Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The door to the gun store was solid metal with a set of bars over the top of it. The windows were darkly tinted and menacing, covered with bars as well, and placed high on the walls. Justin couldn't simply bash his way inside this one. He reached into his pocket and took out a kit of tiny tools. "Hold these for me."

Carly held out her hands, cupping the little tool kit of tiny, pick-like instruments. "What is this?"

"Lock-picking kit." Justin knelt down in front of the door. He inserted one of the tools into the keyhole and jiggled it before selecting another one and inserting it above the first.

"Where did you learn how to pick locks?" Carly asked, both impressed and a little horrified.

"Gymboree."

She giggled, and he turned to grin at her before selecting a different tool.

Within moments, the lock clicked, and he pushed the door open with caution. "Stay out here for a minute," Justin said, and she certainly wasn't going to argue. He slipped inside, and she saw his flashlight beam bounce around through the window beside the door.

"Come on in."

Carly pushed her cart to the side and parked it next to Justin's. She and Sam walked inside in a pool of light from her flashlight. She flashed it around the room and gave an impressed hum to see almost all of the stock intact. The store was overcrowded with merchandise. Racks of hunting clothing took up most of the floor space. Carly wove her way between them to the back where Justin was selecting guns from the wall behind the counter.

"Yeah, I know. No looting."

"This shop is—was— owned by John Drake. Knowing him, he probably sat outside the door with a loaded shotgun and dared people to try it."

"Have you ever fired a gun, Carly?"

"My dad took me to the shooting range once."

"Just once?" Justin seemed surprised. "I would have thought... Well, never mind. Do you remember how it's done?"

"Just point and pull the trigger." Carly shuffled her feet. He seemed to be indicating he wanted her to have a gun, and she was a little uncomfortable with the idea. Why did he want her to have it, anyway? So he'd be more comfortable with leaving her behind when he moved on?

"It's a tad more complicated, but that's a good start, at least." Justin smashed the butt of his flashlight into the top of a glass case containing pistols and plucked one off the velvet liner. "Hold this one and tell me how it feels."

Carly took it. She rotated her wrist and looked down at it. "It feels like a gun."

"Silly girl, hold it like you're going to shoot it."

She slipped her finger through the trigger guard and gripped the butt with her palm. "It's awkward. It makes my hand hurt to stretch that much."

"Try this one." Justin handed her a smaller gun, and this one fit into her hand perfectly.

"It's a twenty-two, so it's not going to have a lot of power or range, but it will work well on close targets." Justin hopped over the counter and began to fill one of the store's shopping bags with small boxes of ammunition. "Give me your tote. We need to take as much of this as we can."

"What kind?"

"Any of it. If it won't work in our guns, it will be excellent for trading."

"You keep talking about trading. With whom?"

"We're sure to meet other people on the road."

What road?And then she remembered what he had said about leaving. Going to... Where was it? Florida, or something like that? And then she realized he'd said we as though he assumed she would be going along. She felt her temper flare but another idea occurred to her. She forgot about her anger as her eyes widened and her heart sped up. "Do you think there are places where the Infection didn't reach? Places that are still normal?"

Justin stopped taking boxes from the shelf and turned to her, his dark eyes full of sorrow. "No, Carly. There aren't any places that weren't hit by the Infection. I had contacts in other countries, all around the world. No place was left unscathed. There isn't any ‘normal' anymore."

Carly blinked hard, trying to force back her tears. She didn't want to accept it. She didn't want to believe it. But she couldn't hide from the truth any longer. She saw the gun lying on the counter, and for just a moment, she considered—

Justin put his hand over it and said her name, his voice low and soft. Carly shook her head and turned back to the ammunition, raking boxes into her tote bag.

He selected a few more guns, placing them inside a long tote case he found in the accessories section. Carly winced a little when she saw some of those evil-looking rifles. She was relatively uncomfortable with a handgun. She hoped he didn't expect her to use one of those black machine guns.

Justin selected a folding crossbow and took all of the arrows in stock.

"What's that for?"

"It's silent."

Carly didn't want to think about scenarios where that would be important. She helped him load the guns and ammo into their carts without comment.

They walked back across the bridge. Carly kept her eyes glued to the sidewalk this time and didn't look up until they reached the other side. She trudged behind Justin, leaning on her cart handle as she went.

"Go on upstairs," Justin said when they reached the apartment building. "I'll carry this stuff up."

"I'll help."

Justin shuffled through the bags and handed her several of the light ones, and then he tied the handles of two bags together and laid them over Sam's back, who seemed very proud to be carrying part of the load. Carly trudged up the stairs and unlocked her door. Sam bolted inside and went straight to his water bowl, lapping eagerly.

Carly smacked her forehead. "Oh, Sam, I'm sorry! I should have thought to take along some water for you."

"What's wrong?" Justin asked, a huge mass of shopping bags dangling from each hand.

"He was thirsty!" Carly pulled another bottle of water from the case on her counter and poured it into his bowl. Sam wagged his tail and gave her hand a lick of thanks.

"Carly, it's okay. He was fine."

"I'm so inconsiderate!" Maybe it was the combined stress of the day, or maybe she hadn't cried out all of her tears on the bridge. Whatever it was, Carly felt like she was an inch or so away from collapsing into a blubbering mess.

"Stop," Justin said, and his voice was so calm and firm, she felt a little foolish. Her embarrassment actually helped to get herself under control. She didn't want Justin to think she was a flake. "Don't beat yourself up over this. He was fine. Now, come here and help me put some of this stuff away. I don't know where you put things, but I imagine there's some alphabetizing involved."

Carly flushed a little, but she was able to give him a small smile. "It makes things easier to find."

"I'm sure it does. I'm more of a shove-things-around-and-swear-until-you-find-it kind of guy." He started opening bags and placing the items on the counter. Carly smiled at him, though his back was to her and he couldn't see it. She appreciated his attempts to lighten the situation with humor. A few days ago, she never would have imagined the scary-looking Biker Guy could be so kind.

She tried for a joke of her own. "It's not your fault. You're a man, and you didn't evolve to be able to find things."

"Okay, I've gotta hear the explanation for this." Justin crossed his arms and leaned back against the refrigerator while Carly put away the canned food. He smiled at her in encouragement.

"It's simple, really. Our brains developed in different ways because of the different tasks we had. Men just had to run around, find something to bash over the head, and drag back to camp as food, while women had to remember where the berry bushes and fruit trees were. So, we women ended up with a better visual memory, and you guys ended up standing in front of the refrigerator, yelling, ‘Honey, where's the ketchup?'"

"That is an interesting theory." Justin chuckled and scratched his chin. "Another theory is we don't want to waste time looking for stuff, so we yell to ask you where it is since you're the one who probably put it away."

Carly closed the cupboard doors as she tried to smother a grin. "You'd rather be thought of as lazy, than accept women have superior brains?"

"Ah, but we men are better at bashing things."

"Conceded." Carly went over to the line of bags along the wall that contained the drugs and guns—an awful-sounding combination. "Where do you want to put this stuff?"

"Do you have a spare bedroom?"

"Yeah, it's down the hall, second door to the right." Justin hauled it all into the bedroom, except for the bag he brought back with the explanation that it contained her girl stuff. Carly snatched it from him with a bit of a blush and took it into the bathroom. There, she stared with longing at the toilet. She really had to pee, but what could she do?

