Rayne lay panting on the withered grass for a minute, then sat up and wiped her streaming eyes. The house smouldered under a column of black smoke, reduced to rubble and charred beams, and deep craters surrounded it. Whoever had attacked her had tried to ensure she would not survive. She scanned the sky for the scarlet saucer, but it was innocent of alien ships. Nevertheless, she rose and moved into the shadow of the neighbouring house, flopping down next to the wall.
Rayne recuperated until some strength seeped back into her limbs, then stood up, wincing. Her leg wounds twinged with every step as she limped along the street, keeping a wary eye on the sky as well as the houses. She had given up wondering why an alien ship would want to kill her; it made no sense. Vagrants emerged from other houses to gape and point at the smouldering ruin. Rayne hoped the aliens thought she was dead.
When she reached the meeting place, she stumbled into the grove of dead trees and collapsed. Her brother’s absence brought a fresh wave of despair and loneliness. She longed for his comforting presence and needed his help to bind her wounds. The trees hid her from prying eyes, but hunger gnawed at her. She crawled over to the rock under which Rawn always stashed extra food, found a treasure trove of nutrition bars and wolfed down the chewy, orange-flavoured concentrate.
While she ate, she pondered her situation. Staying in one place was dangerous, even within the grove’s concealment. Some raiders had noses as keen as dogs. Rawn must have gone in search of her, and she hoped he returned before someone else found her. Tiredness made her limbs and eyelids leaden, and she curled up on the leaves.
Late afternoon sunlight slanting between the dead trees woke Rayne. After eating more food bars, she examined her grazed, sooty palms, picking out a few splinters. The risk of infection was high in such a polluted environment, so she stripped and washed in a stream that chuckled over rocks nearby. She emerged shivering and, after scrubbing her leggings, wrapped herself in the blankets she and Rawn stored in a hollow log and lighted a fire.
The wounds in the back of her calves were easy enough to reach, and she removed several more splinters, but she could only examine the ones in the back of her thighs by touch. By the time she finished, twilight filled the grove with shadow, and she lay down by the fire for another lonely night. At least she was safer in the country.