She heard footsteps and took a silent step backward, training her rifle on the door. Xochi and Hobb stood beside her. How many are there? she thought frantically, trying to sort out how many voices she’d heard. Three? Four? Could there have been more that hadn’t spoken?

“Caviar sounds worse than fish,” said another. “Artichokes, though. I think those come in cans.”

The door pushed forward half an inch. Ariel poised her finger over the trigger, ready to fire, but the door stopped moving.

“Wait a minute,” said a voice. “You’re going to love this.”

“Nothing in the bar will still be good,” said another voice. “It’ll all be separated, like the gasoline.”

“Not all of it,” said the first voice. The door closed again. “Stashed behind the bar they’ve got two unopened bottles of wine, completely sealed.”

“Don’t taunt me.”

“I’m not.”

Ariel heard a clink of glass, followed by a cheer. Definitely more than three voices, she thought, but she couldn’t tell how many.

Xochi lowered her rifle. After a long pause, Hobb did the same. Ariel stepped quietly backward to Isolde and pressed her cheek to the other girl’s ear, whispering as softly as she could. “Can you keep walking?”

“If I have to.”

“They won’t be occupied for long,” said Ariel. “We need to get out this back door before they come looking for food.” She turned to the others and motioned toward the door. They crept toward it slowly, one foot at time, barely even daring to breathe.

All of them but Kessler.

The older woman stayed rooted in place, staring at the kitchen door. Come on! thought Ariel. She waved her over, trying to get her attention. Nandita was already by the back door, her hand poised to open it. Kessler turned toward them, finding Isolde. Her eyes were sad, but her jaw was set and determined.

I’m sorry, she mouthed.

Ariel screamed in her head, Don’t do it!

“Help us,” said Kessler loudly. “We have a sick child, and we need medicine. Can you help us?”

“No!” screamed Isolde.

The room beyond exploded in sound, four or five or ten Partial soldiers all standing up at once, glasses falling with a crash. “Who’s there? Identify yourselves!”

“We need your help,” said Kessler again. “The child is dying.”

“I won’t let you hurt him!” howled Isolde, clutching Khan to her chest. Kessler strode toward her, whispering softly, trying to speak as Hobb held her back.

“No one will hurt him,” she whispered. “They’ll just see him and get sick and take it back to their outpost to infect everyone else. We may lose a few days, but we’ll be safer, we won’t have any more patrols to worry about, we’ll be free—”