Didn't even take him the hour. He did a little scouting on the side. Rambled into his log like he was still talking to D. Made a few marks in the paths leading away from his site that might indicate travel in that direction. Away from the caves. Everything fits on the second load, he's able to shove more in the jeep without a second body to haul. Even what Wash shot up, he grabs. His traps and tricks and tripwires, his everything.

Leave no sign. It's how he survived this long.

The drive back is quiet and quick and painless, a short stop to refuel and scan for any kind of radio signal. Any kind of broadcast on any frequency. A lot of static and a lot of nothing.

He unloads back at base, rounds up the kids. Shows them a few drills that he remembered from back in the service. One of them is running laps in formation, chanting to keep pace. Barbie Girl has never been more heartening.

They're at the chorus again when they swing by where Wash is, York pauses for a wink and a wave as they keep on around the compound.