Chapter 10 – Dinner in the Trash...
“I hope we find whatever it is we’re looking for soon,” Brandon’s eyes gauged the length of their shadows. “Nightfall is almost here, and I hate moving through the yard when the hanging dust blocks so much of the moonlight.”
They shared a dinner of peanut butter sandwiches on the move to take advantage of the remaining sunlight. Brandon wished he could move more quickly, but he already felt the sting of many cuts to his forearms as he escorted Mercy through the maze. Already, the shadows ahead of them often forced Brandon to reach out tentatively with a finger. He shortened his steps and ignored his impatience so that Mercy would not have to shed much blood.
Mercy clung to Brandon’s back, clutching his hand so forcefully that she made Brandon’s fingers numb. The world turned quiet as they drifted deeper into the piles. The truck horns did not reach them. They heard not a rumble of machinery. The wind whistled through the turns. The salvage popped and cracked as weight shifted as the humidity retreated and the temperature cooled.
They found themselves deep into the yard upon the fall of night. The shadows of teetering piles consumed what ground lay uncovered by debris. Brandon’s steps slowed until they stopped. Mercy looked at him with worry creasing her brow.
“I don’t dare go any further,” Brandon’s hand returned Mercy’s strong grip.
Mercy inhaled a breath. “Can we make it back to the campers in the dark?”
“I don’t think so,” Brandon swallowed his fear. “It took us all day to get this far, and backtracking only takes longer.”
Mercy was surprised that she did not feel more fear. She had felt the bites of cuts throughout the day. She had become lost in a world of shadows cast by the outside world’s disregard. But her skin felt cool without the sun no matter the irritation of scrapes. She had discovered her dinner of peanut butter and bread to be delicious. She had counted so many treasures stacked so high around her. She had found, no matter if a pile of gold waited for them in the yard’s middle, a place to which all of her family belongings had been sentenced. She almost felt at home.
“Well, Brandon Tuggle, that decides it,” Mercy smiled, and Brandon was thankful for it. “We’re just going to have to wrap this big awning we’ve been using as our map all around us like a blanket and let the orange lines smudge however they might. I’m not afraid of getting a little dust on me before morning comes back around.”
Brandon uneasily shifted on his feet.
“You surprise me,” Mercy pinched Brandon. “Don’t tell me you afraid to set camp with a girl like me. I certainly don’t bite like all this salvage. And it’s your home, not mine. I don’t know why you should be the one so worried.”
Brandon whispered. “I don’t trust my dreams in the middle of the yard. I sleepwalk. What if I sleepwalk so deep in the salvage and cut myself so bad that I bleed to death? What if I shuffle away and leave us both lost in this maze? I’m frightened where my dreams will lead me in such a sharp place.”
Mercy leaned forward and kissed Brandon’s scarred lips, stilling the shakes of her trembling companion.
“Don’t you worry about going anywhere,” Mercy took a small step back and smiled. “I’m going to hold you down any time I feel you stirring. You’ve kept me out of these piles all day. It’s time you let me return the favor.
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Glorious Gardens of Teetering Rust Page 11
