by Susan Kim
“What you got there?” he said, scaring Lewt half to death.
“Nothing,” Lewt answered, his mouth full.
“You ain’t got nothing—you got food!” Tahlik had yelled.
In retrospect, Lewt had stabbed him more to shut him up than anything else. It hadn’t been easy, either: Although wiry, Tahlik had more strength in his skinny frame than Lewt had imagined, and the blade was dull. He ended up smashing him with a rock, as well, just to make sure. The next day, he made a point of sharpening his knife, rubbing it back and forth against a brick wall until it was as good as new.
And then there had been Rafe.
Lewt knew that the boy didn’t have a clue where Mundreel lay; he couldn’t read the maps they’d taken and eventually used them to start fires. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Rafe couldn’t even do what he’d promised: He pulled Lewt’s wagon too slowly and tired too easily. What was more, he couldn’t cook: his beans were inedible and his coffee a black, soupy mess.
Lewt had been saving his ammunition; there were only a few bullets left and he didn’t want to waste them. So he waited until Rafe was asleep, then took care of the problem with a single shot.
Leaving the note had been an impulse. Lewt seriously doubted if anyone had been following them; he assumed that the people of Prin, as helpless and stupid as a herd of mice, had all perished long ago. Yet there was no harm leaving a warning just in case he was wrong. He had a flickering sense that if there were to be any repercussions, it would be because of the other boy he had killed.
Caleb. That was what Esther had called him.
He could see her face now, swimming before him in the hazy night air. She was pretty in the way he liked, dark-eyed and watchful, and feisty, too. In a moment, it was as if she was standing before him on the dark and silent highway. He reached for her, his hands closing on empty air, and he stumbled hard, nearly falling. His hunger was so bad, he was getting light-headed.
Lewt had run into other travelers since that first band and robbed them as well, waving his gun. But how many times could he get away with doing that? How long could one man survive, alone on this road? He felt panic gripping him.
Where was this place Mundreel everyone talked about, anyway? Did it even exist?
Then he smelled something.
Lewt stopped. He raised his nose and sniffed at the still winter air, like an animal. There was no doubt in his mind. Unless he’d gone crazy, someone not too far away was roasting meat.
A smile fell upon his burned and wasted face.
He was going to survive, after all.
As moonlight streamed down through the cracked skylight far overhead, Esther lay on her back, wide awake.
Wretched, she readjusted her blanket and turned on her side. But as exhausted as she was, her mind whirred with a constant chatter of thoughts and questions.
If Aras was correct, they would be in Mundreel in a day or so. But now that they were so close, she wondered for the first time about the fantastical tales of endless food and clean water that they had recited like prayers, the stories that kept them going.
What if they weren’t true? What would they do then?
Around her in the cavernous space were the still forms of Joseph and Silas. Eli and Asha slept together, as did Skar and Michal. As if he could read her thoughts, Kai now frowned in his sleep and began to thrash his arms and legs.
She wondered what babies dreamed about. Did they dream of their mothers, as she herself had done? As the boy began to whimper, she made a quick decision. She would take him for a walk before he woke anyone else up. That way, she would soothe his fears and perhaps calm her own worries, as well.
The night sky was dark and overcast; occasionally, the clouds would part, allowing moonlight to stream down, pure and white. Esther paced up and down the cracked sidewalk that surrounded the building, past the rusted metal boxes with glass fronts that still held moldering newspapers, and dandled the child against her chest. Her sneakered feet made no noise. In the still air, she could smell the smoky remnants of the fire Eli had built in the parking lot, against the black silhouettes of trees.
That was where she heard something move.
Esther froze.
With Kai heavy in her arms, Esther stayed still and willed her eyes to grow accustomed to the dark. Within moments, she could not only hear but see something moving by the campsite, something large. There had been little left from dinner; after eating, she and the others had cracked the bones open with their teeth and sucked out the marrow inside. But some kind of animal now seemed to be rummaging through their garbage, rooting in what they had thrown out.
