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what if his voice sounded so rich and gentle she wanted to look up at him? She wasn’t about to open her eyes just because he spoke to her. Even though what she really wanted to do was
get up
and away. Far away from here, from him, from them.
    So Jade feigned sleep, opening her eyes just a bare slit that he wouldn’t be able to see in the dim light. He knelt next to her, giving a better view of his face thanks to the low trail of moonlight filtering through the ivy-covered windows and small light in the corner. She still didn’t see any sign of a glow beneath his shirt.
    Maybe he wasn’t a Stranger. And surely if he was a bounty hunter, he’d have said something about a reward or whatever by now.
    Bracing herself to remain still and relaxed when he touched her, she was surprised when, moments later, he rose quietly without doing so. Through slits in her eyes, she saw his broad shoulders and easy movements in the dim light as he went over to check on the teens. Low murmurs reached her ears, including a soft, sleepy chuckle from one of the kids, and then silence.
    Safe in the darkness, she watched through fully open eyes as Dread extinguished the small light and settled on the floor near the low window. He leaned to the side, against the wall, arms folded over his middle, and turned to stare out into the darkness.
    Weariness slumped his shoulders, outlined by the faint gray at the window. The moon shone full and round, but the darkest part of night had passed. It would be only a matter of hours before the sun began to color the sky, and Jade knew she needed to go soon if she wanted the cover of shadows. She could move quickly and silently—it was the teens she was worried about.
    She’d sneak out of the building alone, first, and find a safe place for them to hide, then maybe she could make some sort of distraction that would draw the men out. She could then double back somehow and get Geoff and the others to sneak out. . . . It could work. But first she had to get out herself and look around.
    Just as she was about to rise from her makeshift pallet on the floor, she heard voices and a soft rhythmic squeak from below. Dread rose from his relaxed stance, and moments later, a head appeared from the dark opening in the floor. The other two men had returned.
    She’d lost her chance.
    June 8 (?)
    Two days After
.
    I don’t even know for sure what day it is to date this journal entry, but I have to write something down. Figure I better leave something in case I die too.
    Unbelievable. The smoke and dust. The fires. The aftershocks. Horrible storms with lightning, hail, tornadoes, wind, for hours and hours and hours. Days maybe. Is this the Big One we’ve been warned about? Why is the weather going haywire too?
    It’s been too dark to know how many days have really passed, but I think it’s been two. Two days since all hell broke loose, so that makes it June 8.
    I don’t know whether to stay in and maybe get squashed by a building or go outside and get swept or washed away, so have been staying inside. Figure if the building didn’t go during the quakes, it won’t go now.
    Hope so.
    The only sound is the wind and the roar of fires. And the occasional crash of a building.
    Can’t find Theo, but sense that he’s still alive. What a miracle that would be.
    Can’t find anyone else alive.
    Cell phone won’t work. Been trying laptop, but no Internet. Battery is almost dead.
    No sound of rescue teams. No airplanes, helicopters. Nothing.
    Where is everyone?
    —from the journal of Lou Waxnicki

Chapter 3
    Elliott turned from his contemplation of the moon—and the nauseating possibility that he could be a walking time bomb of illness and injury—when he heard the rope ladder begin to creak softly. Quent and Wyatt had returned.
    Once they’d figured out that
gangas
couldn’t climb any way but by stairs—either they were too dumb, or not coordinated enough—Elliott and Fence had woven a durable, lengthy rope ladder.