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slapped it away.
    “ Don’t you touch me!” Lori’s eyes were full of hatred and torment.
    “ She only did what had to be done,” Elijah commented. “You knew this was coming.”
    Helena, tortured by her own guilt at enjoying what she had done, tried to block out Lori’s sobs. Her gaze drifted to the rotters outside the window who were trying to chase them as the Outback sped along the freeway. These people had saved her from Mark but she didn’t know who they were. Not really. The four of them needed to get along and she hoped her action to save Jacob hadn’t destroyed the chance of a real friendship with Lori in the days that lay ahead. They might be the only two women left alive on the whole planet. Helena shivered. She could still hear Mark’s voice in her ears whispering, “Call me Daddy,” as he pumped away between her thighs. The sicko took her virginity. She was glad he was dead. Michael appeared to be a decent and good man though. She could understand Lori’s pain but as Elijah said, she’d done the right thing, the thing that had to be done. Was it her fault that she had been the only one who could do it?
    Jacob was having about as much success comforting Lori as she had. Finally, he gave up and turned to her, shaking his head. “It wasn’t your fault.”
    “ I know,” Helena admitted, touching his cheek softy with her fingertips. “It’s not yours either.”
    They drove on in silence, leaving the city behind them.
     
    PART II
    Road Trip
     
    As the sun rose above the fields of green, Thomas walked the perimeter of the farm. The grass was wet with dew, sparkling in the early light. Another time, he might have found it all to be beautiful, but not today. A rotter was caught on the electric fence that ran the length of his property. Smoke rose from its twitching form as its burning flesh popped and crackled.. The air stank of decay and cooking meat. Taking care to make sure he was grounded, Thomas used a long stick to peel the dead man’s fingers from the fence. The corpse’s brain was fried. Once free, the rotter collapsed on the other side of the fence and lay still. The TV said the cities were gone and the president dead before its screen became a forever dance of black and white snow, the voices of the news reporters replaced with static. Other than their stink, Thomas didn’t mind the rotters so much. Here in the middle of nowhere, their numbers were too few to be a real threat unless you got stupid and careless. Thomas almost pitied the creatures. He had known cows smarter than most of these things were. He finished his walk, heading up the hill to his house. The screen door on the front porch was flopping in the gentle morning breeze as he walked up the steps. Thomas stomped the mud from his boots and let himself in. Duke and Hunter met him. He squatted, scratching each of their heads in turn.
    “ Bet you buys are hungry, huh? Tell you what. I’ll fry us up some eggs here in a second, okay?”
    Thomas stood, propping his rifle against the kitchen table. The farms always yielded more than he needed to make it. Even before the rotters came, Thomas seldom headed into town. The only two things he was really going to miss when his supplies ran out were cigarettes and coffee. He supposed he could live without the cigarettes if he changed over to smoking a pipe and started growing more tobacco as part of his crop. He always kept a small patch in the garden. It was something his father always did and he carried on the tradition without ever honestly knowing why he did it. It wouldn’t be hard to expand. The coffee though . . . that was irreplaceable. Tea just didn’t cut it as a substitute. Maybe he was a Yankee, he could deal with tea, but he was a good old southern boy and proud of it. Yep, aside from the coffee issue, he pretty well had it made. So far, the power was even still on. He didn’t expect that to last though, but it was nice for the moment. He took a half dozen eggs, a bottle