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Days like this, she wondered why they followed her. She hadn’t exactly led them to freedom and safety. But then, maybe this was as good as it got now.

“We have a decision to make—it’s too big, too important, for me to make it for you. There’s a chance there are survivors in Alaska. There’s a chance the infection hasn’t reached that far. But we don’t know for sure. So we have a choice: we stay as we are, or we try for Alaska.” She paused for a moment, looked around at everyone. Already, she could see something different in their eyes. “For Alaska?”

Most of the twenty hands rose.

How fitting that in the middle of the desert, everyone voted for the oasis. Claire just hoped it wasn’t a mirage.

“All right, then. Let’s get it together.” She jumped down from the 8x8 and went straight for Alice. “I hope you’re right.”

“Me, too,” Alice said with a smirk. “But, in all seriousness, what’s the alternative? Driving around and hoping for the best? At least now you have a goal.”

Claire gathered all the drivers around the news truck: Mikey (the news truck), Carlos (the 8x8), Chase (the Enco truck), Claire herself (the Hummer), and Morgan, whom Claire had asked to take over the ambulance now that it had been dug out of the sand.

“Food’s virtually gone,” Carlos said.

Claire knew that from what Otto had told her last night. She forced herself not to think about the fact that Otto was no longer around to talk to about it. Otto had been the glue that held the convoy together, especially given how good he was with the kids. What would happen—?

She cut the thought off as Carlos went on: “Fuel tanker’s almost empty.”

Speaking of Otto, she’d also had some of the others siphon off gas from the school bus—which was useless to them as a vehicle now—and strip it of its armaments. They were also siphoning gas from the quad bike. Alice even offered some of the fuel she had left from her now trashed bike, which she’d siphoned before coming here.

Mikey said, “I’ve got half a tank of gas—that’s it. And with the added weight…” The news truck had taken on kid duty with the school bus gone.

“We’re running on empty,” Morgan said.

When Carlos prompted him, Chase said, “I don’t even have empty. I got fumes, vapor.” He made a show of sniffing the air. “Parfum de gasoline.”

“So if we’re going to make this trip,” Carlos said, unrolling a wrinkly, beaten-up, half-faded map, “we need to resupply. These are our options.”

He laid the map out on the news truck’s hood. Claire looked down to see a map of Nevada that also had bits of California, Arizona, Utah, Wyoming, and New Mexico in it.

Carlos pointed at Caliente. “Nearest, safest bet is here.”

Alice shook her head. “Tried a month ago—empty.”

Pointing now at Mesquite, Carlos said, “Then here.”

Again, Alice shook her head.

His finger hovering over Yerington, Carlos said, “Maybe—” but cut himself off at a look from Alice.

Claire’s eye, however, caught another city, one she should have thought of in the first place. Well, she had thought of it but dismissed it as too dangerous, but in for a penny, in for a pound.

“Vegas.”

Everyone turned to look at Claire. Most regarded her as if she were insane.

She explained herself. “It’s the only place we’re sure to find gasoline and supplies.”

“There’s a reason for that,” Carlos said. “Vegas is too damn dangerous.”

Chase was shaking his head. “It’s lousy with them mothers.”

Claire took a breath. “If we’re going to go for Alaska, we’re gonna need a lot of gasoline. And we’ve sucked every small-town pump dry over the last six months. We have to hit a big city again.”

“She’s right,” Alice said. “Vegas is our best bet.”

Mikey looked scared but resolved. Chase and Morgan looked resigned. Carlos still looked as if he thought Claire and Alice both needed to be locked up.

Finally, Carlos lowered his head. “Fine. Desperate times, and all that other bullshit.”

“Works for me,” Chase said. “Let’s saddle up!”

They all moved to their respective vehicles. Claire