As Beth entered the room, Leo was sitting at the table. An oil lamp stood next to him, its soft glow blending with the last daylight.

He looked up and nodded at Rock, without making eye contact with Beth. "Thanks."

Rock handed him the pistol. "I'll be at the village if you need me," he said, then he left and closed the door behind him.

Leo studied a piece of paper in front of him, not saying a word.

"How is your sister?" she asked to chase the brooding silence away.

He looked up. "The same. Her bleeding has almost stopped, but she's not well. Spike hasn't found Doc Faith; she wasn't at home. Tomorrow, I'll go and look for her myself."

A small cough followed by a whimper came from the bed. Hope's cot stood on it, right beside the big teddy bear.

Leo motioned her to the table. "Sit." The light from the lamp cast shadowy half-moons under his eyes. He looked tired.

He had almost lost his sister today. Beth had never had one, nor a brother. Her parents had died in a chopper crash so long ago, and the years had dulled the pain. His was new.

"You said you can write?" he asked.

She sat down, nodded, and raised her eyebrows at him, curious about where this was going.

"Good." He pushed the sheet of paper towards her. "I want you to write this letter, in your own hand. It'll be delivered to your folks in Seaside."

The yellowed paper carried writing in pencil. Beth had to hold it up to the lamp for reading.

Dear Parents

Bert and I are being held in the city. We are treated wel, but we will be killed unless the things on the included list are brought to the city bridge by the next full moon.

Thank you for saving our lifes.

"My parents are dead," she said.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He looked away from her, gazing at Hope's cot.

"But I've got a grandfather. And these words will fuel his anger."

"Write it to him, then, and he can have a tantrum if he wants. I don't give a damn. I assume he can read, right?"

"Of course, he can. He was born in the age of tech." She hesitated. "When it ended, that is, and when everything outside the gated communities succumbed to chaos. Anyway, everyone at Seaside learns to read and write." She doubted that this was a common skill among the gangs and wondered where Leo had learned it.

"Good for you, then. So your people can read all the letters we send them. Now write."

She scanned the rest of the text once more. "Burt is written with a 'u'."

"Whatever." He handed her a pencil and another sheet. "You can correct the writing when you copy it."

Thank you for saving our lifes. Even with its mistakes, the woody wording touched Beth. A simple phrase, but its urgency was hard to deny.

The pencil was worn down to a short stub, and its wood almost crumbled between her fingers. But it was ancient and still working.

More coughs came from the cot, wet, and deep ones.

"And what if I don't do your bidding?" she asked

Without a word, he moved away to pick up Hope. The baby whimpered as he did so.

He held her close to his chest, rocking her gently, and she quieted down. "Please don't try this." His voice was soft. "Don't put up a fight. We'd make you do it... Hammer would. And he's not a gentle man."

There was no menace in his tone. Still, when she remembered Hammer's stony stare, she shuddered.

She studied the draft letter again. "Why don't you ask for the medbay?"

Flora would need it.

"I... Both Hammer and Flora didn't want it to be part of the deal," he said.

Hope whimpered.

"Write." With that, he began pacing the room, gently rocking his daughter while doing so.

Beth returned her attention to the letter. They would take it to Seaside, as a token that they were still alive. Her people would hold it in their hands—and be able to examine it.

An idea formed in her head, and—as she wrote—she retraced the letters S, T, A, D, I, U, and M with the pencil, emphasizing each one of them.

STADIUM

Would they notice the hidden message at Seaside? And would they understand? The stadium could be easily raided from the air, with the chopper.

Or would Leo recognize the code?

Her heart was pounding.

"What's taking you so long?" He asked.

She looked up, feeling the heat in her cheeks, searching for an explanation. "I was... just remembering something when I wrote the part about the full moon."

He frowned.

"It's an old quote. Where, indeed, does the moon not look well? What is the scene, confined or expansive, which her orb does not hallow?"

His frown deepened. "... her orb does not hallow? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind, it was written even before the age of tech."

Without Seaside, the beauty of the past would soon be lost and forgotten.

"Old words," he said. "By people long dead."

"True. Yet these people live on through their writing."

Hope coughed.

"Shush, dear." Leo laid his cheek on his daughter's head while he held her against his chest. Her tiny, naked feet dangled from the blanket she was wrapped in.

"Is she ill?" Beth asked.

He nodded. "She's been coughing for days now. It's probably just a cold. But sometimes it gets so fierce, it makes her puke." His gaze was on his daughter.

"May I see her?" Beth rose. She felt sorry for the child, and the man looked as miserable as only a helpless father could.

He frowned at her, hesitating. "Back there on the highway, you said you've got... a doctor's training, right?"

"No, not really. I'm just learning some things." Most of them were about operating the medbay. She sometimes suspected that her trainer Corinna didn't know much more about doctoring than anybody else.

"Okay," he said. "Have a look at her. But be careful. She cries easily, and my mother is asleep next door."

She walked over to him, and he gave her the child.

The small, fragile body felt far too light and insubstantial to be a human being, yet when Hope saw Beth, she gave her a two-toothed smile. She had her father's inky hair, and snot ran from her nose as her large, dark eyes studied her new holder. Her skin was hot to the touch.

"Do you have a tissue, a piece of cloth? I want to wipe her face." Beth sat down on the bed.

As she did so, something hard pressed against her buttocks.

It was the knife she had hidden under the waist of her skirt.