Sawyer looked up at the dark-gray storm clouds gathering in the sky above and tried not to smile. For the first time in months, it appeared certain that rain was inevitable, and more than anything the boy did not want to jinx the prospect. Despite his supply of purification tablets, the dry summer and autumn had made it difficult to collect much water at all, and he was growing anxious for a fresh supply. Thankfully, by early evening a light rain began to fall, and the boy stood in the courtyard of the school with a wide smile, letting the cool rain soak him to the skin.

He fell asleep that night to the sound of raindrops on the roof, and the next morning he awoke to find that he had collected nearly twenty-five gallons of rainwater. The water inside the barrels was tainted with dirt, pollen, and crow droppings from the roof, and although it was not yet drinkable, the boy was ecstatic nonetheless. As advertised, the Aquatabs worked quickly, and by midday he had filtered and purified every single drop, and for the first time in almost two years, the boy sat down and drank his fill of cool, clean water.

The storm broke the following day, and although Sawyer was happy for the rain, it was obvious that the school’s roof was leaking badly. Sawyer was not sure how to go about fixing the leaks, but he had not been on the roof for more than a few minutes before he looked up and noticed something unexpected in the distance. He stared for a long time at the horizon before his jaw slowly fell open, and he quietly whispered to himself.

“It can’t be. Can it?”

The boy had to be sure, and he climbed off the roof only to return with the binoculars minutes later. This time, he looked through the glasses for only a few seconds before he pulled them away. Sawyer shook his head in astonishment. There was no longer any question in his mind. The single plume of gray smoke that he saw rising up from somewhere in the city below was real, not some figment of his imagination, and he tried to contain his excitement. The boy had been yearning for any sign of another living human being for much too long, and finally he had something tangible to go on.

He wasted no time gathering his gear, and, with the shotgun in hand, he began walking out of the foothills in the direction of the smoke. The journey took him the better part of the day, and by the time he reached flat land there was no longer any sign of the smoke. It was curious, but Sawyer still had a general idea of where the smoke had come from, and he kept moving in that direction, crossing over the freeway and heading toward the downtown area of what was once a quiet suburb.

It had been many months since he had last visited the area, and Sawyer was surprised at the changes he now saw. There was no other way to put it. Nature was taking over. The blackened frames of the burned-down shops and restaurants were now strangled green with vines, native plants reclaiming the land like an inevitable tide. Sawyer tried not to think about how easy it had been for nature to sweep humankind aside and start over, and instead he focused on looking for the source of the smoke. He spent the next hour searching without any luck, and in frustration he kicked at the ground and tugged at the bill of his cap.

“No signs of fire. No smoke. No footprints. Nothing at all. What the hell?”

Feeling frustrated, Sawyer backtracked and stood at the top of the street, unsure of which direction to go, when the wind suddenly shifted, and the boy took a deep breath. His eyes suddenly grew big. He spun around and tilted his nose to the sky, inhaling deeply a second time. It was faint, but the smell of smoke was now unmistakable, and the boy smiled brightly and whispered to himself.

“Jackpot.”

He chased the faint smell of the smoke as he left downtown and headed north, at least now certain that he was moving in the right direction. With each step he took, the scent seemed to grow stronger, and suddenly he knew exactly where he was headed. There was only one major structure in the area that had not only survived the fires but also stood for hundreds of years, and he wondered why he had not thought of it before.

The boy had only to walk for another few minutes before he saw it, and once he arrived he could not help but stop and stare. Rising above him, the old Spanish Mission sat alone among the charred remnants of other, more modern buildings, and the tall adobe structure reminded the boy of a monolithic headstone in a long-abandoned graveyard. In every direction, he was reminded that nature had reclaimed her throne; tangled bougainvillea vines swarmed over the crumbling outer walls of the church, late-blooming wild poppies burst like tiny suns at his feet, and coastal sage and jimson weed grew in scattered patches through cracks in the pavement.

He advanced toward the Mission slowly, his eyes drawn to the belfry standing some three stories above. Like the surrounding walls, the belfry was filled with crows, and Sawyer curled his mouth into a frown. The boy had grown up hearing stories of how the swallows would return to nest at this very Mission each spring, but he could see with his own eyes that this was no longer true. The swallows’ once celebrated perches were now claimed by hundreds of rapacious crows, and the pleasing call of the swallow had been replaced by a cacophony of shrill-toned cries and caws.

