‘Squalid’ was the word that came to Wynn as they stepped into Ezek’s camp. High spire sensibility had little to do with it. Even Tyver, raised on scraps stolen from street gangs, had wrinkled his nose the moment he’d stepped from the cover of the trees.

There wasn’t a smell, or filth scattered about, or even untidiness. The camp was a simple assortment of lean-tos circling a fire pit still smoking with last night’s heat. The silence and smell of the fire even lent the place a sense of calm.

A calm before the storm, Wynn thought, eying the camp and wondering where the unpleasant word had come from. That, and where the camp’s occupants had gone.

“Well… let’s hope this wasn’t a waste of time,” Naomi said, stepping around one of the lean-tos and peering inside.

“They didn’t post a guard?” Kaya asked.

“No point t’guard a hole when t’plan is t’take another.” Tyver observed.

“No bags, no supplies. Nothing left behind. They’re carrying it with them, like us.” Gael eyed Tyver. “Maybe somebody taught them to be a bit more careful.”

The little thief grinned and hitched his pack a little higher. “Best be careful, they.”

Wynn chuckled, crouching over the fire pit. “They’ll be back. Best be ready, us.”

It would be quite a surprise to Ezek and company, coming back to a roaring fire. Wynn and Gael sat on either side of it, toasting bits of fish and watching the woods.

“Are you certain this is a good idea?”

“We brought the wood and the fish,” Gael said. “And to spare. It’s not like they can call us thieves.”

“Not that,” Wynn said. “Warning Ezek and his companions.”

Gael eyed his fish, turning it to brown evenly in the heat. “Helping others is always the right thing to do.”

“That’s not the same thing as a good idea.”

Wynn watched Gael shift uncomfortably. “No. No, I’m sure it’s a bad idea. There’s a chance we’ll help each other. There’s a chance we’ll hurt each other instead. From what Tyver has said, I think the hurting part is more likely. But there is a chance it won’t.” Gael smiled softly. “Fishing is always taking a chance.”

“A good chance,” Wynn pointed out.

“Sometimes,” Gael said, pulling the fish from the fire and inspecting it. “Not always. Not taking the chance at all guarantees you won’t get fish.”

Wynn scowled. “Fishing shouldn’t apply to so much. You’d be a lot easier to argue with if it didn’t.”

“Yes,” Gael said primly around a mouthful.

“We’ll take fish,” a rough voice said.

They both turned, startled. The speaker was broad with muscle and would have loomed head and shoulders over Naomi if their friend wasn’t being held in what had to be an agonizing posture, her arm bent behind her back at an angle that forced her to squat. Her own knife was held at Naomi’s throat, and though she kept quiet her eyes blazed with a fury that put the fire to shame.

“We'll take everything you have,” the speaker said over Naomi’s shoulder. “Drop your knives.”

Gael peered at them, then at his knife where it rested on the ground. He’d been whittling the sticks lining his side of the fire, each occupied with fish he’d already cooked. “I’ve already dropped my knife,” he said. “I’m holding a fish. Ezek, I’m guessing? I am Gael, Son of Cordelia. Please sit. You should have a fish while we talk.”

Ezek stepped into the firelight, forcing Naomi to stagger forward as she hissed in discomfort. Wynn could see other figures outside the ring of fire, knives out and glittering in the light. Ezek, though, commanded attention. He carried himself as though he could walk toward solid rock and expect it to either shatter or get out of his way.

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“I don’t need to talk. I just need you to leave. Do it, or I’ll cut her.”

Suddenly Wynn understood why ‘squalid’ had come to mind. Fear had stained this camp, saturated it. It was in the way the shelters were arranged, the patterns worn into the grass. It was in the posture of Ezek’s companions as they watched, the way Ezek moved and spoke. This boy had all the makings of a monster.

“There’s more to this than knives and packs,” Gael said. He hadn’t moved. “Please, let her go.”

Ezek shoved Naomi, the knife scratching a line in her neck as she tumbled forward. She tripped and fell, arms out to brace her fall. She was on her knees for all of a moment before she whirled, Gael’s knife angled toward the pulse beneath Ezek’s cold smile. The brute stepped forward, Naomi’s blade giving soft ticks as he tapped its point against hers. “Come on, girl. Let’s go again.”

