Chapter One

My name is Cassie.

For now, that's all I can tell you. I can't tell you my last name, or where I am, or anything, really, because if I do, they'll find me. And if they find me, they'll kill me. Or worse. A lot of people don't know that things can be worse than death.

Trust me, things can get worse. A lot worse.

That means quite a bit, especially coming from me. Unlike the majority of people who will one day read this, I didn't grow up in a Safe Zone, relatively free from the threats of disease and violence and hideously mutated animals. No, I spent the first years of my life in the Deadlands, the ungoverned ruins where those things ran wild and I could easily have died on any given day. Until I was eight, I had my parents, who protected me and taught me how to protect myself, but shortly after I turned nine, our family was attacked by a pack of mutant wolves with no shelter nearby. My parents gave their lives that day so that I could run to the remains of an apartment building and climb out of reach of the wolves. All I could do was watch as they were torn apart. So I know that things can be worse than death. Much worse.

For two years I lived on my own. There were days when I was so lonely I wished I would die. There were days when I came close to death. But when I was about eleven I met Rachel, her eyes blue like the sky on a clear day and her blonde hair cut short and uneven with a knife she kept strapped to her thigh. Since that day, we stuck together, remembering that there is safety in numbers, even if that number was only two. Friend isn't a strong enough word for what Rachel is to me. We're more like sisters. In a world where every day you stay alive is a small miracle, two years is a lifetime. She's saved my life more times than I can count, and I've saved hers. There's nothing we wouldn't do for each other.

On the day our lives changed, Rachel and I set out from the mostly intact ruins of a house hoping to find some water. We were running dangerously low and there was no river or pond in sight. We began making our way through the rubble and remains of the Old World, weapons at the ready, climbing each hill hoping to find water on the other side. It was another hour before Rachel saw anything of note.

"Cassie, look at this!" she said. It was impossible to tell what she'd found, just that it was something amazing. A lake? An intact building where we could stay the night? A field of tomato plants?

I ran over to her, hoping at best for a nice place where we could rest. Instead, something vastly different from the broken buildings surrounding us rose on the horizon.

It was huge, for one thing, bigger than anything I'd ever seen. The edges, visible against the gray sky, were sharp and clean, if jagged in places. A yellow glow emanated from it, and it was then I recognized the thing for what it was.

"A Safe Zone," I said, unable to believe such a sight. I'd only seen one before in my entire life, and it was much smaller than the one on the horizon.

"Wow," Rachel said, awed by the sheer size of the thing. There was nothing else either of us could think to say. This was a miracle greater than a triple rainbow with a wish-granting tree at the end, even if we couldn't go in. Most Safe Zones have strict rules against Deadlanders entering, but still, just the sight of it, just knowing that there were humans other than us and the vicious gang members left, made even the shattered ruins around us seem more cheerful.

"I want to get closer," Rachel said. I didn't argue with her, because I wanted to get closer too, to be able to take in the sight of life continuing from close up. And hey, Safe Zones need water too, so maybe there was some nearby.

We started traveling again, this time with a destination in sight, with a purpose greater than simple survival. Carefully climbing the ruins and testing for unstable spots seemed unbearably slow. We sped up. We began to take more risks than usual. And that's probably why what happened next happened at all.

Rachel was making her way up a pile of loose rubble, chunks of concrete and brick wall only a little smaller than I was stacked haphazardly together. I didn't think to warn her to go around, focusing instead on making my way safely up a different pile of debris. One minute I was wondering what it would be like to be so close to such a huge Safe Zone, and the next thing I knew, Rachel let out a cry of pain and she was on the ground, chunks of brick wall and other rubble lying on top of her.

I quickly scrambled down towards her, hoping she was still alive, hoping she wouldn't be crushed before I could get there. I ran to her like it was my life that depended on it and not hers. I was happy beyond belief when she smiled weakly at me, then horrified as she grimaced in pain. I began pulling the rubble off of her, clearing her face, chest, and arms of any debris.

"My - my leg," she said. "There's something wrong with it."

