She was completely, utterly alone.

She reached up with her free hand to absently rub at her nose through the cloth covering her face. The dust she walked through swirled around her like a mist. The wind in this region had all but died away, as had everything else. Charcoal gray snags protruded all around where trees had once lined this trail. The once majestic oaks were now flattened, strewn helter-skelter in every conceivable angle. Most were pointing in the direction from which she had come, as if showing her the way back.

In most places, the road was completely obliterated by the trees and rubble of life turned to ashes. She had dedicated herself to this trek. She knew this had to be the correct road to that place.

Occasionally, she would allow her eyes to dart to either side, to take in the piles of stone marking foundations of houses that had been swept away. Many times she saw an arm or a leg grotesquely pinned beneath one of the massive pieces of charcoal that had once been a tree. Humans, animals and insects alike had been mown down by the sweeping arm of God.

With her mind's eye, she could picture memories of how the houses must have looked. Pristine whites trimmed in green, children playing in the yard. People going about their daily lives, barbecuing, watching television, rocking in their chairs under the lazy summer sky. How could anyone have known the heavens were about to explode, and the fires would pour down to turn the very world to a cinder?

Weeks after the holocaust, dust still rained down on them. She had given up on trying to keep the gray powder off her clothes. Everywhere she went, even when she was lucky enough to find shelter where the dust hadn't managed to penetrate, the ash would fly into the room from her own clothes. With every day of her journey, her lungs seized up a little more as they filled with soot.

The chill in the air was growing steadily worse. Even at high noon, or what she could guess to be high noon, the light of day was no more than the twilight she could remember from warm summer nights not so long ago. If she didn't know it was the middle of August, she could almost convince herself it was the dead of winter.

A nuclear winter. . .

She pulled the fur coat tightly around her throat, the same coat she had taken from the toppled building in one of the towns she had walked through days earlier. A glance ahead showed only a fog of swirling dust. Trying to picture the area as it had once been, she decided to continue straight ahead.

"Nothin' up that way but more death. . ."

She turned, gasping in surprise as she kicked up more of the gray flakes that had been falling from the sky. To the side, under the grotesque remnants of a tree, sat a lone figure. She hesitated, this was the first person she had seen alive in at least two days. The others whom she had seen in the past towns had devolved into something far less than human.

She clutched her backpack tightly. Inside, the revolver which she had been forced to use all ready, hung like a weight. Had she not of used it then, she would have most likely not lived to meet this person now. Did this one intend for her the same fate as the last man she had stumbled upon?

"I know," she said, quietly yet with a strength and conviction she really didn't feel. With the tomb-like silence shrouding them, even a whisper could be heard clearly.

"Then why are you going that away?"

She straightened her shoulders, reaching up to push her hood back from her eyes to try and grasp a better look. The voice was male, probably young. "I want to find one of the blast sites."

"Blast site! What the hell do you want to see one of those holes for?"

"I have my reasons," she said hesitantly.

"Pretty damn fool reasons if you ask me." He chuckled, then coughed harshly.

She took a tentative step toward him, focusing on his face. He was indeed young, perhaps in his late teens or early twenties. He barely looked old enough to shave, but his face still held a handsome promise of manhood if she used imagination and looked beyond the dust. He was dressed scantily, and he clutched his arms about him, shivering in the cold. His eyes blinked continuously as the dust tried to settle on his eyelashes. Yet she could tell his eyes were clear, unclouded by the delusions of insanity like she had seen in so many of the people who still lived. She could see the fear in him, the taut way he held himself as he crouched in the dust. Even through his shivering, she could read his readiness to bolt away at the first sign of threat.

"You aren't like the others," she said, wanting to reach out to him. "How did you survive?"

"Me?" he asked, then realized how stupid he must sound considering no one else was around. He looked away briefly, again coughing, clearing his throat, then back at the woman standing before him. She was wearing what looked like fur, her head free of the hood, face hidden behind the cloth she had wrapped around her nose and mouth to prevent breathing the dust.

