“I don’t think I’m following you.”
“I just can’t be your first . . . not in good conscience.”
She waited for him to clarify. “My first what?”
He ran a hand over his face. “I think you should have more time in your new, free life to choose exactly who you want . . .”
She wasn’t sure what he meant. “Who I want?”
He sat back down next to her. “Never mind. I’m okay now. Sorry about that.” His eyes met hers, and she could feel the same visceral link pass between them. Her lips ached to feel his again. He snapped his gaze away, staring out. Taking a few deep breaths, he flexed his hands, curling and uncurling his fingers. Then he bent his head forward, exhaling. “Listen,” he said. “If you’re going to catch up with the Rovers, and if they really are a thousand miles away, you’re going to need something much faster than a car.” He met her eyes. “You need to fly.”
“Fly? Like in an airship?” She thought of the massive ship that had rained fire down on them.
“Not exactly. There’s an old airfield not far from here. It used to be a gathering place for pilots, but there aren’t many left now. Though I’ve heard that one landed there a few days ago. He might still be there. And he might help you. It’ll be a hell of a lot easier to fly over Delta City than to try to cross it on foot. You can’t skirt around it. It reaches south into the gulf, and all the way up to the Great Lakes. You’d have to go through the city itself to make it out west, or journey either very far south or north to get a boat. Flying is your best bet.”
She didn’t relish the thought of going back into Murder City. “Can you tell me where the airfield is?”
“Better yet, I’ll take you there.”
He stood up to open up the door and peer outside. She followed him. Parts of the terrain around them still burned. Rowan stepped out carefully, gazing up at the sky. “Looks clear. We need to leave before they come back with more troopers.”
He moved back to the car, H124 at his rear. Climbing in the passenger seat, she looked across at him. “What about the others?”
“They’ll have moved on to the other camps by now, scattered, as we’re about to do.” He pulled out his PRD, checking their secret channel. “No chatter. No one needing help.”
She leaned over, looking at the display. “Anything about Byron?”
He scrolled through a few pages. “Taking refuge in Rusted Knife Camp with Dirk and Astoria. All is well.”
“Where’s Rusted Knife Camp?”
“South of here.”
“And this airfield?”
“North.”
She sighed, glad they were okay. She leaned back in the seat. Flying. She was going to fly.
Rowan backed the car through the mine entrance and flipped around, starting down a steep embankment. He left the headlights off. In the distance, a faint light glowed in the east. Her eyes stung with fatigue.
“Why don’t you try to catch some Z’s?” he asked her.
“Catch some Z’s?”
“Sleep.”
She didn’t understand the connection, but settled into her seat all the same. Rowan took off his jacket and bundled it up, making a pillow, then handed it to her.
“Thank you,” she said, propping the jacket up against the glass. She let her eyes close.
Two hours later she struggled to wake, feeling stiff and cramped. “Aren’t you tired?” she asked. The sun had risen, revealing a bleak landscape of broken cement and burned-out buildings.
“Just a bit. But I need to get you to the airfield and then regroup with everyone at Rusted Knife Camp.”
“How far are we?”
He slowed the car. “This is it now.”
She peered out at a vast flatland with a few small rusted buildings that lacked walls and, in some places, roofs. Two paved roads stretched parallel into the horizon, pitted and potholed.
“This is an airfield?”
“Not much to look at, I know. Hardly anyone flies anymore. Not many planes left.”
“What’s a plane?”
“An airship of sorts. With wings.” Rowan scanned the airfield. “Hopefully, the pilot is still there. Hard to tell. He usually stashes his plane out of sight in that building.” He pointed at a shed with several pieces of rusted metal propped against it, covering an ingress.
“Should we go see?”
He looked at her regretfully. “This is as far as I better go.”
She contorted her face.
“I think you’ll have better luck convincing him to take you if I’m not there.”
“Why?” She found herself reluctant to go alone, yet chastised herself for it. She’d been alone since Rowan left her outside New Atlantic until the Badlanders had picked her up outside Delta City. But now she felt the pang of not wanting to leave him. She’d never needed anyone before, so she shoved the feeling away. She was out to save the world, wasn’t she? Not take comfort in people she met along the way, however different they might be from those she’d been raised among.
“The Badlanders haven’t always been kind to this place. He might shoot me on sight.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“I don’t think he’ll shoot you. No one would mistake you for a Badlander. Don’t worry. He can be trusted.”
“So he can be trusted as long as he doesn’t shoot me?” She started to get out of the car. Then he took her hand. She felt the heat of his fingers as he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Take care out there, H.” Their eyes locked. Then he pulled her back into the car and brushed her face. His lips met hers, and that familiar shock zinged through her. She kissed him back. Then he let her go. “I expect to see you again,” he said. “Somewhere. I’ll stay here until you’re safely off.”
A painful lump formed in her throat. Then she grabbed her bag and got out of the car. “Take care of my car, okay?” she asked. She wanted to say something
