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anything.
 
For example, here’s one that annoys me. The question is, Which of the following do you consider best describes you? The choices (we’re only allowed to pick one) are: A. Broad technical knowledge, B. Focused technical knowledge, C. Non-technical. I mean, come on. There’s a whole range of possibilities between B and C. And then there are follow-ups, very specific questions, like if you answered A, please answer questions 14-19, if you answered B, please answer questions 20-27, and if you answered C, continue on to question 28. The specific questions are clearly meant to zero in on the exact nature of the test taker’s knowledge.
 
There are more questions like that, all focusing on tangible skills like engineering and science and medicine. I get it. The world’s a different place now, and people with those kinds of abilities are going to be in high demand, but the rest of us are still useful. My writing skills are useful, for God’s sake. Someone has to record what’s going on, don’t they?
 
Be right back.
 
Okay, this is not good. I heard some raised voices outside and went to check what was going on. It seems another five people were just put in with us. Noah and two other guys tried to block the gate so they couldn’t get in. The shouting I heard was them yelling at the guards that until we got some more beds, the UN needed to find some other place for the survivors.
 
What happened next took us all by surprise. While the new survivors were held back, seven guards moved into our holding area and knocked Noah and the other two men to the ground. And by knocked to the ground, I mean they smacked the butts of their rifles into the men. The guy who hit Noah knocked him on the side of the head. Noah wasn’t exactly unconscious but he was dazed for sure, and there was blood all over his face.
 
I was too far away to do anything, but a few of those closer rushed over to try to help him up. Before they could reach him, though, the guard flipped his rifle around and pointed it at them, telling them to get back.
 
The guards then picked up the three men and carried them out the gate. I’m assuming they’re taking them to get medical attention but I’m worried that they aren’t. Needless to say, the new survivors were ushered in before the gates were closed again.
 
I can’t lie and say no part of me wishes I had stayed back in Madison. I guess I could write everything off as tension created by the pandemic. I mean, how can anyone be expected to act normal?
 
But as much as I’d like not to believe it, something feels wrong. Very, very wrong.
     
    CAMBRIA, CALIFORNIA
    11:10 AM PST
     
    N OREEN DROVE HER motorcycle slowly down Moonstone Beach Drive, looking into the motel parking lots that lined the right side of the road. To her left, she could hear the waves crashing on the beach just below the short bluff.
    Noreen, Riley, and Craig had been searching for Martina for three days now. When their friend had sped off in pursuit of the red Jeep, Noreen, the closest one to Martina at the time, had immediately followed. For over an hour, she was able to keep Martina in view, but ten miles north of Paso Robles, her bike began to sputter as it used up the last of her gas. Rolling to a stop, she had watched her best friend disappear around a bend a half mile south.
    When Riley and Craig showed up ten minutes later, she sent Craig after Martina while she and Riley refueled Noreen’s bike. They found Craig on the bridge just north of Santa Maria waiting for them. He had never even caught a glimpse of Martina and wasn’t sure she had come that way. They had continued south, though, thinking that staying on the 101 made the most sense.
    When they reached Santa Barbara, they finally stopped. Any farther south and they would be encroaching on Los Angeles, where there would be a near infinite amount of routes Martina could have taken, and an equal amount of odds against them finding her. They decided their