Chapters (28)
- Title page
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
- EPILOGUE
I can hear the sound of a chain-link fence being opened. Then the truck picks up speed and we’re bobbing along once again. The jolting movement smooths out and I know that means we’re riding on asphalt, that we’re on a proper road again. I wonder if it’s a new road, built after the war, or if the people of the compound managed to protect one that was already there. Nothing else in the south seemed to have survived the bombs, so I presume that means they’ve been rebuilding.
There are many more checkpoints to pass through, and row after row of fencing. If I’d thought Fort Noix was heavy-handed with its layers of guards and outposts, it was nothing compared to this. The fences are tall and topped with barbed wire. Guards are positioned all along them, though from where I am lying prone in the truck I can only see the tops of their heads. But I recognize their uniforms and the insignia of the marines. It gives me a sense of enormous familiarity and nostalgia.
“This is the last checkpoint,” the soldier informs me. “Then we’re heading straight to the Commander. Your dad, I mean.”
My dad, a commander. I shouldn’t be so surprised. If anyone was going to survive the war and find a way to thrive in spite of it, it was going to be my dad.
I’m surprised to see the tips of trees above me as the truck crawls past the final fence. I’d become so accustomed to the barren desert landscape that the sight of green leaves is shocking. Then, I’m certain in the distance I can hear the sound of running water.
“How do you have trees?” I say. “And water?”
The soldier smiles. “The Commander has turned this place into Eden,” she explains. “We’re completely self-sufficient.”
As I absorb her words, my first feeling is relief. If they’re self-sufficient here then there’s no need for scavenging, no dangerous hunting trips out into the wild.
“Do you take in survivors?” I ask.
The soldier looks at me kindly. “Brooke, I know you have a lot of questions. But I don’t want you to tire yourself out. Why don’t you rest and gather your strength for when you see your dad?”