Adam transmitted his emergency message again, but the radio remained silent. “Do you think maybe everybody’s dead?”

“I don’t want to,” Emma replied.

Adam spread his boot open and pulled the tongue out. What the hell was happening? How the hell could it be happening? Could they be the only people left in the world? Was that even possible?

“Oh, my God, Adam. We’re on our own.”

“We don’t know that,” he said. “Never assume the worst.”

“Is that another truism from your mom?”

Adam didn’t answer. With his bootlaces tied, he stood and wandered back to the overlook. A weird blackness had settled over everything out where the explosions had happened. It was as if the blasts had extinguished the moonlight. He figured it must be the result of all the debris and smoke.

The light inside the roiling cloud finally went out, leaving the night so dark that Adam wondered with a flash of panic that maybe he’d gone blind. A distant part of his brain pinged with a memory that staring at a nuclear detonation would fry your retinas. Within a few seconds, though, shadows returned.

Emma sidled in next to him and squeezed his hand. “This is really, really bad, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yeah, I think it is.”

“Are we at war?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably.”

“What are we going to do, Adam?”

He sighed and swallowed hard against the emotion in his throat. What the hell were they going to do? It was nearly September already, and in this part of West Virginia, the temperatures would start to drop soon. Hell, despite the heat of the fireballs, it felt ten degrees cooler than just a few minutes ago.

He had a hand ax and a shovel in his rucksack, along with a survival knife and some food that he’d intended for breakfast tomorrow, but that wasn’t enough to survive. They weren’t the right tools to build shelters. And they didn’t have the clothes they needed to maintain warmth. Hell, they didn’t even have the weapons available to hunt the game that would get them the pelts they needed to make warm enough clothing.

Adam turned to face her. “We need to find our way back to your car. Get back to school.”

“Can you find it at night?”

That was a great question. He had a compass and a map, and he knew how to use them, but he didn’t pay close enough attention on the hike in to shoot a reverse azimuth that would take them back. He could get them to the fire trail they’d used as a road, but from there, they’d have to pick their way to the car.

“Do we know that the schools are still there?”

“We have to assume they are. Don’t we? I mean, we need shelter. And supplies.”

“Maybe it’s safer to stay out here.”