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I. When You're Lost in the Darkness
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ELLIE. Is he always such a grouch? TANYA. Sure is.
Gravel crunched underfoot, skittered across the pavement. The whisk of brooms cut the dull chatter on the street. Some folks lingered and watched the goings-on in the QZ; folks who couldn't work, who'd lost their limbs to bullets and their health to disease or old age. They told the best stories, and harbored some of the worst.
An older man sat on the sidewalk, leaning on the armrest of a plastic folding chair. He kept a cane propped up against the arm of the chair and a smile on his weather-beaten face. Some of the younger people called him "Old Joe." He bore the name with pride.
"Hey, Tanya." He was gesturing to her, motioning her closer. "Got a minute?"
Tanya lifted her head, leaned on the broom in her hands. "For you, Joe? I've got all the time in the world."
She crossed the street and made herself busy sweeping a nonexistent pile of dust. Old Joe chuckled from his plastic folding chair. "Were you always such a rule-follower?"
"Before the outbreak? Sure." Tanya smiled. "Right now, I just don't want FEDRA on my ass."
Old Joe leaned closer. "You know how to get any good wine? I could trade ya for it."
