As we made our way around the backside of the acreage, I thought I saw movement in the woods and dropped my hand to my rifle even as I eased Archer in front of the bay mare. After a moment, I saw one of the squatters, newcomers, I corrected myself, emerge from the tree line, and approach the fence. He was armed with a shotgun but had the weapon slung over one shoulder.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“You’re Lucas, right?” the man asked, and I could only hear curiosity, not aggression, in his voice.
“Yes, sir. That’s me. This here’s Amy. We’re just riding the fence line and looking for breaks. What can I do for you?”
“Name’s Wes. I just wanted to thank you for the vitamins. My little girl has been doing poorly and we figured it was some kind of deficiency. Just can’t get a completely balanced diet off what we can scrounge up.”
Wes was a medium-sized gentleman in his early thirties with a slightly hatchet-faced appearance and long blondish sideburns. He seemed genuine in his thanks, and I decided to see if I could help a little more.
“Wes, how are you guys at collecting wild edibles?”
“Uh, pretty good. Carly is our main greens gatherer, but I don’t know if she knows all there is to know. She’s only been bringing a few different varieties, but plenty of what she does bring.”
“Fair enough. I know we have amaranth, lamb’s quarter, curly dock, and a whole bunch of other stuff in those woods. Plus the blackberries, mayhaws, pawpaws, stuff like that.”
I saw Wes duck his head, as if the information was too much to process.
“What about mushrooms?” he asked.
“Forget about mushrooms. Some are edible, some will kill you quicker than a snakebite. And telling the difference is sometimes a matter of opinion. No, I’ll tell you what. Day after tomorrow, I’ll try to set up a visit. I know most of them, and I can come meet with some of your folks that morning. Let Paul know I’ll be by just after full light. We want to be able to see what we are pulling. How’s that sound?”
“That sounds great! I know your father talked with Paul, and they’ve got some kind of labor exchange thing going. This is going to work out great!”
After we said our goodbyes to Wes, I noticed Amy was humming a little tune as we rode along parallel to the fence once again. She was also scrutinizing the strands of barbed wire with laser-like intensity. I didn’t tell her we weren’t looking for breaks in the wire; just overhanging limbs that might pose a problem down the road. This wasn’t really a chore as much as a diversion for the two of us for today, but of course I couldn’t tell her that either.
We talked the whole time, a freewheeling question-and-answer session that covered all kinds of topics. Favorite music, foods, restaurants, that sort of thing. Well, Amy had never been able to visit very many different types of ethnic restaurants, growing up where she did, and she was amazed by all the different restaurants we used to sample back when Dad was stationed at Pendleton.
I only mentioned the restaurants in passing, but the girl just started peppering me with questions. How hot is Thai food? What is Ethiopian cuisine? Do Koreans really eat cats and dogs? I answered as best I could, and Amy seemed satisfied with my responses. She shyly admitted that the only time she’d ever gotten a chance to eat Chinese food was one time when her volleyball team stopped at a buffet after a tournament. I assured her that Chinese buffets really weren’t the real thing, but still pretty close. No need to break her little heart, I figured.
After we bumped into Wes, I spent a little time explaining all of the forage foods to be found in the woods around here. That reminded me about our conversation regarding snares, and I asked Amy if she would help me construct some simple snares for the Greenville group when we got back.
“Of course. But you just remember, we aren’t eating them ourselves unless we have to, buster,” she joked with mock bluster.
“Yes dear,” I replied dryly.
Amy was about to deliver her own humorous retort when I simply pointed one gloved hand at the small pavilion laid out in front of us by the creek. We’d been riding up a small rise, so the covered picnic area, baskets, and blanket were only visible as you came up over the crest of the low hillock. Which made the area a security nightmare, but good for our purpose today.
Alex and Scott erected the pavilion cover for us, while Helena and Lori took care of the food and drinks in the insulated cooler.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” I turned to Amy and said.
