’d tried to keep my voice as gentle as I could, but the waver was still there. It sounded too loud in the quiet of the house. Though the wind hammered against the unstable walls and the house groaned with every movement, it still felt too quiet.
With another harsh sniff, Mira followed without complaint as we returned to what had likely once been the living room. Sage had already found a seat on the floor, her knees tucked up to her chest and face buried behind them. Releasing Mira’s arm, I eased myself down into the space beside her.
There was an ache in my chest as I tilted my head back, resting it against the wall. My eyes fell shut and that steady jackhammering continued in my skull. Coziest place to die, my mind seemed to remind me.
There was a quiet shifting; the sound of someone’s coat brushing against the wall. A warm body leaned up against me from the left, and a head rested against my shoulder. Though the longer I sat there, the warmer it seemed. The throbbing in my leg and ankle had eased and before long, my fingers found Sage’s and they curled around each other.
“I’m sorry,” I finally mustered up the energy to whisper.
I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes, and my voice came out hoarse. What I was apologizing for, I didn’t know. For everything? For nothing? But Sage squeezed my hand, and everything else remained unsaid. Empty promises and reassurances were unnecessary. Whether I’d gotten us to safety or death, I didn’t know that, either. Within the hour though, that seemed not to matter. Darkness began to take over and before too much longer, I allowed myself to drift off.
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There were no dreams while I slept. Only a stretch of darkness and silence, broken by the sound of gravel crunching and distant shouts. Though when I jolted awake, there was none of those things. I shifted in my spot, careful not to wake the redhead who was still resting her head against my shoulder.
Out beyond the window, thick flakes were floating down from the sky again. I knew better than to tell myself it was snow. In the distance, two red lights bobbed along the road, growing further and further away. I blinked the blurriness from my eyes, though a sudden flash of headlights sent me scrambling away from the window. Mira landed with a grunt against the floor, propping herself up and rubbing the heel of her hand against her eye.
I could feel the nasty look she was giving me as I clambered to my feet. “Ro…?” Sage’s groggy voice sounded from her spot in the corner. “What’s-?”
But I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. And I didn’t have to. The loud roaring of a truck outside and the crunching of gravel was answer enough. I’d only made it to the doorway before a sharp pain shot up through my ankle and I pitched forward, catching myself on the frame. That didn’t matter, though. There was no mistaking it now. Three massive trucks bounced along the cracked road, their taillights now the only things in sight. But they were there nonetheless.
“Are-are those people?” Mira spoke up as I stumbled out onto the porch. “As in, soldiers? Are they here? Did they come for us?”
Grey clouds kicked up behind the massive tires as the two girls followed me out onto the porch. The sharp jolt crawled up my ankle again and this time, my weight landed against the railing that groaned under the sudden movement. Though Mira paid no mind and she was the first one to barrel down the steps and out onto the road, arms waving over her head and calling out into the empty world. Or formerly empty.
Sage was the second to take to the stairs. She came to a halt at the bottom, spinning around to face me with eyes wide and brows tugged together. The corners of her lips were twitching up into what looked like a smile. With her hand held out to me, I pushed myself off the railing and accepted her help down to the ground. And in that short distance down the road, the trucks crawled to a halt.
Across the back doors, white stars were painted. Thirty of them; a wide arc over one final larger star. “Soldiers,” I breathed as soon as my feet hit the blacktop.
The ache that had been welling in my chest eased at the sight. I took a pained step forward as the doors to all three trucks swung open. Large, towering figures climbed out, all aiming their guns as they approached. A shadow fell over us as one figure in particular stepped forward, coming to a stop in front of the tailights. His gun was held low in front of him, barrel aimed at the ground. Another man stepped forward, whispering something in the soldiers ear. Whatever concern he may have had, it was shrugged off as the first soldier stepped forward.
“Ladies,” he greeted with a curt nod. “My name is Sargent Malcolm Hawthorne of the National Guard.” Dark eyes flitted between the three of us as Sage and I finally came up to Mira’s sides. She didn’t make any move to show she was even aware that we were there. “Are you three it? Or are there more, somewhere?”
