I don't want to process this, I don't want to think about how she came to be in this world with us.

 When we first arrived, stuck in quarantine, I couldn't help but think that there had to be some type of repercussion, there would be something that would have to occur to bring balance back into the situation. People couldn't just go to the future; something had to give. 

Running from our old lives, trying to escape the consequences of his lifestyle and fix this new world, it wasn't a big enough trade-off. Happiness and freedom couldn't be traded for. I want to get away from here, take him back to the compound.

Lock him inside, and remind him that he had promised me he was retired and should never have come for me. But, as the seconds in silence tick by, I find I'm much more concerned about his mental state than I am about him leaving me. It's a hard realization that I don't necessarily care if he has feelings for her, I just want him to be okay.

I close my eyes, deciding that I would not interfere; I would be happy for him whatever he chose, just as he would have been for me. 

"How?" I hear him speak, pulling me out of the depths of my damaged mind. Soli parts her lips to speak when Tonic interrupts us. 

"Guys." We are surrounded by vehicles, so distracted by this information that we don't even notice that we are being encroached on. I press myself closer to him, wondering how much more I have, how much more I could fight and be beneficial without drawing on him. 

His arm protectively comes around my waist as his free hand dislodges his harness from his hips. "How drained are you?" The words are stiff, trying not to move too obviously.

 Completely. 

I want to tell him. My eyes flick up to meet his gaze, finding it impossible not to look exhausted, but I try and force a smile through my respirator. 

"That good, huh?" His attention turns to Tonic and Soli. "We can't fight them off. There are too many."

Soli unthaws, taking in a deep breath through her teeth. "That doesn't sound like you."

Verando's eyes narrowed. "He's hurt." This seemed to surprise her for some reason; maybe she wasn't expecting him to care about my physical state. She runs a hand through her hair as the car doors open, and I recognize the massive, burly men climbing out. 

Their pointed teeth glint in the dull light of the hazy street lamps. I clutch his arm, trying to get his attention toward the approaching species that he hadn't gotten to see before. 

"Those things are challenging to kill," I warn him. 

"We just want to talk." One growls, wrinkling a rather feline nose, the teeth exposed to the light. "How did you purify all that water, kid?"

My temper boils amidst my oncoming migraine, I saved a nation, I had fought foes greater than anyone in this realm could fathom, and I deserved more respect than 'kid.' I fight against his arm as if I'm prepared to fight them all single-handed but he grips onto me to prevent my engagement in their threats, holding me back almost comically with my pathetic attempt to struggle.

"Down, boy." His voice is low in my ear. "You're in no state to get yourself flustered."

"Those guys must have hacked Artifice." Tonic's voice is hardly above a whisper as we back towards each other. 

"Can you shift with those metal limbs?" Verando asks him, glancing over his shoulder. 

"I can," Soli responds shortly. He exhales, gritting his teeth. 

"You can't carry Tonic." 

"Then there's only one option then, isn't there?" Her voice is hard and short. 

I feel him squeeze me ever tighter and flinch against his arm, patting him gently to release his death grip. 

"Doe, I'm not going to hurt him. I've been with him all day, trying to protect him from you, remember?" 

His expression tells it all. That was before she knew; that was before he realized who she was. The approaching men don't give us much time to think, and I twist out of his grasp. 

As quickly as I can, I rush to Soli's side. "It's okay. She won't hurt me." 

He reaches for me, but Tonic comes in between us. 

"Go. We got this." Tonic gives Verando a shove toward our oncoming threat. I watch as the wolf rips through the lycra material and stands before us, foreign on streets that weren't meant for this medieval beast. The gray coat stands out like a beacon of light in a sea of brown.

As I stagger for Soli, I'm met with a furry shoulder and find that she's shifted as well, a deep brown coat with white paws as if they were dipped in paint. She lowers her front half, and I reluctantly climb onto her, but as she straightens, I notice it's not me Alpha is looking at. 

A connection, the two wolves eye each other, for it's the first lycan he has genuinely interacted with on a primal level since we'd been here. I press my knee into her side, tugging carefully at her scruff to steer her away.

The thunderous roar of our pursuant echoes behind us as Soli leaps over one of their cars and bounds down the street, much like a hare through the forest. She's more agile than Verando, smaller but quicker on her feet. The sound of paws behind us fades as she surges down the sidewalk; we blaze past the ambling public and push our way through the dinner rush as people try desperately to escape the smog. 

I cough into my respirator at the scent of exhaust, and I can feel her slowing. 

"Don't push yourself, it'll be hard to find us in this haze."

She reduces down to a trot, laying her ears flat back against her neck. "You'd be surprised. They live out here, and they aren't human like we are. I'm going to take a long way back, and we'll go in through the garage, I don't want to lead them to the entrance." 

