by Lou Cadle
She checked the brooding hen while she was there. The bird seemed contented on her nest. She fussed a little as Sierra sneaked out an egg to candle, but Sierra had done this many times before in her life, and knew how to move quickly and efficiently, without causing a hen undue stress. She should get one of her own hens sitting. Maybe two. If there was any chance at all that these kids were the neighborhood’s permanently, they’d need a lot more eggs and a lot more cockerels to cook up for dinners. The only way to meet that need was to increase the flocks. The trouble came with the space they had for nests. They might also have to build a second coop.
Sierra would rather be out there with her rifle, hunting enemies, than worrying over this domestic stuff. But everyone needed to be fed.
Chapter 3
When she was done with dishes that evening—more mundane tasks—she went over to the Quinn house to see how Dev was. The sky was still light, though the days were getting shorter.
Dev was in his room, in bed. “Hadn’t seen the bunk beds,” she said, tapping the wood of the top bunk.
“I had been sleeping up top, but my mom says not until I’m better.”
She sat cross-legged on the floor to talk. “How are you feeling?”
“Headache, but nothing else.”
“Really?”
“A little sore. How’s my eye look?”
“Like you were drinking all weekend. Or all weekend every weekend of your life. And maybe got in a bar fight Sunday night on top of that.”
“Great. Like a bum, in other words.”
“Like a warrior.”
“Some warrior,” he said, disgusted. “I’m in bed like a kid with the measles. Even Rudy is probably doing more than I am today.”
“Can you remember what happened?”
“Yeah, perfectly well. They hit me and Mom with grenades. Or didn’t hit us, but hit the woods right by us—the trees we were using as cover.”
“They left their grenades behind.”
“Yeah, my father showed me one. We talked about how to arm it for throwing. He cut one open, even.”
“Wasn’t that dangerous?”
“He knew what he was doing. It was pretty interesting inside. I hope he can figure out what to do with it.”
“Braver man than I.”
“You’re incredibly brave. Too brave.”
She didn’t think so. “I’m doing what has to be done, is all. Just like you.”
“How’s your dad?”
“Healing. On watch right now.”
“And the Kershaws?”
“Crowded. I can’t imagine thirteen people in that house, but they are managing. Rudy seems to be doing great with the kids though. Emily still isn’t talking, I guess, not even with all those other children around her.”
“Yeah. I can’t imagine what she’s going through.”
“I can.” She shook her head. “Well, I guess I can’t—I mean, certainly not being thirteen and having that happen.”
“But you’ve thought about that kind of thing? Worried about it?”
“Came too close that night Bodhi died.” She shrugged. “But every female over fifteen or so thinks of being raped, plans what she’d do, knows it’s possible. It happens to a lot of women. Maybe it always has, throughout history.”
He scrubbed at his face.
It took her a second to understand he was fighting off tears. “Dev, what’s wrong? Are you in pain?”
“No. I just feel bad.”
“I’ll get your mom. I saw her in the garden.” She reached out for the edge of the bed to balance herself for standing.
He grabbed her wrist. “No. I’m okay. I feel sick inside. Like bad in my mind.”
“Maybe it’s your head injury.”
He shook his head. “No. It’s not that. It’s what they were doing to Emily.”
“Oh.” She settled back on the floor. “I know. It was awful to see.”
He shook his head again, and then reached up to it and rested his hand on the top. “I have to quit doing that. Shaking my head is the only thing that really hurts.”
“You sure you don’t want your mom?”
“No, definitely not. I want you—I mean, I want to ask you something.”
“Sure.”
“It’s personal.” He was blushing.
She felt a little more cautious. “Okay.”
His gaze slid from her face and seemed to focus on the far wall. “It’s about that.”
“That?”
“I—oh, never mind. I have no idea why I thought I could ask you this.”
“Go on and ask. Really, whatever it is, it’s okay.” She suspected he was going to ask her something romantic. She’d mentally rehearsed her “I like you but not in that way” answer already, weeks ago, back when he was first teaching her about hunting.
“Don’t look at me.”
“Where should I look?”
“Turn your back.”
At least that didn’t sound like a romantic proposition was on its way. “Okay.” She scooted around on the floor and faced the chest of drawers on the other wall. “Go on.”
“You know, before all this....” He cleared his throat.
“Mmm-hmm?” She made it an encouraging noise.
“Before all this, sometimes, you know, when I....” This time he was silent for so long, it was all she could do not to turn around and look at him. “Okay. When I was—you know—thinking about girls and stuff.”
It took her a second. “Are you talking about mas—?”
“Don’t say it!” he said.
She wanted to laugh but controlled herself. “Okay. I get it. And?”
“And sometimes I thought about that. You know, doing that with a girl.”
She said, hoping this was not what he meant, “Forcing her?”
“No!” he said, obviously shocked that she’d even thought that of him. “No, the other. You know, with the mouth and that.”
“Yeah.”
“Does that make me sick or something?”
