It would be easy to avoid each other. With two hundred soldiers on the road it should not be a problem. They don't have to annoy each other, they do not have to remain within thirty feet of each other, and yet they do.

The two of them ride a set of mares at the front of their little army. Beneath them are the remnants of a highway that has long since disappeared into nature's grasp. The steady drum of boots and hooves on the ground doesn't change throughout the day. Once it does, their president knows it is time to rest, there is after all no hurry.

They are only creating a head start on Miles so they can plan the attack. Monroe's experience has taught Charlie that the prep work could take the full month it will take for her uncle to arrive with six hundred extra soldiers.

Riding all day long, shoulder to shoulder with nothing to do but talk is taking its toll on their relationship. Some of the hours they're okay, talking of Charlie's childhood and the generals' time in the marines. A memorable occasion for the young woman was when her companion told her of his sisters. How the youngest had a crush on his best friend from the moment she could talk. That the middle sibling would have loved this light-less world, frustrated by the way technology was destroying their society quicker than it was repairing it.

Other days, Bass teaches. He tells her of his plans for the war with Georgia. Charlie can hear that he has been considering every angle since his Republic first rose to power. Every time he does, she reaches for the amulet strapped to her ankle, where it is out of the way and concealed by her pants. Bass would notice if she suddenly stopped wearing her skin-tight shirts, he likes staring too much. Her Militia jacket sits unworn in her saddlebag.

The worst days are hidden from the soldiers. The horses seem to feel the change in mood that occasionally comes over their riders and distance themselves from the group by increasing pace.

They fight often. Charlie spends no mercy when she tells Bass of the soldiers that plunder the villages from extra taxes and beautiful women. How the town a few miles from theirs had been burned to the ground when they fought back. She scolds him for his lack of knowledge when he claims ignorance.

Now that she knows him better, Charlie can tell that it got worse the year Miles left. Bass lost his grip on his soldiers, paranoia winning from any sanity he had left. Losing his family for the third time had left him desensitized to the come-and-goings in his own empire. He had nothing left to fight for after all. Bass had built the Republic to protect the only family he had left, reduced to zero, now back to four.

"That's why the number of rebels are growing, you know." Charlie says the day before they reach the main camp at the sea. "They fight to survive. They fight because they need the supplies your soldiers steal to live. Rebels like Nora fight for the United States, but most used to like what the Republic stood for."

She is a part of Monroe's empire now, and she is in a position to change it. Miles sometimes talked of his dreams for the future. Jeremy gratefully recounted how her uncle saved him by the campfire just yesterday. So much power can be turned back to good. She had unearthed the light in Miles, they should be able to do the same to the land that is half Matheson, half Matheson-adjacent.

The good thing about their proximity is that they have to listen to the other. Presenting an united front is important, so neither of them can walk away like they did back in Philly. Miles isn't present to complain to either, so they learn to solve their own problems.

Charlie's bruises fade and Monroe's stab wound heals cleanly. Jeremy, whose rank forces him to end the line of soldiers and keep them moving, smiles at the end of each day when his superiors are unharmed.

"The border isn't actually marked by anything. Conquering land is not just moving forward and staking claim. We can only move the border by conquering the towns on its line. We will encounter farm towns first; they are usually unarmed and unguarded, so the border will move south with us quickly. Once we have their supplies and pick up more fighters we move to the bigger cities. Once we conquer one, the land around it will be ours to mark on the map, and we'll have a homebase in enemy territory. It should be easy. We start with Charlotte, from there on we can march straight to Atlanta and the worst part will be over."

They are near what used to be Norfolk, the camp in sight, a posse moving out to greet their president. It is not the first time that Bass speaks of the upcoming years of war, but today Charlie cannot stop thinking about the Texans and the Plain Nation, who will be moving in on their less guarded borders while they fight a war with the Federation for months. Two choppers in the air and that same war will not last the week. They can spare thousands with the same result.

Just weeks ago she had been willing to offer up her own life to keep Bass' hands of the only power source in the world. Now she is considering entrusting him with it.

"President Monroe, we are ready for you," a captain greets Bass, more or less ignoring the rest of the group. He takes another look and recognizes that Charlie is not in uniform but posturing next to Monroe like she is his equal. Bass doesn't miss the look.

