Otto woke to the sound of a distant scream. It echoed in his head as he rubbed his sleep-clouded eyes and gathered his wits. Instinctively he pushed himself from the moonlight and deeper into the shadows. He pulled his legs under him sat still.

Otto heard the crackling of flames. Looking out the shattered window he saw an orange glow and knew that a nearby building must be on fire. Buildings didn't readily catch on fire by themselves. It took effort to get the city to burn again, but it could be done. He had seen it done. Plenty of times.

Otto heard movement and saw a shadow lurking not a dozen yards away. He crouched, ready to spring to the window. Could he jump down fast enough? Without breaking a leg? Doubtful. The shadow took a hesitant step forward, toward the shaft of moonlight streaking through a hole in the roof. Straight toward him. The shadow had seen him lying there, sleeping. Of course it had.

"Don't come any closer!" Otto whispered. "Don't make Otto shoot!"

Otto had no gun but the ruse had worked before, bought him time to dart away. He had been better hidden that time and near a doorway. Now he was tucked in a corner across the room from a window on the second story. Nowhere to go now if the shadow attacked. He weighed the advantage of making a break while he still had time.

The figure stepped forward again and something in Otto's mind clicked. He could see the shadow's slight build, almost like a child's. As his eyes adjusted to the dark he could see the figure had long, unkempt hair. Before the figure stepped forward into the moonlight, Otto's stomach had already started to unclench.

"Jackal? That you?" he asked. He hadn't yet gotten used to the girl's company. He was always nervous, jittery when he'd been sleeping. Hard for him to seperate sleeping from waking, dream from reality.

The shadow froze. "Otto?" Jackal asked, her voice much too loud in the night.

Otto went to her. He paused to take a better look out the window and saw that the building across the street—a small home or maybe a shop—was on fire. The building next to it too. He didn't think it would spread further. More steel and concrete than green leaves and dry wood, and no wind to carry it.

"Otto?" she asked again, her voice choked.

"Keep it down," he said catching her elbow. "What's the matter?" Then he pulled his hand away, rubbing his fingers. They were wet. He pulled her into the moonlight.

Her eyes had a distant, frightened look about them. She worked her hands, wiping them on a dark stain on her shirt.

Otto stared into her face. "What's wrong? What happened?" He shook her, though not hard.

Her eyes fluttered and she looked at him as though she just realized he was there. She let out a scared little laugh and clasped her hands behind her back. "Nothing," she said. Tears shone in her eyes.

"What happened? Talk to Otto."

She gulped audibly and licked her lips. "They're dead, Otto. They're both dead."

Otto gently pulled her down to the floor. He began packing their few items back in his bag. He didn't know what she was talking about but he didn't like the look of it. Bad things meant you kept moving. "Start talking," he said. "Tell Otto what happened."

"It was terrible," Jackal said and fell against his shoulder. She smelled musky and felt warm pressed against him. He swallowed and put his arm around her, patting her back.

"Talk," he said, his lips close to her ear. Her story spilled out between sobs.

She said she hadn't been able to get comfortable, couldn't sleep, so she decided to go for a walk. She told him not to look at her that way, she was careful and had done it plenty of times before. She said she could get in and out of tight places and was doing fine on her own before Otto came along.

"Go on," Otto said.

She heard voices from just the other side of the building and went to check it out, in case they were scavengers looking for people to rob. She crept around and saw a man and a woman squatting around a fire in pocket where a building had caved in. They were arguing about food or the fire, she couldn't tell which, but then the man slapped the woman hard in the mouth, real hard, hard enough to turn her head halfway round and knock her flat on her ass. The man stared into the fire after that like nothing happened, but she picked up a good sized rock and smashed it against his head. She didn't knock him out but she wished had. The man pulled her down by her hair and tried forcing her face into their fire. She fought back, kicking and screaming, ending up with one hand in the fire but she twisted away. Jackal thought the woman would run for sure, but she didn't. She grabbed a little knife they had on a crate and stabbed him the chest. He was surprised but that didn't stop her from doing it again and again until he twisted the knife from her and shoved her down. Why the woman didn't run then Jackal didn't know, but instead she went after him again, clawing at his eyes but he clubbed her to the ground and she kicked over the fire. He sat on top of her and started cutting but that only lasted a few seconds before he fell over.

Jackal took a breath.

The woman cried out but Jackal didn't go over until she knew for sure the man wasn't moving. In the dark she thought the woman might be okay and she tried helping her up, even though she was shrieking. Blood was everywhere and she could see a deep gash in the woman's neck and Jackal knew she wouldn't live. Jackal heard something and thought the man might be getting up but it wasn't. It was the fire she thought was going, but some of the coals had rolled inside a hole in the wall and started it on fire. The whole building was going up. The woman passed out and she was a goner anyway so Jackal quickly grabbed what she could but no, not the knife, she couldn't take that, and ran back to Otto wishing that she'd never left.

Otto cradled her head and rocked her as she spoke. He didn't like the story much, didn't think it made much sense, but he knew how being witness to that kind of thing could scramble the mind. But he felt uneasy and still wanted to move. That fire might attract the wrong kind of people. They'd want to be gone.

"Come on," he said standing and hauling her to her feet. "I have an extra shirt in my bag. You can change while you walk."