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said. “I guess it’s better than sitting bored in bed all day.”
                  Serenity nodded. The dose began to hit her as she stood up and limped to the bed. She laid her hair out on the pillow to dry and shut her eyes, letting the painkillers take her off to sleep.
    ****
                  She woke again at some point after sunset, desperate for some water. Yandel was sitting at the kitchen table, mending socks. He glanced up when Serenity wobbled out of bed and hurried over to straighten her up.
                  “Save your leg,” he cautioned, helping her over to the sink. Serenity poured the mug of water, gulped it down, and poured another. She’d drained three mugs and filled another before she sat down at the kitchen table.
                  “I ate already,” Yandel said.
                  Serenity looked at the clock; it was well after eleven at night. “Oh, wow,” she said, her brows shooting up.
                  “There’s a reason they don’t fill hospitals with chairs,” Yandel said, standing. “The wounded need sleep above all else.”
                  Serenity sipped on her water as he got the pot of chili out of the fridge and stuck it on the stove. It soon began to hiss and bubble, and Yandel ladled out a good-sized bowl for her.
                  “You’re up late,” she said.
                  Yandel shrugged. “We’re running low on meat,” he said. “And I need to check the rabbit traps before the wolves get to them.”
                  Serenity nodded and took a bite of her chili. “There’s packs around here, then?”
                  “Just often enough to be a pain in the ass,” Yandel replied. “Better safe than—”
                  Their faces whipped around to face the door as it slammed open. Snow whirled inside around a lean, coat-wrapped silhouette.
                  Serenity’s throat twisted when her eyes caught the long, black steel flashlight in the stranger’s right hand.
                  “No,” she said, staring frozen at the door as Yandel marched toward it. “No—”
                  Marshall stood stock-still in the doorway, arching his spine back from Yandel’s advance. He wasn’t cowering. Just as it looked like he was about to topple over, he whipped his arm around to strike Yandel across the face. If Yandel’s size was fear-inducing, then seeing his form fall to the ground was even more so. Marshall surveyed the room as he stepped over Yandel’s groaning body, a knife-sharp grin piercing his round, freckled face.
                  “Where is he?” His eyes darted to the bed. “Oh.” He pulled a knife from his pocket, strode to the bed, and picked up Mr. Binky. Tears welled in Serenity’s eyes as he absorbed himself like an insane child in the task of shredding that one last thing that he hadn’t given her. He looked up at her now and then to make sure she watched as he destroyed it, shredded it too small to patch together and get punished for it later. A little square of black plastic skittered to the floor, a little green LED flashing silently.
                  “Oh,” Serenity said, staring at the radio transmitter. “You didn’t need the dogs—”
                  “They’re hounds , you stupid goddamn bitch.” Marshall dropped the frayed mess of strings that he’d made of her teddy bear.
                  He looked to his left and switched his knife to a fighting grip before Serenity even realized that Yandel was getting off the floor. It only took him three steps to get up the momentum to jump onto his chest, knife bearing at his neck. Yandel blocked his arm just in time, but it threw him off balance enough to give Marshall an opportunity to swing up on his shoulders.
                  Serenity screamed and stood