Neither Sara nor Jacob had slept for more than a few fitful hours before they woke at daybreak, once again ignoring each other as they pulled back onto the main highway and began to drive. They had been traveling now for several days, and though they had covered a good distance, Jacob was beginning to get nervous as the low fuel light lit up on the dash. He had expected to find fuel in at least one of the hundreds of abandoned vehicles that lined the freeways, but for the last fifty miles they had stopped beside each derelict automobile, and just like Sara had warned him, one after another the tanks came up dry. As the vehicle began to sputter, she picked her head up from the single roadmap they had brought along and looked over at the fuel gauge.

“Awesome. Almost out of gas and still miles away from the nearest town. What a great plan you’ve put together. I can’t wait to start walking.”

Jacob ignored her sarcasm as they used up their last few drops of fuel to coast into the outskirts of a small resort town not far from the ocean. Once they stopped, he took the keys from the ignition, looked over at Sara, and scowled.

“Just grab your gear and keep your smartass comments to yourself, Sara. There has got to be gas somewhere in this town.”

They put on their packs and walked the last few miles into town, Sara carrying an empty five-gallon plastic gas can and Jacob carrying a loaded .38 caliber Smith and Wesson revolver. Sara was not exactly sure how or when Jacob had come across the weapon, but she knew that the six bullets in the gun were all that they had. They kept off the main roads and out of sight as much as possible, passing ransacked homes and vehicles as they made their way downtown. Jacob checked each car for gas, but it was always the same—fuel tanks sucked dry, windows shattered into spider webs, tires and wheels flat or missing.

Every mile they traveled south the number of crows seemed to multiply, and Sara found herself hating the black-feathered birds as they eyed her from every angle. Still, the girl was an expert at ignoring things that she did not like, and she refused to pay the crows any attention as they walked into town. Most of the homes and businesses had been looted and burned to the ground, and finding no fuel before nightfall, they slept in the bed of a random pickup and woke early the next morning to begin searching again. Just before midday, they finally came upon a detached garage that appeared to have escaped the fires, and Jacob peered through the window and looked over at Sara.

“We may actually have something here.”

Jacob used a hammer to break the window and opened the door. A 1969 Ford Mustang sat in the center of the garage. It was in perfect, restored condition, and Jacob opened the door and searched inside. There was no sign of any key, but Jacob opened the hatch to the fuel tank and stuck his nose inside the hole, the unmistakable scent of gasoline burning in his nostrils. He gave Sara a smug look.

“I was right. We do have something here.”

Trying to contain his excitement, he quickly went to work. He grabbed the rubber tubing he had brought and slid it into the tank. He put his mouth on the other end and sucked in hard. Within a few seconds, the gas was flowing steadily through the tube and into the five-gallon container in Sara’s hands. Jacob grinned at her, but the smile on his face slowly began to fade as the precious liquid quickly began to reach the top of the container. He had not expected more than a few gallons in the tank, and he began to look around the garage, panic written on his face. The gas was nearly spilling out of the top of the container when he turned and yelled at Sara.

“Don’t just stand there, Sara! Go find something, quick!”

Sara had no idea what to do, and she just stood there.

“What? Where should I look?”

Jacob was frantic. He screamed at Sara.

“Just go find a container, any container! Hurry up!”

Sara began to search the garage for anything they could use, but after a few seconds she knew that it was now too late. She watched without a word as her father fumbled to stop the flow of gas out of the tank, the rubber tubing slipping from his hands, his pants and the ground below soaked with gas. By the time Jacob pulled the tube free, it was too late, and the last several gallons of fuel had spilled onto the cement below his feet. Sara stepped back from her father as he threw the rubber tube across the garage, the gasoline dripping from his pants, the vein on his forehead purple and distended. She looked down at the full container of fuel and smiled weakly.

“At least we got the five gallons. That’s better than nothing, right?”

Her father looked at the wasted pool of spilled gas at his feet and shook his head in disgust, his nostrils flaring wide as he turned and screamed at her.

“Five gallons won’t get us anywhere!”

Sara had had enough, and she screamed right back into her father’s face.

