“Oh, honey,” Clay sighed, drawing Maia in for a side-hug as they walked from Alayna’s house. “Things just keep changing, don’t they?”
“For the better, I think,” Maia said. “We’ve grown in population by fifty since last week, Hank was telling me. And even Samantha hasn’t left yet. Brandon was sure she’d hit the road the minute we got into Helen. That she was meant for other things. But she—well. You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, haven’t you?” She smirked.
Clay had. Something about the drama, the anger that had existed between him and Sam had brought them close. She often popped by with a six-pack on her way to her house, just over the field from Clay’s, and they would stay up late, talking about their past lives. About the world they wanted to build. Clay had been surprised to discover that Sam had any optimism in her at all—knowing only the cold, hardened and pessimistic Sam from before. But now she was letting her hair grow long, hanging in curls on her shoulders. She wore dresses, sometimes. And once, Clay had caught her talking with Alayna about the baby in excited whispers.
“Sam is—well. She’s a good person to have around,” Clay heard himself say. His heart bumped in his chest, showing he had a few more opinions about that than he really wanted to let on.
“Dad, it’s Samantha,” Maia said, giving him a sneaky look. “She told me she’s always preferred Samantha. Even Quintin has started calling her that. And you know, he’s like her brother.”
“Right. Well, I suppose I should make the switch—”
“You really should. Because Samantha is part of her new life.”
They got to the café and Clay peered in, seeing Lois and Lane at a table together, sipping coffee and discussing something stretched out on the table between them. He knew they weren’t getting closer to a cure, but Lane, Jacobs, and Marcia were hunting for one, every single day. To their right, Rex was alone, reading a book (turned out he was particularly keen on paperback romances) and sunk a fork into a piece of pie. Hank manned the register, underneath a large framed photo of Walt he found when Jacobs got them back on the internet. He adjusted the frame, the memory of his best friend coloring the moment.
“Dad, do you think you can be part of this new life?” Maia asked him. “Build something new? Maybe even … fall in love?”
Clay turned his eyes toward the fields, at the edge of the town. He thought back to Ralph, who’d breathed his last breath just a block away. He remembered those lost days at the hotel, the ones camping in the mountains, the many, seemingly endless days on the road. And he shook his head, incredulous that something, God or another higher power, had kept him alive through all of it.
He was allowed another chance.
“I’ll miss your mom forever, you know that?” Clay asked his daughter, his heart finally light.
“Me too,” Maia whispered.”
“But in the last few months, I’ve realized that I’m ready to build something else,” Clay told her, surprising even himself. “A life with you. A life being an uncle to Alayna and Megan’s baby. A life maybe … maybe with Samantha.” He shrugged. “But at the end of the day, it’s a life. And I’m grateful to have it.”
Maia kissed Clay on the cheek, darted into the cafe and wrapped an apron around her waist. As she tied it, Clay turned his attention back to the field—and saw three of the crazed scurry past, just outside the town. They’d learned where the barriers were—and if they crossed them, they’d be killed.
Now they were like deer. A part of the natural world. One Clay’s crew would have to live alongside, perhaps forever. The Earth had tilted. And Clay had shifted along with it, like any survivor must.
Dear Reader
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Humanity's Edge- The Complete Trilogy Page 60
