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anything in the vicinity of Interstate 10 was a target. It was just too major a corridor. Even 210 would be dangerous. I wouldn’t be surprised to encounter armed groups on those roads, if not roadblocks... or both.
    “One minute out.”
    I turned to check Dupree’s pack, making sure all the pockets were closed and snapped and that it was secure. Then I turned so he could do the same for me. I tightened my AN\PVS-7 night vision goggles over my reversed baseball cap. Like enclosed goggles, the NVDs allowed both eyes to stare into a chamber in which a single telescoped lens gathered light so that I could see in the dark. The universe was green through the NVDs, and I watched as the ground came up to meet us. The helicopter sat down, the door slid open, and Dupree and I leaped out. We ran to the woodline as the helicopter rose and spun back the way it had come. When we reached the trees, we knelt, breathing heavily, searching for any hostile force who might have witnessed our infil.
    “You good?”
    Dupree was heaving beside me. “Could afford to lose a few pounds. Not in Marine shape anymore.”
    “Well, it’s all downhill from here.” It was literally true; Mount Baldy was about ten thousand feet above sea level and we were going to drop 8800 feet in the space of nine miles as we traveled south down the mountain to the city of Upland.
    After we were certain that we hadn’t been seen, we began the trek, hugging the edge of Mount Baldy Road. I kept my head on a swivel as we made the descent. I caught sight of several deer, as well as a startled coyote, but so far no humans. We were fifteen minutes into the journey when we turned a corner and the whole of Los Angeles was laid out before us. I halted, unable to move as I stared at a city that had once been a blaze of lights rolling all the way to the ocean. Now great swathes of darkness curled through intermittent lights. The largest area of light was a cluster in Covina which could only be the location of God’s New Army. To the west lay a wall of darkness, which I knew had to be the 605. Not a single light flickered beyond the demarcation line the Cray called home. I hoped I’d get to see one. I hoped I’d get to kill one. Killing something might just fill the hole expanding in my chest.
    We heard the sound of an engine. The hillside met the road to the left and to the right was a copse of trees.
    I bailed off the road to the right.
    Dupree took the left, absolutely the wrong way. Unable to get up the escarpment, he lay down in the ditch and hugged the ground. A motorcycle rumbled around the curve, lights off. The bike looked and sounded like a 650. The rider wore night vision goggles like mine. He geared down, then stopped about ten feet past our position.
    I raised my rifle and put my sights center mass.
    He turned the engine off, then pulled a pistol from a holster on his chest.
    There was no doubt now that he’d seen Dupree. But had he seen me? I considered taking him out with my rifle, but I didn’t know if there was anyone following him. I was also aware that the shot could be heard from a long distance. I made a decision and laid down my rifle.
    His steps crunched on the gravel at the edge of the road as he strode over to where Dupree lay ignobly in the ditch. The man stopped and raised his pistol.
    “Get up or I’ll shoot you dead.”
    I pulled my knife from its sheath and crept across the road.
    He cocked the trigger.
    “I said get up.”
    I didn’t wait. I brought the knife around and sunk it into the man’s ear. He grunted, then fell to the ground.
    “Get up, Dupree.”
    He peeked from where his hands covered his head, then climbed unsteadily to his feet. I dragged the man across the road and into the trees. Then I got his bike and rolled it in the trees as well. All the while Dupree stood in the ditch, frozen. I grabbed him and walked him across the road.
    When we were deep in the trees, I turned to him. His face was pale and slack in the green