Ellie walks into the Tipsy Bison about eight. It's Thursday but it's still pretty busy, and she blends into the crowd easily, which she likes. She looks around. She doesn't feel like chatting around with everyone in town, but–

She spies Abby at a table in the back by herself. Perfect.

She strolls up and sets herself down. Abby looks up but doesn't protest. She's looking a little… broody, almost, loosely cupping her iced whisky with both hands.

"Something wrong?" asks Ellie.

Abby frowns, and shakes her head.

"Why the long face then? I'm here now."

Abby snorts. "No long face, Ellie. I just never know what I'm in for when you ask me to come out for a talk."

"I didn't say it was a serious talk."

"You asked me to leave Lev behind."

"Well… yeah, I… It's just a big day for me, and I wanted to tell you about it."

Abby narrows her eyes, interested. She looks to the side and cocks her head. "You didn't–"

"I didn't sign up for clerical study, no."

"You get deputized?"

"No, and I'm not nearly as jealous as you seem to think."

"Just checking," says Abby. She pretends to absentmindedly polish her badge with her shirt.

"How's that been?" Ellie asks, not wanting to sound too curious.

Abby cocks an eyebrow, thinking about it while she takes a sip. "Not really what I thought it'd be, to be honest. I mean…" She sighs.

"You're trying not to talk shit."

"I'm trying not to talk shit," admits Abby, but she looks over Ellie's shoulder as if to see who's listening. "Jackson's great, right? Peaceful. Only quieter place I've lived is with the Fireflies, and that's cause everyone has a stick up their ass."

Ellie laughs.

"Don't," says Abby, anticipating the jab. "Anyway, all that means being a peacekeeper around here is more like 'squabble manager.'"

"Hunt down any stolen chickens?"

Abby snorts. "No, but Jamie did last week. It's mostly just…" She purses her lips in frustration. "Just fucking people arguing over dumb shit. And me telling them the common sense thing to do."

"Property rights stuff?"

"All property rights stuff. 'That fence is too close.' 'That's my wheelbarrow.' Come on, man."

"That's not so bad, is it?"

Abby rolls her whisky. "No, and I'll knock your block off if you tell anyone I was complaining. I'm just venting. I know how it is. I've been military since I was a fucking kid. Ninety nine percent tedium, one percent action."

"You still patrolling?"

"About once a week now, yeah."

Ellie shakes her head as if in pity.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, someone's gotta do this shit, and I'm a good rule follower. How about you?"

Ellie frowns as if she's being ridiculous, but she doesn't speak up.

"How about clerical?"

Maria started the program last year. Turns out not enough people were interested in the long and arduous path to become a judicator, but Jackson continues growing year over year. It's a sort of apprenticeship that–as Ellie understands–involves reading a lot of boring ass books and sitting around during trials and mediations.

Abby doesn't look up, just stares at her whisky and slowly nods. "Yeah, about what you'd expect."

Ellie chuckles.

"Are we gonna have to have this talk again?" Abby asks.

Ellie breathes deep and sighs. "Why don't you just say it so we can move on."

Abby cocks one eyebrow slightly. "Patrol keeps us safe week over week, but peace work and clerical prepare a person for leadership. And Maria needs her hardest and sharpest for leadership if Jackson is gonna hold together long term."

Wow. She really did put that succinctly.

Ellie would never admit it, but it makes her feel kinda small. Exactly what Abby is talking about has felt like a slowly tightening noose for a while now.

"Mm," says Abby, seeming pleased with the result, "no smarmy wisecracks, huh?"

"Nah," says Ellie. She eyes Abby's drink. "Hey, let me get one of those."

Abby scowls. "So get one."

This is gonna be a tough sell. "So I–"

"Ellie," says Abby in a warning tone, "you make plenty of money so I don't know why you're always leaning on me for–"

"I know, I know," says Ellie, "I owe you. I'll owe you this time, okay? I just made a big purchase today, and I… just gotta scrimp for a minute."

Abby stares at her. She's a lot more pliable than she'd have you believe. Especially with Ellie. "What purchase?"

"Get me a drink and I'll tell you."

Abby rolls her eyes hard, but flags Tony over and orders another.

