Dread Nation

by Justina Ireland

  I freeze, every muscle in my body tensing. My back tingles with phantom pains as I remember the kiss of the whip along it, and I know that this time there’s no way there will be mercy. Not for me, or Katherine, either.

  “Kate!” I whisper-yell, as loud as I dare. The boot steps are getting closer, deliberate in their plodding pace. In just a few seconds someone is going to walk in on us, catch us red-handed in our snooping.

  Katherine comes out of the room, irritation on her face. “Jane, I found the most interesting map—” She stops talking. “Someone’s coming.”

  “Yep. Now stand there and look out of sorts. Shouldn’t be too hard for you.” I pluck a pearl hairpin from her hair and fall to my knees, crawling around the floor.

  Behind me the door opens, and the person stops short in the doorway. My heart pounds in my chest, loud enough that I’m sure our unexpected guest can hear it. Katherine inhales sharply, and my stomach just about falls out, every last drop of dread and fear settling right where it used to be.

  “Well, if that ain’t a sight for sore eyes I don’t know what is.”

  I close my eyes and start to pray, because there is no way I am hearing what I think I hear.

  Either Red Jack is behind me scandalously taking stock of my derriere, or I have finally lost my mind.

  Some nights I lie in my bed and wonder if it was all a dream, if I really ever had a beloved baby girl. But then I remember your smile, and I know that the good parts truly happened, and that one day we shall read Shakespeare together again.

  Chapter 30

  In Which I Get a Visit from the Dead

  The voice cuts through my burgeoning terror and sends me springing to my feet. I turn around, heart beating out a staccato rhythm against my ribs—not from fright, but from a wild kind of hope that I ain’t never felt before. There, standing in the doorway, grinning like the cat that got into the cream, is Jackson.

  Before my good sense can get a word in edgewise I’m running across the room, throwing my arms around him in an embrace to beat all embraces. He laughs and picks me up, swinging me in a circle. When he sets me down he leans in and steals a quick kiss, and I’m just as quick to slap him.

  “Just because I’m happy you ain’t dead doesn’t mean you get to kiss me.”

  “Ah, Janey-Jane. When have I ever passed up the opportunity to steal a little sugar?”

  Jackson moves over to Katherine and bows over her hand like a true swain, murmuring pleasantries. I close the door to make sure we don’t have any more guests, then I turn to Jackson, arms crossed.

  “So you ain’t dead.”

  He grins, a full on Red Jack smile. “Nope. Your friend made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

  “Oh?”

  Jackson nods, propping up a hip on the corner of the desk. “Seems that Daniel Redfern ain’t the loyal follower of the mayor that he pretends to be. After you two went off, the sheriff told Daniel to take me out back and put me down like a rabid dog. Lucky for me, Daniel handed me a knife and a canteen, led me to a side of the town’s boundary that is a bit lighter on shamblers, and told me to walk north for two days. I did and ended up in Nicodemus, a town founded by a bunch of Egalitarians.”

  “Wait, hold on a minute now. Mr. Redfern helped you? And there are Egalitarians here?” I’m trying to put Jackson’s words into the context of what I’ve learned over the past few weeks and I’m failing miserably.

  Jackson nods and shifts his weight. “Yep. Daniel ain’t a murderer like the rest of these folks, he’s just a man trying to play the hand that life dealt him.”

  Katherine’s eyes go wide. “Well, there you go! We just have to get them to help us get rid of the sheriff and his father.”

  Jackson shakes his head. “The Egalitarians got no interest in interfering with Summerland. They’re happy to give any of us refuge, but don’t expect them to take part in any sort of fight. They’re pacifists.”

  I shake my head sadly. “Well, so much for that idea. So, if you’re all cozy in the next town over, what are you doing here?”

  “Stealing some bullets. Pacifists apparently don’t own guns and are terrifyingly light on ammunition. And searching for Lily. I didn’t want to risk being seen again for fear of dooming both me and Daniel, and I was only barely able to climb over the wall between patrols and keep my head down as I made my way to town, terrified I’d be recognized. But if she’s here, I need to find her.”

