The Magic: Wilds Book Four

by Donna Augustine

If this were a normal child, I wouldn’t have been spooked by the need for privacy. But Tiffy wasn’t normal, and held some doozies under her cap.

  “Do you ever feel like maybe you aren’t you?”

  “Like, you’re out of sorts and sad?” I asked.

  “Yeah, more often than I’d like to admit lately.” Then there were the times I was in bed with Dax and I didn’t even know my name, but I didn’t need to know about that.

  “No. Like, you really aren’t you.”

  I kept my butt glued to the bench, even as I started getting a feeling of unease. She’s just a little girl, I reminded myself, but damn did she know how to give a good case of the heebie-jeebies. “Then who are you?” I asked, trying to think this out like the calm, rational adult I pretended to be—even if I typically failed at it.

  “That’s the thing. I’m not sure. But sometimes I think it’s someone much different,” she said, her voice getting a little creepy.

  She’s a kid, just a confused, little kid growing up in the Wilds. That’s all. No reason to run screaming from her, even when she was staring at me the way she was, a weird glint in her eye. “Tiffy, you’re very young. It takes a long time to really know who you are. Some people live their whole lives without knowing who they are.”

  Her red curls bobbed as she shook her head. “I don’t know, Dal. Sometimes I think this might run a bit deeper than your average psychosis.”

  Psychosis was a Bookie word if I’d ever heard one. “I thought you hadn’t talked to Bookie about this?”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t try to talk to him. I didn’t agree with him, though.” She leaned in close and whispered, “For someone who died, he’s got some blinders on him.”

  “Bookie didn’t die.” I tried to infuse my whisper with as much authority as possible, but whispers didn’t tend to lend themselves to no nonsense.

  “Sure he didn’t.”

  When had her deadpan delivery started to eclipse mine? What the hell? She’s four!

  She patted my leg. “But let’s forget about Bookie for now—he at least knows who he is, which is more than I can say for myself. I’m not sure what’s wrong, but I feel it deep inside. Something’s not right, Dal.”

  How many times had I thought that exact thing? Yet here I was trying to downplay her own suspicions. I kept a smile on my face as I eyed her up in my periphery while I ate the jerky I’d put in my pocket for later, as if my appetite hadn’t just been swallowed by a black hole.

  People thought there was something wrong with me too, though. Maybe wrong wasn’t the right term, but I was different. Tiffy knew I was different and accepted me anyway.

  I hitched a heel on the bench. I used my bent knee as an armrest as I came to a determination. “Tiffy, if there is something wrong with you then we’ll fix it.”

  “We?” she asked. Sometimes I forgot that Fudge wasn’t Tiffy’s mother and she was an orphan at heart, just like most of us were now. Until she said “we” in that way only someone who’d really felt alone could.

  “All of us, together. Me and you, Fudge, Dax, Bookie, and Tank—we’ll all stick by you.”

  “You promise?” She grabbed my arm with her small hand, and the child was back.

  I placed a palm over my heart. “I swear on my life, I will not abandon you.”

  “You swear, like really super swear, no matter what?” She was gripping me hard, and I felt her desperation in her strength. “Because you’ve left before.”

  This was why I was only pretending to be an adult. A real adult would’ve thought about what she was saying. She wouldn’t have made a promise to a child before she thought about whether she could keep it. But I had, so now what?

  “I’ll do the best I can.”

  “No, you said you wouldn’t. You’re already changing your mind!”

  “How about this? I will do whatever is in my power to be there for you. I will not voluntarily leave you.”

  Her grip relaxed and she nodded, even calmed down enough to lean back on the bench. I hoped if there was something wrong, I’d be able to keep my promise to her.

  I never realized why adults pretended everything was okay to kids until I saw her face today. I smiled as if there were nothing to be worried about, and hoped I was right. I forced myself to ruffle her hair, as if to say, See? It’s all good.

