“What are you doing?” Nat asked as Wes crept along the side of the truck, muttering Zedric’s name as another blast echoed across the hilltop.
She ducked as a shower of snow rained down from the trees.
“Put it down! What do you think you’re doing?” Wes yelled, walking out from behind the truck.
She stood from her place and saw where Wes was headed. Zedric was perched on top of an old black Bentley. Its tires were flat and all the windows were missing. Someone had pulled out the seats and the engine was gone. Zedric laughed as he tried to steady himself on the hood of the car that was slowly collapsing under his weight.
“Watch this!” Zedric yelled, as he aimed his RPG at a pair of thin steel-and-wood beams that supported a big house across the hill. The long glass facade must have been beautiful once, but its windows were all smashed now and its roofline as wavy as a noodle. The neighboring houses were similarly perched out over the hill on tiny thin posts.
A loud smack interrupted her thoughts.
Wes had knocked the rifle from Zedric’s hand, which hit the boy’s nose as the gun fell to the snow. “What the hell!” Wes demanded.
Zedric glared at him. “I was just having a little fun!”
For a moment, Nat thought he was going to hit Wes, but the smaller boy seemed to think better of it.
There was a pop—another explosion—but different this time, and all of them turned around to see the long white house slide down the hillside and crash into the trash pile below.
“You shot out the supports, didn’t you?” asked Wes.
“It was fun,” Zedric repeated, reaching for his gun as he wiped a trickle of blood from his nose.
“Thanks a lot. You just let the seeker team out there know exactly where we are. Where’s your brother? We need to get out of here before they come.”
Zedric shrugged, but they all knew where to look.
“Once a scavenger, always a scavenger,” Wes muttered and Nat understood the temptation had been too great for Daran. Zedric’s hyena laugh echoed through the canyon as a second house disappeared down the cliff side.
“I’m assuming you weren’t dumb enough to shoot at the house your brother’s in?” Wes demanded.
Zedric glared at Wes as blood streamed out of his nose. “What’s your problem, man?” he whined. “Ain’t hurting no one.”
“Just get him already.”
“Daran!” Zedric called.
“Daran!” Shakes took up the call and Farouk did, too. Nat did the same.
After a few minutes Daran lumbered out of the house, his arms filled with a collection of junk: toasters, an electric fan, what looked like part of a blender. He ran, breathless, back to the truck.
“Shakes—we good to go?” Wes asked.
“Ready when you are.”
Wes barked his orders. “Everyone in the truck! Now!”
“What’s the rush?” Farouk asked, as they watched Daran hustle toward them, wading through the snow.
“These houses are packed with pop-cans, every single one of them. It’s common knowledge. Daran should have known better, he does know better,” Wes said, frustrated. “C’MON!” he yelled.
“He’s stuck,” Nat said, as they watched Daran flail in the deep snow. But as she moved to help, Wes pulled her back.
There was another explosion. This one wasn’t from the big gun or the sound of a house skiing down the hillside. The two of them were blown backward to the ground as the air filled with a mix of white powder and black smoke.
“Pop-can,” Wes said, kicking away a rusted can that Nat had accidentally stepped on. “An old one; that’s why it didn’t immediately explode when you hit it.”
Nat just stared at him, too shaken up to speak.
“You can thank me later,” he said. “DARAN, COME ON, MAN! Zedric—go help your brother.”
Zedric stood his ground, staring at Wes, his eyes wide with fear.
“We’re not going to leave you boys—you hear me? Go get your dimwit brother out of that trench! Now!”
Zedric didn’t move.
“Pop-cans have a proximity detonation feature,” he explained to Nat. “When one of those things go off, it sends a signal to the rest. This whole valley could collapse. All this so Daran can buy a hit of oxy in K-Town.”
On cue, another explosion atomized the house behind them. Wes cursed—the explosion had sent Daran flying, and he was wedged facedown in the black snow. “Mask!” Wes yelled, and Shakes threw him a gas mask. “If you hear another pop, hit the gas—I’ll meet you in K-Town!” He put on the mask and waded through the snow and smoke toward the fallen soldier.
“C’mon,” Zedric said, pushing Nat into the LTV. “Every pop-can within a mile is going to explode in a few minutes!”
But Nat held her ground. “We can’t go without them. Shakes, we can’t leave him here!” she said wildly.
“Don’t worry, haven’t lost him yet,” Shakes promised.
A third explosion triggered a fourth. Nat knew they would have to go soon—otherwise they would all end up dead.
But after a few minutes Wes finally emerged from the smoke, Daran slung over his shoulder. She caught her breath and raced out of the truck to help him drag the unconscious kid through the snow. Shakes jumped out of the cabin and opened the back door. They slid Daran into the cargo area, then sped off down the hillside, the valley echoing with bombs.
16
THE CANYON WALLS COLLAPSED BEHIND them, and as the snow fell, crushing the blanket of flowers, the petals released their seeds, filling the air with a glittering cloud of specks. Even as they were making their escape, Wes thought it was one of the prettiest sights he had ever seen.
“Nanos!” Farouk yelled.
“No! They’re not nanos!” Wes said. “They’re something else.”
“Seeds—they’re seeds!” Nat said excitedly. “Look!” The team watched as the seeds were swept high by the wind and spread over the snowy landscape, twinkling and swirling, a cloud of life, instead of death.
Wes caught her eye and he knew she was thinking the same thing. So this was how the flowers came to cover the area. Somehow, some way, something was growing in the wastelands. Was the earth healing? Was there such a thing as hope for the future? A way beyond this frozen hellhole?
For now, the hillside had liquefied under the stress of the many explosions and was cascading down into a waterfall of wet snow and debris. Wes shook his head. It was all such a waste, and frightening how easily everything had been destroyed—as if the houses were made of straw—all it took was one puff and they were gone. It was a miracle they had survived this long.
When they were halfway down what was left of the 101, Daran woke up, annoyed at having dropped his loot. He had little left to show for his pains: a gold watch and a silver spoon stuffed into his pants pockets. Metal had some value in K-Town but not much. He would have been better off if he’d held on to the kerosene lantern he’d found in the garage. He was still complaining as they hit the streets of the phantom, snow-covered city, mumbling under his breath and cursing his trigger-happy little brother for his prank.
“Ah, shut up already,” Shakes said, uncharacteristically edgy.
Wes shook his head at Daran; he was too tired to be angry. He turned to Nat. “You’re bleeding,” he said, motioning to the side of her head.
