Dawn crept in cold and gray. Emily's eyes burned from staying awake, but Sophie was still curled under a dusty blanket, breathing softly. Cole shook her shoulder. "Up. We're moving." The truck rumbled back onto the highway, heading north. The air smelled faintly of smoke and gasoline, and the farther they drove, the more they saw—burned-out cars, hastily spray-painted warnings on overpasses, and the occasional shape moving far off in the fields. After about an hour, the road narrowed. Concrete barriers funneled traffic into a single lane, and beyond them, a line of soldiers stood with rifles at the ready. Their Humvees were parked across the road, blocking passage except for a small opening.
Emily's stomach knotted. As they approached, a soldier in dusty camouflage raised his hand for them to stop. His voice was muffled behind a scarf.
"Step out of the vehicle. All of you." Cole's jaw tightened, but he nodded. Emily slid out with Sophie's hand in hers. The soldiers' eyes scanned them like they were threats—not people. One soldier, younger than Cole and probably not much older than Emily, stepped forward with a clipboard.
"Any bites? Scratches?" "No," Cole answered flatly. The soldier's gaze lingered on Sophie, then Emily's bat. "Safe zone's full. Head north another twenty miles. They're setting up another camp." Emily glanced at the barricades behind them. Through a small gap, she saw people—families—pressed against a chain-link fence inside the "safe zone." Their faces were pale, their eyes sunken. It didn't look safe at all. Cole must've seen the same thing, because he got back in the truck without another word. They drove away under the watch of rifle barrels. Sophie leaned closer to Emily. "Why didn't we stay there?" Emily hesitated. "Because sometimes… safe doesn't mean good. The hum of the truck filled the silence, but Emily couldn't shake the image of those people behind the fence. It looked too much like a trap.