  I didn’t move for a bit as I sat there wondering how I was going to make anything okay. I didn’t know what was wrong with Tiffy, and I didn’t know what Zarrod wanted, only that it was angering the Wood Mist for some unknown reason. And for some reason I felt like I should know.

  “Why are you staring at the sky like that?” Tiffy asked.

  “I was thinking about a dream I had. Made me think about the stars.”

  She stared up at the sky with me. “But you can’t even see them right now.”

  “Yeah, I know. But I think they’re trying to tell me something.”

  “That’s weird, but not as weird as what some of the people around here think you do.”

  “What do they think I do?” I asked, forgetting about the dream.

  “I’m not sure I should tell you.”

  I didn’t say anything else as she sat there, taking her time to decide. But if she thought I was going to let her not tell me now, the kid really was crazy. I was twice her size and I’d sit on her if needed.

  Chapter 17

  I stepped into the dining area. It was 7:30 in the morning and a line had already formed that reached halfway into the living room. I took a couple of rapid breaths and shook out my arms, psyching myself up. I could do this. Yes, I could.

  With fierce determination, I took the five steps necessary, and in less than ten seconds, I’d done it. I was in line. I looked around as I got comfortable in my spot. This wasn’t that bad.

  As if there were some magical, silent cue that I couldn’t hear, everyone in line turned and stared at me. “What are you looking at?” They turned around. I was in line, but I didn’t have to be happy about it.

  Every couple moments or so, I’d see someone turn their head to the side, and I knew it was because they just couldn’t help but make sure it hadn’t been a figment of their imagination that I was in line.

  Two people finished loading up their plates but there were eight people still ahead of me, and each seemed slower than the last. That was when the real truth of the situation hit. It wasn’t getting in line that was so horrific; it was waiting in line. It reminded me of the Cement Giant and being instructed as to your every movement. It felt like the farthest thing from freedom. But I was going to stick it out. I would not be responsible for the downfall of society, even this tiny corner of it.

  “I bet Dax booted her out of his bedroom,” I heard from somewhere up farther toward the buffet, and my toe started tapping on the wood floor.

  “Do you blame him? She’s so scrawny I doubt she’s very good bed sport.”

  They either didn’t care that I could hear or they were half deaf and didn’t know how obnoxiously loud they were. “Excuse me, this has nothing to do with who I’m sleeping with. And I’m not sleeping with anyone, so mind your own business.” I paused for a half a second and added, “If you shut your trap, maybe you could scoop a little quicker up there before I starve to death?”

  There was some general grumbling, but nothing I could hear well enough to call them out on. That was good enough for me, at least until I got my food.

  It didn’t take much to scare these people, even after knowing me for months. Still, I almost didn’t believe what Tiffy had told me yesterday. It was bizarre to think that there was a rumor that if they messed with me, I’d sneak into their rooms and hide my cooties there somehow. As if I could choose when I was contagious or not and could target my victims. Tiffy had thought I was going to be upset by it, but I laughed.

  I heard his steps before I saw Dax approach me. “What’s this?”

  “Oh, we’re speaking now?”

  “When were we not?”

 
; I bit my tongue. I certainly wasn’t going to tell him I thought he’d been a little short with me if he didn’t know it. Oh no. Was I becoming one of those sensitive people?

  “Why are you in line?” he asked.

  “I don’t want to be the reason civilization ends,” I said, liking the change in conversation. Had he just been busy? He had answered me while he’d been doing other things.

  It was true. I was sensitive, at least with him.

  “And you’re waiting in line why?”

  “Because it’s all connected.” I stared at the back of the man in front of me. Dax could mock all he wanted. I would not care because I wasn’t going to be that person.

  “The end of the world and the line for bacon?”

  He was smiling so widely I didn’t even have to see it. I could hear it in his voice. He could laugh if he wanted. I was doing the right thing. “Yes.”

  “Because you’ll end civilization?” he asked, as if he wasn’t quite sure he’d heard me correctly the last trillion times.

  I crossed my arms in front of my chest and tipped my chin up. “Yes.”