"I went down to the Walker ranch today," says Ellie.

Abby's eyes widen just a little. She nods. "I forgot you were doing that. How'd it go?"

With a little smirk, Ellie fetches the polaroid from her pocket, handing it to Abby.

Abby looks at it and cocks an eyebrow. "Wow. That's a nice looking horse." She turns the picture over, then looks at Ellie with disbelief. "Barthas?"

Ellie chuckles. "I know, I know. I was thinking he should have an Arabian name or something."

Abby screws up her face. "Why?"

"He's an arabian."

Abby's nonplussed.

"An arabian horse, it's a breed." Ellie snatches the photo back. "Why he's so handsome."

"Ah."

"The name's stuck, though, I can tell he's used to it. And he's kind of… picky. Oh, and I found out he does not like being called Bart."

"Who would?"

Ellie chuckles. Tony walks up with her whisky and she thanks him. She takes a sip.

"How much he run you?" Abby asks pointedly.

Ellie's trying to savor the smoke on her tongue. She sucks in some air through her teeth. "Three fifty."

Abby's face goes slack. "Are you fucking kidding?"

"Came with a great saddle."

"Holy shit, Ellie."

"Believe you me, I'm the one that saved the notes–"

"Yeah, and you suck at saving. Does Maedlyn know yet?"

"No, and I'll be the one to tell her," Ellie says plainly.

Abby just nods. "You have a better eye for horses than me, but I hope he's worth it."

"He is," says Ellie. She could be wrong, but she thinks they can work together. She didn't get a horse just to ride him. She was looking for a partner. An animal with a brain, and he has one. As to whether they've got chemistry… She's on patrol tomorrow, she'll get a sense, but she has a good feeling.

"Is that what's eating you?" Abby asks. "The notes? Or Maedlyn?"

Ellie shakes her head firmly. "Neither. I, uh…" Ellie shifts in her seat.

Abby narrows her eyes. Unfortunately, she can tell when Ellie's being out of character. And she's not hiding it too well right now. Fuck it.

"I just been thinking about Eddie again."

Abby has to think for a second, then she nods. "Your last horse."

"Yeah."

"What's the connection?"

Ellie eyes her uncomfortably, turning her glass in her hand. "You ever have a pet?"

Abby shakes her head.

Ellie looks up. "Not one?"

Abby snorts. "Not really a thing, with the Fireflies. I know what you're getting at, though. Canine units were always mad protective of the dogs. They'd rather risk their own life sometimes, seemed like. They'd die, now and then, of course. The dogs. Guy would take it hard. Real hard. It's…" Abby scratches her lip. "It's responsibility."

"It's responsibility," says Ellie. She leaves out the other part.

"You worried?"

The words don't come right away. Ellie just looks at Abby. Neither one's mad, neither one's defensive. And neither one likes talking about their feelings. But this is not the first time they've sat across from each other at the Bison. Abby seems to get it. She just waits.

"Eddie meant the world to me, at that time, and I don't feel like I did right by him." Ellie's voice doesn't falter, but it's close. She stares off into the corner. "I did what I could… but I still got him killed. He was there for me. He wasn't just a mount, we were partners. He helped hold me together out there. I loved that. I loved him…"

Ellie's walking a line. She brushes moisture from her lash deftly.

"And I lost him and I'm looking at another partner and I just want to do right by him, but I know I can't guarantee anything. So I just… I don't think it's too soon, it just kind of snuck up on me. I kinda snuck up on me, and now I need to be ready and I'm just–" Ellie hesitates for a second.

"Scared," says Abby, and there's no doubt in Ellie's mind she gets it.

"Yeah."

Abby nods, and takes another sip. "I get it."

"Really?"

Abby nods, raising her brows. "Not sure I ever did before, with an animal, but what you just described I understand."

Ellie just looks at her. She gestures. "So make me feel better."

Abby smirks, and shrugs.

Ellie frowns. "That's it?"

Abby shrugs again. "What am I gonna say? The world's still dangerous. Still reason to be afraid. I guess I'll just say this; you're as smart as you've ever been right? So you're probably as well suited as you've ever been to doing right by him."

