There was nothing about the approach to Emporia, Kansas, that marked it as being any different from a thousand other haunted towns, other than the banks of tangled vehicle wreckage by the side of the road, indicating an obvious effort to clear a path. As she knew only too well, so many places remained exactly as they’d been left when human life departed them on 14 March 2003.

Or rather, as the towns and cities had become in the hours, days and weeks afterwards. She still marvelled at the biblical scale of destruction she witnessed when walking and riding up from Texas. It was not sinful to compare the perdition that had come upon America with the Old Testament tales that the nuns had scared her with as a child. The cities of the plain had nothing on the Midwestern ruins she’d seen.

As they entered the outskirts of Emporia, the roadside wreckage began to thin out.

‘What happened to all the old cars?’ Sofia asked.

Cindy French nodded, apparently pleased that she’d noticed. ‘We did a lot of it ourselves,’ she replied, which Sofia took to mean the trucking companies, not her three friends in the rigs behind them. ‘Had to clear a path through for the trucks, of course. But all that crap had to be moved because of ambushes as well. You get a convoy coming into a place like this, especially if they’re fully loaded, all those big trucks slowing down – well, it makes a tempting target for raiders. And big piles of crap by the side of the road, that’s a pretty handy ambush spot, right? So over time we did our best to clear it out. And here’s the thing – you remember before when I told you about the feds turning a blind eye out this way? That wasn’t entirely true. They sent the army engineers down here to check on our clearance work, and even assigned a company of soldiers and a couple of ’dozers to bring it up to spec!’ She smacked the steering wheel with her open palm, as if the story had amazed even herself.

Sofia nodded and tried to look sympathetic, but she found the prospect of ambush out in the wastelands unsettling. She’d had her fill of those, from both sides.

‘So there’s nobody here, in Emporia?’ she asked. ‘No soldiers or militia or anything?’

Cindy ground down through the gears as they entered the centre of town. ‘No, it’s too far out from KC to be worth securing. But like I said, it’s still a little too close to the city for any bandits or freebooters to feel completely comfortable setting up shop around here. Sometimes the army or the militia will make a temporary camp out this way, for deeper patrols into Kansas and Oklahoma, but for the most part, it’s a ghost town.’