She doesn't really know, but she's not about to volunteer that if she can help it. What matters is that they're both really thirsty, and maybe this could help. Silently, she takes the flashlight and holds the beam over the woman's hands.

Vague memories spring up, not of helping with mechanical projects, but of drinking sour-tasting river water out of old soda bottles with labels that came off years ago. Green plastic and the taste of dirt, and silently going through the motions of being alive. She's going to have to start carrying a bottle of water here, too. Or - not a bottle, nobody has plastic bottles of water yet, do they? Maybe she'll find an empty jam jar and use that.

She knows better than to talk, but she wants to. What's your name, how does this work, have you seen any mannequins lately? Keep your mouth shut, and you'll both be alive a little longer. She remains a silent presence beside the woman, watching her steady hands and listening for tell-tale clicks and thumps.