Panic flared in her eyes, but he smiled.

“I don’t know what’s out here,” Benny said, “but I can’t believe that there’s nothing left worth finding. I won’t believe it. I don’t. We met Eve, Nix. She has a family.”

“Who tried to kill us.”

“No. I don’t see it that way, not anymore. Think about it. They were out of their minds worrying about Eve, and then they find her with us. They don’t know us from a can of paint, and I think it’s pretty clear that they’re on the run. They see us and they’re terrified that we’re reapers. In their places we might have made the same mistake. But look at it another way—they’re running from evil. They aren’t the reapers. They were willing to fight and kill to protect their little girl. What does that tell you? And there’s all that talk about Sanctuary. Despite what Mother Rose and those other freak jobs said, it doesn’t exactly sound like an abode of evil, does it?”

“No,” she admitted hesitantly.

“No,” he agreed.

“And the people who flew this plane. They were scientists working to understand the plague and maybe cure it. Again, not the definition of evil.”

“No.”

“The American Nation,” Benny said, testing the name and nodding approval. “I say we gather up some of these papers, check out the rest of the plane, then get out of here and find Lilah and Chong.”

“And then what?”

“I’m working on that,” he admitted.

They looked at each other for a long moment.

“I do love you, Benny,” she said.

“I love you, too.”

“Even though I’m a nut?”

“Like I’m well-balanced? Hearing voices, remember?” He grinned at her.

She shook her head in exasperation, but she was smiling, too.

Chapter 69

69

RIOT HELPED CHONG TO HIS FEET AND STEADIED HIM AS HE TOOK A COUPLE of shaky steps. Eve trailed along behind, silent as a ghost. She stayed close, though, as if unwilling to be more than a few feet from Chong’s side.

Chong insisted on taking the bow and arrows with him.

“Why?”

“Well,” he said weakly, “I can shoot. I’m pretty good. And . . . if there are really doctors at Sanctuary, they might want to look at the stuff on the arrowheads.”

“Okay,” she said, and helped him sling the bow and quiver over his shoulder. “How are ya feelin’?”

“I’ve been better,” he admitted. “My legs feel funny, like they fell asleep, but there’s no pins and needles. Funny thing is that the arrow wound doesn’t seem to hurt much.”

“Oh.”

“Yes,” he said dryly, “I’m pretty sure that’s not a good sign.”