They finished the pot in one meal. The fawn had been young and starving. It wasn’t much to eat.

Kyle didn’t wake up. The air around his body was hot, and in sleep he whimpered and moaned. He had soiled himself. They cleaned and cushioned him with grass and leaves.

25

After the fawn died, something changed. Mara tried to hide it. But each time she came into the shelter, she stopped hoping Kyle would be better. She started hoping that he would be dead.

Then one horror, at least, would be over.

She hated herself for the thought, and did her best to ignore it. She tried to scrape the fawn’s hide, but it was delicate and tore easily, and when she had made a handful of coin-sized tears in the tissue-thin leather she gave up and threw it in the lake. When she wasn’t checking on Kyle, she walked, though she didn’t let herself go far, always circling within hearing distance of camp. She found a waterfall over mossy stones that once would have struck her as beautiful. The mist cast rainbows. But beauty didn’t strike her anymore.

When Mara got back, Kyle lay and sweat and shook. He was alone. He was mumbling. Mara felt faint, like her lungs had shrunk to half their size, and even so she couldn’t fill them. She found Ashley outside, sitting by the signal fires, though the flames had burned low.

“He’s bad,” said Mara. It was hard to breathe.

Ashley closed her eyes.

“I know you’re going through something,” said Mara. “I do. And you lost your—your pet, right? I know that’s sad.” It was hard to say the words, but she managed them.

“I killed my pet,” said Ashley.

“It was an accident.”

“No,” said Ashley. “Don’t do that. I knew.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” said Mara. “Kyle’s alone. Can you sit with him?”

“I needed something nice,” said Ashley. “Just for a minute.”

“I can’t do it,” said Mara.

Ashley opened her eyes.

“He needs someone and I can’t do it,” said Mara. “Okay? I can’t sit in the shelter and give Kyle what he needs and I don’t know where Bullfrog is and I can’t just . . .” She stopped, tried to breathe, but the air caught in her throat. “I can’t leave him like that.”

“He goes looking for help,” said Ashley. “Bullfrog.”

“Yes,” said Mara. “I would also love to be looking for help. How convenient. Anywhere but here.”

“He can’t stand it,” said Ashley.

“None of us can stand it,” said Mara.

Ashley nodded.

“Kyle needs you,” said Mara. “Please.”

“He needs something nice,” said Ashley. She stood up; she shivered, and it seemed to shake something free. Her voice was not hers, exactly, but it was steady. “Somebody has to do it.”

Like a ghost, like something superhuman, she went through the shelter door.

Mara sat in the yellow glow of the sun and listened, as if to a radio program, while Ashley talked to Kyle. Flies crawled over her mouth, and she didn’t bother to brush them away. There would just be more. She felt like her skin was humming. Like her chest was full of smoke.