"Make enough to fill that empty cart," Voss told her, putting a finger on the street plan. "The families who came down from the roofs could tell us where their neighbors meant to go. They couldn't tell us how many made it. My problem is we have plenty of food and exactly one decent road to get it to them."
He had put little pencil dots along the way to the rail shelter. A few of them came in pairs where there were broken-down cars to get around. On the far side of the overpass somebody had marked a dark cross. The General's body still lay there, and the buildings beyond it hid the part of the road the youngest horse brother was supposed to come back along.
"Will he know where to look for us if we have to move?" she asked. "It's easy to talk about a bend in a road when you can see it on a piece of paper. When I was little I once walked past the house I lived in because somebody had taken the green trash bins back in."
