PROLOGUE
CALLIE
When a hundred elitestudents flew to Zion Island in the middle of the Atlantic for spring break, they didn’t know that while they were chugging expensive booze and dancing, the world had exploded into a nuclear war.
While they dove off their fancy yachts and floated in infinity pools, the powerful military nations showered each other with warheads.
While they snorted drugs in their paradise cribs and fucked each other’s brains out, millions were wiped off the face of the earth.
The sound of the world turning into a scorching cemetery was drowned by the techno music that blasted across the paradise beaches of Zion.
Then the cellphones started dinging with messages and calls but stopped abruptly. Social media went silent. And when the signal dropped completely, they knew something was wrong.
But by then, there was no way to reach home.
Many of them didn’t have a home anymore.
Nor did they have families.
I still think that they were lucky. In the way you are lucky when you don’t have to watch the world turn to dust.
Or see scorched bodies scattered across the landscape of rubble.
Or hear your loved ones wail.
Or watch them die…
Two years have passed since the Change. Yeah, there is irony in the word that carries with it despair and horror and signifies the turning point when the almighty proved that they can do anything for power. While they compared their dicks, they spat out warheads, wiping out city after city.
It will take decades to repair the damage and a lifetime to heal the scars.
The bombing stopped a long time ago, but the real enemy is the fallout. It’s a silent invisible monster that claims thousands every day.
And then there is Zion.
Untouched.
Self-sustaining.
It’s my only hope for a normal life.
It’s where Abby, the only person I have left who is dear to me is.
And I am one of the few lucky ones to join the paradise.
1
CALLIE
“Zion islike going back in time,” the young tattooed captain says before we zip up the hazmat suits and put the masks and respirators on.
If going back in time means to a world before the nuclear war, respirators, or fallout, it’s a good thing. Even the pandemic years before sounds like child’s play compared to this.
Leaving mainland is surreal, considering the world is in lockdown.
We file through the door that leads outside to the Yellow Zone—the coastal part farther away from the big cities. Yet, the protective equipment is still in place.
“The islanders are sensitive,” the captain explains and winks as we go out onto the docks and load onto a large speedboat.