After Dad was killed, Adam knew how hard it was for Mom to continue the Top Hat tradition, but she kept them coming, anyway. Adam knew every inch—every tree, it seemed—of this place. It was as if it were a member of his family, an extension of home.

And now, it was none of those things. The moon had turned itself off after the war, so the nights were the definition of total blackness. During the day, the once-brilliant vistas seemed sepia toned. The vegetation still thrived, and there seemed to be more small game to choose from than ever before, but everything was so different.

Emma seemed less appalled over the look of the place than he was, but that was because she had nothing to compare it to. In the three days that had passed since they’d arrived here, Adam had taught her some rudimentary outdoors skills, emphasizing how not to kill herself with poisonous food, and how to skin, dress and cook small game. She didn’t mind the gory stuff, but she still had trouble firing the fatal shots. They kept a well-controlled fire burning all the time, banking it during much of the day to keep the coals hot. At night, they kept the flames shin high for the light and warmth that it provided.

And they banged like bunny rabbits. It turned out that the bed of the Bronco wasn’t too uncomfortable if it was padded well enough with blankets, but sex in the wide-open outdoors was pretty special, too. Emma was insatiable. Not that that was a bad thing.

As far as Adam was concerned, this place was now their home. During the day, he cut trees and trimmed them of their branches in hopes of building a shelter. It wouldn’t be much, but with the colder weather coming, they needed a place with some form of insulation. Yet another skill taught to him by his mother. If he could pull it off, and the final product looked anything like what he saw in his mind, they’d be able to stand on the inside, but without much headroom to spare. At the rate he was going, he figured he’d have the shelter in livable condition in another week, week and a half.

Last night, they’d lain naked next to the fire, chatting about nothing. Everything but the future. Tonight, though, the temperature had dropped, so they’d dressed afterward. A coffeepot sat on the rack above the fire, its water heating to aid in cleaning dishes a while later. If anyone had told Adam a month ago that he’d be heading to bed around nine every night, and getting up with the sun, he’d have called them crazy.

“At our next stop, we need to buy some books,” Emma said.

“I’ve got some playing cards in my rucksack,” Adam offered. “That’d give us something to do.”