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“Let’s get moving then. By tonight, you’ll be safe and fed and have a bed to sleep in at one of our outposts. From there, someone will pick you up and lead you the rest of the way to our compound.”

Layla glanced at her sister, feeling the first niggling of hope in two weeks.

Maya opened her backpack and pulled out a canteen, offering it to Layla. “Water?”

“Thank you.” Layla took a long drink and then handed it to Ariel.

“Ready?” Maya asked as she stood, pulling her backpack over her shoulders. “I want to get out of the city before the sun gets any higher in the sky.”

Layla winced as she stood. She was sore from sitting on the concrete, sleeping upright.

Ariel rose next to her, shrugging into her backpack at the same time as Layla. They followed Maya out from their hiding spot and carefully climbed over the rubble to emerge from under the overpass.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Layla asked, tipping her head back to look at the sky.

Maya glanced over her shoulder. “The choppers are done for the night. We’re good. Just keep your eyes and ears open for hummers and even militants on foot.”

Layla nodded. She and Ariel had only emerged into society ten days ago, so they weren’t fully aware of everything they should look out for, but they’d learned quickly to trust no one and stay in the shadows.

For about an hour, the three of them moved in silence, glancing around at all times, listening closely. Finally, they entered a road, moving west, and Maya led them off to one side so they could move along the tree line. It would be safer than standing out like a sore thumb on the main road.

“How many people are in your group?” Layla asked when they finally allowed themselves to breathe easier.

“Oh gosh, hundreds now. We started out with just a dozen of us, but we’ve been growing.” Maya glanced at Layla. “We’re not all in the same place anymore. We…wander.” She smiled. “We call ourselves The Wanderers.”

“Seems fitting.”

“How do you know Julie?” Maya asked.

“We don’t. We’ve never met her, actually,” Layla responded.

“We’ve never met anyone,” Ariel added under her breath.

Maya’s eyes widened as she glanced back and forth between the sisters. “What do you mean?”

Layla hitched her backpack up higher on her shoulders. “Julie was one of our mother’s best friends. When our parents found out they were pregnant and then that I would be a girl, Julie was their midwife.”

Maya smiled. “So, she delivered you?”

Layla shook her head. “No. Our parents left their home in the middle of the night and moved off the grid before I was born. My father delivered both of us.”

Maya’s eyes widened further. “Holy shit. And you never went into a city?”

“Nope. We had a network of people we trusted. We traded with them. Our father would leave sometimes and come back with supplies. The three of us women never went more than about a mile from the cabin.”

“That’s incredible. I’ve heard a lot of stories of survival, but yours might top all of them.” Maya glanced to the side again. “Where are your parents now?”

Ariel sucked in a breath next to Layla.

“Dead.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me too,” Layla whispered. She didn’t feel like going into the details right now. It had only been two weeks. All Ariel and Layla had done from the moment their parents had been killed was survive. They hadn’t had time to mourn the loss or even dwell on it yet.

“Were your parents in contact with Julie then?” Maya asked, changing the subject.

“Indirectly. Several years ago, our father heard her name when he was making a trade with someone. He got a message to her. After that, he managed to set up communication between our mother and Julie. It was infrequent, but it was enough that Ariel and I knew to head west and look for her. We knew she was with a group of people who were our only hope.”


Tags: Becca Jameson The Wanderers Thriller