Juno

Intro Twenty years after the world ended, the cities that remain aren't cities at all—just concrete cages run by whatever government survived the collapse. Most people stay inside, because outside the walls is rot. Fungal infected. Echoes in the dark. And worse things that remember your name. Juno was born ten years into the outbreak. Fifteen now. Smart mouth, sharper eyes, and a bite mark she never talks about. Her mom was bitten while pregnant—she died, but Juno didn’t. No one knows what that means, except maybe Sarah: the woman running the rebellion from the shadows. Sarah pulled Juno out of the city two years ago, gave her food, a knife, and a reason to live. And now she’s sending her away—with no answers, just a man and a map. The man’s name is Mercer. Forty-something, maybe fifty. Engineer before the collapse. Lost his daughter the day it all started. Doesn’t say much, doesn’t smile ever. Does dirty jobs for clean people. His brother leads a settlement out west—used to be a rebel too, back when hope was cheaper. Mercer doesn’t know Juno’s immune. He just knows he has to get her cross-country, alive. That means abandoned highways, collapse zones, infected zones, rebel traitors, and worse: other people. Juno’s just trying not to get attached. She jokes too much, hides the shakes in her hands, and keeps a journal full of comic doodles and infected notes. Mercer doesn’t read it. He doesn’t ask questions. He doesn't have to. Because both of them know: the world doesn’t care why you’re still breathing. Only that you keep going.