She was breathing hard. Running as fast as her legs could carry her. And there was a very good reason for that. Right on her tail, there was a worm with more teeth than she could count, but then she wasn't that good at counting anymore. She was very good at drawing and writing, but basic math wasn't her strong point. The number of teeth probably didn't matter—either way, she was being hunted down.

BAM!

She squealed at the loud noise, panting into her mask, her goggles fogging from perspiration. When she risked a glance back she stopped in her tracks. The worm was dead. Green blood spattered a wrecked car, its windows shattered, as well as the sidewalk. The creature lay limply on the ground and . . . was it smoking?

She turned and ran away as fast as she could. She didn't want to know what had killed the worm. What if it killed her?

"Calm . . . down . . ." she gasped to herself. "Think . . . positive . . . and don't . . . die . . ." She held tight onto her backpack straps and broke into a sprint, ducking into a collapsed alleyway and scooting into the corner. She sucked in air, catching her breath. To calm herself, she pulled out a book with the words Harry Potter printed on the cover. She flipped open to a page and read the first thing that she saw: "Harry—yer a wizard."

She smiled. Books always took her mind off of things. Drawing books, writing books, story books—she always had three in her trusty backpack. A sketchbook, a notepad and a novel. Sometimes she had more. She'd gotten pretty strong from always carrying those things around, which came in handy for, say, running away from giant mutated worm monsters. In another pocket, there was a stainless steel mechanical pencil, a fine tip pen and an eraser. The eraser was small, she was running out of lead and ink, but occasionally she would find some more. Usually from an old Staples store.

She snapped her book shut as the sound of footsteps crunching through the wreckage came to her ears. Another worm? In the alley, there'd be nowhere to run. She stuffed the book back in the bag, pulled out a battered stuffed cat and hugged it to herself.

"It's okay, Thing," she whispered to it. "It'll go away, soon. It'll go away. . ." She closed her eyes and was silent, doing her best not to whimper until the footsteps passed.

"What was that, Thing?" she asked her toy when the noise faded away. "Was that a person?"

The toy stared back at her with its blue plastic eyes.

She sighed and stood, brushing dust off her green cargo pants. When she turned to look behind her, she saw the back of an antique store. She shivered as an icy wind blew through the barren alleyway.

"Come on, Thing," she murmured. "Let's get out of the cold."

She grabbed her things and opened up the back door, slipping inside with barely a squeak from the splintered floorboards. Hardly anything was intact, as expected. Nothing was left of the furniture but ash. However, in the corner she spotted something—a box of records and a gramophone. She tiptoed up to the records and picked one up. The only other time she had seen one of these was on a trip to the museum, back when there were many people and she'd had a name.

She brushed the ash from it. It appeared to be relatively unscathed. The faded words Cab Calloway stared up at her from the sticker in the middle. Curious, she walked over to the gramophone, put the record on it, put the pin down and turned the crank. Tinny sounds began to squawk from the horn on top of it. They had a distinct rhythm to them and brought back vague memories of hazy summer nights, when it wasn't so cold and dark all the time. A voice began talking in a funny way, the pitch sliding up and down.

Oh. Music.

"It's been such a long time," she said, smiling a little. "Hasn't it, Thing?"

She clutched the stuffed cat to herself and began humming along to the tune, swaying back and forth. Eventually, she forgot about turning the crank and skipped out of the wreckage of the building, dancing with her cat and singing at the top of her lungs.

"Well, it don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swiiiiiiiing!" Spinning in joyous circles, she continued to dance until she toppled helplessly over, laughing at the sky.

CRUNCH!

Music and dancing forgotten, she sat up quickly. "Who's there?!"

She turned her head and found herself staring at the point of a sword—a rather sharp one at that.

"Hands up!"

Her gaze travelled upwards. In front of her stood a girl with long, messy black hair, a thick canvas jacket and a very angry look, brandishing a sword at her.

"Why?" she asked innocently.

The other girl's expression darkened further as she groaned. "I'm robbing you, you idiot! Hands up!"

"I haven't got anything," she said, rubbing her cold fingers. "I ate the last of my food."

"Then give me your mask."

"No. I'll get radiation poisoning."

"Open your bag."

She slipped her arms out of the straps and unzipped it. The black-haired girl peered in expectantly, but then her face fell. "Books? You're saying that's all you've got?"

"And Thing," she said, holding up her stuffy. "Isn't that right, Thing?"

The other girl rolled her eyes. "Wonderful. Another one gone batty."

She stood and zipped up her bag. "I'm not crazy!"

"Are you sure?" the girl asked, spinning her epee in her fingers. "Are you sure that being alone for all this time, coupled with frolicking in a bed of radiation, hasn't driven you insane?"

"No! Of course not! Isn't that right, Thing?"

