"I'm trying to fix things," he insists, but she slips out of the way like oil and he's left slashing at cloth and thin air. He jerks in her grip, attempting to dislodge her.

She doesn't understand. Just like back home, no one understood. They all cried out in horror and misunderstanding, shock stamped on their stupid faces when he came at them with rebar or waited for the faceless thing in the windows to take them. They didn't know what he was fighting for, and neither does she.

"Get off," he says, drawing the word out, thick with warning.