At first, she just stared in stunned silence, and then the tears started. For a desperate second or two I thought I’d screwed something up, but then I saw her beaming smile under the tears and then everything was better than all right.
“I love you, Luke,” she finally managed to say, and I couldn’t help grinning like an idiot.
“And I love you, Amy. Always.”
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
We sat under the shade and ate the fried chicken until the bones were properly gnawed, and then I produced the chilled dessert dish with homemade vanilla ice cream and strawberries dipped in chocolate. Amy ate carefully, enjoying each morsel of food as if she would never again experience something so grand.
Chickens and strawberries we could do, and even ice cream as long as the power systems held out. As for the chocolate, she might have been correct. Not many cocoa trees growing in East Texas.
Tummies full, we sat facing each other on the thick blanket and simply stared in each other’s eyes for several moments. The experience was magical and I never wanted it to end.
“Why? Why did you go to all this trouble? For me?” Amy’s voice quivered, and I could still see the wonder and amazement in her lovely blue eyes.
“Well, I wish I could claim all the credit, but lots of people pitched in when I asked for their help. It’s for your birthday, you know. We just did it a day early so you would be surprised.”
Amy nodded and looked down for a moment. “Nobody has ever done anything this special for me. Not ever. Not before. And I was so ready to be mad at you this morning. This, this is too much for me.”
I parsed that out and wondered aloud. “Mad about what?”
“I know you said something to your dad. Got me taken off the regular watch and patrol schedule. I can do the work, Luke. You know I can.”
I nodded, and took her hands in mine before I replied. “I know you can, Amy. And I did go to my dad and ask. Purely selfish on my part, too. You can do it. You’ve proven yourself. Just the thought, though. It scares me so much.” I paused, gathering my thoughts.
“When I thought you were dead…you know what happened there. And now, the thought of losing you after we have come so far, that just drives me crazy.”
Lifting my left hand, Amy delivered a soft kiss to the back and mustered up a look of fierce determination. “You’re not bulletproof either, pal. And going off to check those squatters by yourself, that was just asking for trouble. You scare me, too, Luke.”
“No, honey. I was pretty sure everything would be fine. Dad and I turned that place upside down looking for anything hinky. It was kind of funny, really. There we were, tiptoeing around all those people snoring. I felt like a cat burglar come to steal the Crown Jewels or something.”
“Hinky? Is that like kinky?” Amy asked with a perfectly straight face.
“No,” I replied with a laugh. “Another one of my dad’s sayings. Like when you see something that is somehow off and your brain is warning you there’s a problem.”
“Ah, like when we rolled through Harrison. Just looking at the way some of those guards were watching us, I could tell they were having bad thoughts,” Amy said, and I instantly knew what she meant. Some of the guards were simply doing their jobs, but others, well, you could see it in the way they watched us. Those were the ones we ended up killing down the road.
“Yeah, like that. But anyway, you saw Wes. They’re all like that. Skin and bones.”
“Still, it scares me any time you go a
round strangers these days. And Luke, I was listening to the radio. I know why you gave those men the vitamins for the kids. You are still feeling bad about how you reacted to the refugees from Branson. Well, you shouldn’t.”
I nodded but did not respond otherwise. Man, this conversation was suddenly all over the map. I wondered what else Amy was thinking but had not given voice to yet.
“Seriously,” she continued, “you shouldn’t feel bad. Strangers are an automatic danger in this new world. I didn’t understand at first, but now I do. Heck, I was down there at the fence line with Ruth and all the other ladies, getting ready to ventilate that horde at the first wrong move.”
I’d never asked, but the news didn’t surprise me. The crew Glenn brought out of Branson outnumbered the Keller farmstead’s available shooters, even if most of us hadn’t been otherwise occupied. Which is a polite way of saying, out salvaging and killing more raiders. I would imagine the womenfolk at the farm were fearing the worst.
