June walked through the grass, leaving no footprints. The moon was high overhead, and in the distance, she heard the cry of an owl. Other than that, everything was quiet. She kept going, passing the high school she'd gone to. It was dark, no sounds save for the soft wind drifting past it. The little band sitting on the steps waiting for their parents didn't talk to her, focused on their cellphones, the dull screens reflecting the moonlight.

June kept walking, running her fingers over the twisted rosebush that had once framed the school's front sign. Now, the roses rose up, obscuring the cheery sign. June shook her head at the thorns. That never would have been allowed before the Last Day.

She passed her school, looking at the cars in the parking lot. The little collision at the exit, with a frozen trail of cars behind it, most of their doors open was still there. So were the people. But June wasn't interested in school. She'd spent enough time there. Now it was time to meet her friends. She shrugged, adjusting her cheerleader uniform, and started running, leaping over cars, rising high into the air before letting herself drift down.

Past the mall, past the overcrowded hospital, and finally, to the park. It was empty. It always was empty. June paused and frowned, staring at the sunken paddleboat in the middle of the pool. Last time she'd only seen part of it, but now it was half-visible. The water level was going down.

June glared at it. I liked the paddle boats.

"June! Nice of you to join us!" Hank called, leaning against the boat house, his body softly illuminating the faded lettering. Next to him was Sally, the shorter girl waving at June.

"Hey, Hank, Sally." June nodded. "Still into leather, Hank?"

"I'll have you know that this was a sign of communism and moral decay that I wore with pride." Hank grinned, and held up his hand to June. June touched it, staring at Hank's hand through her own. No sense in using the power it would take to become solid.

"I've got dinner!" Sally said. "Only the best for your birthday, June!"

"You know, some of the older ones are still annoyed about that. We're not supposed to celebrate birthdays," Hank said.

"I get a pass, because my deathday would be pretty crowded," June said, staring at the basket Sally had produced. It might be memories, crafted for her, but the smell of bread was still enough to bring back the memories of eating real bread. It would be more solid in the Memory Lands, but… no.

Here is where I was born. Here is where I died. June looked around the park, her eyes rising to the street, full of crashed cars where the people hadn't even had a chance to pull over to the side.

Her deathday would be crowded. She shared it with just over 7 billion people, after all.

"Heard a bird," June said. "I guess they're coming back into the city."

"That's nice," Hank told her. He pulled out a blanket from his memories and put it over the grass, the stalks not bending under it. "Sit down!"

June chuckled, as she sat down on the blanket. Above, one of the invader satellites passed over the sky, a bright mote, moving fast.

Not a danger. There were none here who it could hurt, and the ones who had once crewed that craft…

Well. They had learned, very finally, that dead did not mean helpless.

And they did it to themselves. The Memory Lands had once been hard to come back from. Few endured for very long before Going On, and most who remained couldn’t breath the barrier between the living and the dead. Only those with strong connections and powerful wills could return to the sunlit world where they had once waled. Only the Mightiest could do more than create a cool breeze, the hint of a word, a teasing shadow where one shouldn't be. June had heard those stories, of how the greatest kings and queens were distinguished by their ability to enter the Living Lands and work with those few humans who could see them.

And then you slew seven billion in a few hours, and ripped a hole in the Living Lands great enough to encompass the earth. Oh, and gave every one of us a single cause.

She shook her head. That wasn't a memory she needed right now.

"If animals are coming back," Sally said. "Maybe something will eat your body!"

June rolled her eyes. "I was in class, so they'd have to get in through a window. Besides, I'm sort of… off."

"Not to mention there's not a lot left, not after the bugs had their fill," Hank said. "Still, I'm certain you left a beautiful corpse. Not like me, not after I was—"

"Killed by a drunk in a 57 Chevy!" Sally said. "I know, Hank. You've told us all the time what a tragedy it was that you had a closed-casket funeral. If you'd wanted the girls to mourn over your handsome face, you should have just gone out with some pills." She winked at June. "I had a great funeral and everyone even was nice enough to talk about my accidental OD."

June rolled her eyes. "So how does 'beef jerky in a class room' fit in there?"

"Well, you're not handsome like me, but since everyone else is dead… You're sort of between the two of us." Hank said. "And with that, gifts!" He pulled out something from his body, and moments later it swirled into an image of a Harley bike.

June paused. "One of your memories? Hank—I can't—"

"If we can't celebrate your first deathday, we'll celebrate your first birthday as a dead person," Hank said. "This is important. Besides, I have lots of memories. Take it."

June reached out, trembling. His memory. Not a copied memory, or a preserved memory of someone who had Gone On, it was Hank's memory. A part of him.

Something precious. She touched it and…

June was rolling down the highway. Nobody behind her, nobody in front of her. Just the rumble of the bike under her, the bright sun shining down on her, and the endless fields of grain on both sides. Here she could feel that she could just go anywhere not bound by her family or demands on her life… Here was freedom…

"I… I don't know what to say," June said. "I…"

"Say nothing until you have my memory!" Sally said and held one memory up to her, a rose, also taken from her body. June touched it and…

She was standing in front of lights. It was a play. And she was so scared she'd mess up her lines, and everyone would laugh at her, but when the mark hit, she said them just perfectly. And then she went back to the chorus, but when it came time for everyone to come out and bow, Mom and Dad were there applauding like she'd been the star!

June shook her head. "I… I don't know what to say. I wish I could…"

"No, not until you know how to do it right," Hank said. "I mean, you might hurt yourself, or give me a traumatizing memory."

"Girl stuff?" Sally asked.

"Girl stuff." Hank said, and shuddered.

"Am I missing something?"

"Hank once pestered a starlet for a memory," Sally said. "She finally gave in. He got the memory of the worst PMS in her life."

"Ouch. How long did he pester her for."

"A year. Hank deserved it." Sally looked down. "Oh, the bread is getting cold. Let's eat!"

June knew it wouldn't actually get cold. After all, it was a memory as well, created by the memory of the baker Sally had bought it from.

But the smell and feel of the bread reminded her of the days when she'd eaten it here with her family, tossing bits to the ducks. And so, surrounded by the silent city, on a world where no living eyes had seen the sky for years, the three friends had their party.