Tara awoke again in total disorientation, there was no tent wall around her, just rocks, and it took her a few seconds to remember what had happened last night.
She was free.
Vincent had found her, and she was free.
She had been beaten, tortured, abused, raped and humiliated, but Vincent had saved her, and Tiberius would never lay his hands on her again. Relieve and the sudden absence of the strain she had been under felt like a knife through her soul and she had no means to stop the tears forcing their way out.

Dimly she could hear Vincent beside her move, and when he put an arm around her, she fell against his chest and wept. She couldn’t remember ever having cried so much, and she could hear herself mutter apologies and self-accusations between her sobs until at one point, Vincent told her to stop.
“There is no use in shaming yourself”, he told her in a low voice. “And there is no benefit for you in digging the pit you are sitting in even deeper.” He paused, and then took one of her hands in his. “I am not saying you should get on with your life as if nothing happened. But right now, you need to focus on survival. We have a difficult journey ahead of us. But once we have reached safety, then will be the time to put things right, and to learn how to deal with the consequences of those things that can’t be made right anymore.”

Tara took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. “Sorry”, she mumbled. “I... I just wanted to die”, she then added in a hoarse whisper.
“Doubtlessly”, Vincent gave back in a surprisingly gentle voice and ran his thumb over the back of her hand. “In trying times, death often seems the easiest way out. But when that is denied to us, we have to find a way to go on.”
Tara fell silent and listened to his heartbeat. Vincent was no stranger to pain, humiliation and torture, but the strength with which he bore his scars, both on body and soul, still impressed her.

“Vincent”, she whispered after a moment’s thought.
“Yes?”
“How do you do it? I mean... I know what you have been through.... how did you manage to...to go on?”
Vincent was silent for a while before answering. He remembered the training as he grew up, the flogging, Hoover Dam and what came after, and the way back home from Shady Sands. “I am not sure myself”, he then said. “But I guess there is a part of me that simply wants to survive, no matter what. And that will to survive has carried me through.”

“I am not as strong as you are”, Tara whispered hoarsely after a long silence.
“Maybe not.” Vincent’s voice was low. “But you are strong enough. And maybe it is not about strength but the will to survive.”
“I am not sure I want to, remembering the last days”, Tara rasped, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. “Will it even be worth it?”
“That is not for me to say. Only you can decide that. And for that, you need to focus on what lies ahead, on what there is yet left to do, rather than on what lies behind.”
Tara fell silent again and closed her eyes. Vincent was still holding her hand and his hand felt like an anchor to which she could hold on.

Sleep claimed her again shortly after, but she was too exhausted to dream.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Vincent woke her up again at dusk, and after they had shared a small portion of their meagre provisions, some jerky and some water, they set off again westwards, towards Laughlin and the Colorado River.
They walked silently, following the cracked tarmac band west that was covered in the ever shifting sands for large parts, but whenever they could, they used it to make more speed.
But Tara’s strength didn’t last long; it was not even midnight when the pains in her abdomen had worn her out. Vincent looked at her and with a deep frown on his face noticed the blood running down her thighs.
He dug into a pocket.