Day One

She shrugged. “It’s better than being in the desert.”

I kind of like it, to be honest.

Elle hid a sarcastic smile.

They followed Danes and the two rivates through the parking garage and through a heavy metal door. The door led to a huge, double-wide staircase that descended deeper into the ground. They ended up two flights below the loading area, deep beneath the mountain. They walked through more doors and into a huge room flooded with generator-powered lights. Everything was concrete. It resembled a colorless gymnasium — minus windows and screaming cheerleaders. There were men and women lying on cots on the floor, wrapped in blankets. There were children, infants.

“This is the Refugee Ward,” Danes said. He nodded at Private Yancey and Private Kilion. They pulled away and disappeared into the ward. “This is where you’ll be able to find some food and water. See that lady in the back over there?”

He gestured to a heavyset woman with white hair. She was standing behind a table, doling out bowls of soup. “That’s Myra Linch,” he continued. “She’s in charge of the Ward. You need anything, you talk to her.”

“When are we going to get our weapons back?” Elle asked.

“We’ll talk about that later,” Danes replied.

“Or we could talk now.”

“You’re starving and dehydrated. I suggest you eat first.”

“No. I want to talk.”

Danes folded his arms across his chest, chewing on his lower lip. He tilted his head, studying Bravo. “All right. We’ll talk.” He pointed to the far corner of the room. “You three”— he waved a hand at Georgia, Jay and Flash— “go eat.” He looked at Elle. “You and the dog can come with me.”

“Hey, if you’re talking, I want to hear, too,” Jay stated.

“I didn’t ask you what you wanted,” Danes answered. “Do what I say, kid.”

Jay curled his fingers into fists. Elle touched his shoulder.

“Just do it,” she advised. “I’ll be back.”

Jay swallowed and glared at the floor as Georgia muttered something under her breath. Jay seemed to agree with whatever she said and turned away, Flash following.

“This way,” Danes told Elle.

Elle clicked her tongue and Bravo stayed close to Elle as they moved out of the Refugee Ward, into the stairwell outside. Danes leaned against the railing, a pensive expression on his face.

“Where’d you find the dog?” he asked at last.

“Why do you care?” Elle demanded, defensive. She kept her arms folded, her stance defiant.

“Kid, your dog’s name is Bravo. He belonged to Nathan Ingalls, a lieutenant from Sector Twenty-Seven.” He shook his head. “Nathan went MIA about two weeks ago, along with his dog, a bomb dog from the military K-9 units that existed before the EMP. So what I’m asking you is this: why the hell do you have Nathan’s dog?”

“You knew Nathan,” Elle stated. “He was your friend.”

“Yeah, he was my friend,” Danes replies. “Now tell me the truth, because I can throw you out of here just as quick as I picked you up.”

“You think I killed him?” Elle asked, raising an eyebrow.

Danes didn’t reply. He only waited.

“I didn’t.” Elle looked him straight in the eye. “I found him dying in an abandoned mining camp in the middle of the desert. Bravo was the one who brought me to him. I tried to save him, I swear, but there was nothing I could do. He just… slipped away.”

Danes blinked, swallowing hard.

“So he’s dead,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

“And you took the dog?”

“The dog took me, sir. I had nothing to do with it.”

Danes smiled slowly.

“And these kids you’re with?”

“They’re just kids.”

“You’re obviously in charge of the group. What’s your story?”

“My story is just like everyone else’s. I’m trying to stay alive.”

“You’re fresh out of Slaver Territory with a bomb dog and a group of kids trailing behind you like a Boy Scout troop,” Danes remarked. “That’s no small feat.”

Elle didn’t answer.

“You and your friends can stay here,” Danes said at last. “For now.”

Elle nodded. That was fair.

“We were originally headed to Sacramento,” she said. “We heard it was safe there.”

“It’s safe for now.”

“Is it worth trying for?”

“Anything’s worth trying for, now.” He paused. “You look after your dog, Elle, and he’ll look after you.” He touched Bravo’s head, scratched him softly. “Go eat and get some rest. We’ll talk more after.”

Elle didn’t argue.

She couldn’t afford to.

“Samuel is dead,” Elle said.

Aunt and Uncle were sitting at the breakfast table. Uncle was wearing his leather duster, his flight cap stuck into the pocket of his pants. Aunt raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t know that for sure, Elle,” Aunt replied.

“Yes, I do.” Elle stepped into the kitchen, placing her hands on the breakfast table. “He was supposed to be back here with Mom two days ago. I’m telling you — he’s dead. You haven’t seen the city like I have. It’s bad. People are killing each other and—”

“I have seen the city, my girl,” Uncle interrupted. “I don’t take my plane out every day for pleasure rides anymore. I’m looking, searching. And what I’ve seen are bad things.”

“We have to go back into the city and find Mom.”

“We can’t do that.”

“How can you say that? She’s your sister! She’s your—”

“Enough, Elle.” Aunt raised her hand. Elle shut her mouth. “We have something we want to say to you.”

Elle tensed.

What could they possibly have to say to her at a time like this?

“I’m leaving,” Uncle said.

“You’re… going away?”

“Yes. I think I can help the militias in their fight against the Omega invasion. I’m going to do my duty and help end this nightmare.” He looked at Aunt, and she touched his hand across the breakfast table. “I feel called, I guess.”

“You’re leaving us alone to go join a militia somewhere?” Elle repeated.

“I’m leaving to fight for my country—”

“Don’t give me that patriotic crap. You’re leaving.”

“It’s not crap, Elle. It’s the truth. It’s not right for me to sit here and wait this out.” Uncle shook his head, ru