Ruins

The streets of Norwalk were a deep metal canyon, just like Manhattan had been, but now there was frost on the deep-green kudzu that covered the buildings and crept in through the long-broken windows. She held out as long as she could, enduring the cold in silence, but finally decided that it wasn’t worth it—getting to Long Island one day or even one hour earlier wouldn’t do her any good if she died of hypothermia. At the next clothing store they passed, Kira led them in and they searched for heavy coats, but there were none to be found anywhere in the building.

“I guess the Break came in the summer,” said Kira. “Nobody’s stocked for this kind of weather.” She paused. “That never occurred to me before, but I guess I’ve never needed a coat before.”

Green shook his head, looking out the broken windows at the dark-gray clouds. “When was the last time you remember it being this cold?”

“Never,” Kira admitted. She recalled Vale’s wistful thoughts about the old winters, the real winters, and shivered. “Do you think it’ll last?”

“If it does, we might even see snow.” Green turned back from the window. “We need to find a hardware store—they’ll have work gloves at least, which is better than nothing, and then maybe a furniture store so we can burn some tables for warmth. I don’t want to cross the sound until this clears up.”

“What makes you think it’s going to clear up?”

“We haven’t had a storm like this in my entire life,” said Green. “Weather patterns that long-standing don’t reverse overnight. We might get a freak storm, but that’ll be it.”

“I hope you’re right.” Kira hopped down from the counter where she’d been sitting and walked back out into the frigid street. The wind had picked up, and blew her hair wildly around her head. “You know where to find a hardware store?”

“No idea. Seems more likely outside of town than in it, though.”

“That means backtracking,” said Kira. “There’s nothing ahead of us but the city and the sound.”

Green shook his head. “I don’t want to backtrack—we’re better off finding a boat and sitting out the storm in the building nearest to it. Then as soon as things are back to normal, we can jump in and race across the water.”

Kira nodded. “Keep your eyes open for parks, playgrounds, and schools. Anywhere with grounds had groundskeepers, which means they’ll have a shed or a garage somewhere with tools and work gloves.”

“Clever.”

“You know how to find maps, I know how to find gardening tools. My adopted mother was an herbalist.” The thought of Nandita quelled her cheerful mood. Nandita had helped create Kira, she knew everything about her, and yet she’d never said a word. Why? Why deceive her? Had she just hoped that the problems would all go away on their own, and that Kira would grow up and grow old and die, and never have to face the truth about who she was and where she came from? If she’d really cared, thought Kira, she’d have given me something to go on. Some help or guidance or advice that would help me to deal with all of this. She would have told me what I was built for, and why, and what I was supposed to do.

With a flash she remembered an old conversation—nearly two years ago now, one of the last times she’d ever seen Nandita before the old woman disappeared. Kira had just come home from the salvage run in Asharoken, the one where they’d triggered a bomb, and Nandita was putting away her herbs. I was troubled about something, thought Kira, probably the bombing, and Nandita said . . . Kira shook her head in disbelief, the words flooding back to her. She said exactly what I needed to hear—not then, but now. Every life has a purpose, Kira. But the most important thing you can ever know is that no matter what your purpose is, that’s not your only choice.

“Groundskeeper,” said Green. Kira looked up and saw a large brick building, the white gabled roof now cracked and yellowing with age; all around it was a wide green lawn, now overgrown with bushes and weeds and a loose forest of ten-year-old trees. There was a sign buried in the middle of the foliage, but it was too vine-choked to read.

“Looks like a government building,” said Kira. “City hall or something. They don’t always have groundskeeping equipment on site, because they handled all their properties from a central location.”