Chapter Eight
Half of the jail remained standing. A diagonal line cut across the building. On one side stood cracked walls and splintered windows, on the other was empty space. The sun was setting behind Cherry, throwing the exposed interior of the building into sharp divisions of long shadows and rosy light.
She looked around her. No movement of any living thing disturbed the desolate tableau of the ravaged city. If the Guardian was out there somewhere, it was hiding.
Cherry turned on the light on the haz suit’s helmet. She swept the darkening cityscape with its beam, checking again for movement. All was still.
The jail stood in a built up area of Oceanside where no greenery decorated the streets, but despite the lack of evidence Cherry guessed the area was within the dead zone. Her s