There was something about her eyes. Dark, almost hidden by locks of hair he couldn't quite make out the color of. Combined with a raspy, almost sensual voice, she presented an alluring picture. He continued to stare toward her, unable to look away.

"I survived 'cause I was in the woods when they hit," he said. "I was camped out in a cave, enjoying the forest. Then afterwards, I had no where else to go. The cave worked out pretty good for a couple of days after the explosions, until the rocks started fallin' in."

"What's your name?" she asked.

He slowly stood, still clutching his arms around him. The shivering began anew and she realized his entire upper body was bare. What she had first thought was some kind of shirt was actually a heavy layer of dust. His clothing stopped with the pair of ragged, torn jeans clinging to his legs and a pair of heavy hiking boots. Other than this, he was nude and exposed to the environment. He took a few steps toward her, and she moved back suddenly.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," he said, "unless you try somethin' first."

"You're freezing."

"Damn right I am! I had a fire until I ran out of matches."

She released her backpack slowly, lowering it to the ground as she kept her eyes on him. As she started to unzip the pack, he looked as if he might bolt back into the devastated woods, the mistrust reflecting in his face as surely as a deer watching the hunter. She slowly pulled out a piece of cloth, averting her eyes from him to glance at it briefly before tossing it to his waiting hands.

He caught it midair. When he realized what it was, he quickly brushed himself off as much as he could, the dust flying and swirling around him as his hand quickly rubbed over his arms and bare chest. Satisfied he had cleaned himself off as much as possible, he shrugged into the sweater. With that simple token, a friendship had begun.

"So you were a teacher?" he asked her, leaning closer to the fire, thanks to some of the precious matches from her pack.

"I was," she said, staring into the flickering light.

"Teacher of what?"

She looked over at him. They had come across an abandoned shed. A tractor and some other farm equipment were still housed inside, and when they had found lanterns still filled with coal-oil, the light provided a welcome relief from the darkness which fell outside like a heavy curtain.

She had spared enough water to slightly dampen a cloth, giving it to him to wash most of the dirt from his face. For the first time, she saw through the grime to his still boyish, yet almost-a-man's, face.

The fire comforted both Brian and Kathryn. Although the roof to the shed had been blown away, the walls still stood, though they were so crooked they looked as though they might collapse at any time.

"Astronomy and physics," she said, finishing the bite of fried apple pie she had collected somewhere along her travels.

"Astronomy?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "I don't know no woman astronomers."

"You know many astronomers, do you?" she asked, teasing him gently.

After a while, his boyish grin broke through. "No."

"Well," she said, smiling to herself. "Now you do."

"Where'd you teach?"

"Georgia Tech," she said. Before he could ask further, she continued, "I was in the mountains, working, when they hit."

"You saw them coming?" He whistled softly to himself, shaking his head. "I'll bet it scared the piss out of you."

She lowered her eyes, remembering. The horror, the nightmares.

"Sorry," he offered, mistaking in her silence that he had offended her. "Sometimes my mouth runs ahead of my manners."

"No," she said. "It's okay. Just hearing another sane human voice, regardless of the your wording, is wonderful."

"I wonder why we never got a warning from the president or something?" he asked, absently nudging at the layers of dust on the ground beneath him.

"I've wondered that many times myself, Brian," she said quietly. And she had…many, many times. The government knew what was coming. The number incoming, the devastation. It was unforgivable the public hadn't been warned.

But then again, what would really have been the use? Panic. Mayhem. Chaos as people poured into the streets, seeking shelter from something one could not hide from.

"Where are you from?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Macon county, originally. I was down here seeing some of my relatives, and wanted to get away for a while. Mom and dad made me come down with them for the summer. Dad had some job that he was checking out."

His voice drifted off as he choked on his words. His eyes reddened and she realized it wasn't from the dust this time.

"I'm sorry," she said. It was the only comfort she could offer.

