He doesn't hear what's said, but he sees the look on Tom's face, and then Florence, as she kicks dirt over the coals and turns to follow, her pack slung over one shoulder and her rifle at her side. He's used to them as a unit, cohesive, and while that still feels true, it feels less true than it did. Hard to explain. But they're all out of sync, and there's nothing to be done about it now.

He shoves the passenger's side door open and nods up at Tom, slipping the keys into the ignition and listening to the familiar, comfortable roar of the engine. The car looks like a piece of shit, but the engine is good, always has been good, and it runs, and that's what counts.

So it can take them to Neil.

"Everybody ready?" He turns his attention to the road, a gap through the trees, and the ugly gray sky. "Here we go."