Cory put her hands to her face. She was covered with layers of gauze, and she tore at it, layer after layer shedding in her hands as she hurried onward.

The rocks in the path were bones and grinning skulls. This was what she had been stumbling over, and what her dress had been catching on. Panicked, she looked up.

Five years after a deadly plague killed all the Grown-ups,... (read more)