Hector didn't have to ask me twice; I was more than ready to get out of that compound. The greatest thing I could do at that moment was escape the fate the superiors had chosen for me, and I was all for it. I grabbed my blanket, knitted by Gramma, and held it to my right side tightly, taking Hector's hand in my left. Together we walked up to the window. When I looked down, my grip tightened. We were at least nine stories up.

"How?" I asked. Not only was I wondering how he'd gotten up, but I also wondered how we were going to get down.

"I have tricks," Hector told me with a shrug, and that seemed to answer both questions.

He hadn't let me down yet, and as it was, I trusted him much more than I could trust anyone else in the room. In that moment, I'd have followed him anywhere so long as it was away from there.

I turned my gaze from the far away ground, glanced back at a steaming, red-faced Dusty, then back to Hector, and said, "Good enough for me. Let's go."

Hector began to lift me, with a hand behind my knees and the other at my back as if he were practicing to carry me across a threshold. Then a thought occurred to me.

"Wait!" I cried at the last second.

I jumped from his arms, and ran back. For a second, Dusty wore a surprised, happy look, seeing me leave the superior standing at the open window and come back his way. It was short-lived. His wonderment faded as I passed him right by to snatch up my new potted fern. I wouldn't want to leave it behind. Somehow, in a world where hardly nothing is sentimental anymore, it had become important to me.

Hector seemed on the verge of full-blown laughter while I passed Dusty by once again. I didn't look, but I could imagine Dusty was much angrier than before. Good, I thought. Let him break everything in the place when we're gone. I had all that mattered to me.

I leapt in Hector's arms, tossed one arm over his shoulder, and hooked my fingers around his neck. With the other arm, I held Grandma's blanket to my chest, and my fern safely on my lap.

If I had to say one thing about being held by Hector, it would be: unbelievable. I choose that word for a few reasons. Never in my life did I entertain the thought that I could be so close to a superior and feel okay about it. Comfortable even. The other reason is because despite all of his coolness and strength, he somehow felt inviting to me.

"You might want to close your eyes," he warned, but I didn't.

I had to see what was happening as we plunged from the open window. There was no way I would have been able to shut my eyes, even though they began to water as we went down.

We were falling fast, the air stinging my eyes and blowing my hair about wildly. I watched the ground come closer and closer; at one point I thought, we're going to splat for sure! However, just before we reach the grass, we slowed, landing soft, as if we were as light as two brave and insane feathers.

I couldn't suppress the shout of laughter. It felt like I was on one of the carnival rides my grandma had told me about, and I wouldn't object to jumping again if it were possible.

A beat after his feet touched down, Hector took off. The ride didn't end after all. He sped, dodged, and leapt through the dark wild beyond the compound. It was exhilarating, the sense of freedom. It was something I never thought I would experience. I was enjoying it more than I expected I could, laughing gleefully and openly. I had known they - the superiors - were fast, but I'd never dreamed it could be such fun-

Until we came to the water.

He slowed gradually, and the rushing of water took over the whistling wind. A wide, rough river laid before us. It was clear that we would have to cross it. Call me a scaredy cat, but the water was extremely intimidating.

"I can't . . ." I said, trying to figure another way through or over. It wasn't as though there were boats hanging around, ripe for the pickings.

"We have to," he said.

"But I can't swim," I said.

"Just sit on my back and look pretty," he teased. "We have to go through here, or they'll be able to track our scent."

I felt pretty silly sitting on Hector in side-saddle fashion, cradling a knitted blanket and a potted fern, while he swam. He was as swift as a shark, and had I not been afraid of the water, I'd have been enjoying it just as much as I had enjoyed the rest of our great escape.

The water lapped at my thighs, though my jeans were already soaked enough that it didn't make a whole lot of darn. The sun burned bright and hot all through the day, leaving the night warm, and my jeans would dry quick enough when I got out of the water.

Unfortunately, in the meantime, reality started to sink in. I began searching the banks for superiors or deaders, either of which highly undesirable.

It felt as if my heart was sinking into my stomach. It toiled and fluttered, and despite the openness of being outside, I could feel the wild closing in on me.

"It's fine, we're almost far enough," Hector said, probably able to tell my change in mood with some odd predator intuition of some kind.

As I sat there, I began to realize things. I had been able to fight off Dusty; how long I would have been able to, I'm uncertain. The truth of the matter was that I could not protect myself at all out here. Without Hector, I was as good as dead.

This is what Gramma had meant. She'd clearly said, "You're going to need him."

How could she have known?

Nonetheless, I felt stupid for basically rendering myself helpless. What was I going to do if he got bored of toting me around? If I came face to face with a deader? Maybe I could fight one off, out of sheer desperation to survive, but what about two? or three?

I had to get used to the thought of fending for myself; something I never thought would be an issue.

While I pondered dark possibilities, Hector swam toward the bank. When he stood -allowing a moment to pass for me to readjust- the water was waist-high on him. That meant it would be nearly chest-high on me, but I didn't step in. I started to jump down as soon as I could touch bottom, but Hector's warning changed my mind fast.

"If a deader is under the water, I can't smell them. They can't swim, but they can't drown either. Sometimes they walk or crawl on the bottom for ages. If they decide to pull you in, I'm not sure I can get you in time. . ."

No way was I going through all this to be drowned and chewed up by a deader.

On the shore, I jumped down, marveling at the fact that Hector already seemed to be completely dry, save for his waterlogged clothes. I'd never heard anything about the skin of a superior not absorbing water the way a firsty's does. There was probably a lot about them I didn't actually know. Even his hair didn't seem to have gotten wet at all.

Here I was, drenched to the bone from waist down after my ride. My shoes were squishy, and for some odd reason, I was feeling extremely self-conscious. I had to say something, instead of just standing there ogling at him like a dripping idiot.

"Thanks," I said, awkwardly.

"Hey, no problem. It was fun," he said with that odd, too-perfect smile that screamed, "not human!"

His words sounded final enough.

At that moment, I was faced with a choice. Walk away now, or use his protection as long as he was having enough fun to allow it.