“I was a stranger to you, too, Amy, the first time we met. And that worked out okay, I guess.” I was worried where this conversation was going so I tried to lighten the mood.
“So you really think we can work with them? These new people?”
“Like I said. We didn’t find anything amiss. And the kids were skinny, but not as bad as the adults. You could tell the grown-ups were missing meals or doing without to feed the kids. That means a lot in my book. And, I saw where someone had taken the time to stitch up a little rag doll for one of the little girls. It was only a small detail, but it seemed to be a good sign. They are starving, like hardly any food in the house, and someone took the time to make something like that. That’s love. So we will help them if we can, yes.
“And I think Mr. Sandifer seems legit, you know? I’m sure he’s had to fight and kill to get here, just like we did, but I didn’t share any details of our journey. Still too soon.”
“Well, I’m glad we have neighbors we can work with in the area. Is your dad still planning to go and see some of the others?”
“That’s what he said. Once they get Mr. Williams’s stuff moved. He’s got a real blacksmith shop there. Including literally two tons of coal for his work. That’s what most folks are working on getting transported today. And the ones not doing that helped get this little private party together.”
Amy snuggled her head into my chest after I spoke, as if to remind me how special she was feeling. How loved. “You were never a stranger to me, Luke. The first time I laid eyes on you, I knew you were someone special. And not just for what you did for me. But how you looked at me that night.”
I felt my face redden at her reminder and I looked down into Amy’s watchful gaze. She had a sad little smile on her lips as I struggled to speak. “I tried not to look, Amy. You were naked and scared. The last thing you needed was another asshole guy leering at you.”
“Leering? No.” As she spoke, a small tender smile crept across her lips. “I caught you taking a peek, Luke. But you were different. Not looking at me as a piece of meat or a possession. You saw me, but not as something spoiled or wrong.”
I felt emotion rise again as I thought about that night. About being driven indoors by the rain. And I thought about how lucky I was to have picked that house out of all the places to seek shelter in the area.
“What was done to you, Amy, that wasn’t your doing. I still wish I’d had time to go over and put a bullet in that uncle of yours.” I hissed the last words, like a curse under my breath.
“What I said to your mom, Luke, about you saving my life? It was true. They’d taken girls before and the girls never came back. And my uncle, my own flesh and blood, sold me off to them for a bag of food. And Luke, there’s more. I have to tell you.”
I placed my fingers to Amy’s lips, not wanting her to say the words. I didn’t want her to say it. I had an idea about what she was going to say, but I didn’t need to hear it. Bits and pieces of conversations over the weeks and months told me all I needed to know. Now I didn’t want to hear the story. Not for any effect on me, but because of how she might feel later if she regretted telling me.
“I know, sweetheart, I know,” I whispered, and I saw the tears in her eyes.
“I have to tell you this, Luke. I can’t think about spending our lives together if I’m not honest with you. Just this once, I will tell you, okay?”
I could see the hurt in her eyes, and the doubts for her were beginning to grow. Basic difference between men and women, I decided, and I nodded.
“Amy, I don’t need to know, but I can see you need to tell me. I will listen, and I won’t judge. I love you, everything about you, and whatever you say won’t change that fact.”
That seemed to help Amy with some internal struggle, and so she began to tell her story.
“That wasn’t the first time my uncle did that. Selling me for food. When I showed up at his house, my uncle wasn’t thrilled to see me, but I literally had nowhere else to go. After my parents were killed, there was no other family left. So he let me stay but made it clear what he expected. I had to pull my own weight. At least, I thought I understood.
“I hunted and trapped, like you did, but maybe not so successfully. And Uncle…I am not going to say his name. He is dead and he is going to stay that way,” Amy began, and muttered this last part to herself.
“Anyway,” she started again, “my uncle was always complaining about not having enough food. Not enough to help me, or to weed the garden, or haul water from the creek. I brought in enough to keep us fed, or at least alive, but that wasn’t enough.