Even as he spoke, he nodded his head in the direction of the old house. Without another word, four of the soldiers fanned out towards the building, guns at the ready. Sage’s fingers tightened around mine as I finally found the words to speak. “Just us,” I answered, clearing my throat to fight the waver that threatened my voice. “We-”
“My brother,” Mira finally burst out, cutting me off. All eyes landed on her as she took a shaking step forward. Tears splashed onto her cheeks, voice thick and trembling as she spoke. “My-my brother. He’s with the-the National Guard. Do you-” She cut herself off with another desperate step forward. I reached out, grabbing her arm, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her head turned, searching the soldiers, frantically. “Do you know him? Sinclaire? Ryan Sinclaire? Do you know him?” Words were now bordering on hysterical as she spoke. Anything else had become violent sobs and beyond that, everything had begun to turn to background noise.
The soldiers were returning before Mira could get her answer, and Hawthorne’s attention had been turned back to them. From there, we were ushered to their trucks with gentle voices and empty promises. ‘You’re okay now’ and ‘we’ll keep you safe.’
But we were loaded into their trucks without argument. No complaints nor questions raised.
I looked between the other two as we took our seats. From here on out, I found myself thinking, our lives are in the hands of complete strangers. But as the massive doors fell shut and the truck revved back to life, I almost found myself relieved.
At least now, it’s out of my hands.
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For the next few hours, there was nothing but the hum of the trucks and crunching of debris beneath the massive tires. It was quiet crying and gentle affirmations. Looks of pity and the crackling of a radio. After what felt like ages, the trucks rolled to another stop. Doors opened and closed. Words were exchanged. I could hear the muffled voices; the same promises we were made when we’d first been loaded in.
When the back doors were swung open and dim light spilled in, there were two new faces. Both were covered in smears of blood and ash, though neither of them made eye contact with the three of us. It wasn’t until they’d climbed in and taken their respective seats that anyone bothered to speak.
The doors were closed and the trucks rolled forward again, continuing the journey. Sage was curled up at my side with our hands held together in my lap. To my left, Mira’s head was buried in my shoulder. Across from me now was a girl, no older than myself. A mess of rust-colored curls hid the majority of her face, though a set of hazel eyes watched me through the tangled locks.
I offered the girl a nod when I couldn’t bring a smile to my lips. She nodded back, holding out a shaking hand.
“Dina.”
I reached out and accepted the handshake. It was sticky with blood and my throat closed up ever so slightly. Blinking back the burning in my eyes, I cleared my throat. “Rowan.”
Her lips twitched into a subtle smile that didn’t reach her eyes and she retrieved her hand. Beside her, the taller boy offered a nod in my direction and I returned the gesture. We didn’t speak again after that.
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First, there was a gentle buzzing. It sounded distant; like somewhere at the edge of a dream. Then, there were voices. Quiet. Muffled. They met my ears as a whisper, and the same promises played in the back of my mind like a song. You’ll be okay. It’s okay now. It was a mantra. But not a promise.
But maybe I’d let myself believe that, regardless. For the first time since those bombs had landed on New York, there was a warmth to my body. A calm stillness that I dared not disturb. A stillness. I could no longer feel the truck moving underneath me, nor could I feel Sage’s hand in mine. Mira’s presence was gone as well, though the buzzing had grown louder and far more persistent.
Stillness.
Silence.
My eyes snapped open, finding a dizzying array of fluorescent lights flickering down at me. My heart thudded heavily against my ribs as I pushed myself into a sitting position, though that only managed to make the dizziness worse. Nausea rose in my throat and I screwed my eyes shut. Thick strands of hair clung to the sweat that layered over my skin, and I raked my fingers through the dark locks. It wasn’t until I’d pulled my hand from my hair that I finally dared to open my eyes again.
Flakes of ash still floated down from my hair and the reminder of everything that had happened was still caked over my fingers. Blood remained crusted under my nails, dirt and ash smeared across my skin. My clothes were still the same as what I’d been wearing earlier that day. They were crusted, burned and blood-stained. But they were mine. Folded up at the foot of the small mattress was my letterman jacket; singed and burned, though not beyond repair.
I took another deep and shaking breath, wincing as the air scraped against my throat. The room around me was empty, aside from the rickety cot I’d been laying on. The fluorescent lights buzzed lazily from above, flickering occasionally. The blanket that rested across my legs was the bare minimum; rough and scratchy, with a flat pillow to accompany it. But aside from that, there was nothing else notable in the room.
But how…?
And where-?