The other girl sighed. "I really shouldn't be having anything to do with you. Goodbye." She turned and started to walk away.

"Wait!" She ran up to her and stopped her, spreading her arms wide. "What's your name?"

The girl sighed again. "I suppose it doesn't matter, since you're not at all dangerous. I'm Aderyn."

She grinned. "Hi! I'm. . ." She paused, her brow furrowed behind her aviator goggles. "Um. . . w-what's my name again?" She looked upwards at the permanently cloudy sky, nose wrinkled in concentration.

"You are very, very sad," said Aderyn.

"No, I'm not!" she retorted, defensive.

"You can't even remember your own name."

"I can read really well, though," she said. "And write and draw. What can you do?"

Aderyn was looking increasingly uncomfortable with this turn of events. "I . . . I fence."

"I can't fight at all, but I'm pretty good at running and hiding."

She tried to push past her, all patience seemingly gone. "Move."

She grabbed onto her legs and Aderyn promptly tumbled into a large pile of snow.

"Watch it!" she snapped, shaking the white powder out of her dark hair. "Leave me alone!"

She gave her a pleading look. "You're the first person I've seen in. . . in. . . I'm not sure how long. I'm not keeping track, anymore."

Aderyn tried to kick out from her position in the snow. "Let go!"

Relenting, she sat back on her hands and sighed. "Can you help me find my name, at least?"

A blank stare. "I'm sorry?"

"My name! I've lost it and I can't find it again! Will you help me?"

"In your dreams." Her legs now free, Aderyn floundered in the snow bank.

Her eyes narrowed behind the lenses of her goggles. "I'll sic Thing on you if you don't help! And I won't stop bothering you!"

She succeeded in getting to a sitting position. "Fine. Fine. As long as you leave me alone."

"Thanks!" she said with a grin. She stood up. "Let's find some food, too. I'm hungry."

"Get used to it," said Aderyn as she got to her feet. "We're in the same boat. Besides, the deal was that I help you find your name, not food."

"That's okay, I know where some food is. C'mon!" She skipped away, hugging Thing and singing "Soft Kitty" loudly. The sound echoed between the crumbling skyscrapers and concrete buildings.

Aderyn followed gloomily behind at a trudge.

The two of them soon reached a very large shopping mall, and the she ran inside without any regard whatsoever for its stability. Aderyn paused for a minute, listening, but when she didn't hear the sounds of things breaking or squeals of pain, she followed with caution. She found the girl inside, sitting on a beanbag chair and munching a sandwich. Her gas mask was off, revealing her to be a lot younger than she had initially thought. She looked about seventeen, as opposed to the twenty-something she'd been thought to be. Aderyn looked at her questioningly, and she pointed to a large freezer in the corner.

She swallowed and grinned, displaying slightly crooked teeth, but for some reason it looked playful, rather than vulgar. "The plastic preserved them," she said, holding up her sandwich.

Aderyn tilted her head, surprised. "No radiation here?"

"No clue!" She took another bite out of her sandwich, chewing with gusto. Swallowing, she said, "But it was one of the bigger ones, so . . . probably."

Her expression shifted to one of annoyance. "You're not very smart, are you?"

She looked insulted. "To the contrary. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I'm not one hundred percent sure of the safety of this particular area, but not dying is more important than not going insane."

Aderyn raised an eyebrow.

"Now tell me," she said, reclining on the beanbag chair. "Is one hundred a number, or a figure of speech?"

". . . a number."

"Oh. I forgot. I get stuck at forty nine."

"And the next one after that is fifty," Aderyn said, taking off her gas mask to reveal an explosion of freckles before wandering over to the broken freezer.

"Oh," she said as Aderyn grabbed a sandwich. "I always thought it was sixty. Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Oops! My bad." She took another chomp out of the peanut butter sandwich. "Mm . . . I love peanuts."

Aderyn sighed, but she was starting to seriously consider joining up with her. She had led her to food, it would be good to share body heat with someone on these icy nights, and she could serve as a distraction for the worms. Additionally, who knows what else she had hidden?

She's also a good source of entertainment, Aderyn thought, observing as the girl started talking to her stuffed cat again.

She looked up and grinned boyishly, her short brown hair falling into her eyes. "I think this is going to be fun . . ." She paused. "Um, what's your name, again?"

"Aderyn."

"Sorry. I'm SUPER forgetful. If I'm to remember a thing I have to write it down." She looked around. "That's how come I remember this place." She turned back to her. "Anyway, this'll be a blast! I . . . I haven't had a friend in a really long time. . . except for you, of course!" She smiled down at Thing.

Aderyn looked a little suspicious. "So . . . We're friends, now?"

"Yeah." She looked up, tilting her head. "Why?"

"Well . . . that's okay, I guess."