She opened the door. "Um, Justin, could you come here for a moment?"

He stepped up to the door. "Yes?"

"There's no way to make my toilet work." Carly bit her lip. "Any suggestions?"

"Since I suppose using a bucket is out of the question, I'll walk down to the creek and get a few buckets of water you can use for flushing."

Carly beamed at him. "Thank you! Hey, where have you—" She stopped. "Never mind."

Justin laughed as he headed out the apartment door.

Carly thought about it while he was gone and came to a decision as he came through the door, carrying two large pails of water.

"Justin?"

"Yeah?" He put both buckets in the bathroom and took off the lid of her toilet tank.

"I was thinking you could stay in the spare room if you wanted. You don't have to sleep out in the hall."

He nodded. "Thanks, Carly. I'll do that." His smile told her he understood what a big step she was taking toward trusting him by allowing him to stay in her home.

Carly shuffled her feet for a moment and then headed back into the kitchen. She was a little nervous about it, truth be told. No man had ever stayed in her apartment with her, and she still wasn't certain she could trust him. But he'd been good to her, kind to Sam, and helpful in ways she didn't fully comprehend yet. She was thinking about her situation with a clearer mind since they'd talked about it.

Carly opened two cans of pork and beans and poured them into bowls. A cold dinner, but at least they'd have something. If it had been left up to Carly, she would probably be staring with dull helplessness into her empty cabinets, wondering what to do next. She owed a lot to Justin already.

"What's for dinner, honey?" Justin asked with a grin.

"Pork ‘n' beans. Eat it while it's cold."

He chuckled. "If you'd prefer, I could go outside and start a fire, and we can heat it up and eat hot food like civilized people."

"Too much effort." Carly shoveled in her first bite.

"Have you given any more thought to your situation here, Carly?"

She set the bowl down on the counter, no longer hungry. "I have. I think you're right. I don't have what I need here to survive. And as much as I hate it, I think I'll have to leave. I don't know if I want to go to Florida, but I have to find a better place to live than my apartment. Maybe a house with a fireplace or something."

"Do you know how difficult it is to keep a house warm using only a wood fireplace or stove?"

"No, not really." Carly admitted it with a bit of reluctance. "I know there are lots of people who do it, so it can't be too bad, right?"

Justin shook his head. "For one person? Chopping all that wood?"

"Chopping. What do you mean? Like, cutting down trees?" She had been leaning more toward finding wood to burn. There was a hardware store on the other side of town that sold lumber but she'd still have to cut that up, wouldn't she?

He chuckled, and Carly felt a flare of anger. "Look, I'm sorry I don't know this stuff. I may look stupid to you, but I—"

"Wait, Carly, no, I don't think you're stupid." His humor vanished the instant he realized she'd been stung by his comment, and his voice gentled. "You just don't have an inkling of what it takes; most people wouldn't if they had no experience with it. But, you need to understand we're talking about life and death here. You could freeze to death if you didn't know what to do, or if you weren't able to get enough wood split to keep you warm over winter. Even with chainsaws and log-splitters, it's a lot of work. That's why I suggested a warmer climate. It would be better for you in the long run."

"I've never been out of Alaska," Carly said. She wasn't sure she could explain to him how awful a prospect it was to leave everything behind, to give up on the idea the world might return to normal if she just waited there instead of abandoning her hope and home.

"I've never been to Florida." Justin took a large bite of his cold pork and beans and chewed with relish. "Here's the thing." He pulled a paper towel off the roll beside the sink and used it as a napkin. "We need to leave soon. It's going to be a very long journey, and I don't think we'll manage to make it all the way to Florida, or even south of the Mason-Dixon for that matter, before the winter sets in. So we have to hurry and get as far as possible in the time we have left."

Carly hesitated before asking, since she knew it was another dumb question, but she had to know. "If we can't take a car or a motorcycle, what are we going to do?"

"Ride bicycles. Walk."

"Justin, you're talking four thousand miles here." The idea of moving into a house across town had been daunting enough, let alone the idea of traveling across most of North America.

"I know. It took me about one hundred and thirty days to do the entire Appalachian Trail, and I was going a lot faster by myself than I'll likely be able to go with you."

"How many miles did you hike in a day?"

"Most days, about fifteen to twenty, depending on the roughness of the trail. Since you're not an experienced hiker, I'm expecting us to make five to ten, at least at first."

"What about if we ride bicycles?"

"Double it. Maybe twenty miles per day, at first. More, as you get stronger. Some experienced cyclists can do eighty miles in a day."

Carly shook her head. "You're talking about more than half a year, maybe more."

"Do you understand, then, why I want to leave as soon as possible?

"Couldn't we go somewhere else, somewhere closer, like Los Angeles? It's always warm down there."

"But arid. The irrigation systems might not work without electricity and regular maintenance. We need to go somewhere we can grow enough food to sustain ourselves. Florida has an excellent climate for farming. I'm not saying we have to get all the way to Florida. There are other states in the South that would have a good climate for us, but I'm thinking of Florida as my goal. We may be able to use different vehicles during sections of our trip, but that's not a guarantee. The ones we find may have dead batteries, or the fuel could have gone bad. If we encountered a roadblock or traffic jam, we'd have to unload the vehicle and try to find another. Bikes are more reliable."

"Do you actually have this planned out, or is it just an idea you have?"

Justin chuckled. "Once you get to know me, Carly, you'll find I have everything planned out." He went out into the hallway and grabbed one of the bags that contained his gear. He opened up the front pocket and withdrew a map. A route had been highlighted, cutting across Canada and through the US, a bumpy line, but almost perfectly diagonal. She saw the first part of the journey took them north to Haines and then to Skagway. From there, they took the only highway east, through the mountains, into Canada.

"But the ferry isn't running."

"I know how to operate a boat."

"Is there anything you don't know how to do?" she asked, a hint of a sour note in her voice.

"I can't play the piano, and I can't dance."

Carly tilted her head. "Did they teach you all this stuff in the army?"

Justin's eyes were guarded. "Some of it, yes."

She traced her finger over the long line. "What if I refuse to go?"

"I can't leave you here to die, Carly."

Die?She gave him a startled look, but he didn't back off and admit to exaggeration or soften the comment with a shrug or smile. Instead, he looked straight into her eyes, and his steady gaze told her he wasn't trying to scare her or embellish. He saw it as an inevitable consequence if she were left there on her own, not as a possibility.

She looked away, unable to meet his eyes any longer. "Because you knew my dad?"

"No, not just because of the promise I made when I joined The Unit, but because I fancy myself to be a decent fucking human being. One way or another, I'm going to have to convince you, but I hope to hell it doesn't take very long."

"What about Sam?"

"What about him? He's a wolf. They're tough, and they're built to run for hours without tiring."

She was thankful he wasn't going to try to insist she leave him behind.

"Listen to me, Carly, I know you don't know me very well yet, but you'll find I'm a person who keeps my promises. And I promise you I will do my best to keep you safe, warm, and fed. I'm your best shot at survival." He tugged up the sleeve of his T-shirt and showed her the symbol tattooed there, the same symbol that was on her father's ring. "This once meant something. It meant enough that I had it permanently etched into my skin because it's a part of me. It wasn't just a military unit. It was a code of honor. I may be the last man standing, but I swear to Christ I'm not going to let that code die, too."

