The dreams—or, as he liked to call them, “appointments”—with Gage helped soften the blow of having to hide out, with little information, in a strange place he hated. Knowing that, at the end of the day, he would see Gage’s face again, talk with him, hold him—it made everything better. The lack of a mission. Kenna’s obsession with guns and fighting. And of course his loneliness.
It was so compelling, in fact, that he didn’t really notice or care that he withdrew from the others, grew distant and disinterested in his surroundings. The world crumbled while they waited here, kept safe by anonymity and a sea of mountains. But it didn’t matter. Dakota couldn’t do anything about it, not with little to no information coming in. And anyway, to hell with it! So long as the fighting and danger didn’
