"We've got to get her back!" Irving exclaims, before promptly collapsing back into the comfort of his bed.

"Whoever these people are, they can't have gone far," one of the soldiers points out. "We're in the edge of the Barrens, and the only real route through here is the Parkway, which we guard anyway. The mayor will be completely safe, don't worry."

I hear the soft thud of the tent flap opening, followed by a succession of steady, hurried bootsteps. I turn, to see a scraggly, rather tanned man walking in, an air of nobility despite his Army fatigues. It takes no effort to pick him out as an army officer.

"I'm told," he grunts, "that the mayor of this dump has been abducted."

"Er," said the soldier who just spoke. "Yes, sir, she did. She was, I mean."

He next looks judgingly in our direction. I see his eyes shimmer – in recognition? "And why the fuck are a teenage girl and a mutie standing in my camp?"

"What are you -" I start to say, starting to raise my fist, before Kenji puts his hand on my shoulder, stopping me.

"They were the ones who found him and Corporal Brennan, sir," the soldier replies.

"Really," he says, disbelievingly. "You two," he points at us, "come with me."

We are led to the outskirts of the little military camp, where two other officer-looking people are standing, both looking at us nervously.

"Right," the general turns around and says with the tone of a displeased parent. "As for you two, I know who you are."

"What are you talking about?" I respond.

His eyes flare up, and I take a step backwards. "You two are the little shits who humiliated my nephew. Yes, don't think the news hasn't reached out this far." It takes my mind a second to realise what he's talking about. "It's really quite lucky for me that I happened to be passing through here. I really should just have you arrested and sent back to the capital for trial. That's what Randall wants."

He pauses, as I feel my heart pounding. I can see in his brown eyes how much he loathes our very existence.

"Get the hell out of here. Now. If I ever see you in this town again, I will have you shot on sight."

"But it's nighttime," Kenji objects.

"I don't care, you mutie piece of shit. Do you want me to have you shot instead? You should have been dead ten years ago, lying in a pile. That's all your kind deserves for what you did to us."

For that, I want to take the energy gun from my belt and slam it into his throat until it burns clean through. I don't give a shit who he is, if he's a general, or if he's the fucking President.

But I stare back into his eyes - and I can't. I just can't. Instead, "Ah," I say, "alright…we won't be any trouble." Without a second thought, I turn and flee.

"I'm sorry," I tell Kenji, after we've reached a safe distance, his shoulders slumped in – I'm not quite sure what. "I let him do that to you. I shouldn't have."

"No, Zoe, it's fine," he says. "Besides, it's far from the first time I've been talked to like that. You know this." He smiles a little, almost sadly. "Doing anything would have just ended with both of us dead, anyway."

I nod.

"What do you suppose we do now then?" I ask, about ten seconds later, as we pass the sign marking the ramp guiding pre-War drivers to the northbound Garden State Parkway.

"You already know the answer," Kenji chuckles, seemingly unfazed by it at all.

"Go to Forked River?" I wink at him, trying to hide the fact that my stomach is still lurching. "Yeah."

As soon as I step back on the Parkway, my worries fade. Of course the Parkway wouldn't be dark - there's an electric light strung up every few hundred feet, helping travelers along. A pack of brahmins is plying its way in our direction, presumably returning uproad from one of the Republic towns. I feel a tinge of pity for the poor sod who gets stuck cleaning up their shit.I look up, at this summer night's array of constellations, twinkling through tired air as if taunting this insignificant world without a care in the universe. Wouldn't it be nice to get lost up there, someday?

And then my sight falls back down to Earth, and see the faces of the two Army guards about a hundred feet staring back at us rather oddly, and my find once again sees the sheer hatred in that general's eyes, and I can feel the weight of my organs again.

"I've heard of that fuck," Kenji says, distracting me.

"Er...oh?" I turn to look at him.

"Yeah, Michael Wayne. Rumour has it he wanted the President's job eight years ago, but their father gave it to his younger brother Sullivan instead. Sometime after that, Sullivan reassigned Michael out here. There was a bit of a scandal surrounding it, everyone was talking about it for a while. You were too young to remember back then."

"Ah, that explains it," I nod. "And – his nephew…?" I think about this for half a second, letting my mind piece things together. "Does Randall dislike his father? He's come to Michael for help?"

"That would make sense." Kenji pauses, looking somewhat tense. "Zoe, even though he was, as we used to say, reassigned to Antarctica, he's still responsible for the Army in the entire northern region. I do suspect that won't be the last we see of him."

"What's an Antarctica?" I ask, squinting. "Oh, yeah, that's that place on the bottom of the globe, right?" I try to recall the sparse stories I've read of the lands down there. "Nothing but ice and penguins? And the mountains of madness, right?"

"It's…" It's Kenji's turn to sigh and shake his head. "Ah, never you mind."

I fiddle some more with the Pip-Boy. I manage to reach the Radio tab. I hit the dial by accident, and I immediately wince, as from somewhere, I'm blasted with someone singing loudly in – I think it's French?

"Oh, Edith," Kenji sighs happily, and to my great disbelief, starts singing along. "Je vois la vie en rose…"

I've heard French maybe twice in my life, but I can be damn sure this is what it sounds like – lyrical, truly, captivatingly beautiful, like something from another world. I knew what they called that world, too: FRANCE. Just another one of a hundred bolded black words printed across pre-War maps, completely meaningless to us.

I look back at the screen. Radio Neuf-Trois. Also French. Where on Earth could people in post-apocalyptic New Jersey possibly have learned French from?

And – "Wait," I ask Kenji. "You've heard this before?"

"Yeah," Kenji grins, "but I don't know where."

It is very clear that this is all I'm getting out of him tonight. He doesn't grab at his head this time. The music is pretty soothing, I will not lie, even if I don't know a damned word of this language.

I humour him, letting the music play on through the starry night.

The Forked River exit is blocked off by a squad of four Republic Army soldiers, some chatting amongst each other.

"Hold up, travellers," one of them says, "there's a Republic Army operation currently ongoing, and we're checking all entrants into the town."

I breathe in. I'll need a little luck for this one. "Is this to do with the mayor of Barnegat?" I ask.

He squints at me, looking suspiciously. He takes a glance at the group behind him, then back at Kenji.

"We came from Barnegat just now," I explain, deciding it best to leave out whom, precisely, we actually are. I can't rule out the possibility that the general has informed them about us. "In fact, I think we can help you people out."

A woman puts a hand on his shoulder and whispers something in his ear, and his muscles visibly relax.

"Er…alright," he shrugs. "Alright, head on in."

I exhale. That was, surprisingly, much, much easier than I had been expecting.

Wait.

Was it just me, or had that woman's skin been just the faintest bit orange?