Noah had been alone for so, so long. He sat huddled by the fire, staring. Finn was also awake, but just barely. Tina was asleep, Summer curled up in her arms. He looked over and watched the little girl sleep.
Where's her mom? Noah asked Finn.
Dead.
Noah wasn't surprised. Quinn had been strong, but not that strong. He lay down, shivering.
I'm sorry, said Finn.
What for?
She's yours. I'm sorry she calls me Daddy.
She's not mine. She never was.
Are you sure?
Yeah. Don't tell her I'm her dad.
I wasn't going to.
They found a house in the woods about half a mile from the road; Noah had spotted the roof showing between the trees far up the hill, and it had been miraculously untouched. The cupboards were stocked with canned goods, there was dry firewood in the shed, a real hearth with a chimney. Tina had scouted the upstairs, and returned saying, Well, the owners never left. Don't let Summer go up there.
They decided they would stay for a couple days, at least. Noah had built a fire while Tina sat with Summer, pulling the tangles out of the little girl's hair while Finn prepared a feast of canned pears and corn, boiling the corn in a pot over the hearth. Noah went upstairs and found an aged bottle of shampoo, half-full and mostly dry, but they mixed it with water from Finn's bottle and washed their hair in a metal tub Finn found in the shed. Then they'd taken turns undressing and scrubbing their bodies as clean as they could get them, standing naked and shivering in the tub by the fire. Noah wrapped himself in a blanket and sat close to the hearth with Summer. When he saw her teeth chattering, he pulled her into his lap, wrapping the blanket around her too.
Are you like the Noah from the story? she asked him.
There's lots of stories. What one are you talkin' about?
The one about the boat. And the animals.
Noah and the Ark?
Yeah.
I don't know. Do you think I'm like him?
I don't know.
Okay.
What about me?
What about you?
What does my name mean?
He smiled. It means warmth, and the sun, and good days.
Okay.
Just okay?
Yeah.
You warm enough?
Yeah.
Okay.
In the morning, Tina found a stack of paper in the study. Look, Summer, she exclaimed. Watch. She folded the paper again and again until it took on a three-dimensional shape; she slid her fingers up into it and it opened and closed like the mouth of a baby bird begging for a full stomach.
What is it? Summer asked, lifting it from Tina's hands.
It's a fortune teller. It tells the future.
How does it work?
You write things that could happen under these flaps, here, and numbers on these parts, here, and colors on the outside squares…
Summer frowned as the explanation unfolded. It doesn't really tell the future, does it? she asked, looking down at the paper object she held in her hands.
Tina sighed. No.
Summer nodded. Later, they threw it in the fire, watching the flames flare up as the paper curled and blackened.
It was morning, and Finn and Noah were moving stacks of firewood from the shed to the house.
We can't have a fire during the day, said Finn.
Why not? It's cold.
People will see the smoke.
There's no people.
There might be.
Okay.
We don't want people to take the food.
I know.
Noah was cutting open a can of tomatoes while Tina watched him. Summer was asleep in her arms. The grey light that shone through the blanket of ash outside was fading into a bleak dusk.
Were you alone from the start? Tina asked.
You mean since it happened?
Yeah.
No.
Who was with you?
One of the guys we knew in school.
Who?
I don't remember his name. He looked kind of like you.
What happened?
Bandits. I was faster than him.
Tina shuddered, her arms tightening protectively around Summer's scrawny body. These days, bandit meant hunter, and humans were fair game.
Rachel was with us in the beginning, she said.
Really?
Yeah.
What happened?
I don't know. She was just gone.
She left?
I don't know.
They vacated the house early the next morning. Finn had grabbed five pillowcases from upstairs and used them as sacks, filling them with cans upon cans from the kitchen, taking all that would fit. Then he and Noah each slung two over their shoulders, Tina took one, and Summer carried Finn's bag.
Just before the house was out of their sight, Summer stopped, looking back. Daddy, why do we have to leave?
Because we have to keep going, said Finn.
But why?
We have to go south.
Why?
It's warm there.
How do you know?
I just do.
How far is it?
I don't know.
Are we going the right way?
Yes.
How do you know?
The sun.
You can't see the sun.
But it gets light in the east first.
You can't see the sun.