But then I see it.

A circular ship, in the shape of a dome, light gleaming dully off the metal chrome plates encasing it. It is spinning and bobbing in the fierce current, at the river’s mercy. Thin lines of rope dangle from around its circumference, like the legs of an insect. At the end of each line is a little balled shape. I zoom in.

These balled shapes are submerged horses, lifeless and flaccid, dragging in the river on ropes like hung criminals. Early on, these horses must have steered the boat during the daytime while the duskers sheltered inside the dome. Three horses on each bank, each tied to the boat, guiding it down the length of the river. When the river current picked up, the horses must have been forced to break into a canter, then a gallop; and finally, no longer able to keep apace, they collapsed and were dragged into the river.

“What is it?” I hear Ben’s voice, sounding a million miles away.

I move the binoculars up the river. There are more boats. All domed, all dragging drowned horses at the end of rope lines.

“Do you see a dusker?” Ben asks, his voice rising hysterically.

I maneuver the focus with a trembling finger. Yet more boats come into focus, a whole fleet of them stretching down the length of the river. The current is pushing them toward the mountain cave. Toward us. I lower the binoculars.

Ben is staring at me. “It is, isn’t it? It’s a party of hunters,” he says, his voice whittling the air.

I shake my head. “Not just a party. There’s a whole army of them.”

Sissy bends over, hands on knees, as if punched in the gut. “Remember when we were attacked on the river? With the grappling hooks? I said they were getting shrewder and stronger.” She shakes her head. “I had no idea.”

“How is this even possible?” Epap asks. “How did they build these boats so quickly?” He turns to me as if I should know.

“Maybe they … I don’t know,” I say.

“A fleet of so many boats … you don’t build them in a few days,” Epap says. “It takes months, years. You’re the one who lived with them. Didn’t you hear anything about the construction of a fleet of boats?”

“No, nothing.”

“Let’s focus on what we do know,” Sissy says. Her voice grapples for steadiness. “We know the duskers are a couple of hours from entering the cave. The waterfall will kill a fair number of them, I should think, but many will survive. And it’s dark in the cave; those that survive will hunker down in it until nightfall.”

“And then what?” Ben asks.

“And then they come for us,” David says. He looks so small, his thin arms trembling against his sides.

“No,” I say. “They won’t.”

They all turn to look at me.

“Look at this wind. It’s gusting west-east.”

“Meaning?” Ben asks.

“Meaning they’ll smell the Mission first. So long as we keep heading east, staying downwind. The Mission population numbers in the hundreds. We’re only six. The Mission is a volcanic eruption of odors while we’re barely a wisp. So long as we put quick distance between us and the Mission, so long as we stay downwind, we’ll be fine. We keep running. We keep surviving. To the Promised Land.”

“They’ll follow us.”

I shake my head. “They’ll be so gorged on human flesh at the Mission, so inundated with human odors swirling around them, they won’t smell the faint riff of us dozens of miles away.” I look at the river. Even without the binoculars I can now see the black specks that are the boats. “But we have to move. This is the make-or-break time when we have to make speed.”

I grab my bag, swing it onto my back. I’m the first to the cable ladder, the boys right behind me. Epap volunteers to head down first, and straps Ben’s bag around him. “Don’t look down,” I tell the younger boys. “Keep your eyes focused on the rungs in front of you. Slow and steady, all right?”

Epap is grabbing hold of the post, planting his foot on the top rung when he stops. “Sissy?” he says.

She hasn’t moved. She’s still standing in the same spot, her face wrought with conflict.

“C’mon, Sissy!” I yell. “We have to hurry.”

Then her face becomes smooth, her inner battle resolved. She looks at me with eyes that are steady but moist.

“Hey!” I shout. “Let’s go!”

“It’s not that simple,” she says.

“What’s not that simple?” I say.

“Running away.”

“What?”

“We have to go back.”

“To the Mission? Are you out of your mind?”

“We need to warn them about the dusker boats.”

I walk back to her. “We go back, we die. We leave now, we live,” I say. “It is that simple. If we leave now, we make it to the Promised Land. We see my father again. It doesn’t get any simpler than that.”

“I’m going back to the Mission.”

I stare at her. “To what end, Sissy? They’re dead anyway. Even if we do warn them, how far do you think they’re going to get with those feet?”