It was most likely a bear, Esther thought; wild dogs traveled at dusk, and mountain lions didn’t eat dead meat. She knew enough to stay away: A mother bear with cubs could be especially deadly. Keeping her eye on the dark figure huddled over the campsite, she began walking backward one small step at a time, in order not to draw any attention to herself.
The clouds parted. In the sudden light, Esther saw what it was and her heart contracted. Then in the next second, everything was plunged once more into total darkness. Yet nothing could erase the image just seared onto her brain.
It was Lewt.
Could it really be him? She had only caught the briefest glimpse, yet it was impossible Esther could ever forget his shape, his face, his silhouette. A wave of hatred swept over her, one so powerful that she felt paralyzed, rooted to the spot. Then, with a start, she remembered the baby in her arms, as well as the others inside, asleep and defenseless. But before she could slip back in the building, the clouds parted again. This time, the moonlight fully revealed the pale circle of Lewt’s face as he looked up.
He saw her. And he broke into a slow smile.
Her eyes swept the parking lot, searching for his companions, but he seemed to be alone. Even so, he appeared sure of himself as he sauntered forward. As he approached, Esther saw why: He still carried the weapon by his side, the thing Joseph called a “rifle.”
She had seen up close what the weapon could do; it could kill a person in the time it took to point it. It would be foolish, she realized, to run indoors to awaken the others; the broken doors and smashed windows would provide no protection. Even with Skar’s bow and arrows, they would be helpless against such a weapon should he decide to attack.
Esther made a quick decision: She would speak to Lewt alone. If all he wanted was food and water, she could give him what few supplies they had and send him away.
“Well,” he drawled as he drew close. “Look what we got here.”
Esther smelled the stink of him even before she could get a good look. Lewt had lost weight, like the rest of them; his cheeks were sunken, and his filthy robes and jeans hung off his bony frame, cinched with a cracked belt. There were black holes in his mouth where his front teeth used to be. Caleb’s work, she thought with grim satisfaction.
Lewt was still eating, gnawing on bone splinters that no one else had found edible. “Hope you don’t mind I helped myself. Smell of cooked meat travels far and I’m famished.” He set the barrel of his rifle against the ground and leaned on it, picking what remained of his teeth with a greasy fingernail.
“What are you doing here?” Esther asked at last.
The boy smiled again. “What you think?”
Kai stirred. Esther realized she was gripping him too tightly and she forced herself to relax. “You want something to eat.”
Lewt shrugged. “That’s why I come. But that ain’t why I here.” He leered in her face and Esther felt ice down her back.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do,” he replied. “You and me got some unfinished business.” He extended a filthy hand, but she yanked away before he could touch her face.
Kai awoke with a start and started to cry.
“That his?” Lewt turned and spat in the dust. His eyes narrowed as he watched Esther pat the child and bounce him on her shoulder. “That
the reason you didn’t come with me?”
Esther gazed up at the boy. For an instant, she was in danger of giving in to her roiling emotions. Then she regained her composure.
“No,” she said.
Lewt shrugged, as if resigned. “I ain’t expecting an honest answer. Can I ask a different kind of favor?”
Guarded, Esther nodded.
“My bicycle broke down a few days ago,” he continued. His voice was now openly plaintive. “Been walking everywhere, and it wore me out.”
“If you want a bicycle,” said Esther in a stony voice, “take it and go.” She nodded toward the foyer, where they were heaped. It would be a serious sacrifice, but worth it if he left without harming anyone.
Lewt kept his eye on her as he walked to the entry. Even when he turned to rummage through the bicycles, pausing to inspect the tires on one, the handlebars on another, he never took his hand off his rifle.
Finally, he settled on the one that pleased him, their best vehicle. Then Esther watched as he searched the wagon and grabbed the bottles of boiled water and plastic bags full of acorns and dried meat, stuffing them into his pack. It wasn’t much, but it was all they had.
When Lewt emerged, he seemed apologetic. “Hope you don’t mind, I took a little something for the road.”
