Elliot laughed. “Fair enough,” he said. “I mean, that angle, Moroni, gave the book to Smith and we learned he’s got something to do with this. So why not the Native Americans, too?”

“How do you know they’re real?” Evajean asked.

Cassandra shook her head. “I heard them. In my dreams at first, I heard them talking. See, Smith said that the plates he got from Moroni were written in what he called ‘reformed Egyptian.’ People, outside of the Mormons, tend to think that’s just something he made up. But I spent a year in Egypt during college as part of my anthropology degree, and while I never learned to speak it, I came to know what the language sounded like. When the dreams started, when God began talking to me, I’d get these images, of war and horrible things. The people fighting, the ones killing each other, spoke in something that sounded almost exactly like Egyptian, but not quite.”

“You heard it in your dreams?” Elliot said. “That hardly means those people exist.”

“You’re right,” Cassandra said. “I wouldn’t at all mean they were real. However, my dreams are the only place I heard it. I’m sure, during your encounters with the mad people outside, you heard them talking, to themselves and to each other?”

“Yes,” Evajean said.

“I don’t know what they’re saying,” Cassandra said, “but I can tell you with absolute certainty that they’re saying it in reformed Egyptian.”

Elliot found he didn’t care anymore. The world had gone mad, true, but he had the feeling this woman beat it to the punch. He knew she was important, that she’d take them to the museum to find whatever was in there, but he was tired of what she had to say. It didn’t even matter whether any of it was true.

“Evajean,” he said, putting his hand on top of hers, “we should either leave now and try to get to the museum before daybreak, or sleep. If we sleep, I want to wait out the day, though, since it’ll be easier to avoid the crazies in the dark.”

Cassandra pushed back her chair. “Mr. Bishop has a point. I suppose I’m up for leaving now.”

Evajean nodded. “Might as well,” she said.

The crazies were thicker closer to the city. Several times during their journey, the three of them had to duck into a house to wait out a pack wandering down the road. Fortunately, most were unlocked. “They’re trusting folk,” Cassandra said.

She had a good idea of where they were going and Elliot let himself follow, though he remained concerned about just where she might be leading them. A museum, that they all agreed on, but relying on this woman to find it–and to find it safely–had him nervous.

Without electricity, the city was lit only by the stars and moon in the huge Utah sky. But that wasn’t much, and more than once they almost bumped into a group of crazies before seeing them and had to madly dash to find cover. Elliot was glad they’d left Hope in the trailer.

“We’re almost there,” Cassandra said after some time. “A couple blocks more and then it’s up to the two of you.”

“You’re not coming with us?” Evajean said.

“No, I’m going to wait outside. This thing you have to find, it’s for the two of you alone. I’m not meant to see it.”

“How do you know that?” Evajean said.

“The same way I know all of it. Dreams and feelings. I’m quite sure that’s how you two know what to do as well.”

Elliot nodded. She couldn’t come with them. If he cast his mind forward, imagined what might be inside the museum, he sensed Evajean’s presence, but not Cassandra’s. This was up to them, the Mighty and the Strong–whatever that meant.

Downtown Salt Lake was odd. Elliot realized he hadn’t been in a large city since this all started, and the total emptiness of it made the buildings feel both larger and closer together, like the walls of a deep and narrow canyon. He’d never been claustrophobic before, but all this glass and steel and stone was making him feel that way.

“It’s right up there,” Cassandra said after another block. She pointed and Elliot saw it.

“The art museum?” he said.

Cassandra shrugged. “I don’t know–but I know that’s it.”

“She’s right,” Evajean said. “That’s where it is. Where we have to go.”

“Okay,” Elliot said.

Cassandra let them go on without her then, saying she’d stay close to watch. “If anyone comes,” she said, “I can try to find you, to warn you.” They left her, standing on the corner. Elliot knew she’d be gone with they returned.

They glanced around, one more scan for approaching crazies, and ran across the street. He started up the step to the main entrance but Evajean said, “Wait, no, this way,” and took him around the side instead, to a service entrance. It looked like a loading area for trucks, with a metal vertical sliding door–open just enough for the two of them to squeeze through.

He stood up inside. Evajean had their flashlights and handed one to him. Elliot turned it on and swept the light across the garage. A few boxes and drums were stacked randomly, but otherwise it was empty.

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