The tent was back off the road about seven meters. It wasn’t a real tent so much as a tarp strung over a line between a power station pole and a pale sapling. There was a fire outside it though, with a man hunched over it feeding twigs and sticks into the smoky flames. An electric motorcycle leaned against the power station pole, its display dark either because it was conserving power or it was dead. Amos walked over, making sure his hands were always where the other guy could see them, and stopped about four meters away. Peaches stumbled along at his side. He figured that to anyone who didn’t know her or who she was, she probably didn’t look real threatening.

“Hey there,” Amos said.

After a long moment, the other guy nodded. “Hey.”

“Which way you heading?” Amos asked.

“West,” the guy said. “Everything’s fucked east from here to the coast. Maybe south too. See if I can get someplace warm.”

“Yeah, things are shit all over,” Amos said like they were at a coffee kiosk and chatting about the weather. “We’re heading northeast. Baltimore area.”

“Whatever’s left of it,” the guy said. “No offense, but I think your plan sucks.”

“That’s okay. I was thinking the same about yours.”

The man smiled and didn’t go for a gun. If he had one. Not so many guns among the law-abiding Earth populace as there were in the Belt. And if the guy was willing to just shoot the shit this long without anyone escalating or making a play, probably he wasn’t a predator. Just another accountant or medical technician still figuring out how little his degree was worth now.

“I’d offer to share,” Amos said, “but we ain’t got shit.”

“I’d help, but the tent’s only big enough for one.”

“I’m small,” Peaches joked, but only sort of. Skinny as she was, she had to be feeling the cold worse, and when he paid attention to it, Amos had to agree it was getting pretty damn brisk.

“Word of warning? Head north a few klicks before you cut any farther east,” the man said.

“Why?” Amos asked.

“Militia motherfucker. NO TRESPASSING signs and everything. Took a potshot at me when I went to ask for some water. Kind of asshole that’s probably pissing himself with glee that the world went to shit and made his stashed guns and paranoia pay off.”

Amos felt something in his chest go loose and warm and thought it might have been relief. “Good to know. Take care then.”

“Peace be with you.”

“And also with you,” Peaches said. Amos nodded and turned north, trudging back along the road. About half a klick later, he stopped, squatting down by a tree, and watched the path they’d just walked down. Peaches huddled beside him, shivering.

“What are we doing?”