His hand sweated on the weapon, and Stone worried about whether he would be strong enough to defend her. There would come a time when their survival depended on him.Nothing ever had, at least not in this way. Feeding the brats, making sure they were safe? That wasn’t dangerous work, though it could be sad if one died despite his best efforts. He’d gotten used to caring for them but not getting attached. Too much pain could drive you crazy, and he had to block out the idea of their little bodies outside the barricades, carried away by the Hunters so the Freaks could feast and they’d leave the enclave alone.But that practice didn’t exist anymore. Nothing familiar remained in his world.Except Thimble and Boy23.She had to be tired. Her ankle wasn’t strong under the best of circumstances. He was bigger, stronger, but even he needed a rest. Yet he couldn’t request one so long as she put one foot in front of the other. If she had the endurance to keep going, so did he. Stone desperately wanted her to think well of him.
