The next day was the epitome of humid summer heat, without much of the sun. Nathan awoke to a streak of mottled, straining sunlight shining in his face from the window and he squinted, bringing his arm up over his eyes for a moment. "We need to get curtains." He mumbled.

"If we add curtains a neighbor might notice and think someone moved in," came Resa's voice, always rational, from somewhere behind the sunbeam.

"I didn't see any other houses when we got here yesterday. Where are these so-called 'neighbors'?" Nathan sat up, locating Resa who was curled up on the couch, looking as if she had just woken up herself. Nathan wondered why he didn't feel her get out of bed.

She fiddled with a curl of hair, weaving it through her fingers. "They're down the river."

"The river?"

"It's about a ten minute walk from here. There's a hunter's cabin there where a man and his dogs used to stay in the summer. And then there was Miss White, and the Douglas family, and some others too, farther on."

"Oh." Nathan paused. "That sounds like a lot of people. Are you sure we're safe here?"

"I think we'll be fine as long as we stay away from the road and don't leave lights on at night." Resa stood. "Anyway, I'm going to take a shower."

She came back a minute later. "The water's not working."

Nathan stopped unpacking his bag from where he was crouched, rolling back on his heels. "The faucet and the shower head? What about the sink?"

Resa shook her head, crossing her arms. "Nothing comes out but some mud. Everything's connected to the river though, the pipes sometimes got clogged with sediment. I'm surprised the water wheel dad built still works, actually. We've got power."

"Do you have any other faucets in your house?" Nathan asked before he could stop himself.

Resa glanced quickly at the kitchen door, and then back to him. Neither of them moved for a moment.

"Well," Nathan broke the silence, his voice sounding too cheery, especially for him. "We'll just have to get water from somewhere else, won't we? Do you have a well?"

Resa nodded. "We used to, but it always dried up in the summer." She tried to appear nonchalant, but he could hear the worry in her voice. "Nathan, what are we going to do?"

He got to his feet, dusting off his hands in a dramatic motion even though they weren't dirty. "I'll just have to go down to the river with a few buckets."

"But people could see-"

Nathan sighed. "Do you have a better idea?"

And that was how he found himself, bucket in hand, marching through the woods behind Resa's house. There was a wide trail running in the middle, but he stuck to the shade, wary and listening. The only sounds he heard were birds chirping and his own footsteps, padding through the soft moss and dark, moist dirt. Eventually he could hear the static roar of water not far away, and it was only a few minutes before he reached the edge of the stream. He paused and looked around under the arching branches of an ash tree, one of the only types that could still thrive in polluted air. Nothing stirred. He was completely alone with his thoughts again, and that terrified him more than anything.

The Repo thing had stayed quiet since yesterday in the kitchen, and he almost expected it to start another episode right there and now, but it hardly stirred. Nathan supposed it really didn't see a point of making the effort when there was nothing to do.

He crouched at the water's edge, scooping his bucket into the water. It came up half filled with debris. Nathan sighed. The river was going too fast; he would need to find a calmer spot.

He hiked down the bank, remembering Resa's warning about the nearest house being upriver. She had wanted to come, but of course if anyone saw her they would recognize her instantly. It would draw infinitely less attention if he went alone.

A few hundred yards downriver, Nathan came across a small pool where the river branched off. He crouched, slowly dipping the bucket into the pool and waiting for it to fill up. He was about to leave when something caught his eye.

A red burlap sack bobbed in the riverbed, the rope that tied it shut catching on a branch. The sack was bulging.

Nathan lifted the full bucket and set it on land before approaching the sack. It was within his grasp if he stretched. Nathan recognized the label on the sack as something he'd seen in a marketplace before, and hoped it contained food. Potatoes, maybe, or rice. Although he doubted river-water soaked rice would be delicious, at least it was food.

He got on his hands and knees and stretched an arm out for the sack, feeling a dull pain from the scarred bullet wound in his chest. He was right, the burlap sack was within his grasp and he yanked it off the branch with some difficulty, pulling it to shore. It was heavy.

Nathan opened it, expecting to see pounds of soaked and sticky rice, but instead discovered a mass of damp, matted fur. What was this? Some kind of dead animal? His eyebrows knit together in confusion. Nathan carefully shook the contents onto the shore, discovering that he was half right. An entire litter of puppies tumbled out, most of them limp. Nathan touched their soft fur, feeling a pang of regret. These had no doubt been a product of one of the dogs the hunter owned upstream, and he either didn't have the time or couldn't afford to raise them.

Nathan sighed; he was about to pick up his bucket and leave, when one of the bundles of fur squirmed. He stopped, almost hopeful.

