I have a lot of questions for Raffe now that I’ve realized I should collect as much knowledge of angels as possible. But cannibals take precedence, and we keep our conversation to a whispered minimum.

I thought that it could take all day for us to get to Skyline but we reach it by mid-afternoon. Good thing, too, because I don’t think I can handle another meal of cat food. We have plenty of time to rummage through the houses on Skyline for dinner before it gets dark. These houses are nowhere near as close to each other as houses in the suburbs, but they are still regularly spaced along the road. Most of them are hidden behind redwood trees, which is great for surreptitious supply searching.

I wonder how long we should wait for my mother and how we’ll ever find her again. She knew to come up to the hills, but we had no plans beyond that. Like everything else in life right now, all I can do is hope for the best.

Skyline is a beautiful road along the hilltop of the mountain range that divides Silicon Valley from the ocean. It’s a two-lane highway that gives glimpses of both the valley on one side and the ocean on the other. It’s the only road I’ve walked on since the attacks that doesn’t feel wrong in its deserted state. Flanked by redwoods and smelling of eucalyptus, this road would feel more wrong with traffic on it.

Not long after we reach Skyline, though, we see cars piled up crosswise on the road, blocking any potential traffic. This is obviously not something that happened by accident. The cars are angled ninety degrees to the road and staggered for several car lengths, just in case someone decides to crash through them, I suppose. There is a community here, and it does not welcome strangers.

The angel who now looks human takes in the site. He angles his head like a dog that hears something in the distance. He nods his chin slightly, ahead and to the left of the road.

“They’re over there, watching us,” he whispers.

All I can see is an empty road running through redwoods. “How can you tell?”

“I hear them.”

“How far?” I whisper. How far are they, and how far can you hear?

He looks at me as though knowing what I’m thinking. He can’t read minds as well as have amazing hearing, can he? He shrugs, then turns to head back into the cover of the trees.

As an experiment, I call him all kinds of names in my head. When he doesn’t respond, I come up with random images in my head to see if I can get him to give me a funny look. Somehow, my thoughts drift to how he held me during the night, when I dreamt I was freezing in the water. My imagination has me waking up on that couch and turning to face him. Somehow I’m wearing only my…