“Just want to,” Nam answered.

“I don’t know what to tell you, kid. That’s a bad decision.”

“It’s fine.”

They trod on together in silence until Rose was sure they were far enough away that they wouldn’t be found. There wasn’t enough light left to walk safely. They set up the stolen tent and fell asleep almost right away, then started out the next day before the light even had a chance to fully return.

It went on like this for two days: walking to exhaustion, eating random greens, conserving water with sips, sleeping like the dead. And then they came across a small group—just a man and a small child—living in the middle of a circle of spruce. Like she had done years before when she’d first been on her own and found Miig’s group, Rose watched from the periphery. When she’d clocked that their only weapons seemed to be a couple of steak knives and that the man was old and slow, they approached.

They didn’t stay for a meal or accept his invitation to set up their tent for the night. What they did do was get as much information as they could. Word was that the network of nurses had been uncovered. There was chaos and death in the forest. The man said things were heating up at the border. People were starting to head south. If you could get through the flatlands—and that was a big if—the Appalachians and the swamps below them were supposed to be safe.

Without wavering, Rose thanked him for his information and wished them well and, with Nam beside her, pushed through the spruce.

“Wait,” he called out to her. His voice cracked like the skin on his hands. The breath whistling through his loose teeth smelled of sickness, something deep and solid. “You have to take the boy.”

He pointed to the five-year-old sitting quiet by their lean-to. If the boy heard, he didn’t let on.

“He’s real silent. Raised him without words, mostly.” The old man approached them, walking like one does near animals—slow and even, no sudden movements. “He can’t stay with me. I’m…I’m dying.”

Rose looked him in the eye. “I know.”

“So, so then, please…please. You have to take him with you. I can’t imagine him all alone out here. He can’t hunt yet.” He tried to smile, putting his fingers together in the universal symbol of prayer.

Nam took a step toward the boy, and Rose grabbed them by the arm. “We can’t.”

“You can. You have to.” The man was getting desperate. Nam swiped their eyes, wiggling the slightest bit to release their arm from Rose’s grip.

“We aren’t headed anywhere good. He’s better off here, with or without you.” Rose turned quick and slipped through the hard needles on the branches, pulling Nam behind her. Walking away, they heard the old man wail. They kept walking, didn’t stop for the night until even the moon turned away from them and into the clouds.