Esther didn’t answer.
“I brung enough for both of us.” Lewt nodded at the baby in her arms. “Ain’t enough for three, so you best leave it. Runty little thing ain’t got long to live, anyways.” He had a thought. “You want one so bad, we can have one together. Once we get to Mundreel. How that sound? Have our own family, me and you.”
Again, Esther didn’t answer and Lewt’s face constricted in anger.
“Goddamn it,” he said. “I’m sick of this. What so wrong with me?”
He lunged forward to grab her wrist, but his robes became caught in the gears of the bicycle. Cursing, he staggered to the side and struggled to free himself, weighed down by his bag. As the vehicle tipped over, the rifle dropped.
Esther snatched it up before it could hit the ground.
“Get out of here,” she said.
Her voice was steady, but the firearm trembled in her grasp and she fumbled to keep it straight. She had never touched one before; it was heavier than she thought and awkward to handle while still holding Kai.
For a moment, Lewt looked surprised. Then he laughed. He bent down to spin the pedal, extricating the filthy cloth from the interlocking wheels. Wiping his hands clean, he threw the bicycle aside and faced her.
“I said, get out,” Esther repeated, her voice harsh.
Lewt ignored her. “First her partner, now you. Always something get in the way.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved something that glinted in the moonlight. It was his knife—the same one that had killed Caleb. Esther had seen it many times, in her nightmares.
She realized he was addressing Kai, speaking in low tones that were almost tender.
“I can’t have you ruin everything,” he said.
Esther stumbled back a step. Then in one quick gesture, she pointed the rifle in the air and pulled the trigger. The weapon nearly bucked from her arm as it exploded, deafening her. The sound awoke faraway birds and sent them, fluttering and cawing, into the night air.
Lewt stopped for a second and looked upward, impressed. Then he continued to talk to the screaming child, his blade drawn as he came closer.
“Your mama thinks she going to miss you. But she’ll get over you. I swear.” He looked at Esther and smiled. “She’ll get over you the way she got over your daddy. And it won’t hurt for but a minute.”
As he lunged forward at the child, Esther brought the rifle down by instinct, squeezing the trigger as she did. There was an explosion of heat and light and Lewt was thrown backward. Esther, covered with a spray of something hot and sticky, clung to Kai, who was shrieking.
Through tearing eyes, Esther saw that Lewt lay on the ground, several feet away. His twitching legs were spread wide, and his head was wrenched to one side. What had been his chest a few moments ago was now a wet and blackened hole, pulsating in the moonlight. His knife lay on the ground between them, shining, useless.
And suddenly, there were torches and sound.
People surrounded Esther. They were all talking to each other, touching her, pulling her weapon away. Throughout it all, Esther could hear nothing, feel nothing.
The world retreated from her. And everything for Esther grew silent.
Fifteen
HOLDING UP A TORCH, ELI STOOD OVER THE DEAD BODY.
It was clear what had happened: Lewt had been tracking them all this time. Esther had found him outside and somehow managed to seize his rifle, killing him with his own weapon. Eli hoped he would have done the same had he been in her place.
Still, he found he was rattled she had done it at all.
“What do we do with him?” he asked, keeping his voice down.
Silas didn’t even shrug as he dropped to his knees. “Ain’t no difference to me,” he said as he began to go through the dead boy’s pockets.
Eli found it distasteful and turned away. The body was still warm; the flies had yet to arrive. But before he could say anything, someone spoke up.
It was Joseph. The boy, so serious and peculiar, had always bewildered Eli. Now he stood in front of him, his face full of emotion.
“We have to bury him,” he said.
Confused, Eli blinked. Even Silas glanced up as he felt along Lewt’s ankles for anything he might have hidden in his socks. “Why?” asked Eli.
“Because,” Joseph said, “he’s a human, not an animal. It’s the right thing to do.” When Silas snorted and continued his work, Joseph repeated himself, his voice rising. “It’s the right thing to do.”
