They didn't leave the pit right away.
They drifted out of it.
The crowd closed behind them like nothing had happened, the noise folding back in on itself—cheering, shouting, caps changing hands. Another fight would start soon. Another person would go down.
It didn't matter.
Not here.
Jason didn't look back.
"That's enough," he said.
David followed.
This time, he didn't argue.
Away from the pit, Graveyard felt different.
The noise didn't disappear—it thinned out. Broke apart into smaller sounds. Conversations. Deals. Quiet arguments that didn't need volume to carry weight.
People weren't watching anymore.
They were working.
That was worse.
"Supplies first," Jason said.
David nodded.
Simple.
Normal.
Something to focus on.
They stopped at a trader's setup built from mismatched scrap. Everything had a place—ammo stacked, tools laid out, parts sorted into small containers like someone had taken the time to make sense of it.
"What are you looking for?" the woman asked.
"Ammo," Jason said. "Water."
She gave him a look like she'd heard that a hundred times already.
Jason set down a few caps.
Not enough to argue over.
Just enough to move things along.
She pushed a small box toward him and two sealed containers, a dark, dried blood stain smeared across the corner of the box.
"Don't ask," she said.
Jason picked them up. "Wasn't planning to."
They walked again.
David noticed how people watched without staring.
Quick looks.
Then away.
Like everyone knew where the lines were—and what happened if you crossed them.
They passed a fire where something cooked low and slow.
Jason traded without hesitation.
"Eat," he said.
David took it.
Didn't question it.
Didn't want to.
They sat for a minute.
Not resting.
Just… stopping.
Graveyard didn't push them here.
That didn't mean it wouldn't.
David glanced back toward where the pit had been.
"You ever get used to that?"
Jason shrugged slightly.
"You stop thinking about it."
That didn't sound better.
They moved again.
Looking for somewhere to stay.
Jason didn't ask anyone directly. He didn't need to. He watched the place—doors, movement, who belonged and who didn't.
David tried to follow his thinking.
Didn't quite get there.
They turned down a quieter stretch.
Less firelight.
More shadow.
That's where David saw them.
Two Rad-Mares tied near a building.
Still.
Alert.
Their coats were rough, marked by the wasteland, but they held themselves different—strong, aware, like they knew exactly where they were.
David slowed without meaning to.
"…those real?"
Jason glanced once. "Yeah."
David stepped closer.
Careful.
The nearest Rad-Mare watched him.
Didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
He reached out slowly.
"Hey…"
His hand rested against its neck.
Warm.
Solid.
Real.
For a second, everything else dropped away.
"No way…" he muttered.
"Careful with that."
David turned.
A man sat nearby, back against the wall, watching without really watching.
"Not mine," he said. "But they don't like being bothered."
David pulled his hand back slightly.
The Rad-Mare didn't react.
"Didn't seem to mind," David said.
The man shrugged. "Some don't."
Jason stepped forward.
"We need a place for the night."
The man nodded toward the building.
"If there's room, it's inside."
Jason looked it over.
Then back at him.
"And you?"
The man picked up a bottle, turning it slightly in his hand.
"Just passing time."
David looked past him.
That's when he noticed the river.
It wasn't loud.
Just there.
Moving.
Constant.
Fog sat low across it, hiding everything past a certain point.
You couldn't see where it went.
Only that it did.
"Dock?" Jason asked.
The man nodded. "Out back."
They went.
The wood creaked under their boots as they stepped onto it.
The shack leaned behind them, lantern swinging slightly in the wind.
The river stretched out ahead.
And the same man—
Was already sitting at the edge.
David stopped.
"You didn't—"
"Move?" the man said.
He didn't turn.
"Didn't need to."
Jason stepped up beside him.
"You run the river?"
"Sometimes."
"We'll need out in the morning."
The man took a drink.
Watched the water.
"Maybe," he said.
David frowned slightly.
Everything about this guy felt… off.
Not dangerous.
Not safe.
Just… separate.
Jason didn't push.
"We'll talk then."
The man nodded once.
Like that was already decided.
"Cole," he said.
That was it.
David sat down on the dock, leaving space between them.
Not too close.
Not too far.
The water moved below them, quiet and steady.
Behind them, Graveyard kept going.
Deals.
Voices.
People becoming something else.
Out here—
None of it reached the same way.
David glanced back toward the Rad-Mares.
Then out into the fog.
"Feels like a different place," he said.
Cole took another drink.
"It is."
Jason leaned against the doorway.
Relaxed.
Like he'd done this before.
David sat there a little longer.
Thinking.
Trying to figure out which part of this place was real.
Tomorrow—
They'd leave.
Tonight—
They stayed.
And the river kept moving.
Like it didn't care who made it out.