Their home under the dome wasn’t a home anymore. It felt more like a graveyard, a place Beau wanted to be far far away from. By that point, the atmosphere of the dome felt claustrophobic. It was only a matter of time before General Karakis would make a move on them. They had to hurry and pack. Everyone was allowed a single backpack of personal items. There wasn’t space for anything else. Outside the dome gate were the kid’s vehicles waiting for them, the Jeep and the Escalade. Every effort was made to fill them with every colonist and enough supplies to colonize an area of the outside world, which at that point was still a mystery.

  Beau went home and helped Rufus pack his things. That’s when someone knocked on the door. Beau opened the door to find Rena Thatcher standing in the afternoon light with an empty cardboard box under her arm. She fiddled with her flannel collar. She wore stained jeans and a pair of boots. She tied her hair into a quick ponytail. She looked casual. She was a lot less battlefield and a lot more girl-next-door.

  “Hey,” she said. “I, uh…figured I’d help.”

  Beau blinked. “Didn’t expect to see you.”

  She shrugged, looking away. “I’m already done packing my stuff and wanted to do something useful.”

  “You already did something useful. Actually, you did something heroic. You pulled pilot Rick Paul from the Blackhawk before the mantids got to him. How is Rick doing?”

  She flashed a smile. “Rick is good. He’s healing fast. He’s aching to fly again, the mad man. He’s the real hero, flying under such conditions and wanting to do it all over again.”

  Beau stepped aside. “Do you want to come in?”

  “Yes,” she said, a little too fast. Then she twirled a lock of her hair around her finger as she stepped into the house.

  “Okay,” she said. “What kind of battlefield are we working with?”

  Beau pointed toward the back. “Hundreds of books. Crates of ‘collectible’ beer bottles. Some things are labeled ‘Top Secret’ but it's really just a bunch of junk. We’re sorting then packing everything into my truck.”

  Rena rolled her sleeves. “Perfect. I was born for this kind of war.”

  She got to work without complaint. She stacked crates, tied off bundles, and sorted piles without being asked. She was direct and brutally honest about each item she touched.

  “Moldy cooking magazine,” she said, tossing it into the trash. “Smells like it, too.”

  Beau chuckled. “Rufus gave up on cooking a long time ago. No loss.”

  Rena raised an eyebrow. “He cooks? I respect that.”

  Beau snorted. “He tries.” He watched her for a moment longer than he meant to. The way she moved. The way her jeans hugged her legs when she hoisted a crate. She didn’t perform or act. It stirred something inside of Beau.

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  He shoved it back down.

  Rufus didn’t miss a thing.

  He winked at Beau from across the room with a mischievous grin. Beau rolled his eyes, already knowing what he was thinking.

  By evening, the house was completely cleared. Rena wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her flannel and leaned against the wall. “Not bad for two hours.”

  Beau nodded. “Thanks for the help, Rena.”

  She met his eyes. “You’re not so bad, Danning. The mantid thing…bombing them? That was an incredible mission. You gave everyone hope. Now, leaving Dr. Gerben’s mansion is a real possibility. You’re a true leader.” Her voice dropped slightly. “I didn’t give you enough credit before.”

  Beau shifted. “I don’t need the credit. I just need to survive another day.”

  “But you earned it.”

  They stood there. She inched toward him, a little too close. But it didn’t bother Beau. The silence stretched around them, but it wasn’t awkward. It was peaceful.

  Rena looked down, then reached up and brushed a smudge of soot from Beau’s cheek with her thumb. “You missed a spot,” she murmured.

  Beau raised an eyebrow, then gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “So did you. The Black Bird militia has grooming standards, you know.”

  She didn’t move. Neither did he. For one beat, maybe two, it felt like the gravity in the world had shifted. Then the moment passed and they both looked away, pretending like that didn’t happen.

  Rufus cleared his throat. “Grandson, can I borrow you for a moment?”

  Beau stepped away from Rena and followed his grandfather to the porch, where the light dimmed and the dome’s artificial sunset began falling from the sky. It would be their last sunset inside the dome and it was beautiful.

  “You have your target locked on the pretty lady?” Rufus asked.

  Beau scoffed. “We’re packing for an evacuation. We’re not flirting.”

  Rufus chuckled. “You think wars are fought with just bullets? You’d be wrong. Wars start with women. They end with women, too. Some wars are worth fighting for, Beau.”

  Beau leaned against the rail. “It’s not like that.”

  “Why?” the Rufus asked. “Because you might lose her? Because it’s dangerous? Wars are dangerous. Heck, they’ll even kill you sometimes.”

  Beau didn’t answer.

  “There’s more to life than surviving, boy. There’s beauty left, even now. Soon enough, we’ll be seeing real sunsets. Can you imagine? Everything we’ve experienced up until this point has been fake. Everything out there is real.”

  Beau swallowed. “I don’t know if love is possible in the real world. I have a bad feeling that it’s going to be too dangerous for that kind of luxury.”

  Rufus turned to him with tired eyes. “The real danger is never taking a chance on it.”

  Beau said nothing.

  A little later, when the bins were loaded and the house stood empty, Rena gave him a quiet nod from the back of a departing truck. That’s when he caught himself wondering. Could love exist in their new world?

  He didn’t know.

  But the question followed him.