Ryan grits his teeth. “No way. If I go back, the slavers will get me.”

I stare at him, horrified. “We can’t leave him!”

“We left Zeke,” he spits back. “We left Stephan.”

“They died, Ryan. You heard Molly. We have to let them go. But Ben is still alive and he needs our help!”

Behind me, clinging on with dear life, Bree starts to cry.

“Please,” she begs Ryan. “You’re the only one with a spare space. Don’t leave Ben to die.”

The motorbikes are getting so close to Ben now it’s almost too much to watch. I feel like every muscle in my body has tensed as I wait for Ryan’s decision.

Finally, he lets out a deep sigh and turns his bike around, heading for Ben. The rest of us keep gunning it along the narrow pathway, racing up and up, higher and higher. I can’t look back, terrified that I’ve sent Ryan to his death. I can’t lose them both.

“BREE!” I shout over the roaring wind and revving engine. “What’s happening?”

I can feel her cheek pressed into my back. The vibrations from the bike are making the wounds from being whipped sting.

“They’re okay,” she says. “Ryan’s got Ben.”

I let out my breath. They’ve made it. For now.

Just then, there’s an almighty explosion. I can’t look back, too scared that if I do so I’ll veer off the narrow road and plunge into the crater beneath. Bree fills me in.

”Ryan and Ben blew up the bike,” she cries. “The rest of the slavers are gone.”

They did it. We’re free. We made it.

What’s left of us, anyway.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

We travel south, following the dried up riverbed of the Mississippi, riding without stopping. I know it only takes about eight hours from Memphis to Houston, and I’m desperate not to stop. But everyone’s weary, battered, and exhausted, and eventually, after traveling for two hours, even I have to concede that we need to rest.

The devastation here is absolute. Everything has been completely flattened, reduced to a desert. The bombs that caused craters as big as towns in the north have completely flattened cities in the south. What were once bustling metropolises have been completely eradicated. All around, as far as the eye can see, there is nothing. Which means nowhere to hide, nowhere to shelter, and nowhere to hunt.

Finally, we draw to a halt. I get off the bike and help Bree down. Her face is streaked with tears and I realize she must have been crying about Zeke’s and Stephan’s deaths the whole way. I can’t say I blame her. If my dad hadn’t drilled it into me not to cry, I would have broken down too.