“Let’s sit and talk,” Gael said.

Ezek laughed suddenly, and there was nothing honest about it. It was cold, calculated, the laugh of someone suddenly unsure of his course and trying another. He swept past Naomi as though she wasn’t there, plucked up a fish, and began to eat. “You’re hard to read. A freak. Like a damn robot, no emotion at all.” he said, fish spilling from his lips as he spoke. “Talk, robot.”

Wynn, struggling to keep still in all this, finally sprang to their feet. “Watch how you speak to him, Ezek, or I’ll end you.”

“Get in line,” Naomi hissed.

“Sit, both of you. Please.” Gael said, pulling what remained of his fish from the stick and tossing it into the fire. For the first time they heard something like irritation color his voice. “Father said repeating himself was terribly frustrating. Made him think I wasn’t listening.”

“Good dogs,” Ezek said as they sat to either side of Gael. “You train them yourself?”

“There are monsters on the planet with us,” Gael said. “Alien machines. They emptied the bunker you were planning to take. Those people are gone.”

“Machines saved me work, then.”

“They’ll save the Caretakers the bother of collecting us,” Gael said to the stick he was snapping into pieces. “If we don’t work together, we’re dead. We need-”

“ -I don’t need,” Ezek interrupted. “I have my knife, my bunker, my friends.” The way he said ‘friends’ sent a shiver down Wynn’s spine. “We’ve watched that bunker for a long time. Unless you emptied out the food they were storing, between their stores and ours we can last through the winter easily. You can do what you like.” He grinned, taking another fish. “Course, you’ll be doing it without your knives. Your packs too. And whatever else you’ve hidden in the woods. I’m not stupid, you wouldn’t bring everything here. You even had that one keeping watch for us,” Ezek pointed at Naomi. “She was stupid enough to try talking first.”

“The Nineteen… All humanity is at risk.” Gael said. “Don’t you care?”

“They put me here,” Ezek shrugged. “They can burn.”

Gael considered the larger boy for a long moment, then the last, pointed shard of wood in his hand. “You really mean that.”

“Course I do. So do they. So do you, you’re just stupid enough to pretend differently.”

“They…” Gael asked. “They who?”

Ezek sneered. “My friends, robot. The ones out there, watching us?”

“You don’t have any friends.”

“Oh, is that supposed to make me feel bad?”

Gael didn’t say anything. He just cocked his head, waiting. Ezek eyed him and then shifted his gaze, looking out past the firelight. He blinked, began to turn, and in a flash Gael had crossed the fire. One hand at Ezek’s wrist, the other dimpling Ezek’s throat with the point of his stick.

“You were meant to find her,” Gael said quietly. “She’s the loud one. You should have watched for them.”

Kaya and Tyver stepped into the firelight, grinning with satisfied malice.

“Not t’smart, they,” Tyver noted.

“Not,” Kaya agreed, mimicking the little thief. “Shouldn’t a watched t’fire.”

“We won’t be robbing you,” Gael said, " just taking the opportunity to make something clear.”

Ezek began to struggle and then stopped, eyes showing white as Tyver’s stick sank a fraction beneath the skin. Blood began to well around the little point. He swallowed. “You think you’re scaring me, robot? I’m ready for this. You better be. I’ll find you.”

“Good. That’s good,” Gael said. “We’re looking for a transmitter. We want to warn the Nineteen, and we want you to come with us. Stalking after us like sharks isn’t ideal, but at least it gets you and your companions out of the bunker. Gets you a chance. Between all of us, we’re more likely to find something that way. If you aren’t going to be useful, maybe one of them will be.”

“Useful?” Ezek hissed. “I can stay in the bunker-”

“And look like a coward?” Gael shook his head. “We beat you. If you stay, what will your people think?”

“I’ll kill you,” Ezek said. “I’ll do it, robot. Be sure of that.”

Gael considered that and stepped back, face impassive. He reached down and took Naomi’s knife from Ezek’s unresisting hand, finally looking the bigger boy in the eye.

“I’m sure you’ll try.”