They walked. Nor did they stop until they’d reached Lonepine, which wasn’t so much a town as a pair of houses—both of them ramshackle and overgrown and completely devoid of power—one of which Williams, Sheila, and the kids set up camp in, while Peter and Samantha sequestered themselves in the other. Ank, meanwhile, had to make do with a yellowed patch of lawn between the two. Fortunately, there were several small ponds nearby from which he could drink, which was what he was doing when Williams stepped out onto the porch to have a cigar.
He wondered what the great beast was thinking that he should now seem so sullen and withdrawn, but supposed his injuries, along with the added burden of having travelled so many miles with the supplies on his back (which Williams had relieved him of once t
