I looked down, to see a round, muscled shoulder pushed against the bars. I let my knee fall to rest, my muscles screaming relief.

Old eyes blinked up at me, green eyes with flecks of gold in them. Rippled, golden hair with streaks of grey. A perfect, unbroken nose. The eyes crinkled into a smile and my heart opened, filleted and bared.

“My name is Jonathan,” he said, deep and rumbling, and I almost slid off the bars because I was melting.

I summoned my strength, pulled my foot up to his shoulder, and stood. “You’re Joseph’s father,” I whispered in wonderment. Was I imagining him?

He wobbled a little in shock, and I leaned away from the gate. Strong arms grabbed my ankles.

“You knew my son?” he asked as he helped me climb over the gate.

I love your son.

I reached the top and between bursts of shocked breaths and tears, I managed to say, “I know your son, Jonathan,” as I flopped over the top of the gate and landed on him.

He laughed, and I found it hard not to hug him. To let the warmth of his laughter cover and protect me.

A small, gentle voice came from behind him. “Jonathan, we need to leave.”

He pulled me up to standing, and I rushed to Rosa-May and Gwen. I tugged on her little arms, checked her legs, and squatted down to dust the tears from her face.

“I’m your big sister. My name’s Rosa too.” She nodded shyly, her plump stomach swinging back and forth under a tight grey jacket. “I’m going to take care of you now.”

“Where Mama?” she asked, though I think she knew.

My heart sliced into a thousand pieces, and I handed one large part to her to keep. “It’s just going to be you and me for a while, but I promise I’ll look after you,” I said, barely managing to speak. My eyes connected with Gwen’s, who mirrored my sorrow. But the strength behind them was burning.

“Do you think they’ll follow through with the plan?” I asked.

“They always do.”

Jonathan stepped forward. “What plan?”

“Our friends and your son are going to free us from this place,” Gwen announced.

My eyes followed the streams of fleeing people getting further and further away from us.

The woman tugged on Jonathan’s large arm. “Jonathan, even if it is our Joseph she’s speaking of, we still need to leave right now,” she urged. Her eyes flicked to me briefly. “Please girls, come with us but come now. It’s not safe here.”

“Wait Steph,” he said, putting his hand up. “What does she mean by free us?” he directed to me.

“There’s a lot to explain, too much, but for now… just follow the people,” I said, pointing towards the last stragglers running away from the shattered Ring.

I picked Rosa May up and swung her onto my back. Her wet face rested in my hair. I swore I would find a way to ease her tears but right now, she had every right to them. I dried my own and walked towards the outer Ring. My eyes to the sky.

ROSA

I’m too used to grief. I expect it. It’s a sad friend that wraps itself around my ankles and makes me drag it through the streets. These empty, ghost-like streets.

Back in this grey world, I felt like a child.

“He’s gone, Rosa,” Gwen said lightly, like she knew it would happen.

“Huh?” I could barely concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

“That Denis guy, your friend.” She swept her head back and forth, her plait snaking up and down her shoulder, an offered rope of safety withdrawn, her eyes running over empty doorways and doors half-cracked. She winced every time she saw a body in the street. Trampled. I swung Rosa-May to my hip so I could shield her eyes.

“He wasn’t my friend, not really.” He used me. I used him. I wasn’t surprised that he took off.

Rosa-May kept saying Mama over and over again as we passed through gate after gate. It was like a steady flow of small punches to the stomach. I crumpled deeper at each repetition.

Joseph’s parents were quiet in their horror. Several times, Jonathan ran to a trampled body to check their pulse. Every time he returned, shaking his head. Steph kept her hand over her mouth like that would stop fear from winning, horror from slipping out. Pau Brazil was now a hollow shell. Footsteps sounded like single stones falling from the sky. Solitary, too loud.

Everyone was gone.

Everyone.

I checked every few paces, but the sky remained clear. The Survivor’s video hadn’t started, and I worried something had gone wrong. That he wasn’t here. That they got to him first. My feet sped up, my leather shoes squeaking on the stones. Gwen and Joseph’s parents kept pace with me and soon, we were running. We caught up with the noise, the panicked screaming, and were sucked into the thrashing fishtail end of thousands of people fleeing the compound. They had to be heading somewhere. I jumped up to try and see over the sea of heads, but I was too small. Jonathan stood behind me. He shielded his eyes with his hand, the sun casting a plane of light right into his face.

“There. Up ahead. I’ll be damned. Someone’s blown a hole through the wall.”

I squeezed Jonathan’s arm. “He’s here.” The words a balm, a medicine to keep me from liquefying into a pool of sadness.

I clutched Rosa-May tighter, grabbed Gwen’s hand, and moved with the crowd, losing Joseph’s parents in the throng.

JOSEPH

After the blast, Pelo made it to us and we crouched down behind the chopper. Waiting. Watching for people to start coming over the rubble and into the open. A lid flipped open near the nose of the chopper, and the little guy with the case popped his head out of the ground like a mole. He took one look at the wall blown to pieces, swung his head to the chopper where he saw us crouching over the bound soldiers, and disappeared back into the ground before we could really register his presence.

In the other towns, people had warily picked their way over the broken wall and peeked their heads out like nervous mice. They tested the air. Sampled the freedom. Some had retreated. Some had stepped over carefully and wandered out. My eyes rested on the pile of rubble, anticipating the same kind of reaction.

A bald head poked its way up from behind the hill of twisted iron and concrete dust. Eyes squinted and blinked behind round glasses. The old man put his hand to his brow, searched the horizon, and was flattened. I surged forward but Gus grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me back. Hundreds of people flurried over the debris, trampling the man. Desperate, dirty faces, women clutching children to their hips, others chained to each other by tight, clasped hands as they pulled loved ones through. They poured over the breach in the wall like an avalanche. People tripped, their legs getting stuck in the gaps between the rubble. They were run over before I could blink.

I tensed and clenched my teeth. What the hell had happened in there? These people weren’t just escaping the compound; they were running away from something. Running for their lives.

A young woman with golden brown hair scrambled over the edge of the debris. People streamed passed her, yet she held still. Another girl came behind her and put her arm on the woman’s shoulder, pulling herself up and passing her a small girl about Orry’s age. I squinted. I knew that face.

“It’s Gwen,” I said to Gus, elbowing him.

Gus shook his head in disbelief and whispered, “It can’t be…”

My excitement overcame any other panic. We’d found Gwen. I rose from my crouch.