To Sawyer, the presence of the crows was like a dark stain on the otherwise beautiful landscape, and he gritted his teeth as the image of his mother’s body flashed through his mind, her eyes missing, her face pecked clean, bloodstained beaks screeching above her. He could feel his pulse rising, and he took a calming breath. He knew that he needed to remain focused, and he held no illusions about what he might discover on the other side of the wall. Even if he did find the source of the smoke inside, the odds were that whoever was responsible would likely prove to be a threat, but at this point, even a new enemy would be better than no contact at all.

Sawyer approached the main gate with the hope of gaining easy entry, but he saw immediately that it had been barricaded with heavy timbers. There were gaps in the boards, but they were narrow and awkward, and it seemed impossible that the boy’s wide shoulders would fit through. He was rubbing his chin and thinking about walking around to the other side when out of nowhere the wall in front of him suddenly exploded in a cloud of brick and plaster, the sound of the single gunshot reaching his ears at nearly the same moment.

Acting on instinct alone, Sawyer immediately threw himself to the ground and buried his face in the dirt just as another shot came smashing into the wall only inches above his head. Plaster rained down on him as he hugged the ground and tried to think. The main entrance was close, but he doubted that he would be able to squeeze through fast enough. The corner of the wall was farther, at least fifty feet away, but he saw no other option, and he kept his head below the grass and started to crawl forward. Almost immediately, another shot buried itself in the earth only a foot short of his position, and the boy froze.

The shooter was obviously no expert, but as a fourth shot whizzed above his head, the boy knew that he had to move, and he had to do it fast. He released the straps on his pack and let it roll off him. It contained nearly everything that he needed to stay alive, but he told himself he would come back for it, and the boy took a deep breath and let the adrenaline hit him full force.

Almost instantaneously, every muscle in his body felt like it had just been doused in rocket fuel, and the boy opened his eyes and counted down from three.

“Three, two, one. Go.”

At the word “go,” the boy sprang from the ground and sprinted for the corner, his head down, his legs pumping at full speed. He did not think about being shot. He did not think about the shooter. His only focus was on making it to cover. He bobbed just once and stayed low as he made the turn and kept running, vaguely aware that a final shot had hit the corner of the wall only a split second behind him. Within seconds, he came to a section along the top of the east wall that was missing several rows of bricks. Seeing the opportunity, he quickly pulled himself up and over the wall.

Sawyer dropped into the compound and scanned the courtyard ahead of him, the Mossberg back in his hands almost before he hit the ground. He was not surprised to see the remains of a large fire smoldering in one corner of the compound, and with no obvious threats in front of him, he dashed across the courtyard toward the west wall. He had not seen exactly where the shots had come from, but he had a good idea, and he moved quickly as he scaled the wall and dropped back out onto the sidewalk. He sprinted across the street and past the main entrance, sliding to a stop behind the charred frame of a burned-out sedan.

There were only a few spots where the shooter could have possibly been hiding, and Sawyer focused his eyes on a cluster of dead palms and heavy brush no more than sixty yards away. There was ample cover to his right in the form of some dense, low-lying bushes, and he slipped away from the vehicle quietly, the thought of swift and lethal retribution not far from his mind. He took a wide arc as he came in from the west, his looping run leading to the edge of a small, overgrown park. He waited for only a second before he quickly moved through the park, and where there was no trail to follow, he made his own, pushing forward through the brush with clear purpose of mind.

He emerged from the park and stopped for a few seconds in the rear parking area of what was once a burger joint. Unlike many of the adjacent structures, the building had only been half destroyed in the fires, and the familiar red-and-yellow sign was still standing, the logo left twisted and warped by the flames. The crows scattered as Sawyer entered through a scorched doorframe on the west side of the restaurant and weaved through the melted tables and chairs, tiny particles of dust kicking up around his boots. From the front window, he had a clear line of sight to the cluster of dead palm trees and brush, and he crouched down and began to watch. His body was still buzzing with adrenaline, and he whispered in anticipation.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

A moment ticked by, and almost as if they had heard his words, the boy was stunned when two figures suddenly emerged from the brush and came running directly toward his position. He could see right away that one of the runners was clearly carrying a rifle, the other a pistol, and Sawyer pulled the shotgun up to his chest and let a dark smile cross his face. He flipped the safety off and did the math. He had six double-zero shells in the shotgun, two targets coming right at him, and no plans to ask any questions.

