He doesn’t respond. But when I scan the skies again and still see nothing, I look over at him. Dakh’s gazing down at me with the most…intense, pleased look on his face. It’s like he’s just enjoying looking at me. It makes me blush and feel shy. When was the last time I felt that? Every time Tate looked at me, I felt ashamed. Every time one of the other soldiers looked at me, they’d jeer at me because they knew I sold myself to Tate. I was trash in their eyes because of what I did to survive. No one’s ever looked at me like I’m the best thing they’ve ever seen.

It feels strangely good.

“What am I looking for?” I prompt again, feeling embarrassed. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, wishing I deserved the intense look he’s giving me at the moment. I’m sure I’m a mess, my hair tangled and my face all bruised up. Of course, he’s a dragon, so I’m not sure why I should care, but I do.

All Dakh does is take my hand again, caressing it. He touches my other arm, the one in the sling. “Ow?”

Is he asking if it’s better today? “It’s fine,” I tell him. “A break takes a while to heal. Though I’m not sure why I’m telling you this other than the fact that I like my own voice. Just feels nice to talk, you know? Even if I do feel silly.”

He nods slowly, as if he understands all this. “Sa-cha…Dakh?” Then he gestures out at the open air again.

Not sure what he’s asking, but I shrug. “Yeah, sure. We can leave any time. I’m fine with that.”

Dakh touches my cheek, and before I can react to that gentle caress, he morphs into his dragon form. A second later, the big, black claws latch around my waist, and then I’m being whisked off the ledge and into the open air.

I’m too terrified to even scream.

Oh my God, how does Claudia do this? I dangle in Dakh’s claws, my hair whipping around my face as he beats his wings, flying higher. I feel completely unsafe. I feel like at any moment, he could drop me and I’d drop a hundred—no, a thousand—feet below and shatter into a million pieces. I cling to Dakh’s claws. “Please don’t drop me!”

In response, the dragon just pulls in his forelegs and cradles me closer to his big, burningly warm chest. That’s something, at least. I hold on to him as tightly as possible, my eyes squeezed shut. I don’t care that his skin’s so hot that it’s scorching my face, or that the wound in my hip is throbbing madly, or that clutching at his scales means that my broken arm is hurting—I’m not letting go for anything. They’ll have to pry me off first.

We seem to fly forever. At least, it feels like forever. Of course, it also feels like an eternity between each gasping breath I take, so I don’t know how long it’s been. Too long. I don’t like flying. Not in the slightest.

Eventually, though, I squeeze one eye open. The ground is still as terrifyingly far below as it was before, and I have to choke back a whimper of distress. But when Dakh wheels about, catching an updraft, I see the tall, broken skyscrapers of Old Dallas far behind us and getting even farther away. That makes me curious. Just where are we going?

Where is he taking me?

And how am I going to get back?

I look up at the big dragon that’s holding me in his claws, but it’s impossible to see much of anything except golden throat, golden wings, and golden scales. In fact, the scales I’m currently pressed against are so hot that it’s like hugging a frying pan. It’s scorching my skin, and I shift against his claws, trying to get comfortable.

He immediately loosens them slightly.

I shriek, holding on. “No! No! Don’t you dare let me go!”

I feel a low rumble move through his belly, and Dakh obligingly tightens his grip around me. The rumble continues, and I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s laughing at my hysterics.

“It’s not funny,” I retort up to him. I want to smack one of the claws gripping me, but I know not to bite the hand that feeds me. I’m not that comfortable with my dragon just yet.

Well, he’s not exactly my dragon, but he’s the dragon I know. I guess that makes him mine, in a way.

We continue to fly on, until the cluster of ruined buildings thin out, and then we’re flying along a highway, heading west with the morning sun at our backs. My muscles start to ache from being clenched with fear, and my wounded arm and hip both throb in unison. It doesn’t look like there’s anywhere to stop, though.

Then I see it. Up ahead, tucked in the trees, there’s a recognizable flat gray roof of a long, enormous building with an equally impressive parking lot. I know what that building is, and we’re so far out of the city that it might be more intact than the stuff near Fort Dallas.

It’s a SuperMart. One of those enormous stores that sells everything from groceries to sporting goods to cookware to televisions to everything in between.

I make a weird little excited noise in my throat at the sight of it. Dakh’s claws tighten around me in an unspoken question, and so I point ahead. “That building. Can we stop there?”

My spirits drop when I remember I’m talking to a dragon that doesn’t understand English, but I’m both surprised and pleased when he lowers, spreading his wings to glide in toward the building. Maybe my excited pointing meant something to him. Either way, it doesn’t matter. I’m thrilled at all the possibilities that the store represents.

I’d never gone scavenging with Claudia, but she told me tons about it. How the stores are looted and trashed, everything useful stripped bare. How she would sift through piles of garbage for hours, looking for a can of tuna that might have been missed, or a package that was unopened. She talked about the stink of the animal corpses when a bird or a rat or a deer would wander into the building and die. Claudia had all kinds of disturbing stories about scavenging in the After.

But I remember shopping in the Before. And I loved it. I’ve been without so many things for so long that I’m practically dizzy at the thought of new clothes or shoes—or heck, a bowl for my food.

Dakh dives down and flaps his wings, landing gracefully in the parking lot. It’s overgrown, and there are still a few broken-down cars scattered in old parking spaces. Rusty shopping carts are scattered and flipped on their sides. Everything’s covered with weeds and dead leaves, but the doors of the SuperMart are intact. Dirty, but intact.

I pat Dakh’s claw, indicating he should put me down now that we’ve landed. He releases me, setting me down gently on the asphalt, and watches, waiting to see what I do. Am I in charge? This feels kind of…backwards. But if that’s the case, I’m going to roll with it because I’m dying to see what’s inside that store. The possibilities have me ridiculously excited, though I’m guessing I’ll have to limit what we take with us since I have no idea where we’re heading next. I smile hesitantly at Dakh and don’t even mind when his big nose pushes against my hair in dragonish affection.