Ellie's chest pulses and her eyes get wet again. She looks down at her whisky. Maybe that is what she needed to hear.

"It's not like he's the only one around you have to be worried about," continues Abby.

Ellie looks at her. She doesn't know what she's getting at.

"You protect them, too, don't you?"

"Of course," says Ellie quietly.

"Which is hard, when you know there's only so much you can do?"

Ellie doesn't like what Abby is saying, but she can't argue. She nods.

"But that doesn't stop you caring, does it?"

It's surprisingly forthright, for Abby. She must have reason to say it. Ellie looks down at the table.

"Of course not, but everyone I care about now is in Jackson." She looks up, and now Abby does shift in discomfort. "That makes it easier. But Barthas will come with me out there."

"So keep it safe out there," says Abby. She punches Ellie softly in the shoulder. "You'll be fine."

With something of a rueful smile, Ellie leans back in her seat. "Well. That's my job, isn't it?"

It's about midday and Ellie and Jonah are about to start passing Jackson Lake. They're on Wide Lakes Route, running up the old highway to veer off toward Jenny Lake and skirt the tree line until they cross back onto the highway on the way back to town. The sky's clear and the sun is hot, but the valley breeze is on their side. The peaks from Bannon to Wildcat are rocky and bare in later Summer, but they've lost none of their majesty. Plenty of birdsong near the trees. And no infected.

It's Jonah's third day on patrol–they love giving Ellie the new ones–and he's doing… fine. Newbies tend to fall into a handful of categories, according to Ellie.

Serviceable. These folks do what they're told and may or may not come with a personality.

Impudent. These people could just as likely end up in Jackson jail, and might still if they don't do what the fuck Ellie says.

Boy scouts. These guys are a little too excited to be trusted with a gun and a horse. They're eager, but they're green and prone to make mistakes. Clint was almost certainly a boy scout. In the beginning, at least.

Jonah is a boy scout, too. In fact, he's the worst kind, because he obviously admires the shit out of Ellie. She can't really do anything about her reputation in Jackson, now. So she tolerates it.

"This a light run?" Jonah asks, a few feet behind her on Telluride.

"Yes," says Ellie. "Most are."

He shifts in his saddle.

Ellie screws up her cheek. "If you tell me about that runner in Cow's End one more time–"

"I wasn't gonna say anything!"

Ellie looks down at Barthas. So far, so good. This is his first day out, too, at least on Jackson patrol, with Ellie. To be honest, you'd think he did it every day. Ranging the country seems to be exactly what he's used to, which makes sense, because he was a scout's horse until some indeterminate amount of time ago.

She has an operating hypothesis that he's not too much trouble as long as he gets exercise. He's got a lot of energy, he showed her that at Walker Ranch. He's ten, Janet said, so kind of in his prime. That's fine.

She strokes his neck. She can't tell if he likes it, because honestly he's kind of a tough nut. But he's tolerating her and they're getting the job done. So far, so good.

"How comfortable are you on that horse?" Ellie asks him, actually looking over her shoulder.

Jonah is in that awkward place between child and adult. He's 17, and taller than Ellie, but he carries himself like a kid. He's got black hair down to his jaw, straight, and unfortunately for him, big glasses. Somewhat belies his skills, though, Ellie has seen him handle his weapon with a surprising amount of familiarity.

Jonah sits up in his seat, surprised to be addressed. "Uh… pretty comfortable."

Not the answer she wanted. "You ride before you got to Jackson?"

"No, not really. But I've been through Macy's training."

"Mm hmm." Ellie turns back around. "We'll do a little harder riding on the way back. Those are skills you need to keep fresh. As important as shooting."

"Yes, ma'am."

Ellie flinches inwardly. She's been letting him call her that all day, and she's starting to regret it. "Pull up here."

He follows her up toward the tree line, where there's a rocky outcropping just taller than the trees.

"What's up?"

"Next checkpoint," says Ellie, "and also the best part of the route."

"Ohh…" he says with excitement.

They tie up their horses to a sapling at the base of the outcropping and start climbing.

This checkpoint is a little precarious. The climb to the top is not easy, even for a fit patroller, there's a couple hanky spots. But the strategic vantage cannot be denied. Nor can the view.

