The four of us sit around a small round table in the tiny kitchen that makes up half of the ranger station.

The building has been made mostly livable. There’s a small area near the front door with a loveseat and a spinning display of brochures, but other than that it’s essentially a home. I imagine rangers were stationed out here for weeks or months at a time, living on site so as to be available for any issues that arose among the campers.

Fresh coffee steams in mugs before three of us, the kid having declined any. Apparently, if it doesn’t come with frothed foam, he’s not interested.

My body, on the other hand, is desperate to fulfill my caffeine addiction via whatever means necessary—even if it’s year-old instant coffee.

Outside, the first drops of the storm begin to patter against the windows.

Mina clears her throat. “So, as I mentioned before, my brother and I have been staying here. It’s been about three days now. After the first few days, it became pretty clear to us that staying in the city would be a death trap.”

The kid is slouched back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes flick between Mina and Yuichi as she talks.

Yuichi shoots him an irritated glare.

Ah, youth.

“Yes,” I say, sipping my coffee gingerly, enjoying the warmth from the mug as much as the drink itself. “We came to the same conclusion. It was a difficult decision. Food is obviously more plentiful in the city, but there are also a lot more people there.”

Mina nods. “Luckily, there’s quite a bit of food in the pantry here. Enough that we’ll be okay for a few weeks. And it seems relatively quiet too. You two are the first we’ve come across.” She frowns, her eyes dropping to her mug.

“Is that so,” I say.

I look between them. Yuichi is staring off at the coat rack now, one heel tapping anxiously beneath the table. The circles under his eyes are dark.

There’s dirt under Mina’s nails—stark against the diner-white mug she clutches. An unexpected contrast to the fact that her hair is meticulously brushed back into a ponytail. She even bothered to put on makeup. While living with her brother. In the woods. During the apocalypse.

“Were you two together when you manifested your powers?”

Mina looks up, somewhat surprised by my question, though not completely taken aback.

“Uh, no. No,” Mina says. “I was on campus—studying in the library. Yuichi was home alone at the time.”

She glances at him then, her expression tightening for just a moment before she looks back to me.

“But as soon as things started getting crazy, I went to find him. It was bad for me—it hurt, like every nerve in my body was on fire.” Her voice softens. “But it was worse for Yuichi.”

“I thought my body was tearing itself apart.”

Yuichi’s voice is low and steady, but his eyes are far away now, reliving the moment he thought he’d died.

Mina reaches over to place a reassuring hand on his. “When I found him, the house was coming down around him. I barely managed to get him out before it collapsed.”

I nod, one hand rubbing at the shadow that’s grown in over the last week. I cast a glance toward the kid, but he’s staring a hole into the table now—no doubt remembering his own traumatic awakening.

Images of my own awakening flash through my mind. White-hot agony splitting my skull, the urge to gouge my eyes out to relieve the pressure. Blood dripping from my nose. My mouth. My ears. My eyes. Feeling like my entire body was being liquefied from the inside out.

“Yeah… it was pretty rough for us too,” I say finally. “But it sounds like you kids had it worse. I thought mine was just a really bad migraine. And Cliff here”—I gesture to the kid—“was knocked cold by debris when his neighbor blew the walls out of his apartment. I found him half-buried but still alive. Took me half a day to dig him out.” I smile. Small. Reassuring.

Under the table, the kid’s knee brushes mine.

Of course, that wasn’t the whole truth. But the particulars of our origin stories—or how we met—don’t seem to be what actually matter right now.

Mina’s nails tap lightly against the table, matching the rain drumming harder against the windowpanes. “So, neither of you had really bad side effects from your awakenings?”

I raise a brow. “I had a particularly bad nosebleed. But no—nothing super special. Why? Is that important?”

Mina chews on her bottom lip. Her eyes flick to her brother, and it’s as if a silent agreement passes between them. Almost in unison, they both relax. Mina lets out a breath, and Yuichi’s posture loosens as he leans back and crosses one leg over the other.

“That’s a relief!” Mina says, and for the first time her smile actually reaches her eyes. “You see, we have a theory. I don’t have much to go off, but I believe that the stronger the side effects someone experienced when they awakened, the stronger their powers are.”

My other brow rises to join the first. “So, then Yuichi here—”

Mina is already nodding. “Yes. My brother’s power is quite strong. That said, many others awakened with strong abilities as well. I, on the other hand, am not as strong. And from what you said, it sounds like you two are also…”

“Weak,” I say flatly.

“Well—”

“Yes,” Yuichi cuts in. “Compared to me, you’re weak.”

I swallow the urge to accidentally spill my coffee on him. Luckily, it seems the kid ignores the provocation as well.

Good boy.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Mina says quickly, as if to stop the moment from tipping the wrong way. “We were actually wary of getting close to anyone who was too strong. So… we’re relieved you two aren’t like that.”

She hesitates, fingers tightening slightly around her mug. Her gaze flicks to her brother before returning to us.

“If I’m right about what’s happening to the world,” she continues more carefully, “the people who awakened with the strongest abilities are the first to lose control.”

Her voice drops.

“And when that happens, they tend to turn into senseless killing machines.”

My mug hits the table harder than I intend.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “What?”