  He stands up and stretches, and I watch him greedily. I feel like I can’t get enough of looking at him, of knowing that he’s alive and still out there, up to no good. I turn as I feel Katherine’s gaze land on me. She’s giving me a look like she’s seeing something for the first time, and I school my expression to blankness, worried that I somehow gave too much away.

  “She’s safe,” I say finally. “Lily. She’s over in the fancy part of town. I talked to her the other night, before things went south.”

  Jackson grins. “Lily’s alive? Ha, I knew it!” He pauses and the smile melts into a frown. “Wait, what do you mean ‘went south’?”

  I quickly outline what’s happened to me and Katherine since we arrived in Summerland. Jackson’s expression darkens.

  “That bastard deserves to die.”

  I shrug. “No doubt. The question is: How?”

  Red Jack shrugs. “Not sure. My plan after finding Lily was to make a run for the Mississippi River before it freezes, head south to New Orleans. Ain’t no way I’m going back east, and I’ve heard rumors that city has been fortified. Strong walls, with its back against the water. But there’s no way we can get there without supplies, and those Nicodemus folks ration everything carefully.”

  “Same here,” Katherine says.

  He nods, opening his mouth to answer when the sound of footsteps outside interrupt him.

  “Look, I’ll talk to Daniel and Amelia and get back to you two,” Jackson says.

  “Amelia? You mean Miss Duncan is here?”

  “Yes, she and a bunch of the girls from your school. They came to Nicodemus when Baltimore County was overrun.”

  His words send a cold shock through me, and I tense. “Overrun? By shamblers? When did that happen? Did everyone get out? How come you’re just now mentioning this?” I think of little Ruthie and Big Sue, and dread is a cold hard lump in my middle.

  “Not now, Jane!” Katherine admonishes. “We need to get out and waylay whoever is heading this way so Jackson can get what he needs.”

  Jackson gives Katherine a smile of thanks and an ugly feeling rises up in me, part jealousy and part shame and part anger at myself for getting just a tad bit hysterical. But what do they expect? I swallow my aggravation and open the door for Katherine while Jackson ducks into the small room.

  Katherine sweeps out of the office like a queen leaving court. I follow behind her, carefully closing the door as she exclaims, “Oh, my apologies! Pastor, I did not see you!”

  The preacher stands there, his rheumy brown eyes locked on Katherine’s bosom and a smile that borders on indecent on his thin, pink lips.

  “Oh, Miss Deveraux, what a pleasant surprise.”

  Katherine gives the man a small smile and takes a mincing step back, putting a few additional inches between her and the holy man. “It is lovely to see you as well. Why, I was just telling my girl that she missed a very moving discussion on moral responsibility at our last Bible study.”

  The man gives me a condescending look, the smile on his lips not reflected in his eyes.

  “Yes, she could use the message of the Lord more than most here. Well, I won’t hold you up, I just came by to drop off some information for Sheriff Snyder.”

  “Oh, he isn’t there. He was called off on some urgent business.”

  “Well, if the sheriff isn’t there, then what exactly were you doing in the office?” The preacher gives Katherine a long look, and for a moment I think that she’s done it, going and running her mouth when she should’ve just bid the man good day and carried on
about her business.

  “Oh, I had sent my girl in to find my pearl hairpin, and was just fetching her. I’m afraid sometimes even the smallest task is beyond poor Jane.” She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “You know how easily they’re distracted.”

  The suspicious look disappears from the man’s eyes and he gives Katherine a warm smile. “My dear, the penitent show understanding to all those beneath them, no matter their flaws. Was she able to find your hairpin?”

  From inside of the office comes the faint sound of footsteps, and Katherine tenses. But the preacher doesn’t hear them, most likely thanks to his advanced age and his single-minded focus on the stretch of material covering her bosoms.

