“SEE THAT COURTYARD just east of the library? That’s our landing zone,” said Roman, slowing us to a near hover, beginning to lower altitude.
I watched as the helicopter’s shadow grew on the wild, waving grass.
“Again: when you hit dirt I want you to go immediately to the street—5th Avenue, right there, and follow it south-west. Stay close to the buildings, they’ll give you some cover. Get ready.”
“From predators?” asked Joan, our mechanic, her voice full of doubt. It was her first time out of the compound with us.
“From people,” said Roman. “They’ve been known to snipe from the towers.” We touched down with a slight bounce—tall grass lashing at the windows. “Remember, right on Marion ... then all the way to 1st—to the Exchange Building. You can’t miss it: there’s a Starbucks across the
