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same ones that hurt you."
    Kris traced the scar that ran the length of her jaw with one finger and slowly let
     her hand trail down her neck to where the second scar was. They faded some over the
     summer but both were still noticeable. She had finally shared with me her story a
     few weeks back, about the two men that abducted her after she set out on her own when
     her parents died from the virus. They beat her up and dragged her to a nearby building
     where they kept her locked up for hours before trying to rape her at knifepoint. She
     had a pocketknife of her own wedged inside her boot and was able to get away thanks
     to a great deal of luck. Not long after that is when Jacks found her hiding out at
     a gas station on the southern outskirts of Los Angeles, bloody and scared. It was
     an experience no teenager should have to go through. I didn't want her to return there
     and have to relive the nightmare.
    "You still think anyone traveling up and down the west coast would try and go through
     L.A.?" she asked.
    I nodded. "Yes, I do. You said the parked traffic was bad and that could be a problem,
     which is why I thought taking a bike would be best. If you lived anywhere near there
     and survived this," I waved my hand around the room, "…many people would probably
     look for others there. You did." I watched her nod slowly.
    "Yeah. I guess you're right. And if others do pass through there, I bet those jerks
     are still doing the same thing…waiting and grabbing who they can." She shifted on
     the bed so she was facing me. She opened her mouth to speak but clamped it shut and
     looked down at her hands.
    "What is it, Kris? It's okay," I spoke softly.
    "Um…did you mean what you said about getting a scooter?" She blinked up at me, a bit
     embarrassed.
    "You mean, downstairs?" I laughed loudly but stopped when I realized Kris was looking
     at me nervously. "Yes, I guess I did. Learning how to stay on a motorcycle is proving
     to be harder than I thought. Why?"
    "Well, because I know how to ride a scooter, my best friend had one. So I could definitely
     go with you then." She stared at me, gauging my reaction.
    "Kris…even if we did that - took a couple of scooters, it's a long drive. And what
     if we do find those guys…or more like them?"
    Her brown eyes looked up at me, pleading for me to say yes. "Just think about it,
     okay? I could help, I know I could."
    She got up, snatched the nail polish from the bedside table, and hurried out of the
     room before I could object again. The only thing girly about Kris was the fact that
     she enjoyed painting her nails, and everyone else's around her. Connor let her paint
     his toes once, but that was after several beers and a full on dare from Jacks that
     he wouldn't walk around with painted toes for a week. He lasted almost a month before
     I told him his pink toes were clashing with my orange ones.
    After I leaned back onto the bed, I let my thoughts take over. She's right. She could help us; she's not a kid anymore. Maybe I should let her come. I dangled my legs over the edge of the mattress and swayed my feet from side to side
     until the pull on my bruised lower back became too uncomfortable. When I sat up, Connor
     was standing in the doorway, watching me.
    "How much did you hear?" I asked.
    "Enough."
    "And…?" I waited for him to answer but instead he walked across the room and sat down
     next to me.
    "And, I think if you're sure you want to do this, I'll go with you. But not until
     you're better and we've got a solid plan. Okay?" His blue eyes sparkled as they bore
     into mine.
    I nodded and let my eyes fill with tears as he pulled me against his chest. After
     burrowing my face into his shirt while he stroked my hair, the clean and fresh scent
     that was Connor, filled my nose. I was grateful for the millionth time, that it was
     he, who pulled me out of the San Diego Bay, back in January.
     
    ***
     
    The waves pull away from the shore leaving frothy bubbles along