I forced myself up and off the mattress, though the aching in my body intensified and a sharp jolt of pain rocketed up through my ankle. I staggered forward, catching myself on the concrete wall with a hiss through my teeth. The room swam around me, spiraling and swaying at a dizzying rate. My lungs heaved uselessly as sweat began to prickle at the back of my neck again. I tried to move. Wanted to move. But even my involuntary swaying had begun to worsen the ever–present sensations. Have to reach Sage.
If she’s alive.
But I bit back the thought, forcing it to the back of my mind. My fingers curled, nails scraping against the rough wall. She’s fine, I told myself. Has to be.
Several minutes passed before the room finally stopped moving. Pins and needles still collected under my skin but slowly, I eased my foot back against the floor. The pain flared up again, though at a more manageable level. I sucked in another slow breath before finally coaxing myself to take another limping step. And then another. Another.
My hand slid across the wall, holding me steady as I carefully made my way across the room. The only goal in mind was finding Sage and Mira. Figuring out what happened. Where we were. But those questions, at least, could be answered later. Right there, all I cared about was making it to the doorway.
Doorway.
A sad excuse for a door, in my opinion. The closer I managed to get, the worse it looked. The only thing that stood between myself and whatever lay beyond the room was an old cloth curtain hanging from a rusting rod. I came to a stop, maybe a foot away. Shadows passed along the other side, tall and looming. Though they never stopped. Never once looked in the direction of the curtain or myself. The heat began to prickle under my skin again and my chest burned with that need.
I took the final step forward, grabbing the edge of the curtain and pulling it back. More fluorescent lighting spilled into the room and I squinted against the harshness of it. Long, steely corridors met me on both sides. Curtained room after curtained room lined the walls, with groups of soldiers marching down the long stretches of hallways.
Again, not a glance was spared in my direction.
This couldn’t be a prison, right?
After a second group of soldiers had marched past without seeming to notice me, the tightness that had been coiling in my shoulders eased a bit. The moment they were gone from sight, I pushed myself off the doorframe and staggered out into the hallway.
Where was everyone?
But the longer I spent wandering those halls, the more futile it all seemed. Every hall looked the same; rooms upon rooms and blinding, flickering lights from above. The ever-present hum of electricity only made it all the more maddening. Muffled voices floated around from somewhere, along with the heavy thumping of uniformed bootsteps. No matter what though, they never seemed to get any closer or any further away.
The only real indication that I seemed to be getting anywhere was the dim red glow of numbers that sat above each room. I followed them, watching as each number grew smaller with every room I passed. Maybe at least this way, it’ll lead somewhere.
Just as I’d made my decision, it all came to a screeching halt as I turned yet another corner and nearly collided with a vaguely familiar figure. I balked, staggering back against the wall to avoid slamming into him. “Sargent-” The name left my lips as a shaking breath as my eyes darted down the hall behind him. “Where…?” It was yet another seemingly endless corridor that ended in a set of double doors. Beside that though, there was no one else around. By the time my gaze landed back on him though, he was offering a smile. “My friends. Where are they? Where am I?”
“I was just coming to get you.” Sargent chuckled, resting a gloved hand on my shoulder. The burning in my chest had begun to cool a bit under the weight and he nodded his head towards the doors at the end of the hall. “They’re safe, don’t you worry. You’re all safe.”
Giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze, he turned and began to guide me down the hall. I moved along beside him, my hand still on the wall as I tried to keep up. Pins and needles flared with every forced step I took, and I winced. The soldier slowed his pace a bit, turning his head to give me a once-over. “Once we meet with your friends, we’ll have to get you to the clinic. Get that ankle wrapped up.”
I didn’t answer him beyond a simple nod, but that seemed to be enough for him. We fell into silence as we drew closer to the doors. The melodic thrum of voices had grown louder, now and the glowing sign above the set of doors was more than enough to explain why. Mess Hall. Beside the double doors was another sign that listed the meal times.
A set of doors swung open from the wall adjacent to the mess hall. Sargent came to an abrupt halt, nearly dragging me to a stop with him. Standing in the doorway before us was another soldier; just as tall and slender as all the others. Dark skin, darker hair and an absolutely unmistakable resemblance to someone else I knew. “Rowan?”
That voice had lifted every ounce of crushing weight from my shoulders, and I moved forward a few steps. I’d heard that voice so many times during my years in Manhattan, but hearing it here…hell, even seeing him here was so unbelievably jarring. A grin spread across his lips, though Sargent spoke up when I couldn’t find the words.
“I take it you know this young lady, Sinclair?”
