“Oh, yeah?” I said, glancing around the perimeter. It was my turn on watch, even though it had been over a year since the outbreak and the few teds that stumbled by were so far decayed that we didn’t need to make much effort to put them down. Shoving them to the ground and stomping their heads usually did the trick. The act was a lot like crushing an empty soda can; their insides were mush. Even Elleny had put a few down that way.

We still took turns, though, on top of the roof of the farmhouse. A surprise attack was still dangerous, especially on a day like today when everyone would be running around, celebrating, forgetting to be careful.

I glanced down at the crosses under the oak tree. The soil on the graves now had grass growing from the settled mounds.

Ashley stepped off the porch and looked up at Jenna and me, holding her hand over her eyes to shield them from the glare. “Are you coming or what?” she said, smiling.

Jenna managed a half-smile. “Just getting my sights lined out.”

“You’re going to surprise him,” I said, nudging her arm.

“I’m going to surprise everyone.”

With that, Jenna crawled to the ladder carefully and climbed down to the porch. She caught up with Elleny, and they interlocked arms. Over the last year, they had bonded and become best friends, both bearing a truth no child their age should carry. Elleny, with the nightmares she endured from Kevin, and Jenna, with the guilt of leaving her father to die. Except for that first night, she didn’t sleep through the night for months, tortured by the last moments she’d spent with her father. Elleny understood her pain in a way no one could, and they’d become inseparable.

“Mommy!” Halle called, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “You comin’ down?”

“No, ma’am. I’m on watch.”

“Aw,” she whined, kicking at the dirt.

Nathan stepped off the porch carrying Zoe in one arm, and scooped up Halle with the other. He kissed Halle’s cheek. “I’ll walk you, baby doll.” Nathan glanced up at me and winked, and then followed Elleny and Jenna to the open field.

I glanced around the perimeter, checking hard to see places through my scope, and then turned to watch my happy family marching to the place Skeeter had set up for the challenge.

Ashley had stayed behind, standing over the graves of her father, her sister, and Cooper. She stared at the crosses she had painstakingly made for them fondly, mouthing words I couldn’t hear. Finally, the front door slammed and Skeeter appeared. He walked up behind Ashley and put his arm tenderly around her waist. They stood there for a moment, with Ashley leaning back against his chest. Skeeter leaned forward to kiss her cheek and then took her hand, leading her away.

Skeeter and Ashley had leaned on each other for support for a long time after we lost everyone. Their friendship turning into something more wasn’t really a surprise, but it was interesting watching them love each other while still mourning and loving Jill and Cooper. We lived in a strange new world, where even relationships required a new understanding.

As everyone I loved walked hand in hand or in someone’s arms, a familiar and yet strange sound echoed in the distance. As soon as I heard the sound, I knew what it was, but it had been so long since we’d heard or even seen an airplane, it was easy to believe it could be my imagination.

I stood up on the roof, trying to discern from which direction the muted, swirling sound of air was coming from. I turned, holding my hand over my eyes to block out the glaring sun. The sound of the planes’ engines was present, but the planes themselves were not. Nathan, the girls, Ashley, and Skeeter stood in the field, every one of their faces tilted to the sky.

The sound grew closer, and just before it was on top of us, two fighter jets soared over side by side, heading south.

Instinctively, I called out to Jenna, and also instinctively, she pulled Halle from Nathan’s arms and ran toward the house. Everyone hurried toward the porch, talking at the same time in excited tones.

“Where do you think they’re going?” Ashley asked loudly, most likely directed at me.

“Wichita, looks like. It’s about an hour and a half that way, right?” I answered.

Jenna encouraged Halle up the ladder, where they both sat close to me. The planes were out of sight, but we kept our eyes on the horizon.

Nathan set Zoe on her feet. “At those speeds, you’d think they’d be there by now.”

Just as Nathan finished his sentence, a bright light outshone the sun, and then a mushroom cloud formed, climbing miles into the sky. Every one of us stared in disbelief. I remembered seeing mushroom clouds on television, but in person . . . it didn’t seem real.

