When you come to, the fading light of day hurts your eyes. You blink against the unfamiliar brightness that shines across your upturned face in streaks of orange and yellow. Groggy, you roll your head to one side and focus unsteadily on the trees that line the cracked asphalt beneath your supine for
The year is 3045, post-Cleanse, and Eleanor's grandmother gives her a defunct radio...