Chapter 19

Jiang Shan could only squeeze into a corner. The cargo bed was completely sealed off from the cab; they could only see each other through very thick glass, and it seemed they couldn’t even hear each other speak.
Then the engine started—and she realized she had been naive.
The driver might have driven bumper cars before. He had no sense of road safety. He ran over every bump and rock; the wheels might as well have left the ground. He didn’t care.
Jiang Shan had survived every “thrill” of the trip—she hadn’t expected to be shaken to bits in this beat-up truck.
Wei Yuan, meanwhile, gripped a bar in the back and had wedged his wheelchair between two drums as if he were used to this.
She was dizzy and battered, but she realized she wasn’t nauseous—as if she hadn’t felt sick in a long time.
The truck drove on without stopping until dark. Jiang Shan saw a red moon through the open back.
She had heard only the apocalypse brought a red moon. Later she realized it was the tinted glass.
Then her stomach growled—at the worst possible time.
The truck was loud, the engine straining as if on its last gasp.
Only Wei Yuan in the back heard the growl. He looked up at her slowly.
Jiang Shan didn’t move, but she turned her face away to hide her expression.
Wei Yuan turned his wheelchair toward the corner, felt around for something, then drew back his hand. He was holding something.
He wheeled to her side and held it out. “Eat this.”
She looked up. A vacuum-packed sandwich. She slowly raised her hands—they were in gloves now, the blackened fingers hidden.
She took the sandwich. Even through the gloves it felt hard as a brick. The plastic was tight around the food; one end looked a bit dark.
Was this even still good?
Wei Yuan said: “This is all we have. Make do.”
She didn’t yet understand what “make do” meant. But to eat she would have to take off her helmet—and they treated her like poison. Would they allow it?
In the cab, Zhao Ying had been peeking through the glass at the back. She saw Jiang Shan take the food. Panic crossed her face.
The others noticed and turned to look.
Wei Yuan shook his head at them. Something passed between their eyes. Finally he said: “Pull down the window curtain. It’ll be fine.” Besides, the return trip would take at least ten days to two weeks. They couldn’t keep Jiang Shan from eating.
The others clearly didn’t want to, but they had to obey. Zhao Ying gritted her teeth and pulled down a dark curtain. The only window to the cab was covered.
Jiang Shan: “…”
Wei Yuan looked at her again and said quietly: “Take off your helmet.”
She looked at him. He didn’t even wear a suit, and he was in the same space as her, not avoiding contact.
She unzipped the suit and pulled off the heavy glass helmet.
She was starving. The moment the helmet was off she tore open the package and took a bite.
The sandwich was salty and hard—but she ate it with something like relief, as if she hadn’t had anything so good in a long time.