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Slinging his rifle to leave both hands free for magic, he then pushed the door open and stepped inside. The air was stale and musty except for a sweet smell of something rotting. He immediately recognized the odor-garbage not emptied for a few days.

He glanced up the stairs, and then walked slowly toward the kitchen, glancing into the living room and dining area as he did. There was no movement. Only silence.

In the kitchen, he found evidence of activity. The cabinets had been looted, and it was obvious that most of the canned and nonperishable foods were gone. He immediately turned and rushed past Seeks-the-Moon, then bounded up the stairs.

In Beth's room, he found the dresser drawers hanging open, with various items of clothing half hanging out of them. He searched through the piles on the floor and what was still in the drawers. Satisfied, he dashed back downstairs again and into Natalie's room. Her clothes were similarly strewn about, and Kyle searched through them too. When he'd confirmed his suspicion, he stood up to find Seek-the-Moon staring at him from the doorway.

“They're not here,” Kyle said, slightly out of breath. "But they were."

Seeks-me-Moon nodded. "I saw the kitchen."

Kyle shook his head. "That could have been anyone. But some of their clothes are gone too. None of Natalie's underwear is here, and only some of Beth's is upstairs. They obviously packed before leaving."

"Ah," said Seeks-the-Moon, shaking his head as he walked toward the living room.

"What?" Kyle asked loudly, but got no reply.

Looking down at the mess of clothes and toys, he felt a wave of relief at the signs that Beth and Natalie had been here and gone elsewhere. Beyond the lines to safety, he hoped, though he'd seen nothing to tell him that.

"Kyle," Seeks-the-Moon called out from the front of the house. "There's a message here for you."

Kyle rushed out into the hall and into the living room.

Seeks-the-Moon was pointing at an easel that had been propped up against the far wall. It bore a large pad of plain white paper on which a message had been written in green crayon. It read:

Kyle-

We're fine! We're going with Ellen and some of her friends to find a safe place to stay. I'll come back and leave a message when we know where we'll be. We're safe!

Beth

It was dated five days ago.

Kyle, suddenly unable to stand, collapsed onto the couch. He'd never warned Beth about her sister, and now she and Natalie had gone for safety with people who were quite possibly the very creatures that had the city living in fear.

He read the message again, and men a third time, before he buried his face in his hands and wept.

25

The stores and homes along Irving Park Road, from Lake Michigan out to the Des Plaines River, had been dynamited or bulldozed to mark the northern edge of the Chicago Containment Zone. Beyond the piles of debris, backed by powerful searchlights on makeshift towers, sat elements of Eagle Security, the Illinois National Guard, and the United Canadian and American States Army.

The lights cut bright slices through the night air and played across the wide open area that had been a main street, picking out the desperate and foolhardy as they tried to sneak or dash across the exposed area. As he watched the roving searchlights, Kyle wondered if the fugitives truly believed they'd find sanctuary or reprieve when they reached the barricades. From what he could see, they found neither, Anyone who made it across was forcibly subdued by men in heavy combat armor and unceremoniously escorted back the way he'd come.

Sometimes, depending on exactly who made it across, the troopers would open up with tear gas or stun rounds until the transgressor retreated. Sometimes, as testified by the occasional limp body on or near the barricade, the offender was simply shot. Kyle noted that almost invariably, of the half-dozen or so he'd seen while walking the line from Ashland to Sheridan, the dead were orks or trolls. The troopers were afraid these people might actually be able to get past the wall of debris.

There were thousands, maybe tens of thousands, gathered along the line. They were packed and stacked deep into the side streets that intersected the demarcation line. People were camped where they could, others overrunning and occupying houses. Most simply slept in any empty spot, atop what worldly possessions they dared carry with them. People shouted, argued, and cried as the spotlights panned over them and the helicopters roared overhead. Through powerful speakers, the soldiers ordered the people to pull back. The government wanted them to go home, but they couldn't- they had nowhere to go. Their homes were infested.

Draped in a bright yellow rain poncho he'd pulled from Beth's closet, Kyle walked the line, searching carefully through the side streets, looking for Beth and Natalie. He showed pictures of them to anyone who would stop and listen. Most just stared back at him glassy-eyed. Some cursed him in the name of one of their own lost loved ones. A few smiled sympathetically and looked at the pictures. But no one had seen the child or her mother. Seeks-the-Moon was busy doing the same.

It had been raining since sundown, and one man fought another for the right to have his child sleep under the eaves of a building. Finally someone yelled out that the men should just let the children sleep together. They agreed, for now-the rain was only light.

There were gunshots two blocks or so over, small-caliber, not the army. Moving among the refugees and showing his pictures, Kyle wondered briefly what might have caused it. A rumor spread like lightning-the government was dropping food over the line down near the lake. There was a rush. People gathering up what they could and then taking off east toward the lakeshore.

Maybe there'd be food there, maybe it was rumor. They couldn't take the chance. Kyle let the tide of people flow around him. If Beth and Natalie were there he'd never find them now. His best hope was that the group she'd hooked up with had staked a claim to some space nearby, though with the line so close to her actual apartment it would have made more sense for Natalie to stay home. Kyle and Seeks-the-Moon had found enough food in the house, even with what had been stolen, to last about a week if rationed. Beth and Natalie could have hidden there until he came for them. But they hadn't. Instead they'd gone looking for safety somewhere else.

Just then there was a commotion behind him. A little group of men and women were gathered in the debris that was all that remained of a store on the south side of the street, opposite the barricades. They were tense, agitated, and kept glancing toward the line of troops. Kyle looked too, and saw the troopers' attention on the flow of people eastward. They were distracted, and in that moment the small group of men and women rushed the barricade.

Kyle almost screamed out in warning and had to choke back the power that rose inside him, but the concussion grenades were already detonating. A water hose started up on one of the towers and it tore into the group just as they reached the barricade. Several were stopped cold or went limping away after the grenade blasts. The rest stormed the barricade.

They were not unprepared. A pair of smoke grenades lighted, filling the area quickly with green haze. There were gunshots from this side of the barricade as well; snipers from the southside debris. They were light, but accurate- Kyle saw one group of guards pinned down by the shots. A portion of the barricade began to move as the people tore at it, ignoring the growing fusillade of stun rounds being fired blindly into the smoke.

Then, the helicopter was overhead. A jet black Hughes Stallion with its huge rotor downwash and powerful searchlight. The smoke dissipated as fast as it came, and suddenly the people began to fall, clutching at their knees and thighs. Somewhere on the line a government sniper was systematically disabling them. Within moments, under obvious fire from the watchtowers and the sniper, they began to haltingly withdraw, dragging most of their fallen behind them. Kyle saw blood on the street. Not all the rounds were gel.