“I can’t do this, Gene. I can’t just leave them to be ravaged.”

I turn to Epap. “You talk some sense into her, will you?”

But he only looks at Sissy with wavering, uncertain eyes.

“Oh, c’mon, not you, too, Epap!”

Sissy stares out to the river. “The Scientist told us we never leave our own. If we simply walk away knowing what we know, we’d be betraying everything he’s taught us.”

I point east with an angry finger. “The Scientist wants us to head east. The Scientist wants us to go to the Land of Milk and Honey, Fruit and Sunshine. The Scientist is waiting for us there. We go east. That’s what the Scientist wants! So don’t go telling me about what you think the Scientist wants!”

Sissy’s voice is quiet next to my berating tone. “If we leave, it’s their blood on our hands. The village girls, the babies. Hundreds of them. I won’t be able to live with that.”

“Oh, c’mon Sissy, they brought it on themselves.”

“No!” she says, her voice rising. “We brought it to them! Don’t you get that?” Her eyes search mine. “It’s because of us they’re now in danger. If we never came, the boats would never have come out this far. But for us, the duskers would never have discovered the Mission.”

The wind whistles across the granite domes. Long strands of hair blow across her face, but she does not pull them away. “I’m going back,” she says. “It’s the only thing I know to do. I will tell them about the duskers. I will convince them all to get on the train, to leave immediately. It’ll be a tight squeeze, but we’ll manage.”

“Are you out of your mind? Sissy, we don’t know where the train leads! That’s why we left the Mission in the first place.”

“And that’s exactly why we’ll get on. Because we don’t know. It might lead to deliverance. But if they don’t get on the train, it’s certain death.” Her voice is steeled and resolute. “Their lives have been hard enough. I can’t leave them to be torn apart by duskers if I can help it. I won’t be able to live with myself knowing I abandoned them.”

I glare at her. “Sissy, don’t do this.”

She ignores me, turns to the others. “You all go with Gene. Help him find the Scientist. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

“No.” Epap blinks hard, his face pale. He steps toward Sissy. “I’m with you, Sissy. It’s the right thing to do.”

“Me, too,” David says, brushing tears from his eyes. “Let’s go back to the Mission.”

“And me,” Jacob joins in, his voice shaking, a small, brave smile breaking out on his lips. “I’m with you, too.”

And then Ben is running to Sissy, hugging her tightly around the waist. She ruffles the hair tufting out from the bottom of his winter hat. She looks at me.

I break my eyes away. The wind blows, and though it is no stronger than the previous gusts, it cuts through me as if I’ve been emptied out, all substance sucked out of me. I kick a rock over the edge.

“This is what you want then?” I say. “To be chased, to be hunted? To be their prey your whole life? Born prey, die prey?” I look at them in turn. “This is our chance to be more than prey. To escape all this. But instead you’re choosing to go back to it, like an escaped animal right back into the cage.”

Nobody answers. In the distance, the clot of dots on the river thickens.

“We can be free!” My voice cracks. I thrust my arms toward the eastern horizon. “That’s where we need to go. East. Where my father is.”

I’m suddenly dizzy and light-headed, the ground insubstantial beneath me. I bend over, wait for the world to stop spinning. “Don’t do this, guys,” I say, and my voice, whittled by the wind, has lost all strength. It is barely a whisper. “Don’t leave me by myself.”

For a moment, they don’t speak. They stand perfectly stationary. Only their hair, blown by the wind, ripples in this tapestry of stillness. Then David moves toward me, and though it is but a single step, it seems as if he’s closed the whole distance between us.

“Come with us, Gene,” he says. “Please?” And it is that last word that breaks me a little inside.

I turn my head, gaze at the eastern horizon. The wide expanse, empty and barren.

“Gene,” and now it is Jacob who is speaking. “Come with us. You’re part of us now. You’re with us. I really feel that. You fit so perfectly. We’re family. We won’t let you leave!”

Nobody has ever begged or pleaded for me. For a few moments, I don’t say anything, only feel a strange molten warmth fill pockets inside me where I’ve only ever felt emptiness. I turn to face them again. Ben gazes at me with eyes wide with hope and expectation. He sees written on my face the decision I’m barely aware of making, and he breaks into a wide smile. He tugs on Sissy’s arm with excitement. “He’s coming! He’s coming with us!”