And gazing into his eyes, Carly believed him. She might have very little experience of the world, but she knew sincerity when she saw it. He truly cared about what happened to her, for whatever reason. Her doubts and fears warred with her instincts, which told her Justin was what he presented himself to be. He was a nice guy with a mischievous sense of humor and a strong sense of honor and duty. Her father had told her to trust no one, but he had also told her about the symbol and what it meant to the men who wore it.

"I'm scared," Carly said. She felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment at the admission, but she felt like he deserved her honesty.

"I am, too. None of this is going to be easy, but I'd put our chances at reaching Florida higher than most."

"That doesn't sound too encouraging."

Justin was quiet for a long moment. "Do you want me to be honest or comforting?"

Carly blinked when tears stung her eyes again. He already thought she was stupid. She didn't want to add whiny to the list. "Just for a little while, can you be optimistic?"

He took her hand in his own. "Sure, honey. I understand."

The first thing Justin wanted to do was find a wagon and a pair of bicycles. Carly directed him to the bicycle shop, which was not far from the bridge, and he returned on a bike, towing a trailer with another bike stowed inside. The wagon was the size of a queen-size bed, with a metal mesh floor and waist-high sides of tubular metal rails. It was surprisingly light when she tried to lift it.

He'd also brought them helmets. Both of them were blue, and she wondered if he'd intentionally selected a matching set or if there weren't many options.

"We don't know the road conditions we'll encounter. We could go around a curve and... well, I don't want to risk a head injury."

Carly tried hers on and found it was a perfect fit. She turned and saw Justin grinning at her.

"What?"

"I've never seen anyone who actually looked cute in one of those before."

Cute. He thought she was cute. Carly blushed and pulled the helmet off.

She helped him load the wagon, and Justin surprised her with how organized he was about it. He stacked the supplies they weren't going to use right away—such as the antibiotics and the ammo that didn't fit their guns—on the bottom.

The night before, Justin sat at the kitchen counter and had taken apart some of the guns. He used a small, metal file on some part inside the scary-looking black rifles. Carly had watched with interest. "What are you doing?"

"Turning them from semi-auto to full auto." Justin handed the reassembled rifle to Carly, who turned to carry it into the spare room.

"Something else you picked up at Gymboree?"

"Yep. You know, you look kinda hot carrying that."

Carly blushed and kept her face turned away from him as she headed for the spare room. Was he teasing her, or was he actually flirting with her? Carly didn't know. She wished men came with an instruction manual.

That morning, Justin had told her she needed to decide what she was taking, but he cautioned her to remember they didn't have much space, and weight was an important consideration. "I know you'd rather leave your things here than have to abandon them alongside the trail."

Carly had ended up taking the string of pearls her father had given her mother for their tenth anniversary and her father's ring—the one with his unit symbol. She tucked the Lord of the Rings DVD into her bag when Justin wasn't looking. She knew she'd probably never be able to watch it again, but it was her last happy memory with her father before everything had gone to hell.

She took just a few changes of clothes, as he had suggested. She chose two pairs of cotton yoga pants and a small selection of short- and long-sleeve T-shirts that could be layered. A handful of sports bras, boy shorts-style underpants and several pairs of socks completed her packing. Justin looked over her selections with approval, suggesting only that she add a pair of jeans and a sweater for cooler weather.

Sam's bag of dog food went into the wagon, along with his soft pallet bed and a few favorite toys. Carly insisted if they had sleeping bags, Sam should have a comfortable place to sleep, too. Justin rigged up a water bowl on the back of the wagon so Sam would always be able to get a drink when he was thirsty. Carly thought that was sweet and considerate of him.

And then it was time to go. Somehow, even with all the preparations and packing, the reality of it hadn't sunk in. She cried herself to sleep the night before, and in the morning she made a slow circuit around her apartment saying good-bye to her things. Her dad had bought her the recliner, joking Carly would never get herself a man unless she had a soft, comfortable recliner for football-watching. Her mom had bought all of Carly's infrequently used pots and pans, proud when her daughter had set out on her own, even if on her own was just two floors above her parents' place. Her grandmother Sally had made the quilt that lay over her bed, which Carly had smoothed into place with gentle hands when she got out of her bed for the last time. Carly knew, without asking, it was too heavy and bulky to take with them, but leaving it behind hurt just the same.

She chose a handful of pictures from her refrigerator door. Her favorite photo of her parents at their anniversary party the year before. Her aunt Laura with her twin sons, laughing when the boys had smeared their birthday cake all over their chubby little cheeks. Grandma Sally, with a group of distant family at one of the reunions they used to have every few years, and a picture of Grandpa Mike in his uniform, before he'd been killed in the Vietnam War.

Carly was leaving behind everything she had ever known. Though they were gone, it was still hard to leave behind the place where her family, her friends, her security...everything had been. It wasn't easy for her, but Justin didn't tease her for her tears, and she was very grateful for that.

Carly locked the door for the last time, and put the key on the long chain around her neck with her father's ring. "I'm never coming back, am I?"

"It's not very likely," Justin said, his eyes full of sympathy.

Carly nodded and took a deep breath before she followed Justin down the stairs. When they reached the ground floor, she went down the hall to her parents' apartment and laid her hand against the door for a moment. She fought back tears as she slipped a note she'd written to them beneath it.

It was a bright and sunny morning. They wheeled their bicycles outside, and Justin hooked his bike to the wagon. Sam bounced around with glee, excited to go on another walk with his humans.

Carly looked back one last time as they mounted the bikes, and then they set off for the short ride to the harbor. Justin had already selected a sailboat, and they found they had to unload the wagon before they could lift it inside. Repacking it took some time, and Carly grew irritable with the process knowing they'd have to do it all over again once they reached their destination.

Sam wasn't sure about riding in a boat and didn't want to jump on board even when Carly called to him and tried to coax him aboard. Justin wound up having to pick him up and plunk him down in the boat beside Carly. She felt Sam tremble a little, so she sat down on the deck beside him after strapping a child-sized life jacket around his torso.

It was nearly one hundred miles to Haines, so Carly opened up one of the paperbacks she'd taken with her as Justin pulled ropes and rigged the sails. She wished she could have brought her e-reader, which had contained thousands of books, but she doubted she'd have been able to charge it. Like her other things, she would rather leave it in her home than have to abandon it later.

Justin glanced down at her. "Whatcha reading?"

"Thomas Pynchon's Mason-Dixon."

Justin whistled. "I could never get into Pynchon. Too dense for me."

"He takes some getting used to," Carly said with a nod, and from there, they launched into a pleasant chat about their favorite books and authors. He confessed a love for Wuthering Heights, and Carly admitted a weakness for Dean Koontz. It was a fun conversation until the thought hit her there wouldn't be any more Dean Koontz novels. No more books, no more movies, no more music. All of it was gone, and she still didn't know why this awful thing had happened.

"Justin, did you ever hear anything from your sources about what caused the Infection?"

"No. As far as I know, no one ever knew. If the government knew anything about it, they weren't talking. I suppose we were just... due."

"What do you mean?"

"Humanity hasn't had a widespread plague since 1918. Before that, before the CDC, we used to have them with relative regularity. The Black Death, yellow fever, smallpox, typhoid, cholera... Things you don't see in developed nations any longer because of our hygiene, inoculations, and the swift response of the CDC and the WHO when outbreaks occurred. But this one was so insidious. The incubation period was so long... People infected hundreds of others before they even knew they were sick. This was no ordinary virus. The lethality rate alone tells me it wasn't something natural."

