Free Krisis (After the Cure Book 3) by Deirdre Gould

of finding nothing than I am of finding hostile people.”
    Frank shook his head. “There were millions of people living here. Probably thousands more that must have come here over the past few years looking for help. There must be somebody. Or messages for another safe place, or something. We’ll find someone.”
    He folded up the atlas and tucked it back into his pack. They turned onto the freeway exit and walked toward the dark line of toll booths. Squat and whistling where the breeze blew through the broken glass, they reminded Nella of gargoyles. Glass and coins flashed in the low light. She gripped the knife, scanning each booth quickly. It was a perfect ambush point. But they were here to find people, not avoid them. She took a deep breath and Frank slowed down to walk beside her. They passed between two booths and nothing happened. Frank glanced back as they walked away from the splintered remains of the gate-arm, but nothing was there.
    The exit ramp dumped them into a bedroom community just a few miles outside the northern edge of the capitol. Walking in twilight through overgrown lawns in front of brick colonial buildings, the flash of early fireflies disoriented Nella. She looked for steadier sources of light, but there were none. The large houses pressed together, shrinking the grass between them, and at last fell behind them as shopping centers and gas stations took over. It was very dark now, no street lights, no glow from any window or fire. Nella strained to hear any sound, any voice, but only her own footsteps echoing Frank’s met her ear.
    “I can barely see my hand in front of my face, Frank.”
    Frank sighed heavily. He rubbed his hand over his head, and Nella patted his arm. “We’ll find someone,” she reassured him. “There must be someone. Maybe there’s no water on this side of town. Or maybe there was a barricade and nobody has bothered to dismantle it and expand this way yet. Remember, they don’t have thousands of Cured to make room for. Even with thousands of refugees there is probably still far more space than people. But we can’t do anything in the dark.”
    Frank looked relieved. “You’re right,” he said, “I had it in my head that there would be all these people, just like home, but of course there couldn’t be. The whole point was to bring them the Cure. And moving resources like water and fuel is difficult now.” He squinted into the dark and then pointed across the street. “There’s a pawn shop over there, the security gate is halfway up but I bet we can secure it.”
    They found the door unlocked. “Hello?” Nella called as Frank rolled the gate down behind them. Nobody answered. Nella pulled the camping lantern from her pack and set it near the gate. It didn’t give off much more than a dull glow. Frank looked at the lock and shook his head.
    “It’s broken. But I don’t have the key anyway. We can lock the glass door and sleep in the back where there aren’t any windows.” He picked up the lantern and closed the door. “I think it’s almost out of batteries Nella.”
    “Maybe we can find some here,” she said feeling her way toward the interior. They slept on a pile of fur coats that had been hanging on the back wall.
    Nella woke to a grid of gray light struggling through the security gate. She pushed the gate up and let the bright summer sun shine into the shop. It seemed intact. Nothing had been looted. It made sense, she guessed, what would anyone want old jewelry and electronics for now? She checked behind the counter for batteries. A few old ones rolled around the bottom of the cash drawer. She pocketed them but figured they were probably no good now. A large flashlight was tucked under the jewelry counter and Nella tried flipping it on. No good. She unscrewed the back, but the batteries had corroded the inside to a foamy white mess.
    Frank emerged from the back holding a ragged sheet of newspaper. It was printed only on one side and the letters