He held her, concerned. There were actually two signs to a post, the top of each pair blue and white, the bottom red and white. Eddie squeezed one of her hands; Jake patted the other. Part of her wanted him to stay—to stand close to her while the clouds sent their long shadows flying across the grassland—but they had been together out here too long already.
It landed on the foot-runner, but did not break. “Pestering cunt!” she whined, lifting her head briefly toward the approaching voice (almost here now, by the gods, and forty-five minutes before her time!). Southeast was still southeast, but the signs of the Beam which they had grown so used to following were gone. All three of them standing in a line at the cell doors now, eyes wide and mouths tight.
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