We shifted, avoiding eye contact. Before seeing the compound, we’d figured we were probably on a suicide mission. Seeing the number of Drones around the place had removed any doubt. Patrick had his shotgun, Alex the revolver, and of course I had the rifle. We’d never made the vow out loud—we never had to—but we all knew we’d never allow ourselves to be taken alive.

“Sure,” I said. “See you tomorrow.”

Thump. Squelch.

Every delay cost another life. The pressure felt like something tangible, smashing in from all sides.

Patrick leaned back, his knees cracking, and hiked the pack higher on his shoulders. Alex stepped beside him.

Here’s where we parted ways. Them in one direction. Me another.

Like always.

Knowing that this was probably the last time we’d see each other, I swallowed back any bitterness. I hugged my brother. There was nothing more to say.

Then Alex reached for me.

Patrick started upslope, giving us a moment of privacy. She put her hands on my face and looked deep into my eyes. My thoughts tumbled, catching me in a white-water swirl. There was so much I wanted to tell her but nothing I could say.

She leaned forward and gave me a kiss at the corner of my lips.

“Good luck, Little Rain,” she said.

“Bye, Blanton.”

Her eyes watered, but she turned quickly away.

I watched as they vanished into the foliage, Alex hurrying to catch up to my brother, her hand swinging to find his. Their part of the mission—making themselves the target of the Drones’ wrath instead of me—was just as scary as mine, but I couldn’t help feel a sliver of envy that they’d be together right up until the end.

Thump. Squelch.

The sound called me to the task at hand. I had to decide on a shooting location. Closing my eyes, I exhaled, scattering all thoughts of Alex and my brother to the wind. In my mind’s eye, I scanned the terrain between me and the cannery, terrain I’d forged across last time when I’d gone to get Alex. I picked my spot. And my hiding place.

When I opened my eyes, I was ready.

Bellying down in the earth, moving the rifle ahead of me, I crawled through the weeds. I angled toward the muddy ruts beside the storage warehouse where the bulldozer had been parked.

I forced myself to take it slow. I was hunting now. A hunter in a hurry never brought home a deer. I tried to make myself invisible. Just another piece of the land.