"Whoa…" says Jonah, huffing, when they get to the top. Not only can you see much of Jackson lake over the trees, you can see every peak from the north of the valley to the horizon down south. The valley is a carpet of gold, and the dark line of the Snake River is visible in the distance.

The waybook is bolted to the rocks up top. Ellie thumps the cover. "Your turn."

He breaks himself out of his trance and scrambles over to the book to fill out the entry. Then he realizes he forgot his pen, and begins to climb back down to Telluride without so much as a word to Ellie.

As soon as he's out of sight she starts laughing under her breath. Kids.

Once he finishes, he sits down on a rock across from Ellie, who's occupying herself with a roll from her pocket. He looks over at her awkwardly.

She eyes him. "Forget your snack, too?"

His eyes give it all away, and he looks like he's about to climb back down again. She laughs, and tosses him the other roll in her pocket.

"Thanks," he says, biting into it.

They sit and enjoy the view for a while.

Ellie swallows the last bite of her roll. "Alright, time for a test," Ellie says suddenly.

"Test?" Jonah asks, mouth half full.

"Yes, rifle up."

Jonah looks nervous and eager at the same time. He gets into a kneeling position.

Ellie looks around. "There, you see the pinecone hanging from that high branch?"

"Uh… yeah."

"Knock it down."

He chambers a round. "You're giving me permission to fire?"

She snorts. "Yes, now do it."

He aims from kneeling. He'd be better off prone, but she lets him.

He pulls.

The pinecone explodes off the branch, pieces of it sailing through the air.

"Oh, shit," she says.

He's got the biggest grin. "That's what you wanted?"

"Forget what I wanted, but you pass the test."

"I really did not expect to get it on the first try."

"Yeah, me either." Now she kinda feels like she has to at least match him. There's another pinecone on the same tree, a little smaller.

She taps her instinct, shoulders and pulls. The little cone splits in two, half of it remaining attached to the tree, the other disappearing into the branches.

"Holy smokes!" says Jonah.

Ellie laughs against her will. "Did you have to… go and ruin it like that?"

"Oh… sorry. That was awesome though."

"If you say so."

"You know," says Jonah, "you've been quiet most of the day. I thought you'd spend more time lecturing me and stuff."

"About what?"

"I don't know, everything. I spent Tuesday on Black Rook with James, and he…"

"Wouldn't shut up?" Ellie offers.

Jonah chuckles. "Well, he told me an awful lot, I'll just say that."

"I'm only worried about telling you what you need to know."

"Okay… but what about if we run into bandits?"

She looks him up and down. "You've been worried about that, haven't you?"

He looks sheepish, but he speaks up. "Dad says bandits are more dangerous than any infected."

"It depends on the situation, but generally speaking, yes, he is correct. What did James tell you about bandits?"

"He said to aim for the chest."

Ellie clenches her jaw. "And?"

"Uh…" He screws up his face. "I mean, I don't know, he told a lot of stories. You would hide, for sure, if you could. If they didn't see you. If they do see you, you gotta be quick…"

Ellie suppresses a curse. "Okay, well listen to me, cause that's some shit fucking advice."

She has his full attention.

"If you are in a shootout with a bandit, yes, you aim for the chest. Hard to miss and they will go down no matter where you hit 'em. But that's about the last, last situation ever want to fucking be in, do you understand me?"

He nods.

"You'd be lucky to survive one shootout, let alone two, no matter which side wins, do you fucking understand me?"

He nods harder.

"When it comes to bandits, if at all possible, you want to resolve the situation without any shots being fired. It's pretty simple. The number one rule; you want to see them before they see you. Which means…?"

"Stealth."

"Remain quiet, keep your eyes and ears sharp. Minimize your visibility at all times. Particularly in unknown territory. If you do see them, and your party is smaller than theirs…?"

"You stay hidden."

"Damn straight. And if your party is bigger than theirs?"

That one makes him think. He bites his lip. He shakes his head. "I mean… if it's one or two, you can stick 'em up, maybe."

He looks to her for approval, but Ellie's face is still.

