Jacob’s face was bright red, his hands shaking as he screamed at his daughter.

“Don’t even think about it, Sara! We are not taking that boy with us one single step!”

Sara looked over at her father and shook her head as she pulled out a bottle of water. The boy looked down at the silver pistol that Sara had tucked into the front of her jeans and then back to the bottle. She smiled and handed the water to him.

“It’s OK. The water’s good. Take it.”

He took it slowly from her, sniffing the mouth of the bottle before he began to drink, the boy nearly draining the entire container before Jacob stormed over and grabbed it out of his hands. Jacob threw the bottle into the middle of the street and turned to Sara.

“You listen to me, Sara. That is the last thing of ours that you give that boy. We are not running a charity. We are leaving right now, and he stays right where he is. I make the decisions around here, and what I say is final! Do you understand me?”

Sara turned around to face her father, the intensity in her eyes forcing Jacob to take a step back.

“So, it’s you that makes all the decisions, is that right? Like your decision to ignore the evacuations and let Mom die? Or how about your decision to just lie there on the ground a few minutes ago and do nothing? I had to kill that man because of you! How many other people have to die because of your decisions?”

Jacob was seething, but he could find no words to defend himself, the truth of what she was saying impossible to deny. Sara kept going.

“You can go ahead and do whatever you want, but I am not leaving this boy behind. You say that you make the decisions? Fine. Either he comes along with us, or you can go on without me. The decision is all yours, Jacob.”

Jacob could not believe that Sara would dare to speak to him in that manner, and he became enraged, spit flying from his mouth as he screamed.

“You think that you can talk to me like that? I am your father! I don’t give a rat’s ass how smart the tests say you are, or if you think you know better than me. That boy is not coming with us, and you are going to learn some respect.”

He stomped over toward Sara in a rage, a single fist raised. He was only a step away from her when he suddenly came to a stop, his fist unclenching, his jaw falling open. His daughter had turned to face him, the silver Beretta in one hand and the boy’s hand in the other. She looked down at the gun but kept it at her side as she spoke quietly to her father.

“This is your last chance to make the right decision, Jacob. I am not leaving this boy.”

Jacob stepped back and stared down at his daughter, a look of both defeat and disgust stamped on his face.

“Fine, Sara, just fine. You win. I hope you are happy, but he’s your problem from now on. He’s your responsibility, and he takes from your share of the supplies, not mine. Do you understand me?”

Sara tried not to show anything.

“Yes. I understand. He is my responsibility now.”

Jacob felt as if he were somehow gaining control over the conversation, and he continued.

“Good, as long as you understand what that means. That means that he drinks from your share of the water. That means he eats whatever you have to give him, because I am not sharing one bite with him. Do you understand?”

Sara slipped the pistol back into her jeans. Her answer was curt but civil.

“I said I understood you the first time. And unless you have anything else for us to argue about, we should probably get our stuff loaded in the truck and get moving. Who knows who might be coming down the highway next.”

Jacob had known from the very beginning that once Sara saw the boy, she would never leave him behind, and there was really no point trying to persuade her otherwise. He loaded the last of their supplies into the bed of the pickup and climbed into the driver’s seat. Sara turned to say something to him, but before she could open her mouth, Jacob put the truck into gear, the roar of the engine drowning out any attempt she might have made to communicate.

They left the highway as soon as they could, slowly winding their way south. The boy sat in the small area behind the seats and silently stared out of the window as they traveled, his hands clasped at his chest. Sara looked back at him every so often and studied his delicate features—his face was pale and flawless like doll’s, his eyes a fathomless, crystal blue. He looked to be no more than thirteen, and his blond hair was dirty and cut in a strange fashion, with long, angular bangs covering one side of his face, the back and sides buzzed close to his head. Sara noticed that the fingernails on one hand had been painted a dull black, and on the same wrist he wore a leather band, a series of teeth marks running along the edge. Sara turned to her father. She looked over at the map resting in his lap. She had already calculated the mileage and memorized the highways and routes that would take them south, but as always, she wanted more information.

“So, where are we going now, exactly?”

Jacob looked over at her and sighed.

“Do we have to have this same conversation again? We are going south, Sara.”

“I know that. But where exactly? Why can’t you pick a destination, make a plan for once?”

“I do not know, Sara. You want a destination? How about Mexico?”

“Mexico? Why Mexico? How do you know that it’s safe for us?”

“I don’t know, Sara. And when you say ‘us,’ whom do you think that includes exactly?”

Sara wrinkled her nose.

“I mean all three of us? I thought we had just decided that.”

Jacob scowled into the rearview mirror as he looked back at the boy.

“He is not coming with us all the way to the border, Sara.”

“What? You said he could come with us. What are you going to do—just drop him off somewhere on the side of the road?”

Jacob nodded.

“Yes. At some point, that is exactly what I intend to do. We will find a good spot and leave him with some food and water, and then he can fend for himself.”

“Are you serious? Look at him. Does it look like he can fend for himself?”

Jacob looked back at the boy again and shook his head. Suddenly, he swerved the truck to the side of road and slammed on the brakes. Sara slid as far over from him as she could and remained stone still, the thick exhaust settling all around them as Jacob turned to face her.

“The boy can go with us only as far as the truck takes us. Not a step farther. I am not going to be responsible for carrying two kids all the way to Mexico once the fuel runs out. This is the last and best deal you are going to get from me. I suggest you take it and be quiet. Do you understand?”

Sara looked back at the boy. He was still looking out the window. She nodded her head in agreement.

“Yes. I understand. Only as far as the truck takes us.”

Jacob slammed the shifter into gear and punched the gas.

“Good. Now be quiet and let me drive. We have still got a long way to go.”