I leapt up from the ground and grabbed Wyatt by his shoulders.

"It's you!"

Wyatt pushed me off easily, but I came right back at him, grabbing for his collar or his hair or his eyes.

"Where? Where is she? What is that place?"

Jonathan grabbed me, picked me up easily and held me a couple of feet off the ground. "Quit acting like an ass, Stewart. First we have to stop you from killing yourself, then we have to stop you from killing Wyatt. You're a guest here, wanderer!"

"JONATHAN!"

A new voice rattled our ears. Jonathan turned towards it, eyes widening.

A madman stood at the edge of the haze. He held a shotgun in the air, and hauled a wagon full of dead bodies behind him.

"Jonathan! I have something for you, old friend!"