No matter what, Elva had to reach her sister’s apartment. Even from this perch on the Brooklyn Bridge, several miles from her destination, she could see her target. Its window was dark, but Elva’s powered-up eyes could still make out a wall quilted with childish drawings, a cheerful pile of…

It was surprising the email even got there, what with all the electromagnetic disruptions that came with the apocalypse. But there it was, blinking in Elana’s inbox like a star in a world that no longer had them. She shrieked, leaping up from the vintage laptop her father had jury-rigged…