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these pamphlets? And how will we get them distributed?”
    “We can make a stamp. Carve one. Not as efficient as a printing press, but it’s something we can do quickly. It will take some effort, but with a stamp, we’ll just have to dip it in the ink and bang, done. Instead of writing out thousands of these with a quill.” Trent smiled at the delicate bird’s-feather quill she had tucked into her belt, dripping ink onto her pants. “Although that is very Shakespeare of you.”
    “I try.” Clarissa laughed and surprised him by going up on her toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.
    “Thank you,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting a kiss.”
    “You’re doing a good thing here,” she said. “Getting everyone on board. To help us. You’re a good man.”
    Trent shook his head. He felt uncomfortable with her praise. His own sister was at the camp, which absolutely made the whole endeavor more selfish than her compliment allowed.
    Would he still be helping them if Annie weren’t at Grand Central?
    He liked to think so. But there was no way to know, for sure.
    Looking at Clarissa, at her strength, her beauty . . . perhaps if she’d come to Letliv and told him what they’d experienced, even if Annie wasn’t a part of it, he’d have been moved to help out.
    For her.

On the Taconic State Parkway South
    EMILY, MASON, AND SAMUEL
    EMILY’S feet hurt. Hell, her whole body hurt, and it had only been two days of walking. Reminded her of how she and Mason had escaped New York City, one step at a time.
    They’d finally found their own little pocket of freedom in their cabin in upstate New York. Giving it up to go back on the road was foolish.
    But even knowing what they were giving up, she had to try. Had to join the people in that coastal town who needed their help. Especially if helping meant fighting Colonel Lanche.
    That man had terrorized her, and would have killed her if she hadn’t escaped first. So yeah. Emily had good reason to want to fight.
    And now was as good a time as any.
    “Let’s camp here for the night,” Mason said, pointing to an abandoned building off the side of the freeway.
    They’d tried traveling at night, thinking it would be safer, but it was so pitch-black outside without any lights except for the moon that moving fast was nearly impossible. So they were back to walking during the day, keeping their eyes open for potential threats.
    None so far, except for the area of highway littered with pamphlets. Pamphlets that had their friend Samuel all fired up, freaking out about the New World Order.
    “What will we do, once we find the Live and Let Live man? Trent?” she asked.
    “We’ll remind him that he radioed for help so he doesn’t shoot us,” Mason said dryly. He sighed. “If we get around forty miles down the Taconic, we should hit Eighty-Four east to take us into Connecticut. We’ll hit the coast and then start following it up until we find him . . . them.”
    “What if is just a him?” Samuel asked. “One man and a radio.”
    “No way,” Emily argued. “Not according to his broadcasts. I have to take him at his word.”
    “We don’t know him,” Samuel said.
    “We didn’t know you , either,” she reminded him. “But we trusted you, and now we’re helping each other. Not everyone is bad in this world. There are still good people.”
    Samuel nodded, shouldering his pack. “I’m sorry. Just exhausted.”
    “Let’s gather some kindling,” Mason said. He looked at her with concern. “How are you doing?”
    “I’m fine.” Emily smiled, not about to complain. The whole thing had been her idea, after all.
    She just hoped that she wasn’t marching them out of their safe haven and into danger.
Grand Central Terminal
    EVAN
    Evan sat in the chair opposite Colonel Lanche. For the first time since he’d been taken to Grand Central, he hadn’t been hit, punched, or shoved. Not for almost a day.
    It was wonderful.
    And all he’d had to do was tell him