He stepped away from the window, and he was about to move into position to engage the targets when something in their movements suddenly made him hesitate. Although their faces were obscured by hoods, the two runners coming at him did not move like men, and Sawyer squinted his eyes and shook his head.

“What the hell? Are those—kids?”

There was no time for him to think about it. The runners came to the edge of the street directly in front of him, and Sawyer pushed through the front door of the restaurant, the shotgun leveled straight at them. The two runners came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the road, and he walked toward them, his voice unnecessarily loud.

“Put your weapons down slowly and back away! Do it slowly. Do it now!”

They hesitated for a moment, but Sawyer took a step closer and growled.

“I said now!”

Without argument, they set the weapons on the ground and stepped back, their hands raised. Sawyer could feel the adrenaline pumping through him, and he tried to stay calm.

“Don’t move. Just stay right where you are.”

Sawyer looked around expectantly.

“Who else is here with you? Where are they?”

There was no answer. Sawyer swung his head left and right, quickly scanning for signs of the ambush that must be coming.

“Look, I know you two can’t be alone. Who else is here with you?”

There was silence for only a moment before a soft face emerged from beneath the hood, the voice feminine but confident.

“You don’t have to shout at us. We’re not deaf. And it’s just the two of us. There is nobody else.”

Sawyer stepped back and almost dropped the shotgun. His heart was pounding in his chest. He stammered.

“Uh, you’re—um, you’re a girl?”

She looked up at him with dark, almond-shaped eyes, her small mouth curled into a frown as she replied sarcastically.

“Good guess, smart guy. Nothing gets by you, does it?”

Sawyer did not know what to say, and for a few seconds he just stared at her. She was barely five feet tall, but he could see that she was close to his age, and not only that, she was strikingly beautiful. Sawyer suddenly felt strangely disoriented as he tried to speak.

“You are, uh, out here all alone? That, um, doesn’t seem, um, possible.”

She gave him a look and mimicked his voice.

“Why, um, not? Because I’m a girl? Who are you to say what’s, um, possible or not?”

For another moment, Sawyer had no idea what to say, but as he looked over at the frightened boy standing next to her, he knew that something was off.

“Look, if you just tell me the truth, this will work out better for everyone. I promise.”

At the word “promise,” the girl took off her hood and slowly brushed her long, dark hair from her face. She looked up at Sawyer.

“OK. The truth is that there are three of us. My father is sick. I think he might be dying.”

The genuine worry in her voice seemed impossible to feign, and Sawyer lowered the shotgun a few inches and stepped closer.

“Your father is sick? Where is he?”

“He’s nearby.”

The girl could not help but glance in the direction of the Mission. Sawyer took notice.

“I saw a column of smoke this morning. I know it came from inside the Mission. Did you start that fire?”

The girl looked over at the boy.

“Well, yes and no. It was an accident.”

Sawyer rubbed at his chin.

“An accident, is that right? Sure it wasn’t a trap?”

The girl scoffed at him.

“A trap? What, to catch you? Don’t flatter yourself.”

Sawyer was not sure that he heard her correctly.

“Wait, what? Look, first, I want to know is why you tried to kill me.”

“I didn’t try to kill you. Those were warning shots. And besides, we thought you were coming to kill us. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To kill us?”

Sawyer was confused.

“Kill you? Look, you tried to kill me! I only came here because I saw the smoke this morning. I didn’t know what to expect, but I sure as hell didn’t come here to kill some girl and her kid brother.”

The girl looked over at the boy again.

“Well, I didn’t try to kill you either. And he’s not my brother.”

She looked up and stared into Sawyer’s eyes. Sawyer looked away. He was not sure what to say or do, and he asked the only question he could think of at the moment.

“Fine. I believe you. So, what are your names?”

The girl frowned.

“Why do you want to know our names? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Look, it’s not a big deal, I was just wondering.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“Well, wonder about something else, smart guy.”

Sawyer could see that he was losing control of the conversation. He was not thinking straight.

