“What’s the passphrase then?”, the other guard asked, obviously coming to think of this only now.
“Cogi qui potest nescit mori.”
“Very well. You can pass.”
“We won’t be back before daybreak”, Vincent said, and to Tara, he went on: “And now get moving. If you stop running before I tell you to you will carry your bowels around your neck on the way back.”

Tara nodded and set off in a jog, the pain jolting through her body with every step. But somehow, with focussing on what she was leaving behind and not on where she was about to go, she managed to summon the strength to continue jogging down the rise towards the I 93 that would lead them back to Hoover Dam. She could hear Vincent behind her but didn’t turn around, just jogged down the path, past some old houses and farms, keeping to the road. Here, Vincent caught up with her.
“Vincent”, Tara wheezed.
“Keep running.” He seemed no more out of breath as if he had walked the whole distance from the fort at a leisurely pace. “Save your breath.”

Tara gritted her teeth and continued, but eventually she had to succumb to exhaustion. Lack of food, water and sleep caught up with her, together with the pain from being raped, beaten and tortured. She stumbled with every other step, and suddenly would have lost her balance completely if Vincent hadn’t caught her elbow.
“Forgive me”, he said, his voice gentler now. “But do not stop. Walk, and keep breathing slowly.” He didn’t let go of her arm and Tara followed his advice, even though her vision began to swim. Her breathing began to calm down, and despite her trembling legs, walking became easier as the stitch from running began to subside.

“I guess I don’t have to tell you that we need to be well away with daybreak when they will discover you gone”, Vincent said after a while.
Tara mutely shook her head.
“Keep walking. But at one point, we’ll have to run again. We need to reach Golden Valley before daybreak, the sand will cover our tracks.”
“Golden Valley?”
Vincent pointed west. “We can cross the Colorado at Laughlin and follow the river up north to Boulder City.”
“Aren’t we going up Highway 93?”
Vincent shook his head, still staring west. “I gather that is too obvious, as it is the fastest route to Vegas. Going west through Golden Valley is more dangerous, but they could catch up with us too easily on the highway.”

Tara nodded and followed his gaze. “I heard Golden Valley was a deathclaw breeding ground.”
“I know.” Vincent shrugged his pack into place. “I made it through on the way down here, however. Once we reach the Valley floor we’ll find a spot to hide and continue travelling at night.”
With a sigh, Tara hefted the spear, but Vincent, upon seeing this, took it from her hand and shoved it into a holster on her back.
“Can you walk again?”
“I will have to, won’t I?”
“Yes”, was the simple reply, and with another sigh, Tara followed Vincent who set a brisk pace.

As Tara looked back at one point and realised that behind her, on the eastern horizon, the first grey line of dawn was showing, she shuddered, imagining a flood of crimson pour down the hills. She hastily turned around again.

“Vince?”
“Yes?”
“How... how on earth did you find me?”
Vincent shrugged his pack into place again without breaking his pace. “We found Cobra.”
Something in his voice told Tara that her flimsy hopes for him had been in vain. “He’s dead.”
“Yes. I am sorry.”
Tara fruitlessly fought her tears and sighed. “I had somehow hoped someone would find him in time.”
“He died way too fast for that. The spear pierced his breastbone and went right into lung and heart. He died within moments. No one could have saved him.”
Since she didn’t know what to reply, Tara kept focussing on setting one foot in front of the other. She could only hope he would remain the only one to die for her foolishness. Tears forced their way out of her eyes again and even though she tried to stop them she couldn’t quite suppress a sob.