The squirm came again, and a little brown head raised from the pile, blinking mournful black eyes at him.

"Well, aren't you lucky?" Nathan chuckled, picking the small animal up. It looked like a cross between a hound and some kind of mutt, with thick, floppy brown ears, paws too big for its body, and a tail that wouldn't stop wiggling. It was trembling, cold and wet from the river, but it still tried to lick his face. Nathan laughed, taking off his jacket and wrapping the cold little body snugly in it. "I know someone who will just love you," he said, bundle in one arm and the bucket in the other. The dog yipped as if it understood, and buried its face in his jacket. Nathan started back again, grinning the whole way.

Resa heard the door close and pulled the beaker of beans off of the lab hot plate. She'd happened to have grabbed both from her office, and they'd had come in handy. She was starving, and she was sure Nate hadn't had a full-course dinner either.

"Breakfast, Nathan!" she called, voice echoing off of the empty walls as she put the hot plate up on the mantle so they wouldn't step on it. The air away from it was uncomfortably cool, so she drew the blanket around her. She heard Nathan's footsteps. "We really need wood for a fire," she complained to him as she strode towards the couch.

Suddenly something was underfoot and she yelped as she tripped over it. Fur tickled her feet. A badger? A raccoon? She was on the ground, and so was the food. She was more focused on the ferocious beast that had attacked her, though, and scrambled back onto the couch, trying to find it. "Nathan!" she shouted in a panic.

Then it sprung up at her and she screamed; it was going for her face. "Nathan!"

Then it was gone and she climbed onto the back of the couch, pressing herself against the wall. What had that man let in their hideout? She peeked over the edge; whatever it was, it was licking the beans off of the floor. It was littler than she thought, and fluffy and furry and brown. Resa didn't relinquish her wall position.

"Is that..." she asked shakily as Nathan entered. It barked shrilly, and she jumped. The couch slipped a bit away from her feet. "Is that a dog?"

"Just a puppy," Nathan smiled, though the look faltered as he caught her terrified expression. "You're not scared of her, are you?"

"No!" Resa said, too quickly. "It just startled me is ... where did you find a dog? Why'd you bring it back here?"

"Her," Nathan corrected, leaning down to pick up the wriggling thing. "I thought you'd like her. I found her in the river, and I figured we could take care of her before it did. Is ... is that okay?"

"I don't ... I ... I've never been near a dog," she said slowly, watching the animal squirm in Nate's arms. "Or anything really. Except for Bea's kittens."

"You've never pet a dog?"

"No, I guess it's kind of odd. But Lauren was allergic ... and then we were in the city, and Bea was sick..." She couldn't take her eyes off of it. The thing ... didn't look so bad, she finally conceded. It was actually kind of cute. "Is it ... is she safe?"

"Of course," laughed Nathan. "Get down from there, don't be silly. It's just a puppy. Your puppy."

"My...?"

Resa slowly inched down from the defensive and stood in front of Nathan. He held out the dog for her, but she just patted it on the head. It licked her fingers immediately, and she yanked her hand back. The rough pink tongue felt weird.

"It spilled the food," she said automatically. Nathan smiled.

"Good, she's probably starving. We can make more."

"I ... I guess." Resa tried to pet the animal again. Its downy fur was really soft, and a little damp, and the wet pink nose that nudged her palm was cold. The smell when it yawned was odd and sweet, but pleasant. So that was puppy breath. She still didn't know what to think of the little thing. Her heart was still thumping from the episode.

"Hold her," Nathan said brightly.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, that's okay," Resa tried to avoid the dog, but Nate grabbed her hands and put them around the soft pink belly. It leapt up on her chest and began licking her face, and she had to keep from shouting. There was the smell again. Resa pulled it away from her face and held it awkwardly, but it rammed her and snuggled into her nightie. She felt the warm fur on her stomach, through the gown. Quickly she looked up at Nathan, unsurely. He was grinning. She was still stunned. She didn't know what to think.

"She likes you," he beamed.

"I ... she's okay," Resa said, but already her heart was beginning to warm towards the animal. It really was sweet, and its little tongue curled when it yawned again.

"I have a name for her already," Nathan said, sounding excited.

"Oh yeah?"

"Shilo."

Resa's stomach suddenly did a guilty flip, and she stepped back. "I don't think that's a good idea, Nate," she said slowly, running her fingers through the slightly matted fur. He could teach Guilt Trips 101, she thought. Nate looked a little surprised at her refusal. "I just ... it's a psychology thing. If you name something after someone you lost, the connotations will always be bad. That person or ... dog ... won't ever get the same kind of love, just because they remind you of your grief."