“Never mind. Forget that I even asked. Just come with me. We need to get out of the street. I have some other questions I want to ask you, and I don’t have time for this back-and-forth right now.”

She cocked her head and smirked up at him.

“You don’t have time? That’s a joke, right? What, are you going to be late to the prom or something?”

Sawyer felt his face turn red, and he took a step toward the girl and pointed his finger straight at her face.

“You’re both coming with me right now, and then you’re going to answer every question that I have, do you understand?”

The girl’s eyes narrowed even more. No one moved. Sawyer was losing his cool.

“Look, we need to get out of the middle of the street right now! Come with me, now. We are going into the restaurant.”

The girl scowled and stepped in front of the boy.

“Yeah, right. Do I look like an idiot? We’re not going anywhere with you. Just pretend to be a man and murder us right here, if that’s what you’re going to do.”

Sawyer had reached his limit, and he shoved the shotgun in her face.

“Oh yeah, is that what you want me to do? You really want me to blow your goddamn head off right here, right now? You wouldn’t be the first girl I killed.”

He held the shotgun steady and waited for another sarcastic reply, but this time it did not come. He looked down at her and saw that the girl’s bottom lip was quivering, her eyes misting up with tears. Sawyer looked over at the boy, whose face was pale and stricken with fear. Sawyer lowered the shotgun and shook his head.

“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it. Just don’t cry. I promise I don’t want to hurt you. I haven’t seen anyone in months, and I just want to ask you some questions, that’s it. We just need to get out of the street first. Come on. I will carry the guns for you.”

The girl wiped her eyes and nodded. Her voice was barely a whisper.

“OK. Thanks.”

Sawyer bent down to pick up the two weapons, and just as he reached out to the ground, the girl’s arm snapped forward like a whip, the razor-sharp knife she had somehow concealed in her hand slicing through the front of his sweatshirt from navel to neck. The girl stepped to her left and slashed at him again, but he was just as quick, and he smashed the knife from her hand and landed a heavy, backhanded blow across the side of her head. She crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll, and Sawyer kicked the knife away. He felt his chest to make sure the wound was not serious and saw only a faint line of blood on his palm. He looked over at the boy and swung the shotgun straight at him.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t move a muscle.”

The boy looked as if he were going to pass out. Sawyer aimed the shotgun away from him.

“Do you have a weapon? Another gun? A knife? Throw it away if you do.”

The boy nodded and tossed a knife into the grass behind him. One of his eyelids was twitching uncontrollably. Sawyer realized that he did not want to scare the kid any more than he already had.

“It’s all right. I’m not going to hurt you. Just don’t move until I tell you, understand?”

The boy nodded again. His eyelid stopped twitching. Sawyer wiped away the blood on his palm and pointed down at the boy, whose large blue eyes were as wide as the sky, his thin fingers clasped white at his chest.

“Just come with me. Any games and you won’t like how it turns out. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

The boy nodded.

“Good. Let’s go.”

Sawyer stuffed the girl’s pistol in his waistband and threw the rifle over his shoulder. He quickly checked the girl for any other weapons before he helped her to her feet and shoved her toward the restaurant. The boy followed, and Sawyer motioned for them both to sit down on the floor. He ejected the single round from the rifle and put it in his pocket. He looked down at the girl. She looked dazed. The side of her face was swollen, and there was a trace of blood in the corner of her mouth. He pulled a rag out of his pocket and tossed it over to the girl.

“You’re bleeding.”

She picked up the rag and threw it back at him. She pointed to his chest.

“So are you.”

Sawyer looked down and inspected the rip in his sweatshirt, running his hand along his chest once again. It was no deeper than a scratch, but he had been careless, that was for sure. He could only marvel at how quickly she had moved and how lucky he had been to escape serious injury.

“It’s just a scratch. I think I’ll be all right. Thanks for your concern.”

He looked up to find that she was staring straight at him, her dark brown eyes burning with a cold hatred. She flashed a fake smile.

“Oh, you’re so welcome. Hopefully I will get another chance to show you just how concerned I am about you.”

Sawyer ignored her taunt and began asking questions.

“Where did you come from? How did you get here?”

They both stared up at him like he was speaking a foreign language. Sawyer tugged at the bill of the baseball cap and asked again.

“Where are you from? How did you find this place?”

