”Where are we going?” Leah asked, glancing over at the driver.
The tiger didn't respond at first. Instead, he reached a paw out to press the button that put the top down on the convertible. The rush of wind whipped through blonde hair and orange fur alike. Thick snowflakes fell around them, piling up on either side of the street but not even touching the car or its passengers.
They were speeding along the streets of New York City, passing Madison Square Garden and Grand Central, Liberty Island visible in the distance. There was no traffic – there weren't any people around to make any traffic – and the infected were content to ignore them completely. It was quiet but for the sound of “Black Velvet” playing on the radio.
“Someplace better than here. Someplace safer,” the tiger finally answered in his rumbling voice.
“Sing Sing?” The tiger's expression was enough of an answer to that. “Not Sing Sing. Then where? And my family, will they be there, too?” This time, she couldn't read the tiger's expression, but she knew better than to repeat her question.
The silence pressed in upon them, suffocatingly thick, and Leah began to feel afraid. Her glance went to the door and she entertained the idea of making a jump for it, escaping before they could reach their destination. The road was on fire, though. Not just on fire, but made of molten lava. The car remained intact, unburned, but everything around them – buildings, abandoned vehicles, zombies – they were all set alight.
Leah coughed, choking on black smoke and ash. All around, she could hear the familiar and comforting voices of her family, but she couldn't see them. Couldn't find them. Couldn't call out to them. She turned her head to look at the driver, and the beast's eyes flared the same color as the lava they were surrounded by.
“This place is death,” the tiger growled.
Leah returned to the waking world, inhaling a sharp breath at the same time her eyes snapped open. Another recurring nightmare she'd had ongoing for the past several weeks. As unsettling as it always was, she knew it was normal. A too vivid dream that she couldn't get rid of.
Light poured over her shoulder, and she rolled over to see Evan sitting up in bed, reading. “Trying to find a middle name that goes with Julia?” She asked, managing a half-smile as she shifted position again and sat up. Because although she'd tossed around a few names, she had a strong feeling that Evan was attached to the idea of using his mother's name, and she didn't mind.