“So one day, I came in from working in the garden and my uncle is there with this sleazebag from the neighborhood. He was always trying to get me to talk to him, but the way he looked at me was just wrong. He scared me. I was right to think that. Before I could say anything, he looked at me. And I just knew. I turned to run, but he was all over me before I reached the door. Punched me in the jaw and drug me kicking and screaming into my bedroom and…you know.”
There was silence in the clearing as sobs ran through Amy’s body. Great, wracking things that made me feel helpless and unworthy. This wasn’t about me though. I kept telling myself this as I held Amy close and stroked her hair. After a few minutes, she seemed to gather her composure and continued her story.
“That was the only time. I stayed in my room for three days afterwards, and when I came out, my uncle was all apologies and explanations. But I saw the bag of cans on the table that day and I knew what happened. So I pretended like I believed him. Then, that night, I caught him asleep and woke him up with a butcher knife across his windpipe. I explained how that wasn’t ever going to happen again, or I would cut off parts he probably wasn’t willing to lose.”
At that, Amy gave a sharp little laugh at the memory. “He really was a sorry human being. All strut, no guts. Everything was okay for the next few weeks, until that gang moved into the area and started taking everything. If the neighborhood would have just worked together, they could have easily driven those men out of the area. But none of those jerks would agree to work with their neighbors long enough to get the job done.
“My uncle was scared of me by this time, but he was more scared of the three men who showed up at his door. He tried to bargain with them, selling me off again, but it didn’t do him any good. I was in my bedroom, climbing out the window when they barged in, grabbed me by the legs, and started stripping off my clothes. I started screaming, and they started hitting me, trying to make me shut up. We had neighbors still living on both sides of us and I was hoping, praying that someone would come to help. No one did, but they drug me out of the house and down the street anyway. To one of the abandoned homes with no one around to bother them. As the biggest one carried me out the door, I happened to look down and see my uncle. He’d been beaten and stabbed, and I could tell he wasn’t going to be getting up. They joked that he dropped his price once he saw the color of his own blood.”
“And that’s when I
met you,” I said, leaning down and delivering a light kiss to Amy’s forehead, right next to the small bandage that still covered her wound.
“And that’s when I met you,” she echoed.
I’d never heard Amy speak this much before in all our time together, and I knew this was like lancing a boil for her. Letting the poison out before the toxins killed her. I was a boy, and we generally hid or buried our emotions. That was what we learned from a young age. Amy, of course, was different. She needed to unburden herself. I knew this instinctively, but not intellectually. In many ways, girls remained a mystery to me. But not Amy.
“All of that is in the past,” I whispered again. “I would change it if I could, but I can’t. If I could, I would go back in time and kill those men all over, but do it much, much slower.”
Amy sighed, no longer shocked at the bloodthirsty beast that lived under my skin. She knew. I wasn’t some rampaging serial killer, but if the right circumstances presented themselves, I could commit acts of mayhem and malice without pause or compassion, and I was getting better at it. But I would never knowingly hurt her or anyone else I loved.
“Are you…You knew what I was going to say, didn’t you?” Amy asked. “You really knew, all this time.”
“I figured most of it, yeah. I care about what happened to you, Amy, but only in how it will affect you in the future. Our future. I love you. That’s the beginning and the end for me. What I’m trying to say is, I wish I could make all the ugliness you’ve experienced go away. I can’t do it. But I can tell you right now that nothing you’ve said, and nothing you could have said, would change the way I feel about you.”
Amy seemed to be studying my expression, my face, with her eyes just inches from my own. “You don’t think I’m…that there’s something wrong with me? Now that you know, are still certain that you can stand to be with me?”
Her tentative words made me fight back my own tears. This was the secret Amy thought she’d been keeping from me. I suspected the truth but never broached the subject with her out of respect for her privacy.
Walking in the Rain (Book 4): Dark Sky Thunder Page 11
