All of our belongings were taken back in the prisons in Memphis, so the only weapons we have now are the crowbars, axes, and spades we managed to grab as we were leaving. It’s going to make hunting even more difficult, but we have no other choice. We take Jack with us too, hoping that he may be able to sniff out an easier catch for us.

We’re silent as we go, but after a while, Ryan begins to speak.

“I’m sorry about what happened back there,” he says.

“You mean about you almost leaving Ben to die?” I challenge him.

He looks away, ashamed. “Yeah.”

I shake my head, fuming. “How could you?”

“I thought it was a suicide mission. I didn’t think I’d make it.”

I realize then what Ryan did for me. He thought going back to get Ben would mean certain death, yet he still did it. I should be thanking him, not berating him. Feeling ashamed, I finally mumble an apology, and we carry on in silence.

After a good twenty minutes walking, Ryan freezes. “Look,” he says, pointing into the distance.

I can just make out a patch of trees. The sight is completely out of place in the harsh desert landscape. As we draw closer I realize the trees aren’t growing out of the ground at all, but leaning against something. A fence? My heart stops as I realize it’s a dwelling that’s been covered in branches to conceal it. Through the trunks I can make out signs of life: a shack, a tin roof, something that looks like a well.

Ryan and I exchange a look. Neither of us can handle more fighting and whoever lives inside could be dangerous. But we also can’t give up on the chance that we may have found shelter. Our group could seriously do with some shade.

“Shall we?” he says.

I nod my agreement and tighten my grip on the crowbar I’m carrying.

Carefully we approach the dwelling, which consists of little more than a wooden hut. It looks so out of place amongst the desolation. It must have been erected after the bombs. There’s no way it would have survived them if all the other buildings around here were eradicated. Someone, some survivor, decided to make this empty wasteland his home.

We get to the hut and Ryan opens the door, crowbar raised over his head. Inside, everything is in darkness. It smells of dust.

I go in first. Jack races in after me, sniffing all the corners and crevices.