The big screen is lit up with a stage; whoever is speaking is far away as they pan out to capture the massive crowd. Everywhere we look, we're surrounded by the screens in the windows of shops and posted on street corners, giving off a strange light in the once-dim streets. 

"Friends, do not be fooled into thinking salvation can be had though false means! We must stay the course; with these hands, I will heal." 

I hear Soli growl, her chest rumbling.

 "I'm assuming that's the Great Bitch?" 

The wolf flicks her tail as we move, her coat bristled. I squint my eyes and try and make out the speaker, but all the camera focuses on are the crowds. The faces of those in awe by her presence, the sobbing beings who seem to worship at her feet. 

I grimaced. Was that what it looked like when I made my speeches? Surely not. I never claimed to be a god, and I never tried to convince people my way was the only way; though we did impose our will on those who wished us harm, the way she spoke gave me an uneasy feeling. 

"Wolf!" Someone screams, running from us, causing panic amongst the living corpses that trudge through the streets. 

"All will be healed through a giving heart. Donate to our cause." The voice drones on in the background, over top of the screams. "The rains come to those who give." It feels like a bad dream. 

Cars swerve violently as the crowd runs into the streets to escape us when they should be running from the inky black creature that stalks us down the narrow path. 

I hear the gentle chime. "Behind you," Artifice says helpfully into my ear.

 "Look out!" I yell, jumping off Soli's back as she darts forward, and the massive black cat leaps down from a ledge. It snarls, baring its teeth at her, only to hesitate when it spots my uncapped head. I scramble for my hat, pulling it back over my ears as the creature lowers itself into a crouch. 

"Shit!" I hiss, throwing up my hand for an ice shield, but no moisture is in the air. 

Soli wheels around on her heels, lunging for the cat and gripping its thigh with her fangs. The creature spins on her, hissing and squalling as I leap up and start to run. 

"Turn right."

 I hear Artifice again and hesitate; why should I listen to this program that's probably bugged? I reach for my respirator, intent on ripping it off my face. 

"Oxygen levels dangerously low. Removing the respirator will result in loss of consciousness with your current heart rate. Can I suggest a rest? You seem stressed."

I shake my head, trying to lose the voice. "Where are you trying to take me?"

"The last place you rested was four blocks from here. I assume that is where you would like to go? Turn left."

 If Artifice knows, does everyone else? I grit my teeth, obediently turning down the side alley and shoving aside the trashcans. I hear something behind me; the cans screech and groan as claws grip and yank on them. 

"Turn right."

 I dive down the side street, stopping to grip a dumpster and shove it with all my might, the sticky grit that covers it makes my stomach flip, and I try desperately not to vomit as I slip and slide on the slimy floor. With everything I have, I manage to make the dumpster take up the alley, and I'm running again.

 My body feels overly light, as if I'm running on fumes. My heart leaps as I hear the clang of a creature clambering over the metal. 

"How can I trust you?!" I demand the AI. 

"I am Artifice. I'm here to help you."

"You lead them to us!" I'm arguing with a machine. The voice commands me to turn left, and I'm shoving through people warning me of a wolf but not trying to stop me by any other means. My vision blurs around the edges as I hear the alert message that tells me my battery is getting low. 

"Did that displease you? You were in danger. They said they would help."

"Yes!" I shout, running across the crowded street and gasping sharply as bright headlights fill my vision.

 I throw up my hands, pleading for some form of hydration to create a barrier while I'm tackled to the ground. The warmth is familiar; I think Verando has found me at first. When I open my eyes, I see the yellow fangs inches from my face and feel the piercing claws puncture through my vest. I inhale sharply, gripping the furry wrist as the animal's weight bears down on me. 

My mask whines, pleading for another battery. I kick the creature in the stomach and flinch as the gloved paw slaps me across the face. My head spins, and my vision is blurry as I try to come out of the sweet layer of unconsciousness. 

I feel like I'm underwater as my ears ring while the voice in the distance plays repeatedly. Another blow to the head, I could feel it coming, I was going to lose it.

"Only you can save the planet. Only you can make this possible." The voice on the screen overhead casts an odd light across the sidewalk, flickering with the screen changes and blocking out the image of my attacker save for bloodstained ivory fangs. 

I blink slowly, trying to focus. 

"Yes. I have him. Yes. He has red hair. I'm sure she will be very interested to speak with him." The cat is speaking to someone, but there is no one that I can see. I think about Verando, how he fought his father with his bare hands when changing to a wolf was not an option, and swallow as I gag on the dust kicked up by our scuffle. 

My hand slips down as I clutch for my throat; the cat regards me with quiet disgust.

Could I do such a thing?

 It was worth a try; anything was better than giving in. I recall the warning from our days in the military, don't let them catch you. Don't let them take you. My hand finds my belt, and I wrap my fingers around the small blade. 

