Jaz and Ellie are the good guys. Look at their blogs, they carry the fire.
They squatted in the road and ate cold rice and cold beans that they'd cooked days ago. Already beginning to ferment. No place to make a fire that would not be seen. They slept huddled together in the rank quilts in the dark and the cold. He held their work close to him. So thin. My heart, he said. My heart. But he knew that if he were a good teacher still it might well be as she had said. That the two blogs were all that stood between him and death. (44.1)
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