Whoever lived here was as much a survival nut as my dad. There are weapons and medical supplies, matches, flashlights, bandages, thread and needle, and, even more importantly, a small, wind-up radio. There’s also enough food for us to eat well for at least a couple more days, though we’re too close to our destination to slow down now. Still, it would be a great place to rest up for the night.

While Ryan seems overjoyed by the feast we’ll be able to eat, I’m happier about the discovery of the radio. I grip it in my hands, feeling like I’ve just witnessed a miracle.

“We can use this to try to get in radio contact with the military base in Texas!” I cry, clutching it to my chest. “Tell them we’re coming. Get their exact coordinates.”

Ryan seems happy for me and my discovery and smiles encouragingly.

“Here, look,” Ryan says, as Jack becomes excited by something on the other side.

I walk over and see that there’s a trap door in the floor. Whoever built this was clever enough to also dig underground for some protection.

“What if there’s someone down there?” I say.

“I guess now’s the time to find out,” Ryan replies.

He heaves open the trapdoor and we descend into the darkness. The underground bunker is a small room with bedding and pillows. It looks a bit like a nest. Certainly big enough and cozy enough for us.

“Let’s get the others,” I tell Ryan. “I think this would be a great place to rest up.”

We head back toward the camp to fetch the others, relieved that we won’t have to dine on fire-roasted vulture tonight.

But as we draw up toward the spot where we left the others, something unusual catches my attention. I recognize the silhouettes of my friends milling around, but there is someone else there, someone unfamiliar.

I catch Ryan’s arm. “Who’s that?” I say.

He squints, trying to make it out. “A stranger.”

We give each other a wary look. We’ve been lucky so far with the survivors we’ve run into but I’m always on edge, always on the lookout for danger. That the stranger seems to be amongst the group calms my nerves a little; they’ve clearly deemed him safe.

We start to draw toward the gang. The stranger who has joined them is an older man, rake thin, with long white hair. He has a rasping laugh that I can hear even from this far away. Jack sprints up, yapping away, and runs in circles round the man’s ankles, making him let out another one of his thick, mucusy laughs.