"What else could it be?"

"Something weaponized." Justin's expression was grim.

"Created in a lab? Someone made this evil thing intentionally?" Carly slumped in her seat, stunned and sickened someone could have done such a thing.

Justin hesitated when he saw her reaction, but he answered truthfully, and for that, she was grateful. "I think so, yes."

"And what, it got loose or something? Someone spilled a test tube of it?"

Justin shook his head. "Paris, London, Beijing, New Delhi, Moscow, Osaka, S?o Paulo... My contacts reported almost simultaneous outbreaks. It was intentionally released in the most populous cities all over the world."

"Terrorists?"

"Perhaps."

"Are we immune?"

"It seems that way. You took care of your parents while they were sick. If you weren't immune, you should have caught it for certain from sustained close contact. But even if we're immune, we could be carriers."

"Like Typhoid Mary?"

Justin nodded. "It's possible. There's no way for us to know for sure at this point."

"Were you around any sick people?"

"I was camping when the Crisis hit. I stayed out in the woods until...until it was over, but if I wasn't immune, I should have caught it as soon as I came into the city. There were still Infected wandering around. And I wouldn't be surprised if the virus lingered in the environment, perhaps in the water supply or even in the air itself."

"I thought viruses died fast if they didn't have a host."

Justin shrugged. "Some do. Others can survive outside a host for days, even weeks, in some cases. If they made a weaponized virus, they'd ensure it was able to survive for long periods outside the body."

"Only two survivors out of over thirty thousand people in Juneau," Carly mused.

"There may have been others. We don't know. They could have hidden from us. Or they could have died after the Crisis was over from accidents, suicide, or health issues. People with medical conditions like diabetes would be unable to get their medicine. Most modern people aren't prepared to survive, and more will die when winter comes."

Carly fell silent. If Justin hadn't found her, she would have been one of them. She would still be sitting in her apartment, numb with shock and grief.

Justin chose not to dock at the pier where the ferry would have docked and Carly saw why as they passed. There were dozens of bodies on the dock, people who had undoubtedly been waiting for the ferry to evacuate, waiting for a boat that never came. The gulls on the bodies took flight as they sailed by, and Carly looked away. Birds, apparently, were immune to the Infection. Nature was not respectful of the dead.

"I haven't seen any dogs or cats," Carly noted. "We used to have a couple of bears that came into town and ate from trash cans. I haven't seen any, and you'd think without the Fish and Wildlife people chasing them off, they'd be scavenging in town."

"From what I've seen, it looks like many mammals weren't immune, though I've seen some rabbits and squirrels. Domestic animals seem to have fared the worst. I'd guess it was because of their close, continual contact with humans. In a way, I suppose it was a mercy since they wouldn't have anyone to take care of them any longer."

Carly thought of dogs and cats trapped inside their houses, of farm animals waiting in their pens and pastures for their owners to take care of them, and she had to agree. At least they didn't have to endure a lingering death from starvation.

Justin docked the boat and Sam jumped out as soon as it came to a halt, as though he were grateful to be back on dry land. Justin lifted Carly out, and then she helped him get the bikes up to the dock. They had to unload the wagon again and then repack it once they had it on the dock. By the end of that process, it was late afternoon, and Justin suggested they stay in town and move on in the morning.

They found a little motel nearby and Justin came back from the office with two room keys. His eyes kept flicking around, watching their surroundings intently. She didn't know what he was looking for, and that concerned her. Sam picked up on his tension and remained alert, his ears swiveling like little satellite dishes, listening for sounds that might indicate danger.

Their rooms were adjoining, something that made Carly feel relieved. Just a few days ago, she'd been terrified of the Biker Guy, and suddenly she was afraid to be without him. Justin carried in their bags while Carly scooped out a bowl of food for Sam and filled his dish with clean water.

Carly went into the bathroom and tried the taps. She squealed with delight when water flowed from them and ran into Justin's room to announce she was taking a shower.

"It'll be cold," he said, warning her.

"I don't care. It'll be such a relief to get all of this grime off me." She'd felt gross for days, since the water in her apartment stopped working, even though she wiped herself down every evening. The shower was icy but felt wonderful, and Carly washed as quickly as possible. She didn't want to use up all the water, not when Justin still had to shower. She dried off, picked up her clothes, and gagged. She knew they were clean, but they reeked. They smelled like death, and she couldn't bring herself to put them on.

She wrapped herself in towels and went back into her room. "Justin?"

"Mm?" He poked his head through the adjoining door and did a double take to find Carly wearing only white towels.

"I can't wear my clothes. They smell awful."

He nodded. "You were used to the smell. You didn't even notice it, but you were in a building with hundreds of dead people."

"Ugh! I can't..."

Justin considered for a moment. "Tell you what, why don't you wash your things out in the bathtub, and I'll go out to that store down the street and see if I can find anything clean for you to wear in the meantime. Okay?"

"Are you sure it's safe?" Carly chewed on her lower lip. She wasn't sure if she wanted to be left alone there.

"I won't be long," he said, and he gave her a reassuring smile. "If you get scared, all you have to do is shout. I should be able to hear you down the block." He went into his room and fished around in his bags until he came up with a T-shirt and shorts for her to wear. A faint odor clung to them, but it was tolerable.

"Give me all of your clothes," Carly said.

Justin playfully grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and whipped it over his head. "Yes, ma'am!"

Carly swatted his shoulder. "Not the stuff you're wearing. The stuff in your bags. It stinks a little, too."

Justin put his T-shirt back on. "Carly, you don't have to wash my clothes. I'll do it myself when I get back."

"I can at least start them soaking. I really don't mind. Maybe some bleach..."

"No, don't use that. We need it for purifying water. I'll get you some vinegar while I'm out."

"You're putting bleach in our drinking water?"

"Just a little. A few drops per gallon. I'll show you when I get back. Which reminds me, don't drink from the taps. Use our bottled water. I'll be right back. Put on the slide locks and don't open the door for anyone."

"I won't."

He laid her small gun on the night stand. "Be careful with this. It's loaded and the safety is off. All you have to do is aim and shoot, okay? Don't hesitate to use it if you have to."

"Are we in danger?" The idea of being alone in the world was terrible, but so was the idea there might be dangerous people lurking around. Like many people, she lived in her own little bubble where crime was something that happened to others. With her dad downstairs and a police officer living down the hall, Carly had always felt safe. But currently there were no police officers, either to protect people or to arrest criminals. They were on their own.

Justin hesitated. "My spidey-sense is tingling. I think there's someone here, watching us. Maybe they're just as afraid as you were when you first saw me, but let's be cautious." He slung one of the rifles over his shoulder and wore it along with his pistol and knife.

"I've changed my mind. Don't go out, Justin."

"I'll be fine, Carly. Don't worry." And with that, he gave her a swift hug and went out the door. Carly flipped the slide lock and engaged the deadbolt. She watched him through the window until he disappeared around a corner, then she sat down on the bed and opened her bag. She took out the Lord of the Rings DVD and traced her finger over the raised lettering on the cover.

She and her dad had watched it during that period when her mom seemed to have just a slight cold. Gloria had gone to bed, but Carly and her dad couldn't sleep.