Way to go, Resa, she thought proudly, as he seemed to buy it. She'd pulled all that out of her ass, of course, but it sounded good.

"Well, I guess Marni and Beatrice are out of the picture, too, then," Nathan said with a small smile and a shrug. "They were my next suggestions."

"See? You're a little sadder just saying the name," Resa pointed out. "We'll just have to think of something."

She lifted the little dog up in front of her. "You'll just have to be Puppy for now, won't you?" she asked, trying not to use a babying voice just because the thing was kind of cute. Then it nuzzled her face, filling all her sensations with soft fur and puppy breath and warmth and happiness. Resa grinned and laughed, before she caught Nathan's expression of self-pride, and she cleared her throat quickly. She pulled the dog back down into her arms, where it began playing with one of the tassels on her blanket.

"You like her," he accused, sounding like a happy child. Suddenly Resa was unable to keep from smiling.

"I love her," she said softly as she looked at the little bundle of fur in her arms, unable to pretend otherwise. "Thank you, Nate."

"You're more than welcome," Nathan smiled, watching the puppy wriggle its damp and furry body in her grasp. Its pink tongue shot out to lick Resa's fingers and she laughed. "How are we going to feed her though?"

Nathan glanced down at the beans spilled across the floor. "Well, I know what her first meal can be. And maybe we can teach her to be a hunting dog or something. She's got the genes for it."

Their new pet could smell the beans, and she began struggling to be let down. Resa set her on the floor and she made a beeline for the breakfast. Resa picked up the empty beaker, miraculously still in one piece, turning it over in her hands. "I guess. There were a lot of rabbits around here when we were kids."

The puppy lapped noisily at its breakfast, wolfing down the lumpy brown puddle with hungry intensity.

"And you could start a garden too." Nathan pointed out. "The air here isn't too bad. You could probably grow a few things you couldn't before."

Resa smiled. "What are you getting at, Nathan?"

Now it was his turn to look sheepish. "I don't know. When we moved in I thought this would be temporary until everything died down. But... maybe living here for a while wouldn't be so bad after all."

"Nate," Resa's smile grew even wider. "That'd be perfect. But before we stink forever, we should fix the problem with the water."

xxx

Nathan peered down into the well, being careful not to put too much weight on the old brick wall surrounding it. The well could have been twenty or thirty feet deep, and the last ten feet were shrouded in darkness. He pulled out a match from his pocket to strike it and light a nearby stick on fire.

A high-pitched whine came from near Nathan's feet. "What?" He looked down at the dog, who watched him with wide eyes. "Shouldn't you be inside with Resa?"

The dog wagged its tail.

"Well, fine then. I could use some company." Nathan glanced toward the house, where the ex-surGEN was inside finding something else for their breakfast. He wanted to remind her not to go in the kitchen, but she probably already knew. Resa hadn't gone in it yet. Maybe she trusted him enough to stay away, even if it was an inconvenience for both of them.

Nathan turned back to his task as the fire spit and crackled at him, eating its way up the stick. He dropped his makeshift torch into the well, watching the flames plummet to the bottom. It cast a glow against the damp stone walls all the way down and hit the ground in a few seconds, illuminating the bottom in flickering light.

Nathan squinted, examining the well. The bottom was completely dry and covered in leaves, twigs, and various other bits of nature that had fallen in over the years. No dead animals, thankfully. He had seen enough dead things in this house already.

"Well, I'm going to have to find some way to clean it out," he said aloud, drumming his fingers on the ledge. "Or it'll be brown when the water level rises."

The dog yipped in answer from where it was chasing its own tail.

As he was staring into the well, the fire on the stick caught a leaf. Soon all the debris at the bottom of the well had been ignited and was burning noisily, being eaten alive by the flames.

"Well ... that was easy." Nathan dusted off his hands, about to go back in the house and help with breakfast. Suddenly, a horrible realization struck him.

"Shit!" he shouted, "The smoke!"

Clouds of it were billowing from the fire out of the well and upwards, a clear signal for anyone nearby. He stumbled back in a panic, tripping over the dog. She let out a yip and scurried out of the way as he landed on his back.

"Nathan, what's wrong?" Resa poked her head out from the back door.

"The smoke!" he cried, scrambling to his feet. "How could I have been so stupid? Someone will see!"

Resa's eyes grew wide as the realization dawned on her. "Quick! Grab the bucket!"

Nathan did as she said, dashing around the side of the house to retrieve the bucket of water he had brought back from the stream. He raced back, not caring that half the water sloshed over the edge and spilled everywhere. When he got there, Resa was leaning over the edge of the well, waving her arms, pointlessly trying to diffuse the pillar of heavy gray smoke. "Look out!" Nathan cried, before wildly flinging the water, bucket and all, into the well. It burst at the bottom, smothering the flames with a hiss.

