“I think we’re ready,” I said. “We should get going before we get in trouble for camping out at a truck stop.”

“Awesome!” Kenzie said. She drew her phone, then selected the program.

The van bucked visibly as the machinery in the back kicked to life.

“I was able to speed things up just a bit, because having everything in the van meant I was able to bring extra batteries, and I could box it up a bit.”

“Box it up?” Sveta asked.

“I do two things. Like a tinker who does jets and does, I dunno, radiation. They can make jets or they can make radiation, but radiation-powered jets are their best work. For me, it’s cameras and boxes. Box-cameras are best.”

“Inconveniently sized boxes,” Rain said.

“I made this camera inconveniently big for regular carrying. Let’s give this a shot.”

“Let’s be careful not to put images in the middle of the highway,” I said, indicating the cars that were flying past us on the other side of the concrete barrier.

“Done.”

The past-camera kicked into life. All around us, the space began to fill out with dots of color. If she was going to be aware of when we watched her in the present, we would shift our focus from her to her past.

The snow did make things more difficult, each flake becoming a lone thread, with threads joining together into an opaque curtain that marked the wild commonalities in how the air moved, reacting to the passage of cars on the other side of the divider, and the constant outflow from the portal.

Then, much as they’d started to appear and get drawn out, the snowflakes were undone, each trail disappearing one by one. All of the rest of the images started to come together, each one a caterpillar, a long blur that traced the paths the individuals had traveled. The passage of vehicles were like the strokes of fat, crude brushes that crossed out whole sections of the picture.

“I’ve got some data on the Undersiders already,” Kenzie said. “We can narrow this down. I’ll pick some images to lock down by the points in space.”

Tattletale was first. At the Southwestern end of the clearing. Ducking down. She was wearing a coat and earmuffs, alongside her mask and costume. Slowly, the figure right behind her began to fill in. Snuff, standing right behind her, shielding her with his body, one hand extended toward the source of whatever he was shielding her from.

The car was next, filling in. Door open, as Tattletale ducked inside.

All around us, figures were appearing. The kids with dense black waves and curls of hair, most dressed in black, all with masks of their own. Heartbroken.

Imp, stumbling as she tried to shield the kids. One of her arms was gone.

“Any loose arms, Kenz?”

“Weapons?”

I pointed at Imp.