“Yes,” he said. He didn’t elaborate.
“Where will you go?” she asked.
The silence was deafening. At last he said, “Come with us.”
She laughed, a little too harshly, she felt. But then she had become a harsh person. “To where? To Barley’s? No ... absolutely no. They’re on their own. I’ve got a kid to think about. You ... you’re not actually going to continue on there. Are you?”
He turned to face her slowly. “There’s nowhere else to go. I think you know that. Come with us. You know as well as I do there’s nothing back the way we came. You said so yourself, your car’s been your primary weapon. What will you do when a pack or raptors or worse finds you on the open plain—kill them all with your six bullets? And what then; what will you do when the bullets run out, when there’s not even enoug
