“Thank you,” Peter said.

“What for?”

“All of it.”

From Chase, a grin. “You’re welcome. The letter’s on your desk, by the way.”

After Chase had gone, Peter lingered in the kitchen; he emerged a few minutes later to find that nearly everyone had left. He said goodbye to Meredith and stepped onto the porch, where Apgar was waiting with his hands in his pockets.

“Chase bowed out.”

An eyebrow went up. “Did he now?”

“You wouldn’t by any chance feel like running for president?”

“Ha!”

A young officer jogged up the path. He was out of breath and sweating hard, evidently having run a great distance.

“What is it, son?” Peter said.

“Sirs,” he said between gulps of air, “you need to see something.”

—

The truck was parked in front of the capitol. Four soldiers were standing guard. Peter unlatched the tailgate and drew the canvas aside. Military crates filled the space, packed to the ceiling. Two of the soldiers extricated a crate from the first row and lowered it to the ground.

“I haven’t seen one of these in years,” Apgar said.

The crates had come from Dunk’s bunker. Inside, vacuum-sealed in plastic strips, lay ammunition: .223, 5.56, 9mm, .45 ACP.

Apgar broke the seal on a round, held it up to the light, and whistled admiringly. “This is the good stuff. Original Army.” He rose and turned to one of the soldiers. “Corporal, how many rounds do you have in your sidearm?”

“One and one, sir.”

“Give it here.”

The soldier handed it over. Apgar dropped the magazine, cleared the chamber, and topped the magazine off with a fresh cartridge. He racked the slide and held out the gun to Peter. “You want the honors?”

“Be my guest.”

Apgar aimed the pistol at a square of earth ten feet away and pulled the trigger. There was a satisfying boom as dirt leapt up.

“Let’s see what else we’ve got,” Peter said.

They removed a second crate. This one contained a dozen M16s with extra thirty-round magazines, similarly sealed, looking fresh as the day they were made.

“Did anybody see the driver?” Peter asked.

Nobody had; the truck had simply appeared.

“So why would Dunk be sending us this?” Apgar asked. “Unless you brokered some kind of deal you didn’t tell me about.”

Peter shrugged. “I didn’t.”

“Then how do you explain it?”

Peter couldn’t.

* * *

36

She crossed into Texas on old Highway 20. The morning of the forty-third day; Alicia had traveled half the breadth of a continent. The going had been slow at the start—cutting her way through the detritus of the coast, working inland across the rocky folds of the Appalachians, then the way had loosened and she’d begun to make good time. The days grew warmer, the trees burst into flower, springtime spread over the land. Whole days passed in heavy rain; then the sun exploded over the earth. Unbelievable nights, wide and starlit, the moon rolling through its cycle as she rode.

But now they stopped to rest. In the shade of a gas station awning Alicia lay on the ground while Soldier grazed nearby. Just a few hours and they’d press on. Her bones grew heavy; she felt herself plummeting into sleep. Throughout her journey, this had been the pattern. Days of wakefulness, her mind so alert it was almost painful, then she’d fall like a bird shot from the sky.

She dreamed of a city. Not New York; it was no city she had ever seen or known. The vision was majestic. In the darkness, it floated like an isle of light. Mighty ramparts surrounded it, protecting it from all danger. From within came noises of life: voices, laughter, music, the delighted shrieks of children at play. The sounds fell upon her like a shimmering rain. How Alicia longed to be among the inhabitants of that happy city! She made her way toward it and walked its perimeter, searching for a way in. There seemed to be none, but then she found a door. It was tiny, fit for a child. She knelt and turned the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. She became aware that the voices had faded. Above her, the city wall soared into blackness. Let me in! She began to pound the door with her fists; panic was consuming her. Somebody, please! I’m all alone out here! Still the door refused her. Her cries became howls, and then she saw: there was no door. The wall was perfectly smooth. Don’t leave me! On the far side, the city had fallen silent: the people, the children, all gone. She pounded till she could pound no more and collapsed to the ground, sobbing into her hands. Why did you leave me, why did you leave me…