For a minute, they stood there looking at each other and panting. Resa's hair had come loose from the bun she had tried to capture it in, and now it sprung out in reckless coils. She had yanked off her apron too and tossed it into the well in an attempt to smother the flames. Nathan glanced apologetically at her, trying to suppress a laugh. "Sorry." He mumbled. "I should really think these things through next time."

Resa smiled at Nathan, even though she still worried a bit about the smoke. It wasn't a big deal though. There wasn't anyone around for a while, and it didn't look like a lot. Most of it was dissipating when it hit the trees overhead anyway, and the rest only added to the general smog.

"It'll be fine," she assured him in a pant, rubbing at her bare arms to try and dissuade some of the sweat. The chilly air was already beginning to nip. "At least we got it before it went too bad."

Nathan hummed in agreement. "We should get inside."

"Yeah, we-"

Resa was suddenly looking around at ground level. "Where's Puppy?" she asked, panic beginning to seep in. "Oh, God, she doesn't know not to run off, what if she's off getting mauled, or drinking bad water, or-"

"Resa, relax, I'm sure she's fine," said Nathan, putting a hand on her damp shoulder. "She was just hanging around me, she knows not to go off."

"Puppy!" Resa was already calling frantically. "Puppy, come here, where are you?"

"Resa..."

"Oh, there she is," she finally spotted the ball of fur, wagging its tail at the edge of the bit of clearing. Resa started making ridiculous cooing and calling noises that she didn't even know she was capable of, until the dog finally began to move towards her. It was favoring its back paws though, and one was curled beneath against her chest. Resa stopped dead.

"Nathan, there's something wrong with her leg," she said slowly. Her doctoring instincts were beginning to take over and she rushed towards Puppy, gathering her in her arms. It whimpered a bit and licked her hand.

"Oh, it's fine," said Nathan, quickly examining it. "Just a bruise, that's all."

"No!" Resa said, voice much higher-pitched than normal. "She's hurt! Nathan, we let her get hurt! I'm a horrible mother!"

Suddenly she was sobbing, holding Puppy to her face. There was a thumping noise as the little tail wagged against her stomach, but she couldn't hear it. If she'd looked back at Nathan she would've caught him rolling his eyes. "What'll we do?" she squeaked. "Did you bring med supplies? I've never operated on a dog before, but..."

"Resa!" Nathan tried again. "Relax! She's fine!"

"Look at her leg!" Resa cried hysterically. Puppy yapped and licked her face. "She's gravely injured! I need to fix her, I need to..."

There were bandages in the cupboard! There were always bandages in the cupboard, and antibiotics and splints. Above the sink. She knew there were.

"Mommy! I hurt my arm!" cried Bea, running towards the house. "Resa pushed me!"

"I did not, you big baby!"

"Yes, she did! She pushed me 'cos I ate her Barbie feet!"

"You ate my Barbie feet?" Resa cried, sprinting after the little girl in a bright red dress. "Lauren! She ate my Barbie feet! How can I operate on Barbies with no feet?"

Lauren laughed. She had a big smile. "She didn't eat your Barbie feet, silly. She doesn't know what she's saying half the time."

Bea had a huge pout on her face, holding out her arm solemnly for Lauren to inspect. Resa watched grumpily.

"I didn't push her," she grumbled. "Twelve-year-olds don't push babies."

"I'm not a baby!" Bea protested.

"Hey!" Lauren shouted, and Resa looked up at her, pushing back her chaos of hair. "Bea is pretty hurt – she might need a doctor. How would you like to operate on her, instead of just plastic? You're the best medic I know."

Resa's face lit up. "Better than you?" she asked expectantly, breathlessly.

"Of course!"

A real patient! "Okay!" Resa shouted, already running to get the first-aid kit from the kitchen.

"I wanna help!" Bea shouted, and Resa looked back to see her stumbling behind.

"You can't operate on yourself, Bea!"

"Yeah, I can!"

Resa shoved the dog into Nathan's hold. "I need to get the first-aid kit!" she said, still panicking.

"Reese, just get the bandages from-"

But she was already running for the house, for the kitchen. The cupboard above the stove. For a moment she wondered if she could reach now, and then almost laughed at herself. She'd grown a few inches since she was fifteen.

"Resa! Resa, wait!" Nathan cried, but she was already in the house. What if she forgot? What if she ran into the kitchen? That last thought was enough to make him break into a sprint. He had to stop her before she saw-

But it was too late.