“Oh Dev,” she said. And she felt so sorry for him, not having guy friends his own age, not having anyone to talk to about this stuff. “No. It’s perfectly normal. Can I turn around now?”
“If you won’t look at me like I’m a freak.”
She did turn, and she gave him a sad smile. “You’re not a freak. It’s really and truly normal. It’s one of the things people do together, after all.”
“And girls like it?”
“It can be fun,” she said. “But only if you want to and like the guy. I mean, nobody wants to be forced to do something they don’t want to do. Imagine yourself in Emily’s shoes. That’d really be awful, wouldn’t it?”
“I’d bite it off. I swear I would.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible, but maybe you could. In any case, no, you weren’t sick to daydream about that.”
“I’m sorry if I grossed you out.”
“No.”
“Or embarrassed you.”
It was awkward, and she doubted he’d have brought it up had he not been a little loopy from the explosion. “Hell, Dev, you’re embarrassed enough for both of us right now. Compared to you, I’m totally relaxed.”
He nodded, and his face grew serious. “Do you think a girl will ever do that with me?”
“I’m almost one hundred percent sure of it.”
“You’re the only girl I know.”
She didn’t want to go far down that conversational path. “You know, if the plan works out, and if we can liberate Payson—you know about the plan by now, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll be better by then, and I’ll be there. I promise.”
“Then there should still be some girls down there. Or girls in that other neighborhood we’re meeting with in a couple days. You can go down there again when it’s done. Date, even. You’ll be showing a girl how to clean a rifle, or plant rhubarb or whatever, and she’ll look at you, and remember you helped save the town, and you’ll both
feel sparks, and that’ll be it. Love among the rhubarb.”
“What if she’s been hurt too? By the invaders. The way Emily was.”
“Then go slow with her, or let her take the lead. Women and girls get raped, yeah. Too many of us. But we heal, I’m pretty sure. I was pretty freaked out after that guy touched me in the barn. And today? I’m way better. I’m sure it’s far worse if something really did happen, or if it happened more than once. But people are pretty resilient. I didn’t think so at first, but now I know that I’ll get over Bodhi’s death one day and quit feeling so guilty about it. And Emily will talk again one day. And your future girlfriend will want to make love with you.”
“Or I could die a virgin.”
“I hope not. I’d hate for that to happen. I’d hate for you to die period, virgin or not.”
“I don’t want you to die either.”
“I know you don’t.”
“You’ll be careful, whatever we do, when the shooting starts again?”
“I’ll defer to whoever is in charge.”
“And rein in your impatience?”
“And rein myself in.”
“You promise?”
“You sound like Pilar,” she said. “Yes, I’ll be good.”
“I know you’ll hit what you shoot at. I’m not worried about that. I hope I can go to keep you out of trouble.”
“As if you could order me around.” She was teasing. It was hard to be angry with him when he’d just bared his soul to her. Sierra stood. “Anything I can get for you before I leave?”
“No, I’m okay.”
“You rest and do what your mother says.”
“Now you sound like my father. Except he sounds angry when he says it.”
“He loves you, Dev. He was really worried when you were unconscious. I wish you could have seen him then.”
“Mom says he has a hard time showing it to me. If I ever have a kid, I’m not going to be like that.”
“No, you wouldn’t be. You’re a more open person by nature.”
“I am?”
“Considering the conversation we just had, I’d have to say yes.”
He blushed again. “I’m sorry if it upset you.”
“It didn’t. You’re not a rapist, Dev. You can rest easy about that. And it’s normal to think about blowjobs and stuff like that.”
She left then, smiling a little to herself. Poor kid. He’d probably been worried about that blowjob thing for days and days. She wondered if he’d regret talking to her about it. His concussion or whatever pills he was taking might have made him talk to her in a way he wouldn’t normally. She considered the possibility that she wouldn’t survive the meeting with the other neighbors, and that this would be the last private conversation she’d have had with Dev. She thought back over it and realized she’d been kind to him, and that seemed like a good way to leave things.
That thought stopped her in her tracks. She detoured from the path she was taking toward home and went to join her father on watch. Just in case things in Payson didn’t go so well, she wanted their last conversations together to be good ones too.
Chapter 4
Her dad was sitting on a piece of tree trunk from the trees that had been blown up the other day. Arch’s night vision goggles were around his neck. She said, “You going to be here late enough to need those goggles?”
“Sierra? Is something wrong?” He stood.
“No. I just wanted to come out and say hi. We haven’t talked in a couple of days, it feels like.” They had, but she wanted to give him a chance to say whatever it was Joan had hinted that he wanted to say. She expected a lecture on being careful, not taking chances, and staying alive. She could bear listening to that again. She knew it came from a place of love, so she’d sit still for it.
“I shouldn’t have been sitting anyway.”
“You feeling bad? In pain?”
“No. No worse than I have been. I’ve been walking the woods a lot looking for that missing kid.” He stretched cautiously. “I guess I’ll check the road now.”