They had been watching the news all day. She remembered having the same feeling of shock and disbelief watching the Twin Towers fall when she was eleven. She'd been home with the flu that day and watched the whole thing live. This was so much worse, probably because the horror was sustained with new images every day, day after day. There was footage of hospitals so crowded the doctors had only a few inches of space to walk between the Infected—lying on cots, lying on blankets, and lying on the bare floor. There were piles of bodies outside, stacked like logs. Mass graves were dug by bulldozers. There were riots, looting, and cities ablaze with no one left to fight the fires. Roadblocks were put up to try to fight the spread of the disease, but people stubbornly streamed around them. There were not enough National Guard or regular troops left, not enough police. Not enough anything.

Once upon a time, the government might have been able to control the flow of information, but today's media was too widespread, too interactive for that. Thousands of people were filming the Crisis with cell phones, iPads, and cameras, uploading the video to the Internet, and sending it to news organizations. The Internet went down at one point, and people accused the government of sabotaging it, but tech buffs all over the country had an "Undernet" up and running within days. Pirate radio stations informed people how to use it.

Carl heaved himself off the sofa and went into the kitchen. He returned with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He poured an inch or so of the liquor into each and handed one to Carly. She wasn't much of a drinker, and she'd certainly never drunk with her dad, but she took the glass from him and sipped from it until it was empty. Carl refilled it, along with his.

The television showed scenes of looting and senseless destruction. One man stood in the front window of an electronics store hurling televisions to the sidewalk out front, smashing them for the apparent fun of it. He was probably Infected, his mind burned away by the fever, but at the time Carly couldn't understand what she was seeing. There was just a constant barrage of nightmarish images her mind tried to deny. Police officers beaten to death when they tried to hold the crowds back. Refugees streaming from cities, weaving between stalled and wrecked cars. From interviews they gave to reporters, many of the refugees had no idea where they were going. They were compelled by instinct to flee from the specter of Death. Some were following rumors there were places in other parts of the country where the Infection had not spread.

Some communities attempted to isolate themselves. One mayor was lynched after he had tried to seal off his town to prevent the Infection from entering. He was killed by enraged townspeople who wanted to bring their families there, where it was "safe." They didn't understand or accept that bringing others in would destroy that safety.

"Things fall apart, Sugar Bear," Carl said, and his voice held a hollow note she had never heard before. "The center does not hold."

He flipped the channel, and there was a preacher behind a pulpit, his face burning red and his eyes bleary with fever, raving that the president had released the virus to kill Christians. On the next channel, a talk show host was insisting the virus had been released by religious zealots trying to bring on Armageddon. An "analyst" on another channel declared it could only be the work of terrorists, and they needed to start bombing immediately before it was too late.

The president himself was on the next channel pleading for peace and order, and begging people to obey the quarantine orders. He swore the government and the CDC were doing all they could to stop the spread of the Infection and find a cure.

"He's in the bunker," Carl said.

"How can you tell? What bunker?"

"The curtain in the background, see how it's folded at the edge there? The cinder block wall behind it? There's a bunker in a secret location where the top government officials are supposed to be moved in case of emergencies just like this. We used to call it the ‘Bug-Out Bunker.'" Carl refilled their glasses again.

Carly's hand shook so hard she sloshed some of the liquor out of the glass. She set it on the end table before she spilled it all and dropped her face into her hands. Her dad rubbed comforting circles on her back until she managed to get herself under control again.

"Hey, why don't we watch a movie, Sugar Bear?"

"Okay." Carly's voice didn't sound like her own. She liked the idea, liked the thought of being able to escape for just a little while.

"Go put something in. I'll make us some popcorn."

Carly had grabbed the first one off the shelf and put the disc into the player, not knowing what she had chosen until the first scene began. And so they had watched all three Lord of the Rings movies because Carly didn't want to go back to watching the news, and when the movie was over, she'd feel like she had to. She had laid her head on her father's shoulder, and they'd watched the movies as things fell apart all around them. But for a few, precious moments, they escaped reality.

Carly put the DVD back into her pack. Her father had been looking forward to The Hobbit. They'd never get the chance to watch it together, and that thought made her throat tighten. Sam, sensitive as always to her moods, hopped up beside her on the bed and laid his head on her thigh.

A large shadow crossed in front of her window, and Carly gasped. She ducked down behind the bed. The shadow moved away, and she heard something clatter, like metal on concrete. It wasn't Justin. He wouldn't lurk outside, moving back and forth as though he were searching for a good hiding place.

Carly picked up the gun and gritted her teeth. She had never thought she'd be able to kill anyone in cold blood. It just wasn't in her nature. But imagining whoever was out there setting up an ambush for Justin made her willing. Carly crept over to the door, crouched low. Sam joined her, crouching himself, his ears pointed forward like horns, and when that clatter sounded again, he gave a soft growl. She had to stand to flip the latch, but she sank back down. Deep breath. You can do this.

Carly opened the door in a flash and held the gun out with both hands, prepared to take the shot... and found herself staring into the face of a curious horse. Carly was so surprised she lost her balance and fell back onto her ass. The horse lowered its head and snuffled at her. At her side, Sam sniffed back at the horse, and the horse recoiled a bit, its instincts telling it the smell of a wolf meant danger. But it appeared the horse's fear was outweighed by the desire for companionship since it didn't retreat.

Carly stood and the horse turned its massive head to look her over with one of its large, soft brown eyes. She reached out and stroked its nose. "What are you doing here, horse? I thought none of you survived the Infection." She supposed if some people were immune, the same would hold true for animals. And this poor horse must be lonely.

"Are you a girl horse or a boy horse?" Carly peeked beneath it. "Ah! A girl horse." The horse's brown coat was shiny, with white socks on all four legs and a lightning-shaped streak down the center of her face. She wore a red halter which had the word "Cloud" stitched on it. "Is that your name? Cloud? You don't look like a Cloud to me."

The horse pushed forward with the obvious intent of coming inside and making herself comfortable.

"Oh, no you don't. No horses on the bed." Carly took hold of the horse's halter and pulled her out of the room, just in time to see Justin coming across the parking lot.

"What the fuck?" he said succinctly.

"I found a horse!" Carly chirped. "I think I'll name her Shadowfax."

The horse lipped at Carly's fingers. Carly giggled and stroked her neck.

"Carly... you named her?" Justin looked dismayed. "What are you going to do with her?"

"She can come with us." Carly gave Justin no room for argument. Just like Sam, Shadowfax wouldn't survive on her own, and Carly couldn't bear to abandon her to a lonely, miserable fate. "Maybe if we find a saddle, I can ride her instead of the bike."

"Have you ever ridden a horse before?"

"No. But how hard can it be?"

Justin rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"Why not? She can pull the wagon, so you don't have to hook it up to your bike."

"Horses need to be taken care of, Carly. If she's going to follow us on the roads, she'll need shoes or her hooves will split."

Carly looked at the horse's feet. She saw a hint of silver metal below each hoof. "I think she has them."

"Right. But what if she throws a shoe?"

"I don't know, Justin, but we can't just leave her here." Carly crossed her arms and glared at him.

"Aw, Christ..."

She could tell he was wavering and had to suppress a grin. "And horses eat grass, right? She'll find plenty of that along the road."