"I guess it was quick," he finished for her. "When I got back to the house, there wasn't anything left." He looked up again, a small, sad grin tugged at his lips. "You know? I applied at Georgia Tech, and they turned me down flat."

"Really? Why?"

"They said my Act’s weren't high enough."

"Then it was our loss," she said matter-of- factly. "I have always felt those tests were inaccurate anyway."

"Really?" he asked, sounding amused. "You're just saying that to be nice."

"No," she said, hoping she sounded convincing. "Take yourself for instance. Sure, you're a little rough around the edges, and your English could stand improvement, but you seem very intelligent to me."

"Yeah? How so?"

"You've survived this long haven't you? That proves something."

"Don't guess it matters much anymore," he said, his voice trailing off again.

She sighed heavily, letting her thoughts drift back to brighter days, happier times. But her thoughts lingered on their conversation for a moment. How many people like Brian had been turned away from a higher education because of a senseless test? But the issue was moot, now. "No," she said, "I guess it doesn't."

They sat in silence for a while, gazing into the fire. She removed her gloves, and slowly began massaging her fingers.

"You know something?" he said. "You don't look old enough to be a college professor."

She laughed aloud then, thinking what she must look like to him now. Dust caked hair, smudged face.

"No, really," he pressed. "I mean I always thought college teachers would be old, gray haired, mean!"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"How old are you?"

"God! Are we that far away from civilization now that you can expect a woman to give her age to just anyone?"

He looked at her, the firelight twinkling in his eyes. The flames illuminated her face and he thought that she did, indeed, look young. How odd that she could actually be a college professor! "Well, considering that you're the only person I've seen lately who could carry on a conversation…"

"You've seen others?" she asked. "Alive?"

"Yeah," he said, the light leaving his eyes. "Yeah, I have. Crazy! I saw another woman at Pickle's Gap, or what I think was Pickle's Gap. Anyway, she just sat there, singing hymns to herself. I tried to talk to her, but she just sat there. I ended up walking away."

She absently thought of her own encounters with people she had seen in her travels these past weeks. "I haven't found many who managed to keep their sanity through all of this."

"Not even at the campus?"

"I don't know," she continued. "I never returned to the campus. I drove off the mountain and went home, but there wasn't much of a home any more. My husband and my cats. . ." She looked down into her hand at the remaining piece of fried apple pie and a glimmer of tears flickered in her eyes. "Anyway, I drove as far as the car would go. I've been walking ever since."

"Why do you want to see the blast site?"

She wondered the same thing herself, though her plan seemed perfectly logical to her. She had always believed it possible to find what she was looking for. Then when the holocaust came, it only seemed natural that she would find what she had always sought at one of the sources of the devastation. Now she was beginning to wonder if she weren't as crazy as the lunatic woman Brian had mentioned.

"Have you seen any of the blast zones?" she asked.

"Yeah. Was up there a few days ago, or at least I saw some of one of 'em. Didn't climb the walls of it to look into it or anything, though."

"How far?"

He looked at her again, shrugging his shoulders. "Don't know. Ten, maybe fifteen miles. You can't miss it. It's bigger than anything I've ever seen."

"Can we make it there tomorrow?"

He continued looking at her, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "But why do you want to go there? The closer we get, the harder the land is. More dust--more dead bodies than you can count! Ain't any of these buildings," he said, looking around at the roofless shack, "that still have walls. Only rubble. There ain't even stumps of dead trees left!"

"Can we make it there tomorrow?" she insisted.

"Why? Why don't we head in the other direction? We're bound to come across a settlement, or a town! All the cities can't be destroyed! The world can't be completely gone! Somewhere there has to be a place left where people aren't crazy!"

"I've come from that direction. We would never make it back through," she said simply, with conviction.

He looked at her again, stunned. "What do you mean we would never make it back?"

"Exactly what I said, Brian. I came from that direction." She indicated with a nod of her head. "There are still people alive, but much worse off than just rocking themselves with song on their lips. Murderous! And they will kill you for a sweater… for a coat…after they do much worse things to you."

