"Fallon?" he races toward me.
I rush into his arms and fall apart. My face sinks into the safety of his shoulder as he lifts me, clasping me to him. After a second he puts me down on the floor in front of him, his eyes shifting between mine. When he speaks, his words are both sharp and tender, worried and relived. "Are you okay? Where were you?"
"They're out there..."
"Fallon," he holds my face in his hands. His eyes narrow at the cut on my cheek, on the mixture of dirt and sweat plastered to my forehead and lips. "Are you okay?"
"I... I..."
"Are you okay?" he repeats his words slowly, his dark eyes shifting between mine. His grip on my face is secure - he's not letting me go until he gets the answer he wants.
I nod, tears swelling in my eyes. He needs to know. Now. A few drops escape, soaring down my cheeks. "I'm fine. I'm fine," I think of the disfigured trees, of Hinson I left behind. "But they're out there..."
"Who?"
"Everyone."