Again, he was met with silence.

“Never mind. Look, you’re obviously hungry. If you answer my questions, I have some food I can give you. It’s in my backpack. I dropped it over by the entrance to the Mission. You might remember that was when you were trying to kill me a short time ago?”

The girl rolled her eyes. Sawyer continued.

“I’m serious. You can have everything I brought with me. I have enough to share. We can go and get it right now, if you want?”

The boy appeared to be in his own world as he rocked backed and forth, and the girl seemed to be relishing the opportunity to be difficult. Sawyer was getting nowhere, and he shouted in frustration.

“Can one of you please answer me! I’m offering you several days’ worth of good food for answering a few questions! Do you want it or not?”

The girl remained silent, but her eyes betrayed the intense emotions festering just below the surface, and Sawyer instinctively took a step back. He knew right then that she was not going to answer a single question that she did not want to, and he looked toward the door.

“Fine. You don’t want my help, and you don’t want to answer my questions, that’s all right with me. But if I were you, I’d get my sick dad and get the hell out of here as soon as you can. If anyone heard those shots, they’ll be here before long.”

He turned and began to walk away, but as he reached the back door he suddenly stopped, something inexplicably drawing him back. He spun around and walked back within a few feet of the girl, returning her penetrating stare as he spoke.

“I’ll only say this once, so listen to me closely, all right? I’m not here to hurt you. I saw the smoke this morning, and I came down to check it out. That’s it. I don’t want anything that you have, but I’m taking both of your guns whether you like it or not. I can’t have some psychotic girl trying to shoot me in the back when I walk away from here.”

The girl snorted. Her voice was cold and condescending.

“Psychotic? Really? Now you’ve reduced yourself to name calling? So very mature. And again, for the last time, I was not trying to kill you. I missed those shots on purpose. If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you already.”

Sawyer opened his mouth, but she did not give him a chance to interject.

“And also, thanks so much for planning to leave us unarmed out here. Real heroic of you. Since we are calling each other names, I think from now on I will just call you ‘Hero.’ How’s that sound? Huh, Hero?”

Sawyer just shook his head.

“Call me whatever you want, but the fact is that the sound of those gunshots you fired will have traveled a long, long way. And like I said, anyone who heard them and anyone who saw that smoke this morning will be coming along real soon, do you understand what I’m saying? And my guess is that whoever they are, they won’t be quite as easygoing as I am. So, you can take my advice or leave it, but it’s not safe to stay here, especially not for some smartass girl, her supposedly sick father, and a scared kid.”

The girl looked like she was about to explode, and he turned away from her, his eyes settling on the figure of the boy. He had stopped rocking, and he was now staring straight at Sawyer. There was something in his pale blue eyes that was unnerving, and Sawyer looked back at the girl and shook his head. He figured he would get the last word in, at the very least.

“And by the way, I’m not leaving you unarmed. Your little knife you slashed me with is still out in the street. If I were you, I would go get it, and then I would get your ass out of here as fast as possible.”

He turned his back to her and started to walk out of the rear of the restaurant. He was just about to step through the door when he heard her say something, her voice suddenly quiet and soft. He could not help but take the bait, and he looked back over his shoulder. He did his best to sound annoyed.

“What was that? Can you speak up? I couldn’t hear you.”

The girl swallowed hard and cleared her throat. She looked straight into his eyes.

“Earlier, you asked me what my name was. I just thought that it was only fair if I told you before you left.”

Sawyer tried to tell himself that he did not care what her name was. She was out of her mind. He wanted to walk away, but he felt as if he were not in control of his own body. He could feel his lips moving. He could hear his own voice speaking.

“Well, what is it?”

The girl tucked her long, brown hair behind one ear and tilted her head to the side.

“Sara. My name is Sara. And this is Mason. It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

She smiled, and time froze. Sawyer stared at the girl named Sara for several seconds without saying a word, his head spinning. He could not deny it. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life. But it did not matter; it was too late. He had already made his decision. He was leaving. He looked over at the boy and then back to Sara. He reminded himself that she had tried to kill him. Not once, but twice. He touched the bill of his baseball hat and nodded over to the girl.

“My name is Sawyer. And I can’t say that it was nice to meet you, Sara, but take care of that kid, and best of luck. Believe me, you’re going to need it.”