Hayes woke to the arm.
"Hold still. Almost done."
Lilith's voice came through the haze. She was wrapping gauze around the bite. The pain ran from the torn forearm all the way into his hand. He kept the limb where she put it because pulling away would have been worse. The skin was a hard, angry red.
A day had passed. He was in Odis's bed.
He sat up weak and slow and made himself walk to the workshop.
The smell met him first. Ronos still lay on the floor, that bloody grin fixed in place. Death had not taken it off him.
The ham radio was untouched. Hayes powered it on.
Warning to all intelligent life on Earth. You have six days to join humanity on the fleet. The fleet will be discontinuing its last outpost on the west coast. Again: six days. This broadcast will update daily with the remaining time before departure.
Six days. He had left the outlands only once before, hunting medicine for his mother. He did not know how long the coast would take. He knew they could not wait.
He found Lilith in the yard with a shovel. A stout body lay beside the hole. She was burying her father.
Hayes took the second shovel in the bandaged hand, winced, and dug anyway. Dirt. No talk. When the grave was closed she went inside without looking at him.
He followed her to her room. Her back was to the door.
"I'm sorry about your father."
He stepped to the side. Her face was wet and raw. He put his arms around her.
"I was going to leave him," she said. "We were going to leave him here."
She broke the hug and left the room. Hayes sat there with the truth of it. The choice had been right. The cost was still the cost.
He packed anyway. Checked the bike. Found her in the kitchen with toast she was not really eating.
"We have to go. I know it hurts. We still have to go."
She did not answer.
He took her shoulders and shook her once.
"Do you think he wanted you to die in this yard? The settlement is gone. We are leaving."
They rolled out that afternoon. Lilith sat behind him. Every input with the left arm cost him. The sharp pain had dulled into a deep ache that did not clock out.
The road became sand and stayed sand. No buildings. No green. Six hours in, the arm started going numb. He needed walls or he would dump them both in the open.
An old rest stop rose out of the waste. Bathrooms. Good enough.
"We stop here tonight."
Lilith said nothing. She took her pack into the women's side. Hayes walked the bike into the men's, threw a tarp down, and dropped.
He woke to her over him, a rag wiping sweat off his face.
He forced himself upright. The room tilted. His sight went thin.
"How long?"
Lilith held up two fingers.
"Two days? We have to move—"
She pushed both hands down. Stay.
He knew she was right. If he tried the bike now he would kill them on the first turn. He lay back.
Another day passed before he could ride. She stayed with him the whole time—water, gauze, the quiet work of keeping a body from quitting.
Three days left when they mounted again.
Twelve hours west. The ache was only an ache now. Ahead, wrecked cars sat across the road.
Trap.
Nothing else on this run had tried to stop them. He halted short and they walked the bike into the coarse sand, hauling it around the blockade. Salt was in the air. Close.
Then he saw the men behind the cars. One head threw a hard glare of light.
Binoculars.
"Drop it. Run."
The lookout tore the glasses off and waved the rest into the chase. Packs made Hayes and Lilith slow. The gap closed.
Four of them.
Lilith already had a bolt seated.
THUNK.
Forehead. The first man went down. Three.
Hayes moved to meet the charge. The crossbow would not be ready in time.
BANG.
The lead raider took the blast in the chest. A hole you could put a fist through. The last two froze—then saw the shotgun hit the sand. Recoil had torn it out of the bad arm.
Tire iron. Nail-board. They came on sure of themselves.
Hayes only needed seconds. He glanced back. Lilith was almost there. The iron arrived first and caught him in the side. He clamped the bar, pinned that arm, and held on. Every breath after that hurt.
The board came overhead. He dragged the tire-iron man into the path.
WHACK.
"FUCK—"
The nails found the wrong shoulder. That raider dropped with the iron. The board man killed most of his own follow-through, reset, and swung sideways.
Too fast.
WHACK.
The board smashed the bitten arm and broke on the hit. Hayes went down. The raider followed him to the dirt and drove fists into the same ribs the iron had opened. Hayes covered his throat.
THUNK.
The man on top of him went slack and fell across his chest, eyes empty.
Lilith had seated the second bolt.
The last raider looked at his dead partner and sprinted for her.
A hand came out from under the body and caught his ankle. He went down. Hayes crawled out after him, knife already out, and put it in the man's chest.
Again. Again.
"AHHH—"
The raider had been dead for heartbeats. Hayes did not notice. The only thought left was that she did not get to die here. She was what he had left.
"Stop. Stop. He's dead."
Lilith came in from behind and wrapped her arms around him. The heat of her broke the loop. His hands slowed. His heart came down in pieces.
He stood off the body the hard way. Breath ragged. Arm on fire. Alive.
They rode one more hour, watching for a light. At dusk a gated tower showed itself, lamp burning at the center.
The outpost.
Hayes made the last stretch on stubbornness and then the ground came up to meet him. Boots and hands lifted him. They lifted Lilith too.
The gate closed behind them.