"But no matter what, it could still end up in a shootout if you reveal yourself."

"Yes it would, and what did I say about shootouts?"

"That I would be lucky to survive even one."

"That's right, Jonah, and I don't ever want you to forget that."

"How many shootouts have you been in?"

She hates when they ask those kinds of questions. She screws up her face and looks out over Jackson Lake. She's never come up with a good answer.

"A few," is all she says, but it took her way too long to answer.

"Then how are you still alive?" he asks, like a dumb kid.

Because I'm cursed.

"Because I'm freakishly lucky."

She looks him in the eye.

"And I follow the rules I'm teaching you right now, you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Damn it," she mutters. "Just call me Ellie, alright?"

"Yes–yeah, uh, sure, Ellie."

She laughs in her throat. "Just to be clear, encountering bandits out here is rare, these days. You won't likely see that in your first month, or first year if you're lucky. We've been here long enough, let's start making back."

When they get to the bottom of the rock, Ellie is stunned to encounter Barthas, right in her face, untethered.

"What the… fuck?"

"Did you tie him?" Jonah asks.

She could deck him. "Of course I fucking tied him." She grabs his lead. He's just staring at her blankly. She runs it over in her hands, and what does she find but some tooth marks that she's pretty sure weren't there before. "You have got to be joking."

"Did he… untie it?"

Ellie's never even heard of that, but it does appear to be what happened. "I must have tied it too loose or something," she lies for some reason. What, did he have separation anxiety? "Forget it," says Ellie, "let's get back before dinner. Lamb chops tonight."

"Oh shit, is it?"

They make good time down over the plain and across the river. They follow the highway for a couple miles only, for safety reasons, then veer out over the plain toward Blacktail Butte, for concealment.

Plains routes are some of the most dangerous, in a way. Impossible to avoid long sight lines, although those afford advantages to both parties in any kind of encounter. Ellie isn't worried anyway, because just like she told Jonah, she hasn't seen shit this way in ages. Maybe a runner wandering through the field grass or something. Shit, if that does happen, she can test out Jonah's aim from horseback.

She keeps to her word and has them gallop for a good mile, then she has them run a few different gaits, to make sure he stays steady in all of them. His lack of experience shows… but he handles Telluride alright. Should be able to move quick, if needed.

"So, I know it won't happen…"

Ellie rolls her eyes where he can't see. She thought class time was over.

"But if we do encounter people. What do we do then? We can hide, but… we can't just let them go on to Jackson, can we?"

"Listen," says Ellie. "Firstly, you're right. It won't happen. But if it did, we would see them from a long way off, out here. They'd probably see us, too, but standard procedure, we ride out to Jackson. They won't follow us there. Point is just to let city defenses know before they get too close, that's essentially our job. Aside from clearing infected."

"Okay… but what if–"

"No more what ifs," says Ellie, and for emphasis she stops Barthas and turns. "Listen, Jonah, this is a hard lesson but I want you to at least hear this."

He knits his brow.

"You're nervous, right? That's fine. That's good, it means you know the stakes. What you may not realize is that fear can work against you. Because it likes to come up with all sorts of hypotheticals that haven't actually happened and aren't likely to. This makes you tense. And tense leads to mistakes.

"Best thing you can do now and until you've got a handle on patrolling, just follow the experienced patroller's lead. And I'm telling you, we're gonna be fine, alright?"

"Yeah," he says. He's taking every word in, she can tell. He wants to please her. "Yes, Ellie, I understand."

She knows she was just like him with Joel, once upon a time. But if she has any say in the matter, Jonah's gonna have a much easier time of things than she did. She just nods, and they continue.

They're rounding Blacktail Butte. Once they clear it, it's past the East Gros Butte and more or less a straight shot to Jackson. Blacktail stands tall and lonely. Its slope is covered with thick trees, making it a pain to ascend, but the plains around it are as flat as a pan. It obscures sightlines, of course, but that's why they're using it.

At about the halfway point, Ellie gets an odd feeling. Nerves start tingling. What, did Jonah get to her? No fucking way. She scowls, looking around. Clear as ever.

She's getting ready to dismiss the feeling when Barthas starts acting strange. He snorts a couple times, then tosses his head. He looks back at Ellie.

