At the same time, Samantha ‚nally spoke up. “It doesn’t look like your vaccine works very well,” she said, gazing at Cam. “I’m sorry. I just have to say that.”
“All of this happened before we got the nanotech,” Cam explained, gesturing at his face, but it was no accident that he’d kept his gloves on, hiding his hands.
“The vaccine works,” Newcombe said.
“This will be the most important thing you ever do,” Cam said, meeting Brandon’s eyes for an instant before turning to Alex and D Mac. They were the ones he really wanted, but D Mac was frowning and Alex seemed uncharacteristically quiet.
Alex was waiting for Samantha and her father, even as D Mac made his ‚rst small break from them.
“How do we get it?” D Mac said. “I mean, is it a needle?” he asked, and then Brandon and Mike ‚lled the circle with words, leaning forward as they competed to be heard.
“So you’re on the rebel side—”
“—but how do we know—”
“You have a duty,” Newcombe told them.
“I’m not sure we want any part of this war,” Ed said, and Cam understood. The man had seen these children through the entire plague year. His paternal instincts would be cut deep in him. He must have given up any hope of changing things and begun to plan through the grim, impossible chore of enduring in this place, breeding his daughter with each of the boys.
They’d surely talked about it — their limited genetics, the maximum population this string of islands could sustain. Cam couldn’t see how else it would have played out. Ed must have used the promise of her to keep them patient until Samantha was old enough not to complicate her childbirth, and somehow their discipline had held. He’d done well, but now it was ‚nished.
“You go or you don’t get the vaccine,” Newcombe said. “I’m sorry, but that’s the way it has to be.”
“We’re not asking you to ‚ght anyone,” Cam said.
“You are,” Ed said. “They’re looking for you. They’ll look for us, too.”
“You’re still Americans,” Newcombe said. “You can be a part of that again. Just help us spread the nanotech. That’s all we want. Just help a few people like we helped you.”
“That sounds pretty good, Dad,” Brandon said.
“But the planes,” Ed said.
“You’re still Americans,” Newcombe repeated, looking around at their frayed uniforms and B.S.A. caps. He was obviously ready to draw on their past and their patriotism.
Cam could see it would be much easier than that. Alex might stick with Samantha. He was the tightest with her, but the other teenagers were restless and girl-hungry and excited. “Listen,” he said. “Those other mountains over there are just the beginning. There’ll be people everywhere who will be very, very happy to see you.”
Samantha shook her head. “It’s so dangerous.”
Yes, Cam thought, looking at the boys instead of Ed and his daughter. “You’ll be kings,” he said.
* * * *
It was early evening before Cam and Newcombe returned for Ruth, allowing D Mac, Mike, Hiroki, and Brandon to come along. The boys had looked like they were ready to ‚ght to keep them from walking away. No promise to return would have been enough.
“We might drop below the barrier for an hour or more,” Cam warned them, but D Mac shrugged and said, “We’ve done it before.”
Even without Alex, the teenagers were extra noisy as they descended, questioning Cam and Newcombe about the war and the plague. They knew so little. They were still in shock. They were good kids, mostly, but it made Cam uneasy that Alex had stayed behind with Ed and Samantha and Kevin, the sixth boy. Kevin had big eyes and a small mouth. He was the bottom dog as far as Cam could tell, and he would probably do whatever Ed and Alex told him.
What if they decided to stay? They could be forced off of their mountain at gunpoint, he supposed. Either way, it would be better to give them the vaccine. Cam wouldn’t abandon them here without it, but if Ed or the girl saw that, they would never leave. Not at ‚rst.
They won’t stay here forever, he thought. Even if a few of them delayed for months, even if it took them the entire summer to become comfortable with the idea, ranging ever-farther below the barrier for food and wood, they would see the truth. Winter would drive them lower. And if Samantha did become pregnant, especially if most of the Scouts had left, wouldn’t Ed want to ‚nd other people to help him raise his grandchild?
Cam smiled faintly as he led the boys across a ‚eld of rock and wild grass, listening to Newcombe fend off Mike.
“But if the president’s in Colorado,” the boy asked.
“There are at least two presidents now,” Newcombe said.
“But if the real one is in Colorado—”
“President Kail died in the ‚rst month of the plague and the VP stepped up, but the Speaker of the House was in Montana, which went over to the breakaways.”
“So the vice president is the real president.”
“Look, kid, it’s all fucked up, okay?”
He just needs to know he’s on the right side, Cam thought, but they were within a quarter-mile of the camp spot and he wanted to be sure Ruth didn’t run away. He cupped his mouth with his gloves and shouted, “Ruth! Ruth, we’re okay!”
No answer. He felt a thread of nervous fear, but the whitebark forest was murmuring in the breeze, a sound like distant ocean surf, and they were still pretty far away. She might not have recognized his voice.
“Ruth! Hey!”
“There,” Brandon said.
She’d gone to high ground, running to the splintered mess of a deadfall on the slope above them. She stood among the tangle of branches with a fresh red scratch across her cheek, her chest heaving for air. In her good hand was her pistol and Cam smiled again, glad for her. “It’s okay!” he said.
“Are you all right?” she called.
The waiting had been hard on her. He realized that, but his heart changed as he closed the sixty feet between them. Ruth pushed off her goggles and he saw more than relief in her expression. Last night she had managed to hide it in the dark. Now he saw genuine affection, even attachment, which made him sick because he didn’t know how to accept it. He knew that his bent, ragged hands on her would be repulsive.
Her eyes swept over the boys and also went to Newcombe, yet her smile and her tears were for Cam. “I was scared,” Ruth said without shame. Her boots crunched in the twigs and pine needles. “You were gone so long, it was hours—”
Cam stepped back from her embrace. Her ‚ngertips touched the back of his neck and then slid to his shoulder as he turned. His own arm came up brie†y to her waist. That was all. Then he tipped his head at the boys and said, “We got lucky. These guys are great.”
Ruth’s face was torn with surprise and her lower lip hung open in a dull way that looked very much unlike her.
“Cam,” she said, reaching for him again. She’d clearly made her decision. She was opening herself to him, and yet he had to say no.
“Let’s get our packs. Come on.”
“Cam, wait.”
“It’ll take us a while to hike back up again and we can have dinner there,” he said as he moved away.
The four boys had shifted back from them, glancing at each other, but D Mac stepped forward as Cam went past, allowing Cam plenty of room. “Miss,” D Mac said, ignoring the fact that Ruth was nearly twenty years older. “I’m D Mac. I mean Darren.” He blushed and tried to cover it with a grin. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much.”
“Yes.” Ruth took the boy’s hand, but Cam was aware of her gaze following after him.
* * * *