"I've been around horses, some. Not much, but enough to know they need more than just grass."

"How do wild horses survive, then?"

Justin swore under his breath and turned the wagon around. "I'm going to the goddamn feed store." As he walked away, she heard him mutter, "... Pied Piper of the Apocalypse ..."

Shadowfax stayed in the small grass lot beside the motel all night. Carly got up several times to check on her, peeking through the curtains to make sure she was unharmed. In the morning, Justin slung the bags of feed onto Shadowfax's back and tied them in place.

"She can carry her own food," Justin said in a tone that dared Carly to argue.

"I don't think she minds," Carly responded cheerfully, still secretly gleeful over her victory in keeping the horse.

They climbed onto their bicycles and set off down the road, Shadowfax and Sam following behind them. Shadowfax seemed a little leery of Sam, but Sam seemed to like her, and a couple of times he tried to engage her in chasing games. Shadowfax didn't speak canine, so Sam's play bows and yips didn't mean anything to her. She plodded on behind her new human herd.

It was a lovely day for travel. The sun shone brightly through the trees, and the birds sang as though the world was still the same. In the woods, Carly could pretend it was.

They passed cars stalled on the road, people who had tried to flee for the countryside and had gotten stuck in some sort of traffic jam. At the end of the line of cars, they saw the accident that had caused the traffic jam. It was not much more than a fender bender, but apparently, the people had waited for the police and tow trucks to come as they would have when the world was normal. Carly wasn't the only one who hadn't understood or accepted things had changed. The opposite side of the road was empty, but the cars hadn't tried to take advantage of the clear lane. She wondered why none of them had decided to simply drive down the other side of the road, but she supposed they had obeyed the law up until the very end, just as she had written checks for the things she took from the store.

Carly was very careful not to look inside the cars. Justin, however, stopped on occasion and took something he felt would be useful. He found a rifle, a gallon of water, a case of canned food...

At her look, he said softly, "Carly, they don't need it anymore."

"It still feels wrong."

Their route went along Tanani Bay, and when they reached their destination, there was a pier with a ferry boat sitting idle in the dock. The ferry was large, with an open back that allowed for cars to be driven onto it. Justin loaded the bikes, the wagon, and one reluctant horse, who didn't like the way the vessel shifted beneath her hooves.

"Stay back, Carly. She could kick."

Carly didn't have to be told twice. She tugged Sam away by his collar. Justin tied a rope to her halter and fastened it to a railing on the wall, where Shadowfax wouldn't have to look at the water and realize she was somewhere no horse had any business being.

Justin disappeared to the top deck, and in a few moments, Carly felt the rumbling vibration of the engine starting. "Can you really drive this thing?" she called out when he came down to unfasten the rope moorings.

"Drive, yes. Dock, probably no." He cast her a grin and went back up the stairs. Carly wished she were the praying sort.

"Wouldn't the gas be bad?" she called.

He paused on the stairs. "It's diesel, and the tank isn't as exposed to temperature changes as a car. It may be a little gunky, but not too bad yet."

The trip was shorter than their first boat ride as it was about fifteen miles to Skagway. Justin cut the engine as they approached the dock, and there was a disquieting CRUNCH when the boat made contact. Justin jumped to the dock and wound the ropes around the moorings before it could drift away. "We made it!"

"You sound surprised."

"I actually thought I'd have to run it aground. But it turns out these things are easier to drive than I suspected."

He put down the gangplank and led Shadowfax onto the dock. Shadowfax made for the solid ground and then shook her coat as if she were shaking off the experience. Carly patted her and said soothing things while Justin unloaded the bikes and the wagon.

"Why don't you let her pull the wagon?" she asked as Justin unloaded the horse feed and put it back onto Shadowfax's back.

"Maybe later. We'll stay here in Skagway tonight. It'll probably be your last chance for a shower and a soft hotel bed for a while."

Carly smiled at him, knowing he was anxious to move on, but he was giving her one more night of the comforts of civilization before they continued.

The motel was only about a quarter of a mile from the dock. Carly waited outside while Justin checked the rooms. He said in a nonchalant tone he just wanted to make sure they were clean before she went in, but she knew the real reason was probably to keep her from seeing anything that might disturb her, and she appreciated his consideration.

Carly tossed a tennis ball for Sam while they waited, and Shadowfax munched happily on the flowers in the raised beds in front of the parking lot. Justin came back just as Sam was starting to get tired of the game. He jumped up on the foot of the bed as soon as Justin unlocked the motel room door and settled with a happy sigh. He didn't even get up when Carly put out his food and water bowls, so he must have been tired.

Despite the chilly water, she took a long, luxurious shower while Justin scouted the area and collected a few more supplies. He came back with a Scrabble game, and they played five times because neither one of them was emerging as a clear winner. Carly suspected Justin was cheating, but she couldn't prove it, and he gave her wide-eyed, innocent protests when she made the accusation. When she started yawning, Justin called a truce and said she needed her rest since they had a long day ahead of them in the morning.

"But we'll have a fire and hot food, at least," he said. Neither of them had found their dinner of cold ravioli to be very appetizing.

Justin woke with a start when Sam pressed his cold nose against his shoulder. When he saw he had Justin's attention, Sam let out a low whine and darted over to the door that led into Carly's room. There he pranced a bit and whined again, obviously trying to get Justin to follow him.

Justin rolled out of bed, his eyes automatically searching the shadowed room for danger, though he didn't think there was any threat to Carly's safety, based on Sam's response. The wolf was anxious, not frightened.

He heard Carly moan, and she tossed her head on her pillow, her breath coming in gasps. Justin crouched down beside the bed and shook her gently. Carly woke with a small scream. She swiveled her head, looking around in confusion. Justin turned on the battery-powered lamp, and she relaxed slightly.

Justin sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. "Are you okay, Carly?"

Tears sparkled in the corners of her eyes, and her voice was unsteady. "It's always the same. The same nightmare over and over."

"Can you tell me about it?" Justin considered hugging her, but he wasn't sure how she would take it.

Carly shook her head.

"If you figure out why you're having it, the dreams will stop coming back." Justin walked into the bathroom and brought back a handful of tissues. Carly blew her nose, and Justin had to suppress a smile at the cute little honking sound she made.

"I once had the same problem," Justin said. "I kept having a bad dream about one of our missions. Once I talked it over with someone, I realized it was happening because I felt guilty about something that wasn't really my fault. After that, I never had the dream again. Do you feel guilty about something?"

Carly nodded. She couldn't meet his eyes.

She didn't want to talk about it, something he well understood. He wouldn't pry; she'd tell him when she was ready. "Is it something you could have done differently, or changed?"

She shook her head.

"Then you have to let it go, Carly. If it wasn't your fault, you shouldn't carry a burden of guilt." He patted her hand. "Maybe someday you can tell me about it, and then you'll feel better about it. All right?"

"All right." She gave him a watery smile and lay back down. Sam hopped up beside her and circled around a few times before he plopped down with a contented sigh. Justin headed back to his own bed, but it was a long while before he could fall back asleep.

Carly drifted back to sleep, but it was filled with the images she'd seen on television. Troy Cramer talking until his voice was hoarse, filling them in on the latest developments in the Crisis, and every development was worse than the last. Bodies, always bodies everywhere. Violence and fear as society crumbled to ash.

