The cold in the Deadlands was different. It didn't just freeze your skin; it settled in your bones like a heavy stone.
Three days had passed since the rescue. Three days of rationing food. Three days of watching the fuel gauge on the generator drop toward zero.
I stood in the nursery tent, wrapping a third blanket around a shivering toddler named Sam. His lips were blue.
"I’m cold, Luna," he whispered, his teeth chattering.
"I know, baby," I said, rubbing his small arms to generate heat. "We're working on it. Just hold on."
Outside the tent, the wind howled through the ravine, carrying toxic dust that coated everything in grey.
From the past few days, I’ve been feeling slightly dizzy and restless, and I don’t know why. Maybe I’m overthinking… Right now, Celeb needs me, the ki
