“Walls,” she said.

“Tell me more.”

“The window. Clouds in a blue sky.”

“Good. Clouds and a blue sky. Where are you?”

“Nowhere,” she said. “We’re not anywhere.”

“Apart from that.”

“Lost.”

“Yes, but apart from that. Where are you right now?”

“In the cabin with you.”

Mara nodded, and the walls blurred. “Yes. That’s right.”

“There’s flies,” said Ashley, and they both laughed, and then Ashley’s laugh turned back into a sob and she was shaking all over, choking like she was dying while Mara stroked her hair, choking until she could breathe again.

“It smells like smoke,” Mara said. “We smell like smoke. But clean.”

“Blankets.”

“Flannel shirts.”

“An inchworm,” Ashley said, and Mara followed her gaze to the shelf. A caterpillar had reached the end of the wood and reared into space, feeling for anything, and then it bent itself in half and turned around.

“This is all that’s real,” Mara said. “Do you understand? This is the only thing that’s real. There’s nothing else. It’s just us. It’s just Bullfrog and us.”

“Mara.” In a quiet voice. “I need to tell you.”

“Tell me.”

They lay together for a long time. Finally Ashley spoke.

“He didn’t ask me to shoot him,” she said.

Mara couldn’t tell if she felt surprised. She felt that nothing in the world could surprise her anymore. But she knew what she had to give Ashley, the only thing left that could help.

“He did,” she said. “I heard him ask you.”

“No,” said Ashley. “You weren’t there. It was just me, and he was moaning, and I couldn’t stand it anymore—”

“I think you’re so scared and sad that you can’t remember. But you have to trust me. I was right there, I heard the whole thing. He asked you, Ashley. He was sure. And you helped him.”

Ashley was quiet for a long time.

“I don’t remember that,” she said.

“You don’t have to remember it. I do. I do because—because I couldn’t help him, but you could. I wish you’d mentioned this weeks ago. I could have told you then. I’m so sorry you’ve been remembering it wrong. What a terrible thing to think.”

“He asked me?”

“He was begging you, Ashley.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” said Mara. “I promise.”

“DO YOU WANT ME TO LET GO OF YOU?” MARA ASKED.

Ashley shook her head.

THE HOURS PASSED. BULLFROG BUSTLED AROUND, REARRANGING STACKS OF CANS. The patches of light on the floor and the wall were fading. “Do you want me to let go of you?” Mara asked.

“Okay,” said Ashley.

When Mara loosened her arms, Ashley slid to the ground like liquid. She lay there until Mara lifted her up, and brought her back to the cot, and together they lay down to sleep. Ashley slept quietly through the night.

32

A full moon came and went. The bushes were thick with blackberries that fell at a touch, thumping like raindrops. The survivors ate until their hands and faces were stained red, their wrists and fingers pricked with thorns. The season hadn’t changed yet, but it would.