Up close, Eli could see that the older boy was trembling with emotion, his neck flushed a deep red. Eli admired Joseph’s sense of morality. But something more important occurred to him.
“He’s right,” he said to Silas. “What if Lewt’s boys show up and find him? They might come after us.”
Silas slipped a few items into his pockets as he thought it over. Then he nodded.
“Take his legs,” Eli ordered. “Joseph, get the shovel and bring the others. We’re gonna need some help.”
Then a harsh voice cut through the night air. “Nobody’s helping anybody.”
It was Esther.
Still holding Kai in one arm and the rifle in the other, she shook free of Skar, who tried to hold her back. As the child wailed, Asha rushed forward to take him. But before she could wrestle him from his mother, Esther lashed out without looking. Asha screamed as the rifle butt hit her glancingly, knocking her down.
“Asha!” shouted Eli.
The girl looked up, stunned, from the ground. As her lower lip trembled and tears began to well up in her round eyes, she scrambled to her feet. White-faced, she bolted away, into the woods.
“Asha!” Eli called again, but it was no use. He would have to find and soothe her later.
In the flickering circle of torchlight, Esther now loomed over the dead body. Against the darkening flecks of Lewt’s blood, the pallor of her face stood in shocking contrast.
“How do you mean?” Eli asked her.
“I mean,” Esther said, “nobody’s burying him.”
Eli exchanged glances with Silas. A similar look passed between Skar and Michal, yet no one said anything. Then Joseph spoke up.
“But Esther,” he began, “he’s—”
“I don’t care.” She spat the words, making her friend recoil. “Leave him for the wild dogs. They could use the meat.”
Then she turned to go. As she passed, Skar attempted to touch her arm. But Esther jerked free of any contact before disappearing inside.
She needed to be alone. There was something as poisonous as rainwater inside her now, Esther sensed, something she feared would splash out and hurt those she loved. She still felt gripped by hatred, caught up in the same trem
bling sickness she had felt after she pulled the trigger.
She paced the building like an imprisoned animal, swiftly and with unseeing eyes; but the movement gave her no relief. She realized there was something else bothering her. It, too, repelled her and made her weak, like cold metal in her stomach.
It was guilt. Wretched, she felt remorse at having taken a life, even one as debased and worthless as Lewt’s.
A sound made her turn her head. A familiar silhouette stood motionless across the echoing space: Skar.
“I think I can help.”
“Can you?” Esther could not keep the desperation from her voice.
“I can try. Come with me.”
Obeying a new instinct, Esther reached for the rifle.
“Leave that,” Skar said. And after a second, Esther did.
Once they were outside, Skar took Esther and Kai in a different direction, away from the others who still clustered around Lewt’s body. “Wait here,” she said.
Running on light feet, Skar crossed the parking lot and slipped into the dark woods behind the rest area. The sky was touched with the palest hint of dawn; and her eyes soon adjusted to the gloom.
After several minutes, she returned carrying a few objects in her cupped hands. They were small mushrooms, gleaming white with purple gills, as well as a few ferns with feathery leaves. They all looked ordinary, the kinds of thing you would find underneath any fallen tree or boulder. Yet Skar placed them all on the ground with great care, making sure to wipe her hands thoroughly on her tunic after handling them.
“Don’t touch these,” she instructed Esther.
Skar darted away again, this time deeper into the parking lot, where a dozen cars and trucks were arranged in an orderly fashion across the asphalt. Each was in its own diagonal space marked by faded white lines. As Skar ran up and down the aisles, her eyes flickered over the rows of rusted and dented vehicles, scrutinizing each one until she found the one she wanted.
It was a box-shaped thing in a dingy color that must have once been a vibrant silver, with sliding doors on the sides. Unlike most of the other cars, its windows were still intact, although obscured by a heavy crust of dust, mud, and bird droppings. Stuck to the low, rusted metal bar in the rear was a rectangular piece of paper, barely legible. On it, in faded letters, were the words VIRGINIA IS FOR LOVERS.
