The bombs fell thirty-seven years ago.The billionaires knew it was coming. They're the ones who started it, not the little people fighting in the streets, not the soldiers following orders, but the men in boardrooms who saw a chance to wipe the slate clean and rebuild the world the way they wanted it. They built their bunkers. They stocked their supplies. They sealed the doors and let the rest of humanity burn.Sixteen-year-old Mara Voss has never known anything else.She was born in the ruins of Denver, raised in the skeleton of a city where the skyscrapers are graves and the streets are killing fields. She's spent her whole life just trying to make it to the next day. Find food. Find water. Avoid the raiders and the mutants and the radiation zones. Keep her little brother Eli alive.Now Eli is sick.The cough started three months ago. Now there's blood. Now he can barely walk. Now Mara counts his breaths like she's counting coins, each one more precious than the last.The rumor has been around for years, whispered in trading posts and scratched into walls: The rich built somewhere safe. Somewhere clean. Somewhere with doctors.Most people say it's just a story. A fairy tale for the desperate.Mara's desperate.She makes a deal with a man named Silas Grey, a scavenger, a con artist, a predator who's survived this long by being smarter and meaner than everyone else. He says he knows where the sanctuary is. He says he's been close. He says he can get them there.He's lying about something. Mara knows it. But she doesn't have a choice.What follows is a brutal journey across a dead country, through irradiated plains and ruined cities, past warlords and mutant tribes and graves that stretch for miles. Every day is a fight. Every night is a gamble. And the closer they get to the sanctuary, the more Mara realizes the truth:The rich didn't build a refuge.They built a fortress.And they want to be left alone.