“What is that?” Halle asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Is that a nuclear bomb?” Ashley said, her tone signaling her impending panic.

“’Bout how far away are we from Wichita? In miles.” Skeeter asked.

Nathan shrugged. “Right at seventy, I bet.”

“We should get inside. I don’t know what kind of bomb that is, but . . .”

“Oh my God,” I said, seeing a wave of dust rising above the horizon. It was heading our way. “Go, Jenna! Go!”

Nathan and I helped the girls climb down the ladder, and I climbed down a few rungs, jumping the rest of the way when I saw the cloud was coming up fast. “Get inside!” I screamed. I closed the door and ran to get towels to stuff under it. Ashley and Skeeter were pulling up the blankets we used to cover the windows at night, and Nathan was shoving towels under the back door.

We stood in the living room, panting and staring at each other. I shook my head at Nathan, at a loss for what else to do. A roar welled up outside. Jenna, Halle, and Elleny ran to me, and I hugged them all, watching Nathan do the same with Zoe.

Ashley ducked under Skeeter’s arm and looked up at him. “What do we do?”

Skeeter scanned the room as the roaring got louder. “Everyone get down on the ground.”

We huddled together, waiting until the wave was upon us. The wood frame of the farmhouse creaked against the blast, and the dirt popped against the outer north wall. The three windows on that side burst, throwing glass all over the dining room table and the floor. I kept the girls’ heads down, praying that would be the extent of it.

As soon as the wave hit, it was gone. We all slowly looked up at one another, wondering what to do next.

Ashley sniffed. “Are we far enough away, if there’s radiation?”

“I can’t believe it,” Nathan said. “I can’t believe they bombed the city. A year after this all started? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe the cities are lost, and this is their way of cleanin’ up?” Skeeter said. “They can eliminate a lot of teds that way.”

“So does that mean there’s not a cure?” Elleny said.

“We don’t know anything, yet,” I said. Halle was curled into a ball in my lap, shaking. “Sssh, baby. It’s going to be all right.”

“Will they bomb us?” Jenna asked.

“No,” I said. “We’re so far removed from everything—”

“But what about Shallot?” Elleny asked. “It was full of teds. What if they drop a bomb that close to us?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think they will, honey. Most of the teds there have wandered off. Probably to Wichita.”

“I hope there weren’t any survivors left,” Ashley said. “To make it this long and then that happen. How awful.”

“I don’t think anyone would survive long in the cities,” Skeeter said. “I think we should all stay inside for now. Wait till the air clears. We’ll watch to see how Butch acts the next couple of days, watch for fallout. I don’t see why they’d risk dropping a nuclear bomb. A regular one’d do the trick.”

Nathan nodded. “I agree. No sense in getting all worked up.”

“Okay,” I said. I stood up and pulled the girls with me. “Did you hear that? Birthday party has been brought inside.”

Jenna’s mouth pulled to the side. I cupped her face in my hands. “First thing’s first. There is a can of peaches with your name on it.”

“Can I have one, Jenna? Pleeeeease?” Halle begged.

I left them for the basement, searching through the pantry. Nathan followed me down. I pulled the can off the shelf and looked up at him from under my brow. “We didn’t make it this long just to die of radiation poisoning, right? You weren’t just saying that to make us feel better?”

Nathan shook his head and pulled me into his arms. “No, love. Skeeter’s right. What point would there be to using a radioactive bomb? Unless they had a specific reason to use it, I don’t think it makes much sense.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

I took a deep breath and squeezed him tight. Even with his promise, a suffocating sense of dread consumed me. Jenna and Elleny crawled to the window and pulled back the blanket.

“Mom! Is that snow?”

I stood up and walked over to the window, peeking through a crack between the boards. “No,” I said softly, watching the fluffy, dark pieces float to the ground.

“That’s fallout, ain’t it?” Skeeter asked.

Nathan leaned down to get a better look through the largest crack. “Fallout isn’t radioactive in itself. It could just be dust and debris from the blast that was shot into the air.”