  “Okay then,” he said, and walked off and straight into the kitchen, probably to get some fresh bacon that had just come off the skillet. He walked out of the kitchen shortly after, and I could see the steam coming off the food on his plate.

  What did he do next? Did he go sit somewhere? No. He propped a shoulder against the kitchen doorframe as he ate while watching me in line.

  A minute later and the line still hadn’t moved, and my eyes kept going to the kitchen door. And then to Dax, who stood not far from it with an eyebrow raised, as if to say, I think you’re going to crack.

  I stood, forcing all body parts to cease any movement that might be interpreted as twitching. I could do this. It was just a line, after all. I’d stood in plenty of lines back at the Cement Giant. I’d had to. You didn’t cut the line in that place unless you wanted a bloody eye or a sore gut.

  I heard tapping and realized it was coming from my foot hitting the wooden floor. I mentally glued my sole to the wood and dared a glance over at Dax, his plate nearly empty.

  If he made that face one more time, I was either going to kill him or drag him upstairs. I needed to take emergency action, like five minutes ago.

  I coughed loudly, as if clearing my throat. I gave it a second and then made something closer to a hacking noise.

  It was like the Red Sea parting as they all scrambled back and away from me, leaving a clear line to the buffet. Of course, I walked right up to it. It wasn’t like I was cutting the line now.

  I filled my plate, trying to avoid looking at Dax’s amusement as I walked toward the back door.

  “Was that part of saving humanity, too?” he asked, as I was about to pass him and the people fell back into their place in line.

  I paused. “What am I supposed to do if I get a tickle in my throat? Am I not allowed to cough?”

  I turned to leave, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm, and I looked back to see what witty comment he needed to add. I didn’t see any amusement there.

  “You don’t have to wait in line. Fuck civilization.”

  I stared at him, glad I hadn’t shoved food in my mouth, because I might’ve choked on it.

  He stared back, but this was different than before. It was like he was sharing a secret with me, one he thought I already knew. But I didn’t. Because the only thing I’d heard from him was that he didn’t care if civilization burned to the ground as long as I was comfortable, and that couldn’t possibly be what he meant.

  He dropped his hand and walked away, and I stood there staring at his back as he strode out the front door. Sometimes, not all the time, but on rare occasions like this, I would swear on my freedom that Dax was the most perfect man ever created.

  If that had actually been what he’d just said. Which I couldn’t get confirmed without asking, and I’d rather hack up an entire lung than do that.

  I was in such a good mood that even seeing Lucy back in her spot, which was a little too close to my spot, didn’t even bug me today. Lucy wasn’t as bad I used to think. Or had I just gotten used to her? That was something to ponder over bacon…or not.

  Relaxing back on my bench with hot food, I could relax and eat breakfast in peace as I watched everyone start their day all nice and normal. They got up every day and did the same thing, not worrying about a madman sending them notice that they’d have to go back to hell.

  Alice was carrying a bucket of milk to the dairy house. Sue was talking to the butcher as they looked over the birds pecking at their feed, not worrying about anyone cutting them up in a few days. It was all so very peaceful. Bookie was standing beside a horse and talking to—

  “Who is that talking to Bookie?” I asked Lucy as I watched him with a girl I’d never seen before. Damn, I was getting to be like a true Wilds native. Never met a stranger I didn’t distrust on sight. Especially this one, with her bouncy blonde hair and happy-go-lucky smile that practically made me squint from a quarter mile away. “Lucy!” I said, getting her to pay attention.

  She looked up from her plate to locate Bookie across the lawn. “That piece of fluff? Her name’s Amelia. She came over from Seaside.”

  “I thought Seaside got wiped out by the last outbreak?” Bookie and this Amelia started to laugh as I wondered what kind of sick and twisted person could be laughing after her whole village was wiped out. “She looks a little too happy.”

  “If I were one of the few survivors, I’d be happy too.”

  “She a Plaguer?”