Rachel's left leg was trapped under a large chunk of brick wall at an awkward angle. It was probably broken. I didn't know what I'd do when I got if free - or even what I could do. The one thing that seemed obvious was that I had to free it. I went to move the chunk of rubble, but it was too heavy for me to lift. I managed to grab onto the end facing away from Rachel and pull enough to lean it back far enough that Rachel called out that she could see her foot. She tried to get free once I'd shifted the chunk of bricks, but she couldn't move her leg.

I gave up on moving the rubble and walked around to where Rachel was, trying to figure out how to free her.

"I'm going to try pulling you out, okay?" I asked. Rachel nodded, her face white with pain.

I grabbed her under the arms and pulled with all my strength, struggling to get her foot free, but it only moved a few inches and her cries of pain were too much for me to bear. I stopped pulling, helped her lie back down, and tried to think of what to do next. I'd never been in a situation like this before. All I wanted was to scream for help, try to find someone that might be able to get her out, but there was no one near. Rachel was the only person I'd seen in years. There was no one to help her, nowhere to go. The only place around was the Safe Zone.

You probably grew up in a Safe Zone, so you know that most guards have orders to shoot anything that moves on sight. Animals, children, fabric blowing in the wind. Yeah. I think it's a bit of an overreaction too. They claim it's to prevent gangs and diseased Deadlanders from getting close enough to be a threat, but who knows why they really do it? Maybe they're telling the truth. Maybe not. But it didn't matter at the time why they did it, or even if this particular Safe Zone followed those rules. Rachel was trapped. There was no way she could move, let alone fight off an attacking mutant animal or gang member. She'd die if I couldn't help her, and there was only one place that could possibly have anyone that could help. At that moment, I didn't care if I got shot, so long as I did everything in my power to save Rachel.

"I should be back soon," I said to Rachel, and I set off for the Safe Zone.

Leaving Rachel there, turning my back and picking my way across piles of rubble as fast as I could while still being safe - it was agony. But it was all I could do. So I grit my teeth and prayed Rachel wouldn't die before I could make it back.

It took a good hour to reach the wall surrounding the Safe Zone, which was made up of a variety of materials - cinder blocks, sheet metal, chunks of rubble cemented together. I made my way along the wall, looking for a place where the wall was low enough to get over, but of course that didn't happen. Instead, I found a door, locked, with a guard platform immediately above. There was only one guard, which seemed odd.

I stared up at the guard above. I hadn't seen anyone other than Rachel in years, and for a moment I put aside my urgent quest to marvel at the sight of another human being. He was my age, maybe a bit older, but that meant nothing. He was tall, or at least he seemed to be from my position on the ground beneath him. His brown hair was buzzed short, and he held his gun with an easy familiarity, like he'd grown up holding it, which he might have. He didn't see me at first, but then his brown eyes found mine and he began to panic, maybe unsure of what to do. Was it possible that they hadn't trained him to shoot on sight? Was it his first day? Whatever the reason, the fact that he wasn't shooting seemed too good to be true, and for Rachel's sake, I had to try asking for his help.

"I need help," I said. At first he looked startled, as if he didn't expect me to be able to talk, but he still wasn't shooting, so I continued.

"Please, sir. My friend is trapped and hurt. I need someone to help me get her out. Please."

For a moment he considered what I said, and then his face hardened, and he trained his gun on me.

"This is another gang trick, isn't it?" he accused. "Send in someone innocent-looking, lure out a guard, then attack and overtake the whole Zone."

"What?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"This is just another plot to get inside and steal our resources, isn't it?" he snarled.

"No, it's not, I swear," I say, growing desperate. I was expecting to be shot on sight, not accused of being a gang member.

"You're lying," he said, but his voice was uncertain.

I knew there was nothing I could say that would change his mind.

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, he spoke again, his voice much softer than before.

"I ought to kill you right now," he said, training his gun on me with renewed purpose.

How do you respond to that?

I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the look on his face when he killed me. Would it be one of renewed fury, or one of uncertainty and fear? Or worse, one of passiveness, as if killing me wasn't a big deal? It didn't matter, though, did it? Not really. I heard the gun being cocked. I waited for the shot to be fired, for my life to fade.

I waited for the death I'd been evading for years, not fighting it with all my strength, but instead at peace with it.

I bowed my head and prayed Rachel would die fast, without pain.