“Twelve miles. Not far.”

“Maybe another ten, then we should check out some of the side roads. Maybe we’ll find another settlement like ours, get some word of what the fuck from anybody who’s come up from the south.”

Before Eddie had finished the sentence, Flynn whipped the wheel right, rattled the truck onto a skinny road that immediately curved hard right.

“Jesus, Flynn! I said—”

“Engines.” He pulled the truck off the road, stopped it where the curve and the trees blocked it from the main road. “Wait.”

Flynn jogged over a hillock, then—and though he’d seen it plenty now, Eddie still gaped when Flynn simply merged into one of the trees.

Sort of … became the tree. A weird-ass, and, hell, pretty damn cool elf thing.

But it still gave him the way-out willies to watch it happen.

“Just hold on, boys. Stay,” Eddie ordered Lupa and Joe as he eased out of the truck, crouching beside it with his rifle ready.

He heard the engines now, bikes mostly to his ear. That deep, throaty roar. Coming hard, coming fast. By the tree—in the frigging tree—Flynn would have an unobstructed view of the road.

Eddie hoped he wouldn’t have to use the rifle; was resigned to using it. He’d shot a man—a big, burly Raider—during an attack on their group south of Charles Town, West Virginia.

It wasn’t a moment he’d ever forget. It wasn’t an act he wanted to repeat.

But …

The roaring built, blasted, then began to fade. On a shaky breath, Eddie pushed to his feet.

Flynn slid out of the tree. “Raiders.”

“You sure?”

“Five motorcycles—three of them doubled with women riding pillion. A truck, four inside, two in the bed. A camper. I could only see two in it. Skull and crossbones painted on the side. They had a naked man strapped to the roof of the camper. Dead.”

“Christ. Just when you think the world can’t get more fucked-up. Good ears, dude.”

Elf ears, Eddie thought, which meant he might not have to kill anybody today.

“They’re heading away from New Hope, so that’s something.” Relieved, Eddie looked back toward the truck. “Might as well keep on this road, right? No point taking a chance of them turning around. No point taking on that many.”

“We should walk first.”

“Because?”

“They can hear engines, too. And some of these plants?” Flynn gestured to the small grove of trees. “The wildflowers and weeds? They can be useful. We should dig some up.”

“Supposed to be scouting, not gardening.” But Eddie signaled to the dogs so they leaped out of the bed of the truck as Flynn moved into the trees. “Gotta be some houses back through here,” he continued as Flynn crouched down to dig with his knife. “Not on scavenging either, but it doesn’t hurt to look. Somebody might be holed up. It ain’t right nobody’s nowhere.”

Lupa let out a soft, warning growl that had Flynn rearing up, stumbling back as the girl flashed out of a tree, knife slicing.

Eddie lifted his rifle, lowered it as Flynn danced back a second time. “Uh-uh, just no. I’m not shooting at some kid!”

“She’s old enough to slice me open,” Flynn snapped back.

Lupa solved the problem by leaping up, knocking the girl back, standing on her shoulders while she sucked in the air the fall had stolen.

Flynn moved fast enough to blur, wrenched the knife out of her hand before she could jab it at Lupa.

“He won’t hurt you. We won’t hurt you.”

She aimed a fierce look at Flynn out of golden brown eyes. “Don’t touch me. If you do, I’ll hurt you.”

“Nobody’s touching nobody.” Eddie swung the rifle back over his shoulder, held both hands up. “Everybody chill, okay?”

Joe bellied over to her, licked her face. Her lips trembled as she closed her eyes.

Flynn sheathed his knife, stuck hers in his belt. He crouched, put a hand on Lupa’s head.

And spoke to the girl’s mind.

I’m like you.

Her eyes flew open. Lies, lies.

No. I’m like you. I’m Flynn. Eddie isn’t like us, but he’s with us. We’re not like the ones who went by on the road.

“Come on, Flynn, call Lupa off. Let the kid up.”

“We’re talking.”

“You’re … Oh. Okay, cool.”

You don’t have to run. But if you need to, we won’t chase you. We have some food in our packs. You can have it.

“Is she hungry? She’s pretty skinny.” Skinny, dirty, and pretty damn pissed to Eddie’s eye. “You want some food, kid?”

Flynn smiled. “You see? He’s with us. She’s thirsty,” he said, pulling off his pack and drawing the bottle of water from the side pouch. “It’s all right, Lupa.”

The wolf backed off, sat.

“Don’t touch me.”

Saying nothing, Flynn set the water beside her, rose, and stepped back.

“Look, she’s, like, twelve. We can’t just leave her out here by herself.”

“Fourteen,” Flynn said, reading her thoughts.

“Whatever. It ain’t safe, man.”

“She can take care of herself. But there’s no need to be alone,” Flynn continued as she snatched up the water, drank. “Unless you want alone. We have people, good people.”

“Girls,” Eddie said. “It’s not just guys and stuff. You ought to come with us.”

“I don’t know you.”

“Yeah, stranger danger, but still. Out here alone ain’t safe.”

“We won’t hurt you. You’d know that if you look.”

She watched Flynn as she drank again. “I don’t know how. I don’t know why I can hear you in my head.”

“Or become the tree, the rock?” He smiled at her again. “It’s what we are. I can help you learn. We won’t make you come, but you should.”

“Maybe you got lost?” Eddie suggested. “If you’ve got people, we can help you find them.”

“They’re dead. All dead!”

Flynn took her knife out, laid it on the ground. “The rest of us have to live. We’re going to walk to the houses nearby, see if anyone is alive and needs help. If no one is, we’ll take supplies if we can find them. Come with us. There are more like us where we live now. More like Eddie, too.”

She grabbed the knife, got to her feet. Her hair, nearly the same color as Flynn’s, nearly the same color as the bark of the tree, hung in matted tangles. Her eyes, big and dark, projected belligerence more than fear.

“I can leave when I want.”

“Okay.” Flynn turned and started to walk. Though it made him nervous to have some wild girl with a knife behind him, Eddie fell into step with Flynn.

“Does the dog have a name?” she asked.

“He’s Joe. He’s a great dog,” Eddie said. “And Lupa’s a good dog, too, for a wolf.”

Flynn didn’t bother to glance back. “Do you have a name?”

When she laid an unsteady hand on Joe’s head, the dog sent her a happy, tongue-lolling grin. Her lips nearly curved, nearly smiled for the first time in weeks.

“Starr. I’m Starr.”

* * *

Using the back entrance of the hospital—out of sight from the road—they loaded up the truck. Kim kept watch in the front of the building.

Since the last trip someone else had gone through. Someone more interested in opiates and morphine than sutures and bandages and antibiotics. Jonah loaded in an EKG machine, a fetal monitor, and—remembering the twins’ delivery—scavenged all he could from the NICU. Poe rolled out more on a gurney, and Aaron followed with more, including an autoclave.

As before, Jonah ignored the dried blood spatters on walls, on doors. At least this time there were no bodies to be carried out and burned in a mass pyre.

But the stench of death took a long time to fade.

“It’s a good haul,” Jonah decided once they’d loaded the box truck. “Poe, can you drive this?”