My arms ache as I heave the last of the supplies into the thirty-foot sailboat, making it rock on the banks of the river. We have a huge stash of weapons; plenty of dried food provisions like cured meat and pickled vegetables; changes of clothes; and a medical kit containing slings, bandages, and antibiotics in case of emergencies.

I then reach over and begin loading the thirty-gallon drums of fuel, knowing how precious each one is as General Reece hands them to me.

“We can only spare four,” she explains, as I load the last one. “You’ll need to sail as much as you can. Use the fuel sparingly, only if you’re in trouble or in bad weather. That engine is really meant for backup, anyway. Remember, this is primarily a sailboat, not a yacht.”

I nod, taking it all in. The Commander’s map is safely stashed in my pocket. Of all the items on board the boat, it is by far the most precious. Without the map, we’ll just be four people wandering through America.

Jack jumps excitedly into the boat, kissing me first, as he always does, and I feel reassured to have the pit bull with us.

Four people and a dog, I think to myself.

“You ready for this?” Molly asks, coming up to my side.

Her question makes me aware of the flutter of panic in my chest. “I guess,” I reply. Then I look at her and frown. “Why did you decide to come with me?”

The corners of her lips turn up. “You might be the best shooter in Fort Noix, but you’re not going to get very far without the second best watching your back.”

She says it in her usual dry way. But I read between the lines of her sarcasm. She’s coming because I’m her friend and she wants to help me. The thought is beyond comforting.

Jack starts barking at something in the distance, and I look over to see figures approaching.

“Looks like our farewell party has arrived,” Ryan says.