For the first time, the soldier seemed to notice the officer standing beside me and he stiffened his posture. “Yes sir,” he responded with a curt nod before his green eyes landed on me once again. Even with Sargent standing beside me, the rigidness of his stance softened. “That’s my sister’s best friend. And…” it seemed to click for him then as he took a step forward. “That means if you’re here then…she is, too. Right? Mira’s here?”
I opened my mouth but still couldn’t find the words to speak. If Ryan was here, then maybe that meant others were, too. Maybe-
“Your sister is safe.” Sargent spoke up once again, filling the silence when I couldn’t. My mouth felt full of sand, and I swallowed under Ryan’s unwavering gaze. “My men and I brought in five civilians earlier today. Go ahead and head to the mess hall. Mira should be in there.” He offered me a gentle push from behind, nodding towards Ryan. “And take miss…?”
“Vanderwaal.” Finally, I managed to force something out. With the subtle dismissal, I crossed down the hall to join Ryan. “Rowan Vanderwaal. And ah…thanks.” Once I reached Ryan, I’d turned to face Sargent one last time. Though I’d found my voice, that didn’t account for the smile that I still couldn’t force. Instead, I offered him a nod. “For getting us out of there.”
The smile the officer gave me seemed anything but forced. Still, he returned the nod. “Of course.” When his gaze returned to Ryan, however, that stiffness returned. “Once you’re done in there, I’d like to see you and your men in my office. I think we’ve got some things to discuss from your outing. Until then, I take it miss Vanderwaal is in good hands?”
The best, I wanted to say. But the sudden bang of the massive doors colliding with a wall send a jolt down my spine. The concussive blast rang through my mind and the stench of burning rubble filled my nose. I screwed my eyes shut, turning away from the two soldiers. When I finally steadied my breathing and opened my eyes, the doors to the mess hall were swinging shut. The smell of fresh food wafted through the doorway and my mouth watered ever so slightly.
“The mess hall, right?” I spoke up, licking my lips. The steady thud of bootsteps approached me, and Ryan’s arm draped itself over my shoulder in an awkward hug. I leaned into him, unable to bring myself to return the sentiment.
He didn’t say anything in response, and the two of us continued the final few feet towards the massive room. The closer we got, the faster he moved. The second the doors were thrown open and we entered the room, his eyes were scanning over the crowds of people.
The mess hall was somehow the exact opposite of what I’d been expecting. Instead of solemn chatter and a dimly lit room, it was…lively. Rows upon rows of table, each packed with people who sat shoulder to shoulder with the next. People moved around each other like ants, holding trays as they attempted to navigate the bustling room. Those who hadn’t found a seat were lined against the walls, all talking amongst themselves.
Laughter and voices bounced off the white walls that reflected the wretched fluorescent lighting tenfold. Were these all survivors? From the City? I scanned over the crowds, desperately looking for Sage or Mira. For my mom. Maybe my sister. My step-dad.
Anyone.
Anything.
But the further in that Ryan weaved, the more the sounds of the room seemed to grate under my skin. I stumbled to a halt, pulling out from under his arm.
“Rowan?” He turned to look at me, brows furrowed. His gaze flitted from myself back out to the crowds, clearly unwilling to waste another second on anything aside from finding his sister. My feet were rooted to the ground though, despite his outstretched hand that urged me to follow him.
The scent of food was so thick, it was almost suffocating. Warmth blistered against my skin and loud shouts and laughter surrounded me. Too many people, too much noise too many- I felt the gentle weight of his hand on my shoulder, but I once again backed out of his grasp.
“Go find Mira,” I managed to tell him instead.
I dared another glance over the tables. Every laugh, every smile, every nonchalant conversation told me they didn’t know. Didn’t know or didn’t care. There was a girl with short hair seated closer to the double doors, laughing along with those around her. Her back leaned up against the table and a combat boot propped up on the bench. Like she didn’t care. At another table, three people were getting into a heated looking argument. About what though, I couldn’t tell. And certainly didn’t care.
I took another step back, and Ryan reached out again. “Wait, Rowan-”
But I was done. The prickling under my skin had become too much, and the trembling that practically reached my bones was only further aggravated by the roar of the crowd. The carelessness of it all. I backed away, turning my back to them all. The doors were only a few steps away now and I reached for them. Before I had the chance to pull them open though, a voice sounded over the mass of people. A voice I knew all too well.
“Ro?
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