  “Nah. She wasn’t there when it happened. She was on a trading mission when it hit. If she’d been there, she’d be dead for sure.” Lucy pointed in their direction with her fork. “She’s one of those idiots that just seems to luck out a lot, I think. She’s not like us.”

  I had to have heard that wrong. Had Lucy just lumped me and her together, and in a way she thought was flattering? Lucy was back to eating and oblivious to the fact that I was catching flies with my mouth.

  Should I let it go? Nope. Couldn’t do it.

  “Like ‘us’ how?” I asked, trying to sound as if I were being conversational and my ears weren’t pricked up in her direction.

  She looked back over at me, tilted her head to the side, and let out a little mmmm sound, all while I feigned a patience I’d never possessed.

  “You know, we’re not pretty birds putting our colors on display and trying to find someone to care for us.” She straightened before she added, “We take care of ourselves. We do things. We hold our own.”

  “Yeah…we do,” I said, and found I was sitting up straighter as well.

  “That’s why it never would’ve worked with Becca and Dax. He needed someone like you.”

  Don’t ask. You got the answer to the other question. Don’t feed into her, or who knows what crazy rabbit hole she’ll drag you down. Don’t forget how the last time you put stock in what she said, you laid yourself out all come hither on Dax’s bed.

  I thought back to that, and in the end, she’d been right. He had wanted me. “Why do you say that?”

  “Dax is like us, as tough as they come. He needs a woman that’ll stand up to him or he gets bored. He never looked at Becca the way he looks at you. Ever. Sometimes I’d see them together. She’d be leaning over and touching his arm, whispering into his ear, and I wondered if he even knew what she was talking about.

  “Now, with you, he knows the second you’re in the room, and you’ve got his full attention even when he tries to hide it. Even when you’ve got him as furious as could be, which you do well and often, he likes that you don’t hesitate to get in his face and give it back. Not many people, let alone women, do that.”

  She waved her fork at the new girl. “Now that little piece of girly girl would fall apart after one raised voice. She’s soft. Useless except for fluffing an ego, if you ask me. But she’s probably a good match for Bookie. He needs someone that isn’t running into the t
hick of things. Then he’d have to follow after her and he’d get himself killed.”

  “Is she nice?”

  “Who knows? Who cares?”

  I cared. I watched Amelia as she laid a hand on Bookie’s arm and I saw him actually tense, like he was trying to flex for her without being obvious. No one was going to hurt Bookie while I was around. I’d kick her little fluffy ass if she did.

  Amelia walked off after too many giggles to count, and that was when I realized how the place was emptying out.

  “Where is everybody?”

  “On the fence.”

  “The fence?”

  “Yeah. Dax wants to get it as strong as possible before… Well, I don’t have to tell you,” Lucy said as she stood to bring her plate in. “If I don’t get a move on my section will never get done,” she said, and then left.

  She had a section and I didn’t even know what was happening?

  Chapter 18

  It took me two hours to find Dax along the western edge of the property. He was handing barbed wire up to one of the guys straddling the wooden fence.

  He stepped back and then turned to another guy standing nearby who normally worked guard duty. “Good work, but this part here needs to be shored up.” He pointed to a wooden plank along the bottom that looked rotted.

  The guy nodded and Dax walked over to where I was waiting, not far away.

  “Why don’t I have a section?” I said, pointing at the fence. “We need every able body on this and I didn’t even know about it.”

  He tugged my arm and pulled me farther away from where the people were working, nailing wood into places where there were gaps and attaching barbed wire along the tops.

  “Because until today, you weren’t looking that good.” He was looking at me like he was checking my vitals. Was this how I looked at Bookie?

  “As you can see, I’m fine.” I looked at the wall and did another mental count of the people we had while trying to figure out how much wall there was. I didn’t have accurate enough knowledge of either, but I went on a hunch I was right. “We don’t have enough time for anyone to not be pulling their weight. I don’t know how much time I’m going to be able to buy us.”