"Will. Not a problem." He shook Micah's hand briefly, then folded his arms again as the talks continued. It wasn't dark any more, which was both a good and a bad thing. Moving under the cover of darkness helped, but only when you were in smaller groups. So long as they passed for refugees heading back to their homes here in the daylight, and weren't stopped by anybody - any revolutionaries, any guards - they would probably be fine.
If they were stopped, though, he didn't know who all could fight. Iris had hung back. Russell hadn't tried to attack (though that was probably better, thinking back). He wasn't sure where the other three fell on the spectrum of battle-hardened. They had points, though; if someone came back, they'd leave, end of story.
"Right." He looked at Russell. "You remember where that place was? You'll lead us." Then back to Will and Jonathan, Iris and the other girl. "Get whatever supplies you can carry. How soon until she can walk?" Ten or fifteen minutes they could spare; any longer and someone would have to carry her, but not him - he was taking that weapon and making sure nothing happened.