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They ROSE WITH THE DAWN, ate their breakfast, and packed their gear. When everything was ready, they shouldered their packs and stood looking at each other awkwardly. The sun was a bright glow across the eastern mountains, and the air was bright and clear and sharp with the cold wind blowing down from the north. Cheney stood nearby, watching them.

Panther shivered. “So you really gonna do this, huh?”

She nodded. Rabbit romped past, chasing a moth. She reached down and picked up the cat and cradled him to her. “Good–bye, Panther. Tell the others … tell them whatever you think is best.”

“Well, let’s you and me talk about that.”

She shook her head, holding out one hand in warning. “Don’t start. I told you. I’m not going back.” “Okay, I got that.”

'What, then?'

He shrugged. “Been thinking. Last night, while you slept, I was awake awhile, going over everything you said. It made me look at things different than I did before. See, you and me, we’re more alike than you know. I don’t like being closed away, either. I’m used to doing what I want, going where I want, not having any rules that I don’t like. Makes me different from Hawk and the others. They like having rules. They like having walls and doors and feeling safe. I wasn’t raised like that. I’ve always been free. Thinking about what I’m doing, maybe committing to living in a place that’s like a compound, makes me uneasy. More than uneasy, really.”

Her brow furrowed. “What are you saying?”

“That I don’t think I’m going back, either. I’m going with you.”

She stared at him without speaking. She clasped her hands and twisted the fingers together.

“Maybe this sounds crazy,” he continued, “but it’s not. It makes sense. Anyway, it’s more than that. I was wondering why I came after you, remember? Told you that last night. Well, I think it’s because I knew somewhere deep inside that I wanted to be with you. Only way to make that happen is to go where you go.”

“No.” She shook her head firmly. “You don’t want to go with me. You want to go back to the others. They need you. I don’t.”

He smiled. “Thought you’d say something like that. But I don’t think it’s true. I think you do need me.” She sighed and turned away. “Good–bye, Panther.”

She started walking, but he caught up with her in seconds. “We got to find some warmer clothes along the way. Forage for some food and water, too. I brought a map. Took it from the caravan stores, thinking I might find use for it. It can help us locate a city somewhere along the way, someplace large enough for stores and stuff.”

“You’re not coming with me,” she repeated.

“Probably not right away. Probably I’m just going in the same direction.”

“This is crazy.”

“No, it ain’t. Not when you care about someone like I care about you.”

They walked for a while with neither of them speaking further. Catalya was huddled down inside her cloak and hood, and Panther could barely catch a glimpse of her face. He let her be. Better to wait on this, he thought.

Then all of a sudden she stopped where she was, set Rabbit on the ground, and turned to face him. He could see the tear tracks on her cheeks. “You understand, we can’t ever have a normal … not ever be like other …” She couldn’t finish. She just shook her head in frustration. “It can’t ever be more than what it is right now. For us. For you and me.”

He shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see. I don’t need to know about that right now anyway.” He reached out and wiped away one damp track from her cheek. “But if that’s how it turns out, that will be enough. I ain’t asking for anything else.”

She studied him again, as if trying to see past whatever was visible, and then she nodded slowly. “I see you brought your Parkhan Spray. The barrel’s sticking out of your backpack. You must have broken it down to carry it like that.”

“Yeah, I did,” he admitted.

“You have to promise you won’t use it unless I tell you to.”

“Hey, this is your journey, Kitty Cat. You the one in charge. I’m just along for company.”

“What about the other Ghosts? What about your family? They’re going to wonder what’s happened to you, aren’t they?”

He shook his head. “They’re smarter than they look. They’ll know.”

“Speaking of which.” She pointed at Cheney, still sitting a few yards off, watching.

“Well, he’s got to go back by his own self.” Panther gestured at the dog. “Go home, Cheney. Go back to the Bird‑Man.”

Cheney stared at him and didn’t move.

“Go on, get out of here!” Panther yelled.

But the big dog just sat there. Panther thought about rushing at him, trying to scare him, but decided that might not be the thing to do.

“Forget him,” he said, shrugging. “He’ll go back when he’s ready.”

They started walking again. Panther forced himself not to look back, to keep his eyes directed ahead. But then out of the corner of his eye he caught Cat smiling. “What?”

She pointed at Cheney, who was sauntering along right behind him. “Guess he’s not ready yet,” she said, arching one eyebrow.

Panther nodded and shrugged. “Who cares? Stump–head dog.”

In the distance, far out on the horizon, mountain peaks rose against the skyline, stark and jagged in relief. There was, to Panther’s way of thinking, fresh promise in a country you had never visited before. There were mysteries to be uncovered and wonders to be explored.

He was looking forward to doing both.

THIRTY-FOUR

FOR WEEKS, Hawk led the caravan eastward from the Columbia, pressing on toward the mountains. Children, their caregivers and protectors, Elves, Lizards, Spiders, and others trailed behind him in an exodus that would for years afterward be recounted by the descendants of those who survived it. They crossed first through flatlands and gently rolling hills ravaged by drought and dust storms, the landscape barren and empty of everything but scrub and clusters of farm buildings long since abandoned and collapsing back into the earth until that, in turn, gave way to pine forests, whole stretches of which were dead or dying, but some of which still thrived on water and nutrients somehow left free of the poisons that had infected the rest. Finally, they found themselves approaching what a battered green sign announced to have once been the city of Spokane.

They were more than two weeks into their journey by then, their food and water almost gone and their strength failing. They had been following a freeway they had come across on the second day of their march. Without vehicles for transport and reduced to walking, the ribbon of concrete offered the path of least resistance. Logan, Angel, and Helen Rice all agreed that following the highway was the best option for making their way and probably the safest. They also hoped that one or more of the small towns that normally bracketed major roadways like this one would yield the supplies they needed. But while the former proved out, the latter did not, and by the time of their arrival in Spokane the situation was desperate.

Then things turned around.

First Logan and a handful of others, searching through an industrial complex on the outskirts of the city, discovered a warehouse filled with haulers and tractors. They were all meant for farm use and not for the purpose of carrying people, but there was nothing to say that they couldn’t be adapted to the uses the caravan required. Their solar engines were in working order, and once they were pulled out into the sunlight, their cells began to charge immediately. The tractors would be slow–not much faster than walking, once the wagons were attached–but they would allow most of the children to ride.

Later that same day, prowling deeper into buildings in the same complex, they found a handful of working AVs. The AVs were not on the same order as the Lightning or the Ventra; they were not armed or armored or meant for fighting use of any sort. Even so, they would provide the caravan with swift, mobile vehicles for scouting and foraging. Five were still working.