I nodded. “She would have died without it.”
“Just like us.”
“Yes,” I said. I held her eyes, watching for any signs of a violent reaction. I had no idea if this news would upset her or not.
“She won’t be exactly like the two of you,” Dr. Evans said, turning in his seat. “She’ll never have the chip so she’ll never have the pain or emotional blockers. She’ll always be stronger and faster than everyone else around her, but for the most part, she will seem normal.”
“Vee,” West said quietly. He reached forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. She twitched violently. I wondered how long it had been since another human being had touched her. “This was a good thing we did.”
She turned and met his eyes and was still for a long moment. As I watched them look at each other, I imagined that connection that had been between the two of them, and then how awful it must have been for West, seeing Avian and I together, thinking it had been he and I that had shared such a connection.
No wonder he’d lost it like he had.
“Okay,” she finally said. And that was it.
The snow continued to fall heavier and faster over the next hour. We were only two hours away from NovaTor when the solar tank started to slow to half speed. Twenty minutes later, it stopped in the middle of the road between two small towns.
Vee, Bill, and I climbed out of the tank and observed the sky. It was dark clouds to the north, south, east, and west.
“This isn’t going to let up any time soon,” I said. “What is the weather normally like this time of year?”
“You’re looking at it,” Vee said, checking out our surroundings. “Snow will come and go all winter long here. We’ve had a dry spell the last ten days or so, but I knew it wouldn’t last.”
“And how long will the snow stay for?”
She shrugged. “It’s winter. It could last a few hours, but likely it will last for a few days. Maybe a few weeks.”
“But will the sun come back out?” Bill asked. “We can drive through snow with these tires, but without a charge, we aren’t going anywhere.”
“Probably by morning,” Vee said, still searching the sky. I realized then she was looking for Bird. It came into view, circling us twice before settling on the branch of a scraggly tree just to the west of us. “Unless this is a major storm.”
“Still, we have to make it until morning,” I said, looking northeast, the way we had just come. “I don’t know that we’re far enough south to be in the safe zone from the sweep.”
“We can walk,” Vee said. “We can carry the vital supplies.”
“But then we’ll just have to walk back to the vehicle,” Bill said, folding his arms over his chest.
“So we move it with us,” I said, walking back to it. I took a look inside. Avian had just laid Creed on the seat, fast asleep. “Everyone out, except you Dr. Evans. Don’t want your nice and shiny gears getting fried. We’re pushing instead of driving.”
We took two ropes and secured them to the front tow hooks. Avian and I pulled from the front, while Bill, West, and Vee pushed from behind.
We slowly rolled down the road.
Once we got momentum going, it wasn’t that hard to maintain it. Except for the snow that slowly started piling up on the road. My pants became soaked through and snow collected on my shoulders. Our feet slipped in the slush.
“I guess lady luck got tired of following you around,” Avian said through gritted teeth as he pulled on his rope.
“I think the last few weeks have been the only time in my life she’s wanted to be around me,” I answered, adjusting the rope over my shoulder. “I couldn’t ask her for any more than saving Creed and giving my sister over without a massive, countrywide search.”
Avian chuckled, sending a cloud of hot breath into the air.
The terrain around us was arid. A few trees were scattered about, but mostly it was jagged desert and sagebrush. Mountains clustered in the horizon and the frigid wind blew in from the north.
We pulled through the snow and cold for two hours, until there was too much snow on the road and the tires stuck.
“Think this is far enough?” West asked as everyone met on the side of the van. His face was red and splotchy. Sweat started freezing in his growing beard.
“It’ll have to be, I suppose,” I said, looking back the way we had come. A billow of hot air clouded around me as I spoke. “But I think we’ll be okay.”
“Let’s get some tents set up then,” West said. “Before we get buried in the snow.”
We decided that Bill would stay in the van with Dr. Evans. West and Vee would take one tent, Avian, Creed, and I would take the other.
I couldn’t help but smile as I watched West and Vee interact. He handed her the poles and she quickly and effortlessly assembled the tent. She was stiff and somewhat awkward, but you could easily see on her face that she trusted West. That bond was still there. West asked if she was hungry, she took the food from him with a hint of a smile.
The tie that was obviously still there wasn’t mature as it might have been if they’d known each other longer as grown people. It was more childlike, but it was there.
Provisions were split, and then everyone burrowed into their tents.
“How’s she doing?” I asked as I zipped the tent closed. Even in the tent the air smoked around my mouth as I spoke.
“She’s breathing pretty well and her heart rate is steady,” Avian said as he pulled his coat tighter around him and Creed. “But she’s cold.”
I set to zipping our sleeping bags together and then Avian and I both stripped our coats off, laying them on top of the sleeping bags. It was doubtful they would actually dry before morning, but we’d freeze to death sleeping in them. We got down to the barest of layers, slipped into the sleeping bags, and laid Creed between us.
“Body heat is about all we’ve got to offer you right now, little one,” Avian said as he tightened the blanket around her.
I looked down at Creed, running a finger across her incredibly soft cheek. She blinked twice before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.
When I looked up at Avian, I found him staring at me. A smile spread on his face, reaching his eyes. I couldn’t help but return it.
As he leaned forward and pressed his lips briefly to mine, I couldn’t help but feel peaceful. There was so much going on in my life at the moment. So much was on the line that stress was becoming a constant in my life.
But it was small moments like this that reminded me why I kept fighting the daily fight.
TWENTY-TWO
A gunshot rang out and I sprang from our tent in nothing more than my t-shirt and waterproof running pants.
Bill stood just outside the solar tank, his shotgun still poised in front of him. A puff of smoke hung heavy in the air. Lying just in front of him was a man with a dozen bleeding holes in his chest. Red started seeping into the snow underneath him.
“What is going on?” I demanded, crossing the snow with bare feet. I crouched next to the man and looked him over just as the rest of the crew stepped out of their tents. The man was dead. “Bill?” I said, looking back at him when he didn’t respond. “This guy is human.”
“Trust me, he’s not,” Bill said with clenched teeth as he finally lowered his shotgun.
“Yeah, I’m pretty positive he is.” I looked back at the man. His eyes were closed and there was blood splattered all over his face. A heavy scar ran down one side of his face, crossing over his eye, and dropping down his cheek.
He had a cruel face. The face of a man I wouldn’t want to cross.
“What was he doing?” West asked, confusion in his eyes.