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choice.”
    “Not my choice,” he said. “Remember, I’m the newbie. I know nothing about this city. As your boyfriend likes to say, I’m Tourist Boy.”
    Aries frowned. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
    “Then why do you keep crawling out the window to meet with him late at night?”
    He was glad to see the shocked look on her face. She hadn’t realized he’d seen her the past few nights. She must have thought she was being secretive, and it probably worked for some of the others. But not for Mason. It takes a sneak to recognize a sneak. He’d been doing a lot of his own midnight walkabouts. It was impossible for him to getmore than a few hours of sleep each night. He wasn’t used to sharing a house with so many other people, and when he did drift off, something always brought him back. There were too many memories being pulled to the surface when he dreamed, too many nightmares. Once the tossing and turning got to be too much, he’d sneak outside and go for a walk. He never went too far, just a few blocks. Enough space to give him room to breathe. Sometimes he’d hang out in the garden while watching the moon drag itself across the sky. He felt safer there. A guardian angel. He could watch over everyone while they closed their eyes and became utterly dependent on him.
    Every single night he managed to talk himself out of leaving. Or was it the other way around? How many times could he convince himself to stay?
    There were a lot of them now. A new family. So many people he felt responsible for saving. He didn’t want this again. He’d failed too many times. Too many people died as a result.
    When he finally did sleep, he still dreamed of her.
    Chickadee.
    I want you to promise me something.
    He’d stuck to that promise after they’d met on the road as fellow survivors—at least for a while. So why was he still here? He didn’t owe her anything. It’s not like she asked him to go and find new people to take care of. He’d come and he’d felt the ocean and in a way it had made him feel better. But he was still empty. And she was still gone. So were the others. Coming to Vancouver hadn’t changed anything. Reaching into his pocket, he closed his fingers around the small glass vial he now carried at all times. A bottle filled with sand. A little token he’d taken the morning he’d kept his promise to Chickadee and given his legs a good soaking in the oceanwater. It comforted him. His good luck charm, not that he believed in such things.
    “Let’s go up to Forty-ninth,” Aries finally said. “Take a left there and then we head down a few miles.”
    “You’re the boss,” he said.
    From somewhere not far enough away, a recorded voice filled the air.
    “WARNING. WARNING. THE CITY IS CLOSED. NO ONE IS ALLOWED IN OR OUT. THERE ARE GUARDS POSTED. TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT. DO NOT TRY TO LEAVE THE CITY. DO NOT STAY IN YOUR HOMES. IT IS NO LONGER SAFE. SURVIVORS ARE INSTRUCTED TO GO TO THE PLAZA OF NATIONS IN THE DOWNTOWN CORE. THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO CAN HELP YOU.
    “WARNING. WARNING. THE CITY IS CLOSED . . .”
    The recording started in on its second loop.
    The Baggers were more organized these days.
    Scary.
    Mason grabbed his helmet. “Time to go. Come on or they’ll see us this time.”
    Aries wrapped her arms tightly around his waist as he started the bike.
    The recordings were coming from white vans with tinted windows. There were several of them touring the streets. It was almost as if the Baggers had gone in and cleaned out the entire inventory at Budget van rentals. No one knew who was driving, but they had a good enough idea.
    And the Baggers were looking for them.
    Not just them. Any survivors in general.
    He didn’t want to imagine what they might do if they caught Aries and him taking this particular joyride.
    Mason didn’t know if the recordings were true. He hadn’ttried to leave the city. But he didn’t doubt for a second that the Baggers would try to kill anyone who didn’t take the