"They'll find me here."
He tried to stand.
He could not.
His legs would not work.
Sully sighed.
He looked at Levon.
"Levon."
"Yeah."
"You stay with him."
"I'm going to find the bikers."
"No," Eli whispered.
"No. Please."
Sully looked down at the boy with the kind of sorrow old men carry for young people who do not yet understand what is being offered.
"Son," he said, "you saved a woman's life last night with nothing but a coat and your bare hands."
"There's not a man in this city more deserving of a warm place to sleep."
"I'm going to bring them to you."
"You're going to let them help you."
"Because if you don't, you're going to die."
"And I'm not having that on my conscience when it's in my power to stop it."
Eli closed his eyes.
The tears came again.
"Okay," he whispered.
But the moment Sully ducked from beneath the tarp and disappeared into the snow, something in Eli broke.
The fear was bigger than the gratitude.
Fear had been living inside him for two years.
Fear told him adults were not safe.
Systems were not safe.
The only way to stay alive was to keep moving and never let anyone get close enough to put a hand on his shoulder.
Maggie had been different.
Maggie had been one woman in an alley.
Maggie was in a hospital now.
Maybe Maggie was already forgetting him.
The men coming with engines were not Maggie.
They were a club.
A club was a system.
And systems were what he had been running from.
He looked at Levon.
"I have to use the bathroom."
Levon looked at him for a long moment.
Levon was not stupid.
He had been on the streets for 20 years.
He knew exactly what was happening.
"Son," Levon said quietly. "Don't."
"Please."
Levon closed his eyes.
He was an old man.
His bones hurt.
He had buried more friends to the cold than he could count.
He could not chase the boy.
He could not stop him.
He could only choose whether to make him feel worse for going.
"There's an outhouse behind the second wall," Levon said.
"Don't be long."
Eli nodded.
He stood.
His legs almost gave way.
He caught himself against the wall of the lean-to.
He took one of the wool blankets with him.
He knew he was not coming back.
He limped around the second wall.
Past the outhouse.
Into the alley behind it.
Then he started to run.
He ran the way an animal runs.
Without thought.
Without plan.
Just away.