The trees gave way to more buildings, the heart of the old town community, and Kira began to see signs of modern habitation: graffiti on the walls, tarps over broken roofs, boards nailed up across shattered windows. The front of an old bank had been hung with corrugated aluminum, and the cars in the parking lot had been pushed together to form a barricade. She couldn’t tell how recently the work had been done, or if anyone was still there. Nothing moved, and no one spoke.

Two blocks later a loud clap echoed through the air, and Kira jumped in fright, clutching the gun. “Was that a shot?”

“Sounds like something fell,” said Jayden, eyes peering carefully into every corner and shadow as they passed. “A sheet of plywood or something, I can’t be sure.”

“So we’re not alone?”

“Oh, we’re definitely not alone.”

Kira scanned the windows along the road—old homes, condos, restaurants, and ice cream shops, all empty, all looted, all scarred by time and weather and human violence. Yoon kept the horses steady, whispering softly to calm their nerves. Gabe brandished his minigun like a talisman, half standing in his seat for better leverage. Skinny and Scruffy crouched low in the wagon, sighting odd places with their rifles that Kira would have never thought to look: a Dumpster by an alley, a billboard, a tipped delivery van lying dented on its side.

Footsteps echoed down the street, and Kira’s heart tensed in her chest. She couldn’t tell if they were running toward her or away. She strained her eyes and saw nothing.

“Could be Voices planning an ambush,” said Jayden. “Could be fishermen thinking we’re the Voice.”

“You’ve got uniforms,” said Haru. “They should know that we’re safe.”

Kira gripped her rifle tighter. “That also makes us a target for the Voice.” She saw a flash of movement in an upper window and swung around quickly, training her gun on the enemy, finger moving fluidly to the trigger to fire the first shot.

It was a kid, maybe fourteen years old. As young as Saladin. His face was dirty, and his shirt was ragged and oversize. Kira gasped, breathing heavily, seeing the boy in her sights and feeling her finger on the trigger. She lowered her gun. “Nobody shoot him.”

Jayden was already watching the boy in the window, who looked down at them stone-faced. The wagon rolled forward, and he disappeared from view. Kira turned and slumped against the inner wall of the wagon, dropping the rifle and covering her face.

The wagon rumbled on.