“I’ll go with you.”
They looked up the road in both directions, seeing nothing. There were no sounds either, except for the evening sounds of songbirds settling in for the night, the first hoots of owls preparing for the hunt, and a faint angry chatter of a squirrel.
“You know what’s odd?” she said. “I haven’t seen any house cats out there. Just one in a front window in Payson. Think their owners all ate them?”
“Or if they were left to run loose, they got eaten anyway. Coyotes or whatever.”
“Seen any coyotes close to our road?”
“No. Saw a fox one morning.”
“Did you shoot it?”
“I didn’t want to wake everyone up and worry them.”
“A fox could go for hens or rabbits.”
“Not if we keep everything in good repair.”
“You didn’t want to kill it, did you? You’re an old softie about wildlife.”
“I am,” he said. “About all life. Let’s check across the road.”
They crossed the highway, passing the pile of charred human bones. She could still feel heat coming off them. “When they cool, we’ll have to scatter them.”
“Scavengers might do that for us.”
“Glad something will get some use of those bastards.”
“Sierra,” he said.
“Mmm?”
He didn’t say anything as they walked along, moving through the woods, for at least a minute.
She stopped, knowing he wanted to say something, and said, “What?” She wanted him to go ahead and give her the rest of it. She figured it would be something like, “Be careful. You’re the only child I have. Promise me you won’t take risks.”
“I’m worried.”
“I know.”
“About you.”
“I know. I worry about you too.”
“About who you’re becoming.”
That wasn’t what she had expected to hear. “What do you mean?”
“You’re getting so cold. You shoot people. You seem to think nothing of it.”
“Only if they shoot at me first.”
“And in Payson. The ones who were molesting Emily. They didn’t shoot first, did they?”
She was getting angry. “And you think I shouldn’t have? Shouldn’t have stopped that when I could?”
“I don’t know,” he said, shocking her.
“If someone is raping me, I hope you’ll shoot them,” she said. “Talk about cold!”
“I would. I would, to protect you. But I’d regret it.”
“I don’t regret it.”
“I know. That’s what worries me.”
Sierra was confused. She didn’t expect this. In fact, she expected praise for what she’d done. Praise, gratitude, maybe even admiration. “You don’t need to worry. I know what I’m doing.”
“You feel okay about invading Payson?”
“Liberating it. Completely. You don’t?”
“I don’t.”
“What? That’s crazy. Those guys down there, they’re dangerous, and we can’t rest as long as they are down there. And they’ve killed thousands. Raped. Driven people from their homes. Those aren’t good people. They don’t deserve to live.”
“Maybe not,” he said. His eyes scanned her face. “I love you so much.”
“I love you,” she said, though right now she was irritated with him.
“I didn’t raise you to be this person.”
“Of course you did. I only had one real parent.” She really didn’t get his point. She could hear the disappointment, the sadness in his voice, could see it in his face. But she didn’t understand it. And it was pissing her off more than a little. “I’m the same woman you raised.”
“I didn’t raise you to be a killer.”
“The world has changed. I’m defending our home. Our food. Our neighbors. And you.”
“Shh, I know that. The men who
se bodies we just burned, they were attacking us.”
“That’s right!”
“I know that. But the men in Payson weren’t attacking you.”
“They were attacking a defenseless girl. I don’t see the difference.”
“But there is a difference. And now you want to go be a sniper and shoot some who are only walking the streets.”
“That’s right. I do.”
“Because they might come up here and hurt us.”
“They did come up here to try to kill us. That’s them we burned today.” She pointed back to the road.
“Whoever they were.”
“They had to be those Payson invaders.”
“Could be.”
“Doesn’t matter. The Payson guys are still the bad guys. I get to kill bad guys.”
“Three months ago, that wasn’t how it was. You never thought of killing anyone.”
“It’s not three months ago! It’s today!” She was increasingly irritated with him. Whatever idea she’d had to have a nice moment with him, in case it was their last together, had fled. Now she just wanted to slap him.
“We had police, and juries, and judges. We didn’t kill a guy because he tried to rob us.”
“Arch did.”
“I know. And that was wrong. He could have held onto the guy and called the sheriff. I always thought it was wrong, that first one. I’ve had some bad nights over it and that little girl, wondering what happened to her.”
“What about the next time? And the next? The guy who killed Bodhi? He would have raped me had Curt not been there. Was I wrong to shoot him?”
“I don’t know. Did you shoot him out of self-defense, or out of revenge?”
“Why are you making me the bad guy in all this? I sit at home, trying to live my life, such as it is, and people come here and try to kill me. I shoot back. How does that make me bad?”
“I don’t think you’re bad.”
“You’re sure talking like it.”
“I’m just sad, sweetheart. The person you’re becoming, she’s so hard-hearted.”
“I am not! I am perfectly capable of love. I was just nice to Dev not fifteen minutes ago.”
