The armored SUV followed the cleared road toward Grefort's southwestern outskirts.
Green grass had started pushing through the broken ground again, and insects moved through the roadside growth as if the apocalypse had nothing to do with them.
Birds had returned too, gliding above the road and dropping whenever something below caught their attention.
Hans watched through the window, mildly surprised by how quickly ordinary life had started filling the quiet places again.
The animals are coming back, he thought.
A cicada clung to a blade of grass while a mantis crept behind it, forelegs raised and waiting.
Hans followed the little hunt for several seconds.
A shadow crossed them. A bird dropped from above before either insect could react.
The mantis disappeared first and the cicada followed. The bird climbed back into the air with both.
Hans stared after it.
The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind it.