"I don't understand."

"Brian, I have seen this. Things getting worse by the minute. I managed to walk my way through and believe me, it was a blessing the population started thinning out close to one of the craters. People are murdering people for food. Eating the people they kill, Brian! I had to kill a man myself but not before he nearly killed me! And rape. . .don't think a pretty young man like yourself is safe from that. "

He looked to her, revulsion filling his face. Had he heard this from anyone else, he didn't know if he would have believed it. Her expression was etched as if in stone, he could almost see what she had seen by reaching out with his mind, his imagination. She was telling the truth. He wouldn't ask what that man had done to her to make her have to kill him. He didn't like the picture he got.

"It'll be pretty hard travel," he said after several long minutes of thought. Turning his gaze back to the fire, he added, "We had better get an early start. But for what, I still don't know."

"Then we had better get some rest. I'll take the first watch while you sleep. I'll wake you in a few hours. Brian, in the morning, I will explain my reasons. Consider it your first college lesson."

He looked at her solemnly, his eyes softening. Yet confusion laced his youthful face. The questions were still on his lips, but he chose not to ask out of respect for her.

Watching him as he lay down, curling closer to the flames, she knew that, for some reason, he had developed a trust in her. Silently, she prayed that her theories wouldn't be wrong.

They left long before the muddy dawn filled the dust- choked sky. Carrying lanterns they had taken from the shack to light their way until the uneven daylight broke through, they walked for hours. She spoke to him of her theories, her thoughts, of everything she had considered long before the holocaust, and the logic behind her desire now.

He had listened intently, balking at some things, but listening nonetheless when she explained herself to him. She knew he had come to think she was crazy, and wondered if he was right. Maybe it would be better if she just sat and waited for the cold to penetrate her bones, to embalm her in the dust that swirled with every footstep they took. After awhile, they stopped talking and continued in silence. She felt lucky enough that he had chosen to lead her to her destination and didn't want to push that luck. His companionship meant everything now, and it was enough he remained with her.

They passed more dead bodies, and more dead animals, or what was left of them. They found footprints of someone who had already walked this path and both Brian and Kathryn kept a closer eye on their surroundings. The landscape here was rough, treacherous. Great rocks had flung themselves up into jagged mountains around which they cautiously picked their way. Not once did they find anything alive. Not a blade of grass. Not a drop of water. Kathryn wondered if a cruel twist of fate hadn't perhaps landed them on some barren moon she had studied and theorized about in all the classes she had taught.

When twilight again gave way to nightfall, they lit their lanterns but did not stop. She knew no rational being would traverse what they had come through, in their condition. Any sane person would have left it up to those with more experience, more equipment. But the fact was, neither Brian nor Kathryn knew if there would ever again be anyone to explore this path.

She had to know. And somehow, she knew that his own curiosity had been peaked, if reluctantly so. Brian would continue with her, out of his own spark of wonder and need to discover the truth.

When it seemed that she couldn't walk another step, the grade shifted upward. She lifted her lantern, and reaching up with her free hand, pushed the hood from her eyes. The light filtered a few feet through the dust and, in that space, she could see the rocks and dirt creating a steep slope. They had come to the base of a crater left by one of the explosions.

She gazed over at Brian, breath pent, asking with her eyes if he would continue on. He smiled and extended his hand. She clasped it tightly and they began the most treacherous part of their journey, bound by a dedication that needed no words.

Climbing hand over hand, they clawed their way up the incredible slope that thrust out of the land like an open sore. The rock had superheated then cooled incredibly fast, becoming glass slick under their hands and feet, making it nearly impossible to ascend. Yet they persevered. Then, Brian slipped. He grabbed for the nearest outcropping, desperately holding on. One slip of the hand would mean his death.

Kathryn lost her lantern as she struggle to reach him. The coal oil spilled down the slope, igniting in a thin line to light the area where Brian thrashed about wildly. His own lantern had been trapped by a jutting rock. She could see his terrified face reflected from the lamplight.

