Page 104 of Last Light

It’s midafternoon now, and we’ve stopped to stretch our legs and use the bathroom. I’ve found a stick, and I’m throwing it so the dog can fetch when I hear a sound in the distance.

It’s a strange sound. Like a dull, soft roar.

The world is so quiet since technology fell that I don’t even recognize it at first.

Travis is leaning against the Jeep, studying the map pages for the tenth time today. But he lifts his head at the sound, his body growing still.

“What is that?” I ask, moving toward him.

“Engines.” He’s frowning, still listening. “A lot of ’em.” He straightens up with a jerk, lowering the map pages. “Grab the dog. Get back in. Hurry.Hurry.”

Jarred into crisis mode by the edge of urgency in his voice, I call for the dog and hustle him back into the vehicle, jumping in after him. Travis is already in the driver’s seat, pulling the Jeep out onto the trail we’ve been following through what used to be a large farm.

“Surely they’re not going to come right through these fields, are they?”

“Don’t know. But they’re gettin’ closer.”

“You don’t think it’s the drove, do you?” Even the word frightens me so much my voice catches.

“Hope not.”

Not a very encouraging answer.

“I thought they stuck to the interstates.”

“Me too.” He scans our surroundings and points to a clump of trees in the distance. “There. We can get some cover there.”

He drives us over the pastures much faster than our usual speed. I’m holding my breath and hugging my stomach and praying there’s not a drove nearby.

Everyone has heard the nightmare stories of stray travelers overrun by a drove.

The men who fight back are killed quickly. They’re the lucky ones. The women and children—even those who don’t try to resist—are raped. Over and over again. Some are kept for weeks, months, forced to service whoever has claimed them.

I’m not going to let that happen to me.

I’ll kill myself first.

I have absolutely no hesitation about that conclusion.

I’d rather die than be taken like that.

If they get me, Travis will already be dead. He’ll fight to protect me even if it’s a losing battle. I know that for sure.

If Travis is killed, I’ll have nothing left anyway.

I’m battered by these bleak reflections until we reach the cover of trees. It’s not a forest or anything close. Just a small grouping of about twelve pine trees. But there’s room between them to fit the Jeep, and I let out my breath when I know that we’re no longer out in the open.

If someone gets close, they’ll see us for sure, but I can’t imagine anyone would be coming very close to where we’re hiding.

If it’s a group of people in regular vehicles, they’ll need some sort of road.

As if he read my mind, Travis nudges my arm with his elbow and points through the trees and down a hill in the opposite direction from where we came. “Look,” he murmurs. “That’s an old county road. They must be on it.”

I nod and start to say something, but the sound of engines is growing louder. I look in the direction of the noise and see a pickup truck coming into sight.

I freeze, my hand on the dog to make sure he doesn’t jump out.

We keep watching as a few more pickups follow the first. Then a couple of large SUVs. A Jeep. A school bus. They’re not driving very quickly. In fact, they’re just inching along.

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