“My name is Kira Walker, and this is Samm. I’m a medic from the human settlement on Long Island, on the East Coast—up until five minutes ago we thought it was the last human settlement in the world, and from the way you’re talking, I bet you used to think more or less the same thing about this place. We had no way of knowing there were survivors out here, but . . . here you are. And here we are.” She held her hand out, ready to shake. “Greetings from—” She stopped herself right before saying another human being, and felt a sudden pang of loss deep in her gut. She couldn’t say that anymore. She swallowed and mumbled out an alternate end to the sentence. “—another human community.”

Kira kept her hand out, wiping her eyes with her other hand. The armed settlers stared at her in silence. After a moment the blond girl jerked her head toward the east. “You crossed the Badlands?”

Kira nodded. “Yeah.”

“You must be starving.” She lowered the rifle completely and took Kira’s hand; it was just as rough and calloused as her own. “My name’s Calix. Come over to the fire and have some food.”

Samm collected their rifles, and he and Kira followed Calix back toward the bonfire; some of the locals were still watching them warily, but they seemed more curious than scared. Kira couldn’t help but reach for the nearest child, a girl of about nine, but pulled her hand back before touching her curly black hair. The girl saw her, smiled, and grabbed Kira’s hand.

“My name’s Bayley,” said the girl.

Kira laughed, too overcome with joy to know how to respond. “It’s very nice to meet you, Bayley. You remind me of my sister. Her name is Ariel.”

“That’s a pretty name,” said Bayley. “I don’t have a sister, just brothers.”

Everything about this place seemed magical—that Kira was talking to a child, and that the child had brothers. “How many?” asked Kira, barely able to contain her excitement.

“Three,” said Bayley. “Roland’s the oldest, but Mama says I’m more responsible.”