“I’m not your blood, and you tried to find me again. My whole pack.”

“You and I are two halves of a whole, Delta, a branded pair. And packs are their own unique bond. Bonds and blood. They keep us human.”

I nod, knowing he’s right. And though I hate that Reed didn’t help me sooner, he’s helping now. He’s risking everything to put the safety of many before himself. And if I really do have a sibling left in this world, I shouldn’t turn my back on him. A stab of guilt shoots up my side, as though the mere thought of inviting Reed into my life means turning my back on Indie.

“I can’t think now,” I mutter. “My head’s too fogged up. Maybe tomorrow, when the blitz has worn off, things might be clearer. Maybe . . .”

I stand as a movement to the north catches my eye. Along the horizon, green ribbons of light dance and twist. Signs of a coming silent storm. I don’t remember a solar flare, but maybe it happened when we were inside Eden, discovering the truth of the world.

“There’s been so many lately,” Asher says. “Squalls, dust storms, silent storms . . .”

The light dances, unhurried and fluid. If you didn’t know what followed, you’d think it beautiful. A storm means we won’t be able to leave for Powder Town for at least another day, which means our water will run even lower. We’ll have to use whatever supplies Eden has to offer and hope they’re safe, as Asher theorized.

The supplies!

“That’s it!” I blurt out.

“What?” Asher says.

I bolt to my feet, still staring at the horizon, Amory’s story repeating in my mind. I see it now: the way forward. I know how to best the General.

Chapter Thirty-Six

“We have to fire a mag-rifle,” I say.

Asher’s brow wrinkles. “Right now?”

“That’s how we defeat him.”

“But Amory said they don’t work during storms.”

“That’s exactly what I want to test.”

Fighting against the dizziness of our fogged minds, we get the deck boards back in place and double- and triple-check all the sails, making sure things are cinched tight. Then I scramble up the rubble pile and into Eden, Asher on my heels. Inside, the bunker is quiet. Reed and Harlie must be sleeping.

The storeroom is larger than any hut I’ve ever set foot in. Shelves reach from floor to ceiling, labeled with Old World symbols that I can’t comprehend. Not that it matters. I know exactly what I’m looking for.

On the far wall, rifles are stacked in narrow compartments. They look nothing like the rifles I’ve seen on the wastes. The semi-somethings, Amory had called them. A type of weapon that didn’t fail during the geostorms, and the only type Amory let people take when they left the bunker.