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“Drink slowly,” Brock instructed as he filled each of their canteens. He lowered the bucket back into the hole and continuously refilled it.

The water was warm, but she didn’t care.

The water could’ve been littered with thick sand and crawling with insects, and Khalani would’ve gulped it down without hesitation.

It was the best thing she’d ever tasted, and as she eyed the deep hole between sips, she felt a dangerous temptation to dive in and wash away her problems with it.

“Who built this? Where does the water come from?” Adan asked, splashing some precious liquid onto his face.

“When Apollo and Hermes were first built, they constructed these wells across the Death-Zone for trading supplies. There are about seven in total. These pumps go deep underground, connected to a large river near Hermes. Colod or Colorda… I can’t remember the name.” Brock shrugged, taking a massive swig from his canteen.

“Weren’t they worried about the water being contaminated?” Derek frowned, eyeing his cup warily.

“Of course.” Brock wiped his lips. “But Death-Zoner radiation suits were designed with special filtrations to purify the water.”

She felt a shift in the air.

None of them wore radiation suits.

If the water was indeed contaminated, they had all just drunk their death sentence.

But Brock’s lips thinned, and defiantly, he took another sip. “Since we’re all still alive, with no signs of radiation sickness, I’ll take my chances on the water.”

No one argued with that.

Only when nausea burned in her throat from drinking too quickly did Khalani set her canteen down and lay back against the sand. Her heart slowed, her muscles loosened, and energy gradually returned to her limbs.

She moved her arm over her face, covering her eyes. After a moment, Khalani shifted her forearm, daring to peek at the sun…only to be blinded.

The pain didn’t deter her from trying again and again.

Going her entire life without witnessing the sun, only to have it floating right above her andstillnot be able to gaze directly upon it, was infuriating.

Only when her vision filled with white spots and she feared going blind did Khalani finally give up.

“Alright,” Brock said a half-hour later. “We have plenty of water, and you’ve all had your chance to rest. Let’s go.”

***

Khalani’s sweaty arm trembled as she supported Winnie’s fragile back. Mile after mile, they walked, surrounded by the broken vestiges of cars, crumbled buildings, and torn-down signs.

She imagined what the apocalyptic road must have looked like before the Great Collapse.

Winnie told her stories of metal buildings that stretched to the clouds. People moving endlessly in the hopes of not getting left behind, because change happened every day, and if you stopped for a moment to breathe, the world would sail right past you.

In one moment, a promising life could be held in your hands, and in the next, everything could wither away, like forgotten sand sifting through your fingers.

What if their journey ended in the same perilous manner as their ancestors?

“You okay, dear?” Winnie asked, her warm gaze sliding to Khalani.

“Yeah,” she absentmindedly answered, staring at the footprints Brock left in the sand.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine.”

Winnie cocked her head, frowning at Khalani’s brusque tone. “You know you can tell Winnie the truth, right?”