Page 52 of What Remains

A base outside the city would allow them to scout and resupply without walking directly into a million-person graveyard. If the ranch still stood, it offered a secure place to regroup before risking anything downtown.

Jay waved Josie over, and she jogged across the lot, pulling her scarf tighter against the growing wind.

"Everything okay?"

Jay unfolded the atlas across the hood of the truck. "You said your parents live between Denver and Boulder. What are the chances we hole up there first?"

She blinked, caught off guard. "You mean before going into the city?"

"If it's defensible."

"If it's still there," Seth added.

Josie looked down at the map, tracing familiar highways with a gloved finger until it landed on a tiny, almost unnoticeable county road. "It actually makes more sense than I want to admit." She tapped the map. "You take Highway Thirty-Six until here, then a gravel road for about four miles."

Jay studied the route. "Anything around it?"

She shook her head. "Mostly other ranches and open fields. A couple of neighbors, but nothing you'd call close—not unless two miles counts." She smiled at some private memory. "My dad hated people."

Seth gave a slow, understanding nod. "Sounds like he knew what he was doing."

Her smile widened. "The property backs onto rolling hills. One road in, one road out."

A look of relief crossed Jay's face. "Natural choke point."

"Exactly. My dad built most of the fencing himself, and there's a private well on the property. The only real drawback is how open it is."

Jay caught Seth's eye, seeing his own relief mirrored there. A private well alone made the trip worthwhile—no fighting over municipal water, no dependence on infrastructure that had already failed elsewhere.

"Sounds like our first stop," Jay said.

"I think you're making the right call," Josie said, her voice softening. "If they're there, they'll help. My parents aren't the kind to turn people away."

"And if they're not?" Seth asked.

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the map. "Then at least we'll know."

A heavy silence settled over the hood of the truck. Jay folded the map with slow, deliberate movements. No one spoke the obvious alternative.

Behind them, Layla tugged on Josie's sleeve. "Mommy... I have to pee."

Cara laughed, the tension breaking for a moment. "Well," she said, "that's a problem none of us can solve for you, kiddo."

Josie offered an apologetic smile. "Give me a minute."

She led Layla toward a cluster of pine trees bordering the property, and Cara instinctively shifted to keep them covered. Jay returned to the map. Seth capped another gas can. The wind picked up, and snowflakes fell thicker now, clinging to the cold metal of the abandoned equipment.

A minute later, Layla's tiny voice carried through the trees.

"Mommy?"

"What, sweetheart?"

"There are people in the trees."

Josie answered absently, still helping with the girl's coat. "Probably squirrels, baby."

"No..." Layla sounded genuinely confused, her small voice dropping. "The people are looking at us."