  She flashes the man a brilliant smile. “Yes, thank goodness. I have so few nice things, and if it wasn’t for the message of the Lord I’m certain my strength would have fled me long ago. Just to keep living every day . . .” Katherine closes her eyes for a moment, as though the struggle causes her physical pain. When she opens her eyes they shine with emotion. “I know this is just the Lord testing me, and I know that I will survive it with his grace and love. But, Pastor, it has been a very difficult journey, and I am afraid that I have doubted my place in the Lord’s heart at times.” She sniffs, not too much, just like she’s fighting back tears. “I was beginning to lose my faith, but your words last Sunday and the charity of this magnificent town have restored my belief that the Lord has a plan for me, and it is majestic.”

  I fight to keep my mouth from falling open. She’s good. Katherine’s ability to play the farce rivals my own. The preacher is rapt with attention as Katherine begins spinning out a tale of woe and misery so pitiful that it belongs in a weekly serial.

  By the time Katherine finishes detailing the viciousness of her nonexistent stepmother and the death of her father, the preacher is near to tears himself. It sickens me to think that such an evil man can feel pity.

  “Oh, you poor child. The Lord has blessed you with so many charms that you must believe that He loves you, and has a plan, and a fine husband, in store for you.”

  “Oh, I do, Pastor, I do.” Katherine shakes herself, and she forces a polite smile. “Well, I’m afraid I must be going. Now that I have my Negro back, she needs to get everything put to rights.” We’ve been stalling on the boardwalk for nearly a quarter of an hour. If Jackson is still poking around for whatever he needs from the sheriff’s office, he’s on his own.

  “Indeed, Miss Deveraux. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

  Katherine gives him a small curtsy before setting off across the dusty road. I scurry along behind her, and once we’re clear of the preacher Katherine mutters, “What an odious man.”

  “That was quite impressive,” I murmur.

  Katherine snorts in a way that is not at all ladylike. “What did you expect, Jane? I grew up in a whorehouse. If there’s anyone who knows how to put on an act, it is a woman dependent upon the appetites of men for her living.” There’s a sharp tone to her voice, a reminder that she’s playing this role because I asked it of her, not because she wanted to.

  I consider Katherine’s words the rest of the way to the better side of town.

  Perhaps I don’t know her as well as I think I do.

  Jane, I am glad to hear that you have ever so many companions with whom to while away the hours. There is no greater gift than the gift of friendship. Just make sure that those you give it to are deserving of such a fine thing.

  Chapter 31

  In Which I Have a Heartfelt Conversation

  After a silent walk down the dirt road to the proper side of town, Katherine and I end up in front of the house where she’s been staying since she arrived in Summerland, right next door to Lily and the Spencers. Lily and a small boy play in their front yard, and even though our eyes meet neither of us acknowledges the other. Lily knows how to play the long con; her brother’s made sure of that.

  Katherine’s house is downright luxurious, particularly when compared to the squalor I’ve gotten used to. The door opens onto a nicely appointed sitting room, the small windows opened to catch any bit of a breeze. Oriental rugs cover the wood plank floors. In the bedroom to the rear there is a sumptuous feather bed for Katherine and a relatively clean cot has been brought in for me. The bowl and pitcher on the dressing table are real china, nicer than most anything else in Summerland, and there are several lovely dresses hanging in a wardrobe for Katherine, as well as a lady’s dressing gown.

  The kitchen has no stove but it does have a large sink with a pump, just like the tub and cistern the Duchess showed me back at the cathouse. The sitting room has a hearth and a modest stack of something that looks to be dried dung. I decide that I’m glad for the warm weather. On the end table is a jar of peaches and a simple note from Mr. Gideon: “Please enjoy this modest gift.”

  The sight of those peaches causes a warm feeling to spread through my middle. I ain’t seen the tinkerer since the day of my whipping, and I owe him a hearty thanks. Without his salve my back would still be a ruined mess, and I don’t think it’s a great leap of reasoning to think that I owe him my life.

  As soon as we close the door Katherine sighs and her shoulders slump. “Would you please help me get out of this thing?” she asks, all traces of haughtiness gone.