She caught hold of his arm, vowing to any gods who might be listening at the time that she would die with him if he fell. For one horrifying moment, she felt him slipping from her grasp. He was pulling her down with him.

"Let go," he begged. "Save yourself! Please!"

But she wouldn't give up. She grasped at the rock with one hand, wincing as diamond sharp edges sliced into her flesh. The jagged slivers cut deeper with every passing heartbeat as she braced herself firmly against the angry mountain. With her other hand, she held fast to Brian. The tendons in her arm threatened to rip, her shoulder felt like it was ready to snap, yet still she bore his weight. With a deep breath, ending in a scream, Kathryn poured her very soul into her grip and gave one final yank, pulling Brian up enough so his feet could find purchase.

He found another toehold and scrambled back up to her side. Safe, at least for a while.

They stopped long enough to compose themselves. The talked quietly as Brian worked and massaged the soreness in Kathryn's arm. There was no question whether or not they should continue. If not to prove her theories to both of them, this climb had become a vendetta, a chance to thumb their noses at what fate had inflicted upon the Earth and their lives.

They continued up the dangerous incline. Their breath came in short gasps now, their tongues beginning to feel like lead in their mouths as they swelled in need of air. Muscles screaming for rest, their minds began to drift in and out.

Kathryn felt the waves of exhaustion begin to overtake her. Her body had begun a slow collapse and she stumbled. Brian must have seen her falter, for he maneuvered himself ahead and reached down to grab her hand, to keep her from falling.

She smiled faintly at him. "Debt paid," she whispered.

They were nearing the end. She could feel it. Just when they both knew they could go no further, the light from their remaining lamp shone over the lip of the blister which had been carved into the once gentle landscape. Brian lifted himself up on the ledge. He reached down and assisted his teacher and friend up with him.

They sat there for long minutes, gasping for air. Too exhausted to speak, they knew their pursuit was nearly at an end.

She was the first to force herself to her feet. Inching forward, over rocks and ripples in the surface of the fierce mountain, she continued on. Brian fell in step behind her once more, his feet dragging from exhaustion.

When he heard her quick intake of her breath, he looked up quickly. Before them, the impenetrable night was broken by brilliance. A light so intense that the thickness of the dust couldn't block it away spread out before them.

With renewed strength, they bolted, running to the lip of the crater. As they peeked over the edge of the chasm to the pit dug into the Earth, Brian knew that Kathryn had been right all along.

She had told him she knew about the asteroids plummeting toward the Earth. Scientists and government officials had promised that all the nuclear weapons deployed toward space to destroy the miles-long asteroids would devastate the massive rocks before they fell to the Earth. They had all been assured no harm would befall the planet.

They had been hopelessly wrong. The missiles had done nothing more than break the asteroids into hundreds of lesser, but more deadly pieces, each piece on a direct collision course with Earth. Humanity would suffer nothing less than the dinosaurs had, destroyed so many millennia before by the same type of cataclysm.

Why the government had failed to notify the public of their failure to destroy the asteroids, she couldn't answer. No one had known until it was much, much too late. Hundreds of meteors had impacted the planet over the next fifty-six hours, hitting every continent and boiling the oceans. The entire planet was lain waste.

No sentient being who studied science would miss an opportunity to study a planet in the throes of such destruction, Kathryn surmised. If sentient life lived elsewhere in the cosmos, and had the capability, they would be here. And the most logical place for any scientist to begin their study would be at the sites of the meteor craters themselves.

Brian looked with her toward the bottom of the crater. He could count five distinct objects, disk shaped, gleaming pure brilliance. The ships were magnificent, incredibly huge. Although they were too far away to see any of the aliens themselves, he knew if they were of comparable size to humans, there must be hundreds of them with the size of the ships.

He glanced quickly at Kathryn and caught the tears of joy that winked in her eyes. She had been right all along. The threads of science are the same, no matter what species in the universe is studying nature and the effects of its violent tendencies.