THE SILVER FOGThe screaming noise from the machines hadn't stopped, but we were learning to live with it. It was like a constant, dull throb in the back of my skull now.

I was leaning against a rock, trying to catch my breath. My hands were stained with dirt and someone else's blood. I didn't even know whose. Everything was moving too fast.

"Esme! Look!"

I looked up. It was Sarah again. She was pointing toward the base of the valley.

At first, I thought it was just the morning mist rolling in ...