“Nothing’s changed,” Hawk told him. “You’re still lost. You just have company now. Have you seen anything of the others? Panther or Catalya?”
The other boy shook his head. “All I’ve seen is a whole bunch of nothing. Heard a lot of things, though. But not for a while. I think they gave up the chase, but I can’t be sure. This stuff is awful.” He gestured at the mist, shrugged. Then he glanced at Cheney. “Maybe Cheney knows where we should go.”
Hawk nodded. “Maybe.” He knelt in front of the dog for the second time. “Where’s Panther, Cheney? Can you find him?”
Cheney turned away and started off. Hawk and Bear followed wordlessly, moving across the rough terrain, wading through the haze. Hawk found himself somewhat reassured now that he had found Bear, a reasonable start to his efforts to get everyone back together again. With luck, Cheney would lead them to Panther and Catalya, and from there they would eventually catch up to the Lightning and the others. If the militia actually had given up pursuit, they might manage to reach the camp with the children and Helen Rice without further trouble.
He smirked at his own optimism. Unwarranted, unjustified, and totally unrealistic. Life did not work out like that in his world.
They walked for a long time—or what seemed to him a long time—before Bear spoke.
“Do you think you can really do it?” the big kid said quietly.
Hawk didn’t need to ask what he meant. He knew. “What do you think? Do you think I can?”
Bear shrugged. “I don’t know. You can do a lot of things no one thought you could. I think you can probably do some more. We all think that. But this? I don’t know.”
Hawk nodded. Fair enough. He found himself tired all of a sudden, as if the long journey from the walls of Safeco compound to the gardens of the King of the Silver River to the banks of the Columbia and finally to here had sapped him of his energy. He really didn’t know the answer to Bear’s question. He didn’t know if he could do it. How could he? He didn’t know where he was going or how far it actually was to the haven promised by the old man, the place where the coming destruction of everything could not touch them. He wondered if it even existed. He hated himself for thinking this way, but he couldn’t help it. He wondered how there could be anywhere safe in a world that was coming apart all around them. How could anyone survive such a thing?
Nevertheless, he knew he had to believe they could. He had to believe that his child would have a chance at life and not end up like so many others. His child and Tessa’s—he had to believe. He had to believe for the Ghosts, too. And for the children in the camp, waiting for him to lead them to safety. And for the others who would be joining them along the way. And maybe for the world’s future, as well. He had to believe.
But it was hard when there was so little reason to do so.
“When I was younger,” Bear said suddenly, “still living on the farm with my family, no one believed in much of anything. That was the problem. They only believed in what they could see. They believed in the present, but not the future. They were just hanging on, living day to day.”
“That’s what most do,” Hawk said.
“Not us. Not the Ghosts. We have something more. We have a future we believe in. That’s what’s different about us. We’re not just hanging on. We’re going toward something. Even if we can’t see it and don’t know exactly what it is. It doesn’t matter. Your vision feels real to me.”
He paused, head lowered. “So I guess maybe I do think you can do it.” Hawk looked over at him, and he shrugged. “You’re not like the rest of us. Even before I knew about this gypsy morph thing, I knew that. That’s why we all follow you.”
“Maybe my vision isn’t going to work out,” Hawk said.
Bear shook his head. “You don’t believe that.”
“No, I don’t guess I do. I think it’s real. I just wish I knew more about it than I do.”
“Maybe you know all you need to know.”
Hawk smiled despite himself. Such faith. “Maybe I do,” he agreed.
Ahead several paces, Cheney suddenly gave a low growl, and the thick hair on the back of his neck bristled. He stopped moving, freezing in place. Hawk stopped, too, listening. He heard Bear release the safety on the Tyson Flechette. Then nothing. He waited a moment. Cheney growled again and started forward. Hawk and Bear reluctantly followed. Neither liked it that they could see so little. Neither liked the idea of encountering a danger they couldn’t measure in advance. But there was nothing they could do about it; they had to keep moving and find out what was waiting. Better to find it than to let it find them.