She woke groggy and grumpy. Sam wasn't in his place at the foot of her bed. Carly called for him and heard nothing but silence. She went to the doorway of Justin's room, but he wasn't in his bed, and when she checked, he wasn't in his bathroom, either.

Going to the window, she breathed a sigh of relief. Justin was sitting by a small fire built in the parking lot. Sam lay by his side and Shadowfax munched on some grass at the edge of the asphalt. As she watched, Justin picked up a metal coffee pot, after wrapping the handle in a cloth, and a plate covered in a napkin. Both animals followed him back to the room, and he had to dissuade Shadowfax from following him inside.

"Morning, Carly."

"Do I smell coffee?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes, and I have another surprise for you." Justin pulled the cloth off the plate like a magician revealing a woman sawed in half. "Ta da!"

Carly could have wept. "Are those eggs?"

He grinned. "Yep. Not fresh, I'm afraid, but pretty good, if I do say so myself."

Carly took a bite and moaned in bliss. "Where did you get them?"

"They're powdered." She noticed Justin wasn't admitting where he'd come by them, and she supposed it was probably better she didn't know. She ate like a starving lumberjack. Justin seemed delighted by her appetite, even though Carly blushed a little when she handed him the empty plate.

"Thank you, Justin. That was the best meal I've had since..." She'd been about to say something about her mother's cooking, but she wasn't ready to talk about that.

"I'm glad you liked it. I'll get us loaded up while you get dressed. Remember, don't use the water for brushing your teeth. Use one of our bottles, okay?"

"Okay."

Carly pulled her hair back into a ponytail and dressed in one of her long-sleeve shirts with a T-shirt over it; it was bound to be cool this morning. She joined Justin outside. Shadowfax loped over to her and butted Carly with her massive head, and Sam did the same, both of them demanding attention at once. Carly giggled and distributed the requested pats, one hand for each animal. She wondered if they were competing with each other for her affection. Well, she wouldn't play favorites.

They mounted their bikes and started out along the Klondike Highway, riding roughly northeast, as Justin had shown her on the map. "How far are we from the next town?" She hadn't checked the scale.

"White Pass is fifteen miles, but it's uphill. I doubt we'll make it there tonight."

Carly thought about what he'd said about experienced bikers being able to make up to eighty miles per day, and she set her jaw in determination. She'd impress him with her stamina, she vowed.

But by lunchtime, Carly was already feeling the strain. Justin offered to start a fire and cook something, but Carly refused. The sooner they could get back on the road, the sooner they could make their destination and she could rest. She swallowed her share of the ravioli Justin gave her and climbed back onto the bike. Carly envied Sam, who trotted at their side with his tongue flopped out of the side of his mouth, enjoying the trip. Behind them, Shadowfax ambled along, comfortable with the pace. She slowed now and then for a nibble at something tasty along the way, but never let them get out of her sight.

"How much further?" Carly asked Justin when she was certain they had to be getting close.

"About six miles or so."

Carly wanted to cry.

"We're going to stop soon," he said and gave her a little encouraging smile.

Carly gritted her teeth. "Not yet."

"Carly, you're wiped out."

"No, I'm not!"

"You're also a terrible liar."

"I want to keep going."

"Carly, come on. You did good for your first day, especially since we're going up an eleven percent grade."

"At this rate, we won't even make it out of Alaska by wintertime."

"We're not always going to be going at this rate," Justin said patiently. "Carly, listen to me. I know what I'm talking about here. You don't want to exhaust yourself. You need to take it slow and easy until you build up your stamina because you've been half-starved for three months. You're not as strong as you once were."

"I can go more, honest!"

"I know you could, but there's no need. Tell me something, are your calf muscles aching?"

Carly didn't answer.

"I'll bet when you used the Stairmaster at the gym, they told you to do it only for a few minutes at first, even though you felt like you could do more. Right?"

"Yeah."

"They didn't want you to tear up your muscles needlessly. Besides, we need to think about Sam, too."

"Sam? What about him?"

"He's not used to walking long distances on asphalt. His paws are probably sore."

Carly hadn't even thought about poor Sam. And Shadowfax, too... she might be sore or tired from walking such a long distance. Carly started wondering if she could get the horse to let her check her feet without being stepped on or kicked from annoyance.

"I'll pick the next good campsite," Justin said, and she wondered why he sounded a little smug about it.

Carly had never slept in a tent before, and she'd certainly had never put one together. But for some reason, Justin insisted Carly help him with the bewildering tangle of nylon and metal tubing. She watched him connect the posts and tried to do the same, but she realized she'd done it opposite the way he had, and she had to take the whole darn thing apart again. But the smile he gave her when she got it assembled made it all worth it, and Carly liked feeling that she had at least something to contribute instead of simply standing around and letting Justin take care of her.

Next, Justin showed her how to build a fire. It turned out to be yet another of one of those things she thought would be easy but was much more complicated in reality.

He started by scraping a patch of earth bare and building a ring of rocks around its perimeter. "You don't want to wake up and find you've started a forest fire," he explained. He then built a small pyramid of twigs, with bits of paper from a McDonald's bag lying beside the road and leaves between them. "You have to start with things that catch fire easily. Start as small as you can. You can use paper if you have it, shredded fiber, bits of cloth, though you want to use natural fibers like cotton or wool."

"Synthetics don't burn as well?"

Justin smiled at Carly. "Right."

He showed her how to pull little shreds from a piece of soft wood to make it easier to light. "Now, what are you going to do if you don't have a cigarette lighter or matches?"

"Rub two sticks together? I saw that movie where the guy is shipwrecked on an island and has to start a fire that way. It took forever, but he finally got it to work."

"Do you remember how he did it?"

"Yeah. He had a flat piece of wood with a groove in the middle, and he rubbed the stick in there."

"Anything else?"

Carly thought for a moment. "He had the fluffy stuff at the top of the groove."

"Tinder," Justin said. He gestured to his little pyramid. "Now, there's something we have the guy in the movie didn't. My knife." Justin took the knife out of its scabbard and pulled something from the end—a little gray rectangle he laid in Carly's hand. "Flint and steel." He pointed to a small rough patch on the blade of his knife up near the handle. "Strike it hard and fast, like you would a match."

She struck the corner of the flint against it and was surprised at how many sparks it produced.

"It's another sort-of-slow method. You have to catch your sparks against very light tinder. Paper won't do it unless you have it shredded very fine. Since I'm feeling sort of lazy tonight, I'm not going to demonstrate the whole process. We'll save that for another night." Out of his pocket he took a Zippo lighter and ran the flame around his little pyramid. Once it was blazing, he slowly added larger pieces of wood until the fire was steady and strong.

"Think you can light it tomorrow?" Justin asked.

"I can try."

"You're a smart lady. I think you'll figure it out."

"Do you really think I'm smart?" she asked, her voice hesitant and soft. "I sometimes feel like a moron because I don't know these things."

"Yes, I think you're smart, Carly. You've just never lived a life where you need to know all of this. Most people would be in the same situation, I assure you." Justin stood and gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm going to scout around a bit. Why don't you relax and read for a while? I'll be back soon, and we'll cook dinner."

"Be careful," Carly said. Having him gone made her nervous because she didn't know what she'd do without him.

He grinned at her. "I always am."