"She's family. Treat her with the same amount of respect as me." Charlie sees the posse draw the wrong conclusion, but shuts up when Bass subtly kicks her shin.

Outside of Philly her last name is still synonymous with traitor. Charlotte Matheson is known as a rebel in the northern part of the Republic, and there is no way to tell how quickly news of the newly pardoned general and his niece has travelled. Monroe did send a soldier ahead with the necessary announcements, but he is being cautious.

The Militia quickly take up Monroe's attention, making it easy for her to slip away. Considering what she is about to do, there can't be much damage that Bass can cause in her absence.

Using a phone is considerably easy, seeing as she can't remember ever holding one before. "You okay?" Miles asks all the way from Philly. The thought that they can actually talk like this is strange, but it is a relieve to hear his voice.

The nagging feeling that she has been fighting all the way from the beginning of their journey has increased at their arrival. Something about this camp, the size, the noise, sets her teeth on edge. The sense of foreboding has reached an all-time high, and only now can she separate it from the distrust she still feels around Bass.

Miles had warned her of an ambush, and she is suddenly sure that the camp will be attacked any minute. They have been waiting for Monroe. There is no whispered conversation to overhear, no Georgian scout she spots in the bushes, no sign of an impending attack at all. Yet she can't shake her instincts.

"We just arrived. Miles, something is wrong." The conviction in her tone is enough to drag him over the edge of doubt. Ever since his negotiations with Kelly he has been weary of the treaty and the blatant opportunity. Miles is almost sure that he was meant to overhear the conversation about the fallout between Georgia and her allies. It had felt too convenient, but he had grabbed at the chance because it was the only way to survive without flipping the lights back on and killing his nephew.

"How long do you think you guys have?" he is quick to ask. Charlie is glad he doesn't question her judgment. She looks back at the general area where Bass is supposed to be and hurriedly replies.

"Nightfall makes most sense. They barely would have any cover now, they won't take that chance." The attackers will wait until most soldiers are asleep, giving them a precious few seconds that can make all the difference. "But I can't guarantee it."

She hears a frustrated groan on the other end. Miles swears and reverts back to silent contemplation. Charlie is about to ask if he's still on the line when the sound of Miles shouting orders penetrates her ears. "I can get the choppers to you in four hours." Around two hours late, Charlie guesses as she takes a look at the darkening sky. Half the Militia is at this camp. They will lose them all.

"I guess I'm going to have to stall." She hangs up before her uncle can protest.

"That has to be the most interesting conversation I have heard in a while," Bass says from his hiding place. "Exactly what are you stalling for, Charlotte? Miles can hardly be here by night fall." They've just travelled four hundred miles or so. Charlie won't have a chance stalling Georgia that long. She is right though. His scouts have reported Georgian and Texan troops subtly trying to surround them. He should have known it was too good to be true.

The girl looks away to the gathering of tents where he is supposed to be. Where he would be if he hadn't seen her sneak off as soon as he dismounted his horse. "Unless," he pauses, gauging her reaction, "He can be."

He steps closer to her, gaze travelling down her body. His hands rest on her hips, before gliding down. He locks eyes with her, blue to blue, as his fingers trace over cargo pants, searching for the amulet he knows she has. A palm glides across her inner thigh, and she bites back a moan at the sensation.

Bass' other hand is already patting down the rest of her leg, finding the object of his search bound to her ankle. He unties the string and holds it up. Charlie is still trembling from his barely-there touch, but he is too focused on the lit-up phone screen to notice the effect he has on her. "What is Miles coming with?" he asks distracted, thumb pushing buttons in a familiar pattern, just in wonder. He has been hammering on the power because he needs it to win the war, to keep his Republic standing, but these little things might be just as important. People would kill to play the Snake game on this phone just one more time. He won't. With his history and that of the Mathesons, they would all be dead. In this world they are the strongest, here he can protect them. They don't stand a chance against technology.

Charlie takes a deep breath and recovers her control. "Choppers, two of them, but the attack will be over before they arrive."

"So you're going to stall," Bass repeats after her now that he understands. This far out the Georgian army won't have any anti-aircraft weapons close-by. If they can buy time, they can win without any losses at all.