Page 51 of What Remains

His mind drifted to Addy—pregnant, waiting, counting the days—and to Sawyer, stretching every can of food another week, and to Jay, quietly shouldering everyone's burdens without complaint. "We need this run to count." His grip tightened on the steering wheel. "Medicine, food, hardware, farm supplies. Anywhere people wouldn't think to hit first."

Josie nodded almost immediately, leaning forward as her mind started working. "I can do that. Most people head straight for grocery stores, pharmacies, the big box retailers⁠—"

"They already have."

"Exactly." She tapped a finger against her knee, her thoughts spilling into words. "But there are veterinary clinics with antibiotics nobody considers. Medical supply distributors that hospitals buy from—not the hospitals themselves. Agricultural feed stores, restaurant suppliers, industrial warehouses. Places that don't look like survival on the outside."

Seth glanced at her, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. "You've thought about this."

"I've been thinking about it since the day I left for Denver." She looked out the windshield toward the road stretching endlessly ahead. "I just never thought I'd have enough people to actually pull it off."

"You do now."

She held his gaze a beat longer than she needed to, then looked away first—but slowly, without the usual urge to put distance between herself and a stranger.

Then the radio crackled, and Jay's voice broke through the static.

"Snow's starting. We keep moving, but stay close."

Seth reached for the microphone. "Copy."

He set it down and glanced at Josie once more. "Looks like Denver just got a little more interesting."

She managed a small smile.

Ahead of them, Jay's SUV disappeared briefly into the first swirling veil of white as winter finally caught up to them all.

By midafternoon, the sky had darkened enough that it seemed closer to dusk. The first flakes of snow drifted lazily across the highway, melting the instant they touched the still-warm asphalt. Everyone knew it wouldn't stay that way for long.

Jay lifted a hand out of the driver's side window, signaling for them to pull over. The two SUVs coasted into the cracked parking lot of what had once been a small tractor dealership. Half its windows had shattered months ago, and rusting equipment sat scattered across the property, abandoned mid-task by people who never came back for it.

"We're running low again," Jay called as he climbed out, his boots crunching on frost-covered gravel. "Let's top off while we've got the chance."

They moved without speaking. Driving, scavenging, siphoning fuel—the routine was a language they all understood.

Seth grabbed the hose and an empty fuel can from the cargo area. Cara, bow in hand, scanned the property with practiced patience, her eyes sweeping the area as she took up watch nearby. Josie stayed close to Layla, who, bundled in so many winter clothes, resembled a tiny marshmallow waddling across the lot.

The smell of old gasoline drifted into the cold air as Seth worked the hose into the tank of an abandoned pickup.

"You'd think after six months there'd be nothing left," Cara muttered.

Jay offered a humorless smile. "There won't be if we keep doing this."

Within minutes, gas flowed through the clear hose into the can. Jay wandered over to where Seth crouched beside the truck.

"You've been awful quiet."

Seth shrugged without looking up. "I talked with Josie on the drive. Turns out we're not headed to Denver—her parents own a small ranch between Denver and Boulder. She figured we'd drop them at the city limits, and she'd manage the rest on her own."

Jay let out a snort. "Not happening."

"My thoughts exactly."

Jay leaned against the truck, rubbing his gloved hands together. His eyes drifted toward the road atlas inside the lead SUV, his brow furrowed in thought. "Maybe we skip Denver entirely at first."

Seth caught his meaning immediately. "Base outside the city."

"Exactly."