Beth doesn't answer until he's stretched out on the bedroll and she's crouched beside him, arranging a blanket over him. "People are getting better. You will, too."

You're not gonna die. You're not. If he does, she doesn't know what she'll do. Go on, obviously--that's what you always do--but the thought of being alone here, of him buried somewhere underground, is just empty and unreal. "You want some water?" she asks him, like she would any patient. "Or tea, they have tea."