Dany finds a decent pair of sunglasses in the pocket of one of the bodies in the lobby. But even with them on, the sun is sharp, painfully so. So, yes, it hurts a little, to step out into the sun, to feel it on her face.
But over the last days, Dany has become accustomed to pain.
The streets of the city around her have been transformed into the hospice grounds.
The air is thick with the muttering of those who have forgotten the old world. She sees them, dotting the car-strewn roads and grassy places, everywhere. Here and there, sprawled on the ground, are the ones who didn’t survive the change. Dany surveys all of it, but most of all, she feels the sun on her face and the sun, which she never thought she’d see again, is good.
It’s brighter than she remembers, this sun, and it set