“You’re the one who spilled the gas; you’re the one who’s not getting us anywhere!”

Sara turned and stormed out of the garage before he could answer, but she had only taken a few steps outside when he grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. Sara pushed him away and looked up with hatred burning in her eyes.

“Just leave me alone! I hate you!”

Jacob was not moved by her outburst and screamed back at her.

“You hate me? What a surprise. You are so much like your mother it makes me sick.”

Sara’s eyes narrowed at the mention of her mother, and Jacob knew he had made a mistake. He tried to backtrack, but Sara stopped him before he could speak, her reply delivered with unbridled spite.

“That’s right, I am just like my mother, and if I could have one wish, it would be that I’m nothing like you, Jacob.”

She had never called her father by his first name before, and she could see that the disrespect hit him like a punch in the face. Jacob’s voice cracked as he tried to control himself.

“So now I am ‘Jacob’ to you—is that what you think, Sara? Well, you can think again, because I am your father, and you will show me respect. Am I clear? Do you understand me, Sara? I don’t want to hear another damn—”

Sara was confused as Jacob abruptly stopped speaking mid-sentence, his eyes suddenly growing wide. Slowly, he moved his hand to the gun in his belt and whispered quietly in her direction.

“Shhh. Walk slowly toward me, Sara. We need to get out of here right now.”

“I don’t understand. What’s wrong?”

Jacob pressed a finger over his lips and whispered a single word.

“Dogs.”

Sara could hear the fear in her father’s voice, and she turned to see a huge, reddish-brown dog staring at her from across the street, a distinct ridge of bristling hair running along its back. Two brindle-coated pit bulls were standing behind the first dog, their thick noses tilted up to the wind. For a moment, Sara thought that she must be hallucinating. They had not seen a single living, warm-blooded animal in as long as she could remember, but here they now were, looking at three very large, very alive dogs. The girl’s instincts told her to turn and run, but she had barely taken a step backward when the two pits came running straight for them. In an instant, the two dogs were halfway across the street, their massive jaws clicking in anticipation as they closed the distance with astonishing speed. Jacob yelled something unintelligible as he grabbed Sara’s hand and pulled her into the garage, barely closing the door behind them as the two dogs hurled their bodies against the wood.

The air inside the garage was heavy with the smell of the spilled gasoline, and Sara could hardly breathe as she inhaled a deep breath of fumes. She could see that the dogs were already beginning to tear through the wooden door, and Sara began to think. There was one small window above the workbench on the opposite side of the garage, and Sara grabbed a hammer from the nearby tool rack and threw it straight through the window, the glass shattering just as the first dog thrust its jaws through a crack in the door. Jacob pointed the revolver straight at the dog’s head, but Sara grabbed him by the arm before he could pull the trigger.

“No! Don’t do it. This garage is full of gas fumes, and we need to save the bullets. I have an idea. Please trust me. We have to get out through the window, right now. Go!”

Jacob did not understand what she planned to do, but he was very aware that the six .38 caliber bullets resting inside the cylinder were all that they had, and he shoved the revolver in his belt and climbed onto the workbench. Sara pointed to the window.

“You have to go through first! I’ll be right behind you. There’s no time to argue, just go!”

The first dog was already halfway through the door, and Jacob pulled himself up and dropped out of the window, the air knocked clean out of him as he hit the ground hard. Despite the pain, he scrambled to his feet as fast as he could, surprised that Sara was not right behind him. He stood up and yelled into the broken window.

“Sara! What are you doing? Get the hell out of there!”

Sara heard him yelling, but there was no time to respond, and she reached into her backpack and turned to face the two dogs on her own, a cigarette lighter in one hand, her journal in the other. She had assumed that the workbench she stood upon was high enough to be safe, but the two dogs were mad with bloodlust, and they flung themselves at her like wild beasts, their jaws snapping closed only inches from her legs. Sara knew the dogs would soon find a way to get to her, and there was no more time to hesitate. Knowing she had nothing else to burn, she hung one leg out of the window, touched the lighter to the edge of her journal, and boldly tossed the book over the dogs’ heads as the pages caught fire.

