Lynn packed her backpack and stomped out the remains of the fire. With the apple and cheese in one hand and her tomahawk in the other, she left her shelter behind in a controlled rush.
Skeever seemed surprised by her hurry; he lagged behind for a few seconds, then shot ahead, keeping her in view as he began the hunt for breakfast in the near dark.
Walking was usually meditative. The repetitive motion as well as the constant vigilance left little room for stray thoughts—which was exactly what Lynn had been hoping for. Yet the meditative mood wouldn’t come. She’d gotten close to it after she’d reached the highway, but the feeling abandoned her before she could fully settle into it.
She glanced at Skeever. If anyone had told her a fortnight ago that she’d let a group capture her just because she would otherwise lose possession of a dog, she’d have laughed in their faces. Yet she had done exactly that. Had adopting him been the catalyst to start caring about people again?
Skeever was loyal, quietly supportive, and a good hunter. He’d made himself indispensable very quickly, but beyond that fact, it was also really nice to have someone to spend time with.
And she had to admit—stupidity and inexperience aside—Dani had made a good travel companion. She was talkative without being a blabbermouth, smart, and willing to learn. If she stopped attacking wolves and grew some calluses on her feet, Dani could make a good Wilder one day.
Lynn glanced behind her and found nothing but cracked asphalt, wrecked cars, and vegetation wherever it could find a foothold. The world was, as always, desolate. Even with the birds singing in the trees, a group of monkeys upsetting branches in the distance, and small critters scurrying between the piles of rubble, it felt empty. Some days, that thought calmed Lynn. After all, empty was good; it meant there weren’t any predators. Today, the world around her felt hollow, and Lynn realized the sentiment extended to her internal world as well.
I’m lonely. The realization struck with absolute certainty. Even with Skeever, even after months of being alone and never minding it at all, today I feel lonely. She swallowed. “Skeever, come here.”
Skeever trotted back leisurely and bumped her leg.
Lynn crouched down in the middle of the road and wrapped her arms around him. She buried her face into his fur. He smelled of earth, smoke, and dew-dampened dog. It was familiar and soothing, but it didn’t take away the hollow feeling inside of her.
Skeever squirmed and tried to bite her ponytail.
Lynn held on. “Did I make a mistake?” Skeever’s fur absorbed the whispered words. Not just for Dani, but for myself? A lump had formed in her throat, and she swallowed it down. She didn’t show emotion—didn’t feel things.
But she did.
Right now, she was feeling regret, loneliness, and a throbbing headache. The latter wasn’t technically an emotion, but it bloomed so suddenly that it rapidly overtook everything else. She stroked Skeever’s flank and inhaled once more before pulling back.
Instantly, Skeever assaulted her face with his tongue and dead-rat breath.
Grinning, she ducked and gripped both sides of his head. “Shhhh… shhhh… what are you so happy about, huh?” She rubbed his cheeks. “Huh?”
Skeever barked, either out of excitement or to free himself… or maybe both.
Lynn glanced around reflexively, but the road was still abandoned. “Come on, Skeeve. Gotta go. I need to think.” She stood again.
Skeever jumped and then rushed forward.
Lynn watched him go as she walked. At least you got over a bad night’s sleep fast. She shook herself. Now more than ever, she needed to find her meditative mood because she had to think about things—important things. The most important of all being which way she was going to go at the intersection with the 95: away from Dani or toward her. It was her last chance to catch up, but if she went after Dani, she’d also be agreeing to get Richard’s body.
With an early start and a fairly intact road, Lynn made it to the 95 well before midday. Despite her resolution to make a decision, she’d spent most of her time doing the exact opposite. The meditative mood had hit her, and she’d allowed herself to drift pleasantly. She’d marched away the morning by meticulously scouring her surroundings, playing fetch with Skeever, and eating while on the go.
Now that she got closer to the intersection, large signs started to appear overhead—or under feet when the signs had come crashing down. They were, as always, a confusing mess. The 95, according to the signs, ran north to south, but Lynn had the map fresh in mind and knew it to run east to west instead. Looking at the larger picture, the 95 did come down from the north and might eventually turn south again once it looped around New York City. So, north for Dani, south for a clean escape.
The road split, and north became left, and south became right. She had a choice to make, and she wasn’t ready. Not by a long shot.
Skeever dallied around her legs.
Lynn had come to one decision in between putting off making any: if she was going after Dani, she would convince her to forget about the Homesteaders that had sent her out to die and come with her. Now that she’d reached the split, Lynn had to do some math to see if it was even possible to catch up before Dani reached Richard’s body. Once that happened, it was too late.
Midday. Lynn looked up at the sun. Dani had to be one day of walking dawn-to-dusk away, at a minimum, depending on how accurate Lynn’s memory of the map and her prediction of Dani’s speed were. If she was wrong about the map or Dani was a lot slower, Lynn might end up ahead of her, but even if that happened, she would wait at the car dealership and make a final plea. The thought filled the hollow in her belly with a flutter of excitement.
She had to do it. Even if she couldn’t quite explain to herself why, she trusted her gut—and her gut told her that she didn’t want to be alone anymore. That she wanted another person to keep watch part of the night so she wouldn’t be continually exhausted anymore. That she wanted the protection of another pair of eyes to scout the area while she hunted or gathered a meal. She wanted more out of life than survival—and she’d only felt that when she’d been young enough to let people in.
Lynn renewed the hold on her tomahawk and looked into the gloom of an overcast but warm day. The first step onto the left fork of the road was hard, but then her steps became lighter and easier. The road pulled at her. It seemed to urge her on and whisper find Dani, find Dani, find Dani.
She increased her pace.
Skeever darted ahead, down the slope, and onto the 95 heading north.
Easier said than done, road. But Lynn was certain it could be done. She could find Dani, talk her out of this plan now that Dani had experienced life in the Wilds alone, and get her to come with Lynn. It would all work out.
The convergence of roads spread out before her like a petrified spider web, unbending and unyielding in the stiff afternoon breeze. It was late—later than Lynn would have liked. The sun had started to set already, but she’d had her mind set on reaching this point before the day was done. She searched the lanes and ramps leading up to them for a lone figure but didn’t spot Dani. That would have been too easy. Dani must have come past here already. A badly bombed road had slowed Lynn down, and even if the 278 had befallen the same fate, Dani must have reached this point before her.
The question was: how long before her?
Skeever followed her closely as she began to maneuver the web to get to the 95 leading north. He looked as exhausted as Lynn felt; his tongue lolled, and he hadn’t shot out ahead of her in a long time. His limp—courtesy of the wolf attack—had returned.