Everyone brought blankets and pillows to the basement that night, hoping that putting one more level between us and the ash covering the grass outside would provide a little more protection By nightfall, enough of it had accumulated on the ground to look like a blanket of dirty wool.

After the children fell asleep, Skeeter and Nathan discussed what the fallout—radioactive or not—might do to our water supply, and other frightening things until Ashley asked them to stop. It was too late, though; even after we settled in and tried to get some sleep, I found myself staring at the ceiling, worrying.

Nathan kissed my temple. “I think it’s going to be okay, Scarlet. I really do.”

“But what if it’s not? How can I save our kids from this?”

Nathan didn’t answer, which scared me even more.

My eyes were just getting heavy enough to stay closed when Skeeter scrambled over to one of the small windows that ran along the top of the east wall. He stood up on the tips of his toes, and could barely get a glimpse.

“I’ll be damned,” he said softly.

“What?” Nathan said. He wasn’t as tall as Skeeter, so he jumped once. They traded glances.

“What do you see?” I said, sitting up on my elbows.

The men rushed to the stairs. Their footsteps only got faster when they crossed the kitchen and living room. I scrambled from my pallet and followed them, gasping when I caught sight of what had them so amazed. The ash was still falling from the sky, gray like a cloudy winter day.

“Is it going to storm?” I said.

“No,” Nathan said, his eyes bouncing between the falling and accumulating ash. “The debris is in the atmosphere.”

“How long will it stay this way?” I asked.

Nathan shook his head. “I don’t know, honey.” He looked to me, for the first time real worry in his voice. “I don’t know.”

Six days after the blast, we were all feeling the effects of being stuck inside. The kids were arguing, and the adults were quick to anger. Without being able to hunt, we were forced to make a significant dent in the precious few canned goods in the pantry.

I stood in the basement, holding three cans of black-eyed peas, and let the tears flow. Ashley took the cans from my arms and leaned her cheek against mine.

“It’s going to be okay, right? You’re just frustrated, but it’s going to be okay.”

I nodded and wiped my eyes, taking back the cans. “Yes. We’re going to be fine.”

“Good,” Ashley said, breathing a sigh of relief. I wasn’t exactly convincing, but she wanted to believe me, so she was easy to fool.

We walked upstairs together, greeting the kids who were already seated at the dining room table. Nathan took a second look at me, knowing right away I’d been upset. I pulled the can opener from a drawer and began spooning out the beans into everyone’s bowls, noting the absence of our usual cheerful dinnertime discussion—or any discussion at all. The girls were staring down into their bowls, looking lost, but Skeeter and Nathan didn’t have any more comforting words to offer.

“When it’s clear outside, we’re going to have finish Jenna’s birthday party,” I said, joining everyone at the table. “She’s been working really hard to beat you, Skeeter.”

Skeeter forced a small smile. “Oh yeah, Jenna?”

Jenna didn’t look up from her bowl. She didn’t speak. The hopelessness on her face broke my heart.

“Baby?” I said quietly. Her doe eyes rose to meet mine. “This won’t last forever. I promise.”

Jenna slowly turned to the living room to look out the window. Her eyes widened, and she stood up. “Mom!”

For the first time in nearly a week, ashes weren’t falling from the sky. I looked to Jenna, and then to Nathan. Everybody stood up at the same time and rushed to the window, and then sighs of relief and laughter filled the house.

Elleny put her hand on the door, but Nathan stopped her. “Not yet.”

“What do you mean? Why not?” Jenna asked, her eyes instantly filling with tears.

Nathan began to answer her, but stopped. The pause that followed was filled with a distant, repetitive beat.

“What is that?” Ashley asked. She listened again. “Is that what I think it is?”

A black helicopter passed over, and then made a wide turn. We watched in awe as it returned, hovered over the road for a moment, and then lowered, landing just beyond the mouth of the drive. Four men with guns filed out, and suddenly I was more terrified of them than I was of the ash. They jogged across the lawn to the porch, and we all jerked at a banging on the door.