“You are operating out here as if aggression and preying on each other is the only path to survival. It isn’t. It is a self-tightening knot around your own necks. You will lose numbers through attrition and then you will be gone. Other, stronger gangs will overwhelm you. Or you will simply erode your own ability to want to live in a world that is defined by a constant struggle against extermination. You would, in a sense, be fighting on the side of living dead. And even if you managed to survive, your group is too small to survive in any generational way. You would pollute your DNA within a few generations and what is left to survive would be warped by genetical damage. Hardly a long game worth playing.”

The old man stood up and walked over to Dahlia and stood looking down at her. She was tall, but he was taller and seemed to fill the whole clearing with his power.

“Or, you could let me train you to be better advocates for your own right to survive as well as soldiers in a very real fight to preserve humanity. There are probably hundreds of thousands of people left in North America. Maybe even millions. Globally, probably ten or twenty times that many. They will tear themselves apart if they follow the kind of mindset you clearly have embraced. And they have other dangers to face. The rise of diseases that were kept in check by the medical infrastructure and which will now return with a vengeance.”

“Why us?”

“Because you’re young,” he said. “Because you have made mistakes but you haven’t corrupted yourselves so thoroughly that you’re beyond saving. Because you care for the people in your group, which means you still have compassion. Because I would rather take a risk on you than bury you.”

Trash got to his feet. “Fuck this and fuck you, you old fuck. You can make all the bullshit threats you want, and maybe it’ll work on some assholes, but not me. You’re some kind of psycho motherfucker and we’re out of here.”

He looked around, clearly waiting for the others to join him. Nathan and Serena rose and moved to stand with him. Jumper and Slow Dog stayed where they were. So did Dahlia. She saw the surprise and hurt bloom on Trash’s face.

“Dahlia . . . come on . . . ”

“Trash,” she said quickly, “maybe he’s right.”

“What? You’re buying this shit? He’s conning you, D. He’s conning all of us. He’s running some kind of game.”

She walked over to him. “Is he? He could have straight up killed us. All of us. If he was running a game, then explain to me why he didn’t.”