Scout's horse.

She looks up the slope. Trees so thick, it's as hard to see out as in. Possible ambush site, but for who? There's no road here, just field.

The only sound is an easy breeze and their hooffalls. She don't hear anything.

She's just about to tell Jonah to stop when the first horse appears around a tree.

A lot of things go through Ellie's head in an instant.

Her eyes harden, and she nudges Barthas to continue forward.

"Whoa, is that–" Jonah starts.

She holds out a hand that says 'shut the fuck up.' He stopped his horse, but that ain't gonna work, so she snaps her fingers and makes a 'follow' gesture.

The rider noticed them a couple seconds after they saw him. More of his party is being revealed by the second.

Theirs is much larger, upwards of six men.

Ellie walks Barthas out in the open around them like she owns the land, because she does. Now she's got near a dozen eyes trained on her.

She counts eleven men, all of them on horses. They're geared, packs to rifles. All men. They do not look like traders.

Bad news if she ever saw it.

The men stare at her in amazement, eyes drifting between her and her young charge. She walks herself around the group until she's standing in front of them. She figures the leader will make himself known.

A man with short, blonde hair and brown scruff speaks first. "You got some brass balls ridin' up on us like that, girl." His face is dirty, and hard.

"I'll give you one guess why," she replies, leaning on her saddle horn. She doesn't bother with a gun, it's useless in this situation.

The man squints at her, then looks over his shoulder.

Down the slope between the hills, you can just see the fortified walls of Jackson. Trained eyes would never miss such an anomaly, even at a distance.

The man looks back at her. "You an outrider?"

"That is correct, and now is where I ask what you're doing on our land."

She doesn't have to look to know that Jonah is about ready to piss his pants.

"Who's land?" the man asks.

"Jackson land."

His eyes twitch. "Jackson Hole?"

"Just call it Jackson now."

"Shit," he says, looking over his shoulder again.

She takes it he can be reasoned with. "You trade?"

"Not in compromising situations, we don't. What's your name?"

Her face is hard. But she's putting on a show, because she knows she's dead to rights. But if they try anything, then they'll be dead by the end of the week at the hands of a Jackson hunting party.

But so will she and Jonah.

"Ellie."

"Ellie," he repeats, like it's funny somehow.

She gives him a pointed look.

"Victor," he says.

"Well, Victor, here's what your party ought to know about Jackson. We defend this land, from infected and other threats. We trade, if we find the party agreeable. And we respect known visitors. Unknown visitors receive an interview, if they're willing."

"And if they're not willing?"

"They move along. We do not abide squatters."

He snorts. "Squatters. Shit."

"So what's it gonna be?" Ellie asks.

"What you got?" he asks, gesturing toward Jackson.

Ellie frowns. "A hell of a lot, Victor."

He glances down at the walls again. "Okay, what you need?"

She frowns again. That's a better question for the quartermasters. "Can always use hard to get medicines. Rarer valuables, like jewelry, will get you trade here. We even take electronic components and some machine parts, if you for some reason are carrying that."

"Food?"

"We don't need food. We can offer it."

"It's a damn city…" Victor mumbles, only half attending to her. He's surprised like he oughta be. "It's not FEDRA, is it?"

"Can you tell?" Ellie asks, knowing it's obvious just from looking at her. "We're private, so to speak."

"Yes, you are."

"I have a route to complete," says Ellie. "What's it going to be?"

Victor eyes her, then turns in his saddle toward the other men. No words are exchanged, but some kind of temperature is taken. Victor turns back around. "We'll come along."

"Very well," says Ellie. "You'll fare better with my escort. Last thing, let's have a list of names."

"Names?"

"Just names."

"What, we need ID? You said–"

"No ID, we're not FEDRA, just what I been asked to do, that's all. It's how we keep track of who visits town. I get it, just give me a list of names, and we can go on. And there better be eleven."

Victor snorts, then he looks at one of his men. A guy with long, straight black hair tied out of his eyes starts going through his pack and pulls out a notebook. They start passing it around.

Finally, Ellie looks back at Jonah. He's pale as a ghost, though he's trying to act cool. She nods at him, and he nods back.

