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a corner and entering a short hallway, she stopped and pointed at a door. Bold letters across the center said ‘PATRULLA FRONTERIZA’, which he figured meant border patrol, same as on the boats.

“Perfect,” he muttered, moving to try the handle. “Gracias.”

Jason was relieved when the door opened easily, but it was an interior room without any windows. It wasn’t until he shone the flashlight around that he saw the front desk was manned by a corpse.

The pattering sound of retreating footsteps followed him inside the room, as the woman ran away. Jason didn’t blame her. It was a gruesome scene. His guess was that the lone border officer left behind, decided to control his own fate after becoming sick. His service revolver was still in his hand, resting under what was left of his head.

It took another fifteen minutes of searching, but eventually Jason found a cabinet on the wall that contained the boat keys. He used another ring of keys still hooked to the officer’s belt to open it, along with a safe that had two automatic rifles and several boxes of ammo.

Loaded down with his bounty, Jason reemerged into the daylight feeling much better than he had going in.

“Excellent!” Eddy proclaimed when he saw the rifles. “Those might end up coming in handy at some point.”

Jason scooped the boat keys out of his pocket and held them out. “Can we get the hell out of here, now?”

Eddy nodded toward the small grassy area on the far side of the terminal building. “They’re still finishing up with things. Why don’t you fill them in while I find us a ride?”

His mood souring again, Jason grunted in response before heading up the slight hill. Saying goodbye to friends was never something he handled well. He’d rather push on through the day and revisit his feelings later, when he was alone.

Tyler’s eyes widened when he saw the automatic rifles slung over Jason’s shoulder. “Cool!” While the happiness implied by the response didn’t reach the teen’s face, it at least got him to move away from the mound of fresh dirt.

Peta was holding a scavenged wooden plank, while Devon smacked it with a rock to set it firmly into the ground. All it had was his name, Alex Hernandez, and a heart. Based on the rough lines, Jason guessed Tyler had carved it. Marty sat obediently off to the side, watching them all with an unusual intensity.

“We don’t know his birthday, and he didn’t have a wallet or anything,” Tyler explained, when he saw Jason looking at the plank. Reaching out to touch the butt of one of the rifles, his face pinched up. “We should have known his birthday. I should have asked him.”

Jason placed a hand on Tyler’s shoulder, but didn’t respond. Anything he said would have sounded trite, so it was one of those times where it was best to remain silent.

“I didn’t even know his first name,” Peta added, wiping her hands on her jeans as she stood. Placing her hands on her hips, she nodded in approval at their work before turning to Jason. “Please tell me you found some keys along with those guns?”

“Rifles,” Jason corrected out of habit, before he could stop himself. “And, yeah. Eddy’s down finding the magic—”

The low rumbling of a large motor turning over made them all stop and turn toward the river. A puff of bluish smoke was wafting up from the long, tall dock, indicating which of the boats had been brought to life.

“Excellent!” Devon shouted, shaking a fist in the air. His smile wavering, he turned back to the make-shift headstone and traced his fingers along it before looking at Tyler. “Time to go, my friend.”

Tyler glanced at Peta who gave a barely perceptible nod, and then he looked up at Jason. “Will you teach me how to shoot those?”

The idea of having something other than The Kuru and the fall of civilization to focus on was incredibly appealing. Jason chuckled as he marveled at their ability to find ways to persevere, no matter how small the gesture. “I expect you to be a marksman by the time I’m done with you. But later, after we’ve made it to wherever it is we’re going.”

Devon called to Marty, and then grabbed at Tyler’s arm, leading him across the parking lot and to the truck. “Our next challenge is to consolidate all the crap we’ve collected into something we can carry,” Devon explained.

“I’m not the one who demanded pillows and a camp stove,” Tyler said. “I’m good with just the sleeping bag and a flashlight.”

“Okay, Mr. Survivalist,” Devon scoffed. “Let’s have this conversation again in a few days after sleeping on the floor of the jungle without any way to cook the snails.”

“Snails?”

The conversation faded as Peta moved around the grave to stand next to Jason. She took a moment to watch Eddy preparing the boat in the distance, and then raised an eyebrow at him. “What was it like?”

Jason grimaced. “About what you’d expect. Fortunately for us, one of the border patrol officers stayed behind, so I was able to use his keys.” He opted not to explain how the man had taken his own life.

Turning, they began walking together to the truck, where Devon and Tyler were already tossing things out of the bed and onto the ground. Marty was leaping from one thing to the other, sniffing at it and occasionally barking in excitement.

“You knew enough about Hernandez,” Jason said, after they’d gone a few steps.

Peta stopped, frowning at him. “I didn’t know how old he was, what his actual name was, or who he’d loved in his life. All I really know, is that he felt a deep shame for his involvement with ICONS, and I don’t know if he was able to find any redemption, before…” her

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