Even before the flaming journal hit the ground, the fumes from the spilled gasoline instantly ignited, and a massive fireball suddenly erupted inside the garage. The force of the explosion blew Sara clean out of the window, the flames singeing her hair and clothes as she came tumbling to the ground at Jacob’s feet. He bent down and put out the small flames that were smoldering on her pants leg.

“Sara! Are you all right?”

For a moment, Jacob sounded almost like a concerned father, and Sara sat up with a half-smile, the smell of burnt dog hair and gasoline heavy in the air. She cleared her throat and spoke.

“Don’t worry. I’m OK. Thanks for trying to catch me.”

Jacob leaned over and gave her a small hug. His voice was a bit shaky.

“I am not sure that I did anything at all, but you are welcome anyway.”

Sara stood up and looked back at the garage. Thick black smoke was now billowing from the window, a few small flames coming from the roof.

“Do you think they’re dead? The dogs, I mean.”

As if he suddenly realized what she had just done, Jacob looked down at his daughter and scowled, his voice now stern and unforgiving.

“Yes, I think they must be dead, Sara, but that was a dangerous stunt you pulled in there, and you are very fortunate that you were not killed along with them. Next time you need to follow my lead, not the other way around, do you understand? I could have just shot them and been done with it.”

Sara faked a laugh.

“Ha! What a great idea. Let’s start wasting our only bullets the first chance we get.”

Jacob was about to start yelling at the girl when Sara suddenly took a step back and stood perfectly still. She whispered as softly as she could.

“Never mind. I was wrong. You can go ahead and use the bullets now. The other dog is right behind you.”

Jacob slowly turned around. No more than twenty feet away stood the massive ridgeback, its black lips curled into a vicious snarl. The animal stood as tall as Sara’s hip and outweighed her by a good margin, and she instinctively slipped behind her father, squeezing his arm as the canine took a step closer. The dog made a deep guttural growl that sent shivers down the girl’s back, and she yelled in her father’s ear.

“What are you waiting for? Shoot it! Shoot it now!”

Jacob slowly raised the revolver toward the dog. To his surprise, at the sight of the gun the animal suddenly sprang out of the line of fire and backed away from them, circling around to their left before coming to a bristling stop. Sara was dumbfounded.

“Did you see that? Do it again. Point the gun at it again.”

Jacob took a step forward and once again leveled the gun in the direction of the dog. Just like before, the ridgeback leapt to the side, baring its long canines as it backed up, eyes locked on the weapon in Jacob’s hand. The man was astonished, and he muttered under his breath.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Smart dog. No wonder it’s still alive.”

There was no longer any doubt in their minds that the dog understood exactly what the weapon could do, and Jacob decided that he was done playing games. He took a step toward the dog and cocked the hammer.

This time the dog knew to retreat just out of the revolver’s range, daring Jacob to take a shot before it finally sauntered off and disappeared out of view. Jacob looked down at his daughter and shoved the gun into his belt, his voice sounding tired.

“Come on, Sara. Let’s get the hell out of here before it comes back.”

He turned and took a step to leave, but Sara did not move an inch. The girl was suddenly smiling, and he looked over at her and shook his head.

“What now, Sara? Why are you smiling?”

Sara took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she spoke.

“I was just thinking that if those dogs could stay alive for this long, if they could somehow survive the virus and everything else that happened, that means there might be other survivors out there, too. Not just us.”

Jacob sighed.

“We haven’t seen a single sign of another living human being since we left home, Sara. I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

The girl twisted her mouth to one side.

“But don’t you think it’s possible that we aren’t the only ones who survived? Isn’t the whole idea, the whole reason we left home, to find other people? Don’t you wonder if anyone else is out there?”

Jacob shook his head and started to walk toward the Rover, his eyes focused somewhere in the distance.

“No, Sara, I don’t, and there is no point in wondering about something we will probably never know.”

Sara just shook her head at him and frowned.

“I’m sorry, but that is where you are wrong again. The whole idea is to wonder, to someday know what’s out there. Otherwise, what’s the point of even surviving in the first place?”