Dany is hoping that, as they drive from one power grid to the next, they’ll find lights. Now and again, Dany sees brief flickerings of light – a candle in a window, the confined light of a torch, a lantern. And about five clicks from Antoine’s farm, they pass the perimeter lights of the federal penitentiary, the one that Antoine once called home. But she knows that the perimeter lights here, at the prison, have to be running on generators.
Antoine’s farm backs onto a national park, and to reach it, you have to pass through a small town. There, about a mile outside of the town, at its limits, they see it. Some kind of makeshift barrier. The signs that have been hoisted onto the pickup truck are handmade. Locals, obviously. Even so, Dany feels a kick of adrenaline when Eva slows the car do
