7
Here, where the world is quiet;
Here, where all trouble seems
Dead winds’ in the spent waves’ riot
In doubtful dreams of dreams.
—“The Garden of Proserpine”
by Charles Algernon Swinburne
Caroline watched out the window of the SUV as Lincoln drove them into an outdoor shopping mall complex. There were dozens of abandoned cars and storefronts with broken windows, but this one didn’t look as savaged as other parts of Omaha.
“Strip malls are usually better for supplies. People forget them because they’re farther out,” Lincoln said as he parked the car amid the abandoned vehicles.
“Why park here?” she asked.
“I don’t want anyone passing by to notice us. We want people to think this is just one of the abandoned cars out here,” he explained and held out her backpack. She slung it arou