"Thought he was gonna piss hisself for a minute," says Victor.

Ellie gives him a disapproving look.

Victor smirks. "Only reason we're coming."

Ellie gets it. Factions that will take you for all you're worth and slit your throat don't send scared kids out on patrol.

Someone passes him the book, and he signs it, rips off the page, and hands it to Ellie.

She counts eleven names, folds it and puts it in her breast pocket. "Let's go, then. Follow at a half mile, no closer. You'll be treated with respect."

"I hope so."

If he's not reassured yet, the people working the land outside the North gate will probably afford him some comfort.

Ellie moves Barthas at a trot back toward Jackson, and Jonah follows. She lets out a long, slow breath. That was the scariest thing she's done in a long, long time.

At about a half mile, they start following. If anything, she's surprised they're so willing to play by the rules. A trader group would, sure. They're likely to be headed by a mean cuss, as it were, but they know how to play nice as a group.

These men are not traders.

They are hungry, but not starving. They can obviously handle themselves out here. But they are not accustomed to operating on the top side of any code, if she's any judge.

They could have simply shot her. There'd be no obvious recourse, but fortunately for both parties their leader is a thinker and knows that wouldn't play out well for them long term.

She feels a bit guilty bringing them to the gate. She suspects these men do not belong in Jackson, and Maria sure as hell ain't letting them stay.

Them getting set loose and hunted down is not off the table, but heads higher than hers decide that.

She lets out another long breath.

"So, that was crazy, right?" says Jonah.

She gives him a look. "Stay cool, Jonah. But yes."

"Why did you just–"

"By the time we saw them it was too late to avoid notice and too close to avoid exchange of fire. Despite how it felt, we have all the power out here. Victor is smart and understood that. And so here we are."

He thinks about that. "Those guys seem like…"

"Bad news, yeah," says Ellie. "Good job, by the way."

"Doing what? I just sat there."

"Not peeing your pants."

"What…? Oh, you're fucking with me."

She actually chuckles.

"It's kinda messed up, actually…" he continues. "I've had to pee for an hour."

For no particular reason, she pulls out the paper. It's an absurd regulation, since nothing would prevent them from lying about their names. Complicated to make eleven fake names on the fly though, isn't it? Then what do you call each other? She kinda just wants to see if anyone came up with anything funny.

She's looking down the list and they're all too boring to be fake.

Calvin Potter.

Tony Maglio.

John Beaty.

Then one name floats off the page and down her throat and all the sudden the sound of a gentle Summer breeze and hooves on the field is replaced by a long, high-pitched ringing sound.

Her limbs feel heavy, and her breathing shallows out. Jonah says something but she can't hear him at all. She stares down at the page, her body bobbing loosely in Barthas's saddle.

She reads the name twenty times in a row, sure she's reading it wrong.

But she isn't.

"Ellie?"

Jonah's been talking to her for a while. She snaps out of it. "What?" she asks in annoyance.

"Oh, uh… We're gonna need to report all this, right?"

He's talking about papers. "Yeah," she rubs her lips and jaw. "Yeah, Jonah, of course we are."

"Okay."

Jackson's only a mile away now. She can see the Wallaces out in their corn field, tending to the crop. Anthony Wallace is the only one that looks up. He can see the party following them. He stares, hands planted on top of his hoe.

The guard is signaling from the top of North gate tower. Ellie almost missed it. She signals back.

Neutral parties. Prepare for inspection.

There's activity on the tower, someone starts climbing down, to fetch the reception crew.

All very normal.

Ellie's chest is so tight it hurts. She just wants to be wrong.

She goes to put the paper away, then unfolds it and reads it one last time. The ninth name on the list, unmistakeable.

Lyle Dunn.

Author's note: For those (most I imagine) for whom that name doesn't mean anything; it refers back to Footsteps in the Snow.

At the Firefly compound on Catalina island, Commander Grayson presented her with a box that belonged to Ellie's mother, Anna. It contained a locket with her picture, her journal, and a variety of letters. Reading through the letters, Ellie found one, which through contextual information, she realizes was written by her dad. It was signed Lyle Dunn.