Enclave

I didn’t explain that request either. Fade pushed to his feet. “I’ll go see about getting a couple of birds for dinner.”

He was wicked quick with a rock. Often he could stun one with a throw and then snap its neck while it lay helpless. After the long day, I had no taste for food — I only wanted to sleep, but I couldn’t leave Tegan unguarded. Maybe I wouldn’t be much protection in my condition, but she was still unconscious.

Before they left, I made sure my knives sat within easy reach. I wasn’t sure I could get up if my life depended on it, but cutting the muscle behind the knee would do a lot of damage and bring the attacker down to my level. I watched the approach through the smoky filter over my eyes; it gave the world a peculiar green haze.

By the time Stalker returned, I felt light-headed. He bent to stoke the fire, and I grabbed his forearms in both hands. “Don’t let that go out. Promise me.”

“I’ll watch it.”

“No, promise me you’ll keep it burning.”

From his expression, he thought the wound had driven me a little crazy. But he said, “I swear. I’ll go back for more wood as often as I have to.”

That was all I needed. Darkness swept me away, deep as a night-kissed river.

When I woke, night had fallen. Tegan thrashed in a feverish sleep, and I felt none too healthy myself. The smell of roasting meat filled the air. That was welcome.

“Feeling better?” Fade asked. “Here.”

He passed me the water bottle, and I could see how little we had left. With the rise of the moon and stars, the air cooled as well. The fire banished some of the chill. I drank a little, taking care with it. There was no telling how far we’d come, or where we would find the next clean water.

“Hungry?” Stalker sliced some meat for me and held it on the tip of his blade until it cooled.

I ate it in two bites and wished for more, but I could see there wasn’t much. “Has Tegan woken?”

Fade shook his head. “Not once. She keeps asking for her mom.”

“We should get moving,” Stalker said, starting to kick dust in the fire to damp it.

“No!” I half pushed to my feet and staggered, astounded at how much I still hurt. I clutched my side, nausea rising. I hoped I wouldn’t lose my food. I needed it.

“You want to stay here through the night?” Fade asked.

Not just through the night. I couldn’t explain my irrational certainty, but Silk had been telling me something, something important, with the fire. We had to stay here and tend it. I just knew if we went roaming off, we were going to die, and nobody would ever hear our story, none of it.

But I couldn’t put my conviction in any terms that made sense, so I just said, “Yes. Maybe she’ll be stronger by morning.”

But she wasn’t.

At dawn, Tegan burned hot as the fire I insisted on tending. I bathed her with the last of the water and tried to get her to drink some. She thrashed and moaned and cried. Tears ran down her cheeks until she didn’t have any left.

Glancing up, I saw the suggestion in Stalker’s eyes. We can spare her this. End it now and move on, before we’re too weak. If I had been going solely on my Huntress instincts, I would’ve agreed with him. But I had more, now.

“Give her until nightfall,” I said softly. “The two of you go see if you can find any water. Get more wood.”

Stalker raised his brows. “You’re obsessed with that fire.”

Yes, I was. Keep the fire burning, Silk had said. It was a promise we would survive, as long as we did. I wouldn’t fail her.

“I’ll go hunting again,” Fade said. “I’ll do better today.”

“Thanks.” Food wasn’t my primary concern today, though. Water and wood, those we couldn’t live without.

Once they had gone, I whispered to her. Little things the Breeders had said to me over the years, and then I read to her from the ABC book. “A is for Apple…”

Sometimes she cried. Sometimes she smiled. Once, she opened her eyes and tried to sit up but she didn’t see me. I pushed her sweaty hair off her forehead and knew the most awful fear — that I’d lose her, before I got to tell her how much she mattered.

“Don’t die,” I said. “You’re my only friend.”

She was different; she didn’t demand anything. There were no confusing layers with Tegan. I could talk to her — and that was all I meant by it, though it might’ve hurt Fade if he heard me. I didn’t care.

Maybe now I knew how Fade had felt about Banner and Pearl. I’d never lost friends like this. I hadn’t seen their bodies. I suspected Thimble and Stone were gone, like the rest of the enclave. He was right; it was different, and I understood him more. I wished I could go back and offer all the little kindnesses and comforts I’d withheld without realizing he needed them.

“Don’t leave,” she whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay with you.”

“I don’t like it when you leave, Mama.” She clutched my arms with weak fingers, but she saw someone else imposed upon my skin. I imagined her mother, sneaking out for food, and leaving Tegan by herself. In the enclave, I’d never been alone.

There were different kinds of strength. I knew that now. It didn’t always come from a knife or a willingness to fight. Sometimes it came from endurance, where the well ran deep and quiet. Sometimes it came from compassion and forgiveness.

The guys were gone a long time, and Tegan finally quieted, but it wasn’t a good rest, like when a fever breaks. It was more that she had exhausted all her energy fighting, and now she would just die.

This time, Fade came back first, bearing several birds and a rabbit. He also had water for us to boil in the pot we’d taken from our winter home. “I found a pond. It was pretty shallow and muddy, but…” He shrugged.

At this point, we couldn’t be picky. Heat would kill most of the bad things in it, but it took time to cool. By that point, Tegan’s lips were dry and cracked. I tipped it down her throat and she swallowed, but I had no hope it was a long-term cure. When I checked her wound, it had started to swell. Oh, no.

Fade’s face went grim, but he set to work on the birds and rabbits, skinning and deboning far enough away that the entrails wouldn’t attract scavengers while we slept.

Later, Stalker returned with an armload of wood. He must’ve ranged farther this time.

He confirmed my guess by saying, “I did a patrol around the area. Seems quiet enough.”

“Good to hear.” We didn’t need more Freaks.

He sat down beside me and touched his fingers to my forehead. “You’re burning up, dove. Have you had anything to drink today?”

“I was saving it for Tegan.”

“Why?” he asked, genuinely puzzled. “She’s not getting better. You might.”

Fade passed me a bottle, now refilled with the lukewarm water. I drank some slowly, conscious of how sore my throat had become. I did feel warm, now that Stalker had pointed it out. I’d assumed it was the proximity to the fire.

“Because she’s one of us,” I said finally. “And I’m tired of giving up.”

Stalker shook his head. “Accepting the inevitable is not like giving up.”

Fade gave a bitter half-smile. “Yes, it is.”

“Well, she can’t walk, and I’m not carrying her this time.”

“I will.” Fade started cooking.

I knew Stalker would want to leave as soon as we’d eaten. With every part of me, I knew we couldn’t. We had to stay here. We had to keep the fire burning. Maybe it was the fever talking. Maybe I hadn’t seen Silk at all.

But I couldn’t believe that, or I’d have to accept Tegan was dying, nothing we could do would save her, and there was nothing better out there. Just more Freaks and empty land and silent despair. Before I realized it, tears