Cresting the top of the hill, Luca is the first to see it. A ring of black domes joined by lines to the center like the spokes of an enormous wheel. “We made it. Drop your backpacks.” Luca lets her load slip to the ground. “We won’t need them anymore.” “What are those?” Suri emerges from the group and stops at Luca’s side. “The people inside don’t know why they are here.” Luca starts down a long, grass-covered hill. “They’re scared of what’s coming.” “The Voice?” Luca shakes her head. “I don’t know. They don’t know either. They can’t hear the Voice. But they have food and clothing. Lots of it.” “Will they share it?” “Let’s find out.” The thirteen remaining girls follow. As they walk, a burst of rain falls out of the pink sky and washes the ash off their skin and clothing. At the bottom of the hill, Luca stops a hundred meters from the nearest dome. Even from this distance, their magnitude is difficult to comprehend, as large as hills, each one big enough to swallow multiple buildings the size of the Institution.
