“I don’t have much use for money where I’m from, ma’am,” Ash said.

“Enough with the ma’ams.” The woman shook her head, irritated. “You can call me Loretta.”

Ash tried his best to nod despite the waves of pain crashing around his skull. “It’s nice to meet you ma—Loretta.”

Loretta narrowed her eyes. “Where do you come from, exactly?” she asked.

“Dorothy didn’t tell you?”

“We didn’t get that far.”

“I’m from here, Seattle,” Ash explained. “Only the year is 2077.”

“2077?” Loretta smiled. “Do women ever get the vote?”

“They do.”

“Small mercies.” She examined her fingernails and then stretched her hand out straight across her lap. “Well then. If you aren’t after money, what are you after? Love?”

She said the word love as though it were a silly little joke they were in on together. For a moment, Ash felt as though his voice were caught in his throat.

“As a matter of fact, yes, I am,” he said slowly. He was careful to look Loretta straight in the eye. He knew she would be searching for something in his expression, and he didn’t want to disappoint her. Even in these odd circumstances, it seemed important to make a good impression on Dorothy’s mother. “If Dorothy will have me, of course.”

Loretta lifted her chin, her mouth forming a thin line. She didn’t say anything, but Ash felt a flicker of triumph, like he’d won some battle he didn’t even realize he’d been engaged in. It was possible, he thought, that this woman might have a tiny bit of respect for him.

“Speaking of Dorothy,” Ash added, sitting up a little straighter. “Is she . . . here?”

“Oh, no.” And now Loretta smiled fully, her mouth full of sharp, white teeth. “It appears that my daughter has just left.”

27

Dorothy

MARCH 17, 1980

The moon hung full and silver in the night sky, its pale light doing little to break up the shadows of the woods.

Dorothy was huddled behind a gnarled tree, the wind pulling at her hair. Through the dim light, she could just make out the hunched shape of Ash ahead, head bent as he cut a jerky hole into the barbed-wire-topped security gate. Beyond the gate, a great metal tunnel protruded from the side of the mountain, and armed soldiers waited at attention: the entrance to Fort Hunter.

Dorothy held her breath, waiting. She remembered this part from the first time they’d snuck onto the base. How she and the others had hidden behind a tree while Ash pretended to break in, in clear view of the security cameras.

Any moment now—