Clay’s brow furrows. “You cold?” He stands. “I’ll get you a jacket.”

I reach up, grab his sleeve and pull him back down. I throw on a smile. “Sit down. Just someone walking over my grave.”

Hatch belches, stands and lumbers off, undoing his overalls. I watch his hair speckled back recede in the distance. This is my chance. Once he’s gone, I lean toward Clay. “What about my mama? We can’t just leave her there. Who knows how long she’ll hold out?”

Clay locks eyes on the chicken in his hands. “Riley, I know you’re worried, but we can’t just rush into the Breeder’s hospital guns blazing. There ain’t nothing we can do till we get home. After that, we’ll …” He finally looks up at me. “We’ll come up with a plan.”

I pull back sharply. “What’re you saying? Leave her there? We can’t leave her there. That,” I say, pointing somewhere in the distance, “is my mother!”

“Riley, listen.” He turns to me. “I know you love your ma, but it can’t work. I just don’t see—”

“Of course you don’t see,” I say, standing up. Fire burns through my brain. There’s no stopping what comes out, no matter how ugly it is. “You’re the one who let his pa sell his own mother to the Breeders. Did you help pack her bags?”

Anger rushes into his face. “That’s not fair,” he says, his voice controlled only barely. “I was just a little kid. I don’t even remember her.”

“What’s not fair,” I say, my voice trembling, “is my mama turned into a living corpse left to rot in a basement.” I clench my fists. “That is NOT fair.”

Clay shoulders tighten as he glowers into the fire. “You’re ready to fight the Breeders?” He turns to me, eyes blazing. “The most heavily armed, well-guarded place in the whole goddamn world!?” He stands and points a finger in my face. “You’re recklessness will get you killed! And him, too!” He points at Ethan.

I stand. “Don’t bring him into it.” I shoot a glance to Ethan. He’s staring at us wide-eyed, a chicken leg dangling forgotten in his hand.