Sam bounded off after him and left Carly and Shadowfax at the campsite. Shadowfax was grazing on the nearby vegetation and didn't even look up as Carly approached. "I'm going to look at your feet, okay, girl?" Shadowfax chewed placidly as Carly crouched down beside her and tugged her foreleg until she lifted her hoof.

It was the first time Carly had ever looked at a horse's foot, so she wasn't exactly sure what she was looking for. The metal horseshoe was attached well; it didn't wiggle when Carly tried to move it. The underside looked smooth and uninjured. Carly walked around to the other side and performed the same examination. In one back hoof, she found a little pebble wedged under the shoe and decided that couldn't be comfortable, so she dug it out with a small stick. She stood and patted Shadowfax's neck. "Thank you for not kicking me."

She settled down to read, leaning against her rolled-up sleeping bag. Justin returned a few minutes later carrying an armload of large sticks. Carly looked around in alarm. "Where's Sam?"

"I thought he was with you."

"No, he followed you." Carly's heart began to pound. If they didn't find him, there was no way Sam could survive out there on his own.

"Carly, don't worry," Justin said, his voice low and soothing. "He wouldn't have gone far, and he can't get lost. He'll follow his own scent trail back. Or he'll find mine and follow me back to camp. He—"

Justin didn't finish the sentence as Sam came bounding through the brush. He stopped in front of Carly and dropped a dead rabbit at her feet.

"Well, I'll be damned. Good boy, Sam!" Justin picked up the rabbit and rubbed a grinning Sam between the ears.

Carly hugged Sam tightly. "Good boy," she said, though she wanted to scold him for taking off like that.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume you've never had rabbit for dinner, right?"

Carly shook her head.

"Then you may not want to watch this next bit. Why don't you walk back to the creek and get us some water?"

"Where is it?"

"About a hundred yards that way." Justin pointed. "You should be able to see the tracks I made in the leaves. But if you get off the trail, just yell. You'll be within earshot."

She found the creek and washed her face and hands before filling the bucket. Sam started lapping at the flowing water. "No! Don't drink that until Justin purifies it." Sam just looked at her with those eerily sentient eyes.

Justin had constructed a spit using two forked sticks with a parallel one across that held the cooking rabbit. It smelled delicious. Carly's stomach growled, and Justin grinned at her. He had raked out some hot cinders upon which a pot simmered.

"Where's the first aid kit?" Carly asked.

"Are you hurt?" He rose quickly to his feet and headed to the wagon.

"No, but you said Sam's paws would be sore. I wanted to put some cream on them."

Justin shook his head for some reason but got out the antibiotic cream. Sam was not happy about having the greasy substance smeared on his paws, but he submitted to it with a sigh.

Justin took the cooked rabbit off the spit and cut it up on their plates before adding a helping of canned corn from the simmering pot. "Bon appétit."

"Merci beaucoup," Carly replied.

"Parlez-vous fran?ais?" He sounded a little surprised.

"I took it for two years in high school. What about you? I know you took Arabic, but do you speak anything else?"

Justin shrugged. "A couple of others."

Hearing that made Carly feel a little better. Apparently Justin was one of those people who made everyone around them look dumb by comparison. Carly speared a piece of rabbit with her fork and popped it in her mouth. Her eyes widened. "This is delicious!"

"You sound surprised," he said. She'd noticed that his eyes crinkled at the corners when he teased and it always made her smile too.

"I know it's one of those stereotypes, but it really does taste like chicken."

"It's the secret ingredient."

"What's that?"

Justin lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned in close. "Salt."

Carly giggled and gave his shoulder a playful swat.

He glanced over at the book she'd left lying open on top of her sleeping bag. "A bilingual girl who reads Pynchon for fun." He shook his head in amusement. "Why didn't you go off to college, Carly?"

"I took some classes at the local branch campus. The thing is, I could never figure out what I wanted to do. I was happy where I was, and honestly, it didn't seem worth it. My dad really wanted me to go, which is why I took the classes. Mom took my side and said I shouldn't have to go if I didn't want to, but Dad said he wanted more for me than being the manager of a souvenir shop and getting married to some guy who ran a fishing charter, or something. I felt like I let him down in that respect." She took another bite and chewed it while she wondered about Justin's education. As smart as he was, he would probably shrug and say he had a double doctorate in Sanskrit and particle physics. "What about you, Justin? Did you go to college?"

"No."

Carly waited for him to elaborate but all he did was finish his food and take his plate over to the bucket to wash it. She finished her last few bites and brought him her plate as well. Justin washed them, and Carly silently dried them and put them back into the backpack where he stored their cooking and eating gear.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Carly caught a glimpse of his dark eyes as he glanced up at her. "For what?"

"It seems that's a sore subject with you, and I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's not a sore subject, and I'm not upset. I just... didn't go, okay?"

"Okay."

Justin puffed out an exasperated breath. "All right. The real reason is I don't read all that well."

She blinked in surprise. She'd seen him reading books once or twice, and he played Scrabble like a champ.

"Most of the books I've ‘read' were audiobooks on my MP3 player. Since the Crisis, I've been trying to force myself to pick up reading books again since the batteries won't last forever. I was almost hoping it was something I'd outgrow, but apparently I'm stuck with it."

She hoped she wouldn't offend him by asking, since he seemed to be sensitive about it, but her curiosity was irrepressible. "Is it dyslexia or something like that?"

Justin nodded.

"Wow, you must be brilliant!" Carly blurted.

He stared at her. "What?"

"To have learned all of those languages without being able to read them to study? That's amazing."

Justin's face slowly split into a grin. "Carly, you're amazing. That has to be the first time anyone has ever been impressed I'm dyslexic."

"And you're one hell of a Scrabble player, too. You bet I'm impressed." She supposed the plainly-inscribed letters on the tiles would be easier to distinguish than those printed in a book, but it must have been quite a feat to memorize the spelling of words without being able to always see them properly.

He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Carly."

Carly blushed fiercely and her cheek tingled where his lips had brushed it. She didn't know what to make of him sometimes, whether he was teasing or flirting, whether little gestures like his hugs and this kiss on the cheek were meant to be platonic. Maybe he was just an affectionate guy.

She was grateful for the distraction of putting away the rest of their cooking supplies and the entertaining spectacle of watching Justin climb a tree to hang their non-canned food from a high limb to keep the bears out of it.

"But wouldn't the bears have died from the Infection, too?"

"Yeah, just like the horses and the wolves. With the way you draw animals, I'm not taking any chances that the only bear left in the Yukon will find us. And before you ask—no, we're not adding a bear to our motley crew."

Carly laughed, changing into her pajamas behind a tree while picturing a bear napping beside Sam in front of the fire. She felt the need for a shower, or at least a wipe down, but didn't feel as if her location was private enough for that, and she wasn't about to wander off into the woods by herself at night. They unrolled their sleeping bags in the tent. Funny how it had seemed so much larger before they were both confined in its space.

Carly called for Sam, and he spun around in circles before settling on the foot of her sleeping bag with a sigh. Justin zipped it up and lay down on his own sleeping bag, instead of inside it. She wondered why, but decided not to question it. For all she knew, it was one of those survival things that would make her look stupid again for not knowing it. He didn't use a pillow, either, though Carly had one taken from the hotel in Skagway. He put his handgun on the tent floor behind his head and his big hunting knife under the edge of his sleeping bag beside him. "Sleep well, Carly."

"Good night." Carly snuggled down into her pillow.