

"I don't suppose you have any beer in you," Marylou said, as she poked the fire. "Or, I don't know... some Jagger?" "No," Amy said. "Sorry."

"You see, that's the downside of taking shelter in a high school building," Marylou said. "They don't have any alcohol in the cafeteria. Canned goods and juice, sure. But God forbid they keep a few Steel Reserves stacked away in the case of future apocalyptic rain." "There's more food?" Amy said, her mouth dripping corn and pork into the cans Marylou had given her. "Yeah, there's a shit ton of stuff in the cafeteria," Marylou replied. "It's tricky to get there, though, 'cause it's in another building."

The girl stopped her spoon halfway to her mouth. "You have to go out in the rain?" "Yeah," Marylou said. "But only for a little bit." The girl held on to her stare, somber eyes, then resumed eating in silence. "How long since you had something to eat?" Marylou asked. "Before now, I mean." The girl stopped again, a little piece of corn dangling from her lips. "I don't remember," she said.

"Three days, I think. Why?" "You're eating like a farm animal with a bad tooth."

The girl sniffed and cleaned her mouth and rested the can on the floor. "I'm sorry," she said. Marylou laughed. "It's fine. Eat, come on, I'm not royalty." They'd been back at the fire for almost an hour, and the sun was beginning to rise out the window above their heads. Amy didn't talk much – a quality that Marylou had always cherished in people, before the Storm – but she seemed harmless. No family, no friends. Said she'd been drifting from abandoned house to abandoned house, trying to find food and shelter, for months now. Said she saw a stray cat once, but the cat ran way. Also said she'd seen a lightning really close to her, a few days before. Also said she liked the color blue. Not a person with very interesting stories, Marylou concluded. But, truth be told, it was nice having someone existing near her for a change, after so many days of solitude. Even if that someone wasn't exactly the most exciting person ever. And ate like a farm animal. How that girl had made it this far on her own in the shitshow that the world had become, Marylou had no idea. "So, where did you live? Before the Storm?"

Amy looked up from her can. "Beverly Hills. With my parents." "Uh. Rich bitch."

Amy frowned. "I'm just joking," Marylou said. "Partly." Amy shoved some more food down her throat, then looked up. "How about you?"

Marylou chuckled. "Oh, shit. You wouldn't know the name of my neighborhood."

"Why not?" "Cause it's white trash and poor and faaar away from Beverly Hills." Amy didn't say anything, but kept her eyes up, expecting more.

Marylou sighed. "I lived in a trailer park with two very nice methamphetamine addicts." Amy kept the blank stare.