Aura watched the sky. It was ash-gray with smog and there was no sun. The earth beneath her feet was barren and dusty. Burnt sticks of trees stood in the distance. Aura heard the sound of one of them falling, a small quiet boom. She went back inside the shack.

Sierra sat against the wall. She was skinnier than ever, skin pulled tight over bone. Looking at her, Aura found it hard to believe that she was once varsity track. Before, she was athletic and cheerful. Now, her broken leg in its rough cast was slow to heal, and her eyes were dull with resignation. Aura knelt beside her.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Sierra closed her eyes and nodded. "Yes."

Aura went into the cracked yellow tile kitchen and took a tin of peaches. She went back into the living room, squatted beside Sierra, took out her army knife, and cut it open. She offered the tin to Sierra.

Sierra shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

They both knew it was a lie. With a sigh, Aura ate some peaches. The sugar-sweet flavor filled her mouth, providing energy for another day. She offered Sierra the tin again after she ate half, and Sierra this time acquiesced, taking a single peach slice and bringing it to her mouth. It disappeared between her lips and she chewed it slowly.

"Do you want water?" Aura asked.

There was a long silence. Sierra looked at the wall for several moments, her eyebrows furrowed, her lips set in a tense frown. For a moment it seemed almost that she wanted to yell, to shout, to scream, but ultimately the conflict passed, leaving only a bleak look in her eyes. "Yes…thank you."

Aura nodded and went outside. She grabbed the bucket by the door and walked to the well. She hooked the bucket, lowered it—then, she heard the hollow sound of the bucket hitting bottom. When she drew it up, there was only a little water within. Not much; not enough. They need to start moving again. Aura got up, trying to think of where to go. They were aiming for the coast: water, hope. But with Sierra's broken leg,