"We will," Wyatt promised, even knowing deep down in the pit of his gut that it was hollow - unless the remaining went in a fell swoop, and soon.

He squeezed Howard's shoulder, pressed closer as if maybe if he willed hard enough, he could take on the boy's sickness - take it through his skin, through the heat against his cheek.

"You an' me, jus' like I said. Jus' need to stay strong a bit longer, son."