Emily's lungs burned as she shoved the truck's door open and pushed Sophie inside. She threw herself behind the wheel — she didn't know if she could drive stick, but she didn't have the luxury of worrying about it now. The keys were still in the ignition. She turned them, and the truck roared to life. Bullets still cracked from the checkpoint behind them, the sound mingling with the guttural moans of the herd. Emily jammed the stick forward and stomped the gas. The truck lurched, then shot down the empty road. They didn't stop until the sounds of the dead and the gunfire faded into the wind. Emily pulled over on a small hill just outside the city limits, her hands still trembling on the wheel. Sophie climbed onto her knees, peering out the back window toward the skyline. The city sat under a thin veil of smoke, its tall buildings jagged against the pale sky. For a moment, everything was still. Then the first wave came. Two dark shapes — helicopters — swept in low over the rooftops. From each, something tumbled downward. The moment they hit, the horizon bloomed into fire. It wasn't an explosion like in the movies. It was a spreading roar, a curtain of orange and black rolling down the streets. Thick smoke rose in great columns as fire leapt from building to building. Sophie pressed her face into Emily's arm. Emily held her close, but her own eyes stayed fixed on the burning city. She could almost hear the screams beneath the sound of the flames. In the distance, another helicopter banked toward the south side. Napalm poured in wide, sweeping arcs, and the fire spread even faster. Cole was gone. The city was gone. And the man in the trees — whoever he was — had vanished into the chaos. Emily swallowed hard. "We're not going back," she said softly, almost to herself. "Ever."
Sophie didn't answer. She just held tighter to her sister as the city burned