They headed south in tense silence, sticking to the trees as much as possible, but using roadways in brief bursts when it was impossible to avoid them. Nick realized, as he walked, that he could tell which rebels had come from a City, and which had been from Freeposts, just by the way they walked. Everyone was fairly quiet, especially considering how much they were carrying, but some were a bit lighter on their feet and avoided making almost any sounds—the ones who had spent the most time as Freeposters. Others stepped on the occasional branch, dislodged the occasional rock down a hill—these, of course, were the rebels who had spent more time living in the Cities. He wondered how they had ended up with Clay’s rebels. How had they escaped? They all had stories to tell, he was sure. But not many in that group were big talkers. Kevin had gone a day ahead, which Nick wasn’t thrilled about, but at least Cass and Farryn were hiking with the group, Farryn limping along on the prosthetic leg but somehow keeping pace.
