Heather turned to the newcomers and smiled. “The council won’t be meeting tonight,” she said, “but we can get you some beds and a place to shower, and tomorrow we can show you around, introduce you. In the meantime, let’s get you folks settled.”

As the sun set, solar lights set in the ground glowed to life, giving the town a warm ambient glow and a feeling of home that Rachael hadn’t felt in quite some time. Many of the residents of Happy Valley were out and about; families on porches, sitting at picnic tables or just strolling. Men, women, and children, clean and well-dressed, looking at the newcomers curiously, whispering among themselves.

Rachael suddenly realized just how out of place they appeared, with their tattered superhero garb and armor and swords, covered in dirt and blood and sweat. She shifted the bag on her shoulders uncomfortably, taking care to smile at everyone who looked her way, but she hadn’t felt so self-conscious about how she looked since New York Comic Con, right before the shit hit the fan.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Tommy let go of Alice’s hand and ran past Rachael to a young couple out in front of one of the homes. The worried frowns that had marred their foreheads smoothed out when they saw their son. The couple scooped him up, hugging him close and kissing his head over and over with frantic joy.

Rachael’s heart hurt, watching that. As happy as she was for Tommy and his family, she would never have that reunion with her own parents. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she swallowed hard, looking down at the ground as she tried to compose herself.

A hand on her shoulder snapped her out of her unwelcome thoughts. Alice gestured toward Heather, who had stopped in front of a beautiful two-story house. A veranda wrapped around the front and the lawn was well-tended, with purple flowers creating a splash of color against the cream-colored outer walls.

“You can stay here tonight,” said Heather. “There are enough beds for all of you.”

Rachael looked up at the house, her eyes wide.

It was beautiful and perfect. Too beautiful. Too perfect.

It was the sort of home you aspired to move into one day with your family, back in the world before; not the sort of home people could have in the world now.

It felt . . . wrong.

***

There were three bathrooms in the house, all bigger than her college dorm room. Rachael finally chose one, stripped off her armor and clothes, piling them to the side, and turned on the shower.

It had been months since she had a real shower, and she would have settled for a cold one. So when hot water streamed out of the showerhead, Rachael nearly dissolved in bliss. She scrubbed herself down with lilac scented soap, watching months of dirt swirl down the drain.