When I walked out into the devastated landscape, I didn’t find zombies, witches or vampires— what I found was infinitely worse; it was real. Is this our reckoning? Our tormentor is no longer the enemy; it is what’s left of the desperate earth. My neighbors are starving and sick from the biochemicals in the air. Our food, water and meds are running low. Our only hope is to come together to stay alive. Who will lead us to salvation? Certainly not me. Why would it be me? The Army Colonel is driving me nuts. Something is just not right there. He should be the leader of the Village, not me. Can my story have a happily-ever-after? Can it have any kind of ever-after?