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everything.
    Marcus stood, along with Makara and Samuel. I focused my attention on their conversation.
    “I will speak with Char, but no more than that,” Marcus said. “He did something unforgivable. I will never let him go free from his crimes.”
    “Even if it means the survival of the Wasteland?” Makara asked.
    “Kid, there is something you must learn about being a leader,” Marcus said. “You can’t just do whatever you want. You have to have a moral compass. If you compromise with my brother – if you let him off the hook for what he has done – you place yourself in the same category he is in.”
    Makara said nothing, merely staring hard into Marcus’s eyes. It was rare to see Makara rendered speechless, but it was clear that Marcus’s words had affected her.
    “Char is like a father to me,” she said. “To think he would have done something like that is almost unthinkable, even if it was twelve years ago. Of course, I have heard of Rivertown before. Every Raider has. I just didn’t know all the details. I will have to talk to him about it.”
    Marcus nodded. “See that you do. You must be unyielding. Don’t give him any slack because you think of him as a father. In fact, demand even more of him. If he is worthy of the name of father, then he might think twice about what he has done.”
    “It could be that he has regretted it all these years,” Makara said.
    “I think not,” Marcus said. “Wouldn’t he have found us, if that was true?”
    “Char has a lot of pride,” Makara said, looking at Marcus. “Kind of like someone else I know.”
    “Humph.” Marcus folded his arms, turning to stare at the crackling fire. The orange light reflected off his blue eyes. I couldn’t help but think of the rage that burned within him.
    “We will see. But mark my words about leading, Makara. You must remain true to yourself and to your conscience. Otherwise, the only way you can possibly rule is by fear. And by doing that, you make yourself no better than Char, or Augustus, or Ohlan, for that matter. You say you want the New Angels to be like they were in the days of Raine.” Marcus turned back from the fire, and looked at Makara. “Ask yourself what Raine would do, and let that be your guide.”
    “I have asked myself that question every day for the past three years,” Makara said.
    “It is well, then.” Something in his tone signaled that the conversation was over. He looked at the ship. “Hard to believe, that such an artifact of the Old World still remains. I hope it will be enough to stop it.”
    By “stop it,” I knew Marcus meant the xenovirus. Now, he knew everything we did. But would that knowledge be enough to get him to work with us, when it meant Char was going to work with us, too?
    “We have a long day tomorrow,” Marcus said. “We will be passing a site of great sorrow for all of us.”
    The man around the fire nodded, and it took me a moment to realize what they were talking about. To get to Vegas, we would have to pass through where Hoover Dam had once stood. It was all river, now, but apparently there was still some way to cross over.
    I felt afraid, for a moment. With the Exiles and the Raiders enemies, we had to get our own house in order before approaching the Lords of Vegas. Yet there was no time for that. We just had to hope for the best.
    And hope, in this world, was rarely enough.
    ***
    We arrived at the crossing around mid-afternoon. The sight took my breath away. We had parked Odin , and now all stood on the edge of the canyon, looking down into the great chasm. Hundreds of feet below, the Colorado River churned angry and cold. Intermixed with the rock and water were the ruins of the massive explosion of twelve years past – large chunks of concrete, turbines, and metal, that were piled so thick so as to form a dam of their own. But the water flowed through, white, frothy, violent. The dam had long been conquered, and it was likely that the force of the water being