“Probably rats.” Maybe other more domesticated animals too, though I didn’t say that, and I refused to think too much about it. All I knew was that it’d been six days since the power went out in what I now knew was a multistate outage, if not the entirety of the United States, and desperation was setting in everywhere, some locations more than others. And for those who had been vagrant or homeless even before this started? Maybe they had a leg up, or maybe they had it worse than anyone.

Charlie made a gagging sound, and we stepped out from the dimness under the overpass out into the light of the setting sun.

We walked past a large warehouse, and then a few dark businesses, the roads that led into this city growing more congested with abandoned vehicles the farther we traveled. I saw a gas station several blocks up ahead and gestured to Charlie and Emily to follow me in that direction where I might find another map to replace the one Isaac had stolen.

The buildings were closer together here—we passed a printing company and a taco shop, an insurance agency, and a photography studio.

When we got to the gas station, we found it completely looted. We stepped among the wreckage of overturned shelves and broken glass, not so much as a pack of peanuts in sight. And if any maps had been here at some point, there weren’t any now.

“Great,” Charlie hissed. “Not a damn thing here. And I still have no fucking shoes!”

We stepped out of the store, the sky deep orange streaked with blue, and growing dimmer by the moment.

The sound of an engine caught me by surprise, and I looked up the street to see a vehicle just turning the corner and heading toward us. “Tuck!” Emily breathed. “A truck.”

“Come on,” I said, and ducked as I ran along the side of the gas station, going low along the fence and then stopping. I looked around the corner to see an old-fashioned truck that looked like it had once hauled produce or something trundling toward us, a fabric cover obscuring the bed and featuring an extra-wide back bumper. There were two broad-shouldered men in the front, staring ahead resolutely, and call it a gut instinct, but I didn’t think this truck would stop for a couple of hitchhikers. But it was heading in the direction we needed to go. I turned toward Emily and Charlie, who were behind me. “Follow me.”