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Krieger looked at the rest of the crew, who all shared the same look as Eva. Except Derek—he busied himself with his pack, not giving the land before him any of his attention.
Eva tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she said, “We thought it was over.”
Luke grunted. “We all thought it was over.”
She shook her head before looking to the ground. “The rains came soon after. Flooding the rivers and valley. We were able to make it out before the rising water blocked any means of escape. There was nothing left here for us. It was as if a dark cloud hung over the valley and settled in for the long haul. We came to the hills, full of trees and life, seemingly unaffected by the floods and tornadoes. Inclined as it was, the water couldn’t reach us... we were lucky. Some were not.” She took a deep breath. “We met other survivors. One had a radio, could decipher Morse code—”
He took a long drag on the air. “What?”
“Natural disaster, stop, across the world, stop, seek shelter, stop, survive, stop.”
She turned to him. “Krieger, that’s why we live in trees, in this area, our home. We try to stay out of reach of man and Mother Nature. Some people looked for help. Others, well, they started destroying whatever was left standing, in the name of survival. Fear controlled their actions, hope inspired ours.”
“What about the earthquakes and tornadoes?”
“The rock is dense beneath Everwood. We don’t feel the full impact of the earthquakes often. Sometimes we do, and we repair the damage as it comes. As for the tornadoes... We’ve been lucky.” Eva moved away from the edge. “Let’s keep moving.”
Krieger kept his head tilted toward the devastated village. “Do storms still pass through here?”
Over her shoulder, she said, “Yup. Like I said, dark cloud... long haul.”
Okay, then.
They sped up their descent into the destruction. It was a steep drop from the knoll. They had to scramble over debris, being mindful of their footing, dodging broken pieces of cars, houses, and street lamps. The garbage was overwhelming, covering the ground and squishing under their feet.
From the cliff, the area had looked demolished, but from the street, it looked like a wasteland. Nothing remained in the sea of cars and broken-up concrete, collapsed buildings, and downed power lines.
Eva charged forward to a slanted school bus. The tires were flat, and the whole front end sat wedged between heaving blacktop and debris. Soot and black spray paint marred the side of the yellow metal. And if he thought the crew was on edge before, now they were borderline paranoid in the valley. Here, they didn’t have the brush and trees as cover, they were exposed.
They stepped around everything with quick, crafted movements, their hands readied on the triggers, their eyes peeled, waiting for the unexpected. Are the Others out here? Watching us this very minute?
His feet moved through the muck, sticking in the dense thickness as he made his way over to the vehicle. Darkness lay on the horizon, and so did dinner, he realized when a low growl sounded from his gut, sending vibrations up his chest.
Eva circled back around, motioning for the crew to come to her. “We’ll camp here tonight. Luke, start a fire. Sarah, get to cooking. Derek, run a quick perimeter check with John. I’ll inspect the bus and ready it for the night. Krieger, you’ll assist me.”
Shouts of approval and grunts of exhaustion sounded as they each set off to their directed duties.
Eva started to work on getting the bus door open, and Krieger stepped over some well-picked carcasses to help her; thankfully the bones didn’t look human. After a few heaves from her and a jerk from him, the door popped open.
The smell of mold and mildew overwhelmed his olfactory senses before he even saw the once leather seats that were covered in dry mud. His shoes scraped over piles of gritty sand and rocks, and he wondered if this bus had been flooded by the water she spoke of.
He shifted his weight. The bus held steady. The frame sat at an angle but would hold them for the night.
Eva went farther into the bus with her hand primed on the butt of her gun. “Clear,” she announced before turning to him. “Hurry.”
He took a step toward her. “What do you need me to do?”
With wide eyes, she said, “Take off your shirt.”
“What?”
She rushed over to him. “Just hold still, I need to inspect your wound.” Eva shoved his hands out of the way and lifted his layers of shirts.
“This isn’t necessary, but if it makes you feel better.”
She prodded his abdomen with cold hands a few times before letting his shirt fall away. The contact caused his skin to break out in gooseflesh, but not from the cold.
“Feel better?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
