A scientist. And Zuni. One of the Puebloan peoples of New Mexico, like Bisabuela. Like Calliope. Then they were twice connected. A strange déjà vu, a vision of herself standing with Bisabuela at Chaco Canyon during a windstorm, but Chance Guardian was there. He was holding a figurine in his hand, a small wooden object.

Amy broke Calliope’s trance. “You don’t look like any nerd I’ve ever met … with that rifle. You hunting elk? Or just assholes with knives?”

Calliope stared at Chance. When she noticed she’d never let go of his handshake, her neck and cheeks flushed. She pulled her hand away, wiped it on her T-shirt. “I’m Calliope Santiago. This is Amy Denver.” Calliope nearly laughed aloud at the absurdity of the introductions, greeting each other politely as if society hadn’t collapsed, as if they weren’t standing over a rapist’s corpse. “I grew up in Texas.”

He smiled. “Where in Tejas, mujer?”

“El Paso.”

“I’ve passed through it.”

The twins kicked inside her.

“Have you seen anyone else?” Amy asked. “Which road are you coming from? My family’s in Cruces. Did you go through there?”

He adjusted the gun sling and stuck his hands in his jeans pockets. “Nah.” Chance didn’t seem scared or confused, but uncomfortable. “The main roads are blocked, empty cars everywhere. Fort Worth was a disaster.” He drew in a deep breath, let out a low whistle and shook his head. “I took the back roads, Abilene into Roswell.”

Calliope’s gut lurched again, more than babies kicking. The disaster wasn’t contained to New Mexico? “Was there no one?”

“I haven’t seen more than two or three people since I left the university, all of them like this guy, crazy.”

“Or in shock,” Calliope added, her pulse quickening. She felt ill.

“Why aren’t we in shock? We should be the ones shocked,” Amy said. She told Chance about the man at the gas station, who’d tried the same thing. “My clients treated me with more respect.”

“Clients?”

“I’m a dancer,” Amy said. “Exotic.” Calliope watched Chance’s face, noted no change in his expression, no bemusement or judgment. With a shrug, Amy added, “On the side. I’m in college too.” If his opinion changed one way or the other, he didn’t let on, his face set at a polite neutrality.