It was hard to focus on the creature before me, blurring in and out of focus.

"The ribcage is strong; if you hit a rib, you will bounce off. You must try to wedge in between on the left side. That's where the heart is. It's more central on a dog, but for a man, it's on the left." 

Gearing myself up, I envision my husband, focusing on the maneuver he would use.

"What do you think you're doing, kid?" The cat snarls. 

I jut my hand up, using my thumb to direct the blade; I grab the knife with my other hand and try to embed it into the creature's chest. What I didn't account for was the thrashing and violence that would ensue or the fact that the beast would instinctively leap away from my blade. The sternum slashed, and the cat clutches for its chest as it struggles to inflate its lungs against an opened chest cavity. 

I hold onto my sliced leg as the beast wheels towards me, taking shaky steps in my direction with a crazed rage that only a dying animal can possess. 

Scrambling backward, I fight against the grit and rock that slows me down. My body is greasy from the oil on the street, slathering me in fine silt that makes for an unfortunate amount of drag. 

I'm heavy. So damn heavy.

The beast prepares to pounce, blood leaving its chest at an alarming rate when a gunshot sounds, and I see Soli standing in the street. She's wearing a man's shirt, which is all; by the looks of the stretched collar, it's stolen. "Come on." She doesn't ask me if I'm alright; I'll die on the way if I'm not, I suppose. 

Guarding my injured leg, we return to the garage and race up the stairs, mostly through her dragging me like a child's doll. "Are you not locking it?" I ask her, wheezing as I realize the cat knocked off my respirator.

"No. The boys need to be able to get in. If the cats show up, we'll just have to kill them." 

Oh. Of course, we would. 

It sounds so simple to put in such terms. She yanks me up the stairs; even with her fatigue, I can tell this is not new for her. Verando often said she had lived her entire life on the street; injury and pursuit weren't things she wasn't accustomed to. 

As we entered the great room and climbed the familiar wooden staircase, she closed the door behind me, and I saw her fingers twitch as she tried to decide if she should lock it. Shaking her head, she guides me to the bar and points to the small stand-alone stool. 

I collapse into it, coughing and sputtering as my lungs suck in the slightly less offensive air. 

"You sound like I did when I first got here." She tells me, my expression assuring her that she's on the right track with her assumptions. "Undress, let me have a look at you," I note that she's bleeding from her arm and her thigh, her cheek, and some bruising on her throat. 

I remove my clothes slowly. My body screams in protest, but I refuse to make a sound as I strip off my top layers. She touches the gashes on my side, prying with her fingers in a non-gentle way. "Deep, but only the muscle, it feels like."

"Are you a doctor?" I gasp, seeing a white light that could very well be death, and I welcome it, only I'm not so lucky; it's nearly a blinding sensation that comes with the pain of being internally probed. 

She chuckles. "No. I've just seen a lot of cuts. None of your insides are outside; that helps." Her eyes skirt down, and she grips a knife from the counter, cutting my pant leg to look at my thigh. "This, however, could get infected. Probably needs antibiotics." She sighs, getting up to go to her cabinet and grab some clear liquid. "This is just vodka, but it should at least start the process of warding off infection. It's going to burn like hell, though."

"Already does," I tell her through my teeth. 

She looks amused as she splashes it on the puncture, and I visibly flinch at the intensity. 

"You're a big deal, aren't you? You've seen some battles. I was expecting you to wet yourself, but you handled it well." She eyes me as she goes over the rest of my body, taking inventory of my cuts and gashes. 

I can't help the odd look that crosses my face, "I'm just a man, I assure you. I did my share of fighting, but I wouldn't say I'm a big deal." 

How does one accept such a title? Maybe in my head, I can happily take credit for all my achievements, but it sounds so pompous out loud. Between the lack of wanting to explain myself and the numbing sensation of a mind teetering on the edge, I sag against my palm as I struggle to remain upright. 

Quickly, she rushed to help support me, then carefully guided my body to sit on the floor, leaning against the bar for support. "You've been thrashed around too much; I can't let you slip out on me just yet. Unfortunately, there isn't  a hospital around here that would take a magic user.. we really should get you seen."

Was she worried about me? Was I that bad off? I feel distant from myself; everything hurts, and the words echo between my ears as if my skull were a void.

"I need you to keep talking until you stop looking at me like an invalid."

"Afraid that's going to be a long evening." I manage, smirking at her gentle laugh. "I think we just got our asses handed to us."

"It appears so." She sighs.

After a long moment, she flops back onto the ground to sit, letting her legs splay out to the side as she rests her hands in her lap, exhausted. 

"Also. You're not just a man." Her voice is small, defeated. "You must be something extraordinary for him to care about you as he does."