  I walk over and begin to unfasten the row of tiny buttons along the back, slipping it over her head once it’s loose enough. I follow her into the back bedroom, hanging the dress up on one of the wooden hangers in the wardrobe as Katherine pulls the lacing to remove her corset, donning the dressing gown, a bright silk garment that features embroidered dragons along the front.

  I bend down and pick up the corset, a smile finding its way to my lips. “Did you get that robe from one of the Duchess’s girls?”

  Katherine gives me a glare that would stop my heart if looks could kill. “No. The sheriff gave it to me as a gift. Said he got this from a Chinese man that used to live here.”

  My stomach drops as I remember the Duchess’s comment about the lack of Chinese in Summerland. What happened to the man who had originally owned that robe? Nothing good. I read an article entitled “The Great Yellow Menace” in which the author went to great lengths to malign the Chinese immigrants out west in California, who apparently charge very steep rates to protect folks from shamblers. I’d only read the article because I’d thought it was about shamblers, not immigration. It seems strange that in these very fraught times folks would be more concerned about hardworking people trying to find a better life than the monsters that actually want to eat them.

  Katherine heaves a sigh and doesn’t speak again, and I perch next to her on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

  She shakes her head and looks down at her lap, not saying a word. I wait, and after a moment she begins crying—soft, ladylike tears that make her eyes pretty and bright. Somehow I envy her and pity her at the same time.

  “Katherine—” I begin, but I don’t get much more than her name out before she cuts me off.

  “Do you know what it’s like to have every man in this miserable town panting after you like a rabid dog? Do you know what it’s like to have to spend weeks pretending to be like the rest of them, to say such despicable things about yourself, to laugh at jokes that cut like rusty knives?” She keeps her voice low but the emotion is still clear.

  I shake my head, as Katherine ain’t really looking for a conversation.

  “I hate this. I hate pretending to be white, to be like most of the folks in this town. I hate the way they think. And I hate knowing that my face is worth more than all the rest of me.”

  “Well, maybe not all of the rest of you,” I mutter, but Katherine doesn’t hear me.

  “Do you know what Miss Anderson told me before we got in the train car to come here? ‘I wish you weren’t so pretty, Katherine. Maybe then someone would’ve taken you on and you would’ve had a chance at a future.’ I had a chance, Jane, but because of my damned face, no one would take me on as an Attendant. I was fi
rst in our class.”

  “Well, only because I’m terrible with a rifle. Besides, we still had final evaluations to go through, and my rifle work has greatly improved—”

  “Jane, please, shut up. Don’t you get it? No white woman would have taken me on as Attendant because of my stupid face, and colored girls don’t like me because I’m too light by half. My future, if we ever get out of this miserable patch of dirt, is to belong to some man, just like my momma did. I left Virginia to escape that fate, yet it seems to have found me anyway.”

  I laugh softly, and shake my head. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?” She looks at me and I smile. “You’re passing fair, Kate. No one in this town doubts that you’re white. That’s your future. Your manners are pretty enough that everyone believes you’re from a fine family, without a moment’s hesitation. You could make your way to a nice place, marry some fine man and become respectable, set up housekeeping and have fancy dinner parties that would put the mayor’s to shame.”

  Katherine sniffs. “But don’t you see, Jane? That’s exactly what I don’t want. I don’t want to live the rest of my life as a liar. To turn my back on my own people. And I definitely don’t want to be someone’s wife. I don’t want a man.”

  I shift uncomfortably next to her. “Is this your way of telling me you fancy women?” Not that I mind that. I’ve been distracted by a pretty face every now and again myself. But trying to imagine Katherine pledging herself to a life as a spinster doesn’t quite fit.

  Katherine jumps to her feet and begins to pace. “No! I don’t fancy anyone. I’ve seen the way you look at Mr. Gideon and I’ve seen the way you look at Jackson. I’ve even seen the way you used to look at Merry Alfred when she was at Miss Preston’s.”

  My face heats. “Well, Merry was very pretty and she had that amazing right hook.” Merry was also a very good kisser, taught me everything I know, but Katherine doesn’t need to hear about that.