more than half a mile, which was more than he’d expected. The slope helped. Ruth moved like a broken doll. He didn’t even think she could see where they were going. She just leaned against him and wheeled her legs as best she could, kicking at him.
They blundered on until Cam smashed them into a tree. It was like waking up.
He angled uphill again into a clump of saplings that might hide them from anyone else heading down the mountain. Maybe he would hear them on the road, too.
Ruth fell onto her back, heaving for air. Cam dropped his pack and tried to ‚nd water. There was none. He still had one can of soup left, though, and found the can opener. Some of the precious juice slopped out when he wrenched off the lid.
“Ruth?” he said. “Ruth.” He took off his own goggles ‚rst. The cold night felt amazing and strange and he breathed it in to be sure he’d feel a nano infection before her. Then he stripped her goggles and jacket. Body heat leapt from her like a phantom.
He helped her drink, cradling her cheek against his shoulder. Maybe ten minutes passed that way. A small peace. He ruined it himself. He thought to kiss her. It was a simple thing. She was the only softness in his world and he’d ‚nally worn through his own defenses.
He studied her lips, still smooth and perfect despite the sweat, dirt, and creases left by her armor. She reacted. Her eyes shifted to his and he saw her recognize the intent in his face, the one spark of desire inside all his exhaustion and hurt. He turned away.
“Cam.” Her voice was a murmur and she put her good hand on his leg. “Cam, look at me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.” Ruth moved her glove to his rough, bearded cheek. “Please, no. I owe you everything.”
“Just once,” she said. “Please. For luck.”
Then she did exactly the wrong — or right — thing. She lifted her face and gently leaned her nose against his cheekbone, showing him what her skin would feel like.
Cam pressed his mouth to hers and it gave him new energy. It changed the long tension between them. All around them, things were worse than ever, but this one small act was sweet and right.
He arranged her pack for her like a pillow and set their guns on the ground beside them. Ruth was quickly unconscious. Cam brie†y watched the stars through the trees overhead. Once he brought his bandaged left hand to his ruined lips and the concave on one side where his missing teeth had been.
* * * *
She kissed him again in the morning without saying anything ‚rst, tugging her mask down and then reaching for his, a quick kiss with her mouth shut. Maybe it was fortunate that they had so many more pressing needs.
“We have to ‚nd water,” he said.
“Yes.”
Ruth kept close as he dug the radio out of his pack and he looked sideways at her, distracted. They were both faceless again in their goggles and hoods, but Ruth touched his shoulder and nodded. Sunlight played on their ‚lthy jackets, rocking down through the trees. They needed to get moving, but he dreaded it. His knee had stiffened, his back, his neck, and his feet were battered and raw.
The radio was full of voices on seven channels. Maybe it had always been that way, but they’d been blocked from the noise by the mountains and the jamming of Leadville’s forward base. Neither of those obstacles existed anymore.
All of the broadcasts were military. All of them sounded American, too, except for one woman with an accent. “Condor, Condor, this is Snow Owl Five, we can af‚rm One One Four. Repeat, we can af‚rm One One Four.”
“She sounds French,” Ruth said.
Most of it was in similar code, numbers and bird names. It should have been reassuring to hear so much commotion. America was still on its feet, even now.
Cam didn’t trust them. He understood that if Newcombe was gone, it was up to him to get Ruth to safety. He needed to make contact with the rebel forces, but it would be very, very dif‚cult to take that gamble and reach out into the airwaves. Worse, all of the frequencies Newcombe had said to use were occupied. Cam’s instinct was to stay quiet.
They shared three sports bars for breakfast and choked down a handful of pills, too, four aspirin apiece and two antihistamine tablets. The drug would increase their grogginess but the ant bites felt awful and they were both scratching.
At last, Cam broadcast right on top of the other noise. “Newcombe,” he said. “Newcombe, you there?” The voices didn’t notice. He lacked the transmitting power to reach Utah or Idaho and apparently there wasn’t anyone listening nearby, either.
They were alone.
* * * *
They hiked.
* * * *
They hiked and Cam made sure not to rush her. The slower pace also allowed him to watch the terrain more carefully. They walked into a termite swarm and quickly backed off, not wanting to disturb the bugs. The front edge of the swarm rolled into the sky but Cam hoped the movement wasn’t unusual enough to attract the interest of anyone watching the valley. That was important. He couldn’t see much through the trees, but there were still planes overhead and the enemy must have observers on the mountaintops. Once a jet whipped past low enough to shake the forest. Had it been hunting them with infrared?
Cam led her to a creek an hour later and they both fell onto the crumbling bank. He leaned his mouth straight into the water. Ruth had a harder time with only one arm. She scooped her glove up to her lips again and again until Cam gained control of himself and ‚lled her canteen.
“Not too much,” he said. “It’ll make you sick.”
Ruth only nodded and laughed, splashing water on her face and scalp. The sound was a tired coughing but she laughed, and Cam was trans‚xed by it.
In some ways their wounds and exhaustion had left them childlike. Their vision was becoming more and more immediate, limited to the moment. Maybe that was good. No one’s sanity could endure pain without end. It was a survival mechanism. But it was also dangerous.
Cam forced himself to get up and walk away from her to ‚nd a better vantage point.
“Wait.” Ruth scrambled to her feet.
“I’m just looking—”
“Wait!”
He let her catch up. He found an opening in the trees where they could gaze back over the long rising shapes of the mountains both west and south. There was smoke in both directions, towering up from the forest.
“Let’s sleep,” he said. “Okay?”
Ruth nodded, but she waited to make sure he sat down before she did, too, leaning her shoulder against his. It was an odd kind of love. Sisterly, yes. They were both unreachable in their ‚lthy armor, but that would be different at safe elevation and the thought of her was strong and good. It was a new reason to live.
Cam monitored Newcombe’s channels again. Ruth napped. A cloud of black †ies found them and buzzed and crawled but didn’t wake her. Neither did the whispering radio. The sun hung at noon for what seemed like a very long time and Cam silently held her.
* * * *
He woke himself when Newcombe said, “David Six, this is George. Do you copy? David Six.”
The transition from sleep to consciousness eluded him for too long. Cam fumbled the headset over his hood and upped the volume, thumbing his send button. “This is Cam. Are you there? Hey, it’s Cam.”
Cam stared at the thin control box. Should he switch frequencies? “Newcombe!” he said on 6, then changed
