Hungry Independents (Book 2) (25 page)

He turned around the one person who should
have had all the answers. At least the ones he needed. She was just
like Catherine, and now he wanted straight talk, or something bad
was going to happen.

“Tell me everything.”

Barbie searched his eyes. She seemed to be
looking for this birdman that everyone claimed roosted somewhere
inside his skin. Her face masked something different though. She
was sad, and Hunter felt that her sadness was somehow shared by
him, only he didn’t know what there was to be sad about. The Big
Bad was just a sad place now.

Barbie released another slow sigh.

“When you died and Catherine brought you
back, someone returned with you. He’s needed to fight the war
that’s coming.”

Hunter nodded. “So you’re saying an angel
came back and is living inside me.”

“Not just any angel. He and I have a
relationship.”

“You have a relationship with an angel?”

“Not just any angel, Hunter. God’s archangel,
Michael.”

That’s
total
bullshit
, Hunter
thought.

“No, Hunter. It’s the Will of God,” the angel
said. Hunter covered his mouth after he involuntarily spoke.

Barbie smiled at him.

Margaret thought today would be a good one,
considering things couldn’t get any worse. She looked out her
window at the new morning and the debris scattered along Main
Street from the grasshopper attack. She rolled over onto her back,
trying to remember how she made it to bed. Someone had carried her
here after she healed Mark. She thought about how much explaining
she’d have to do, and decided that maybe today wouldn’t be so great
after all.

After kicking the sheet off, she sat on the
edge of her soft, wide bed. She felt guilty about sharing it with
another person. She knew Molly truly loved Hunter, but Margaret’s
chastity had been very important. Now she would have to come to
terms with having a lover. That word alone made her cringe.

Memories of times spent in the bed with
Hunter brought other, unfamiliar sensations, mixing with the guilt
like one big stew of confusion. If Hunter returned today then that
would ruin all her chances at a good day. She’d rather face
horsemen and hellhounds than have a discussion with him about the
future of their relationship.

Margaret selected clean clothes out of her
closet. She removed Samuel’s shirt that looked just fine, except
for the dirty splotch on the back that probably happened when she
fainted in the middle of the street last night.

Margaret dressed and opened the door to her
living room. Samuel sat on the couch with his chin resting on his
chest and a long strand of drool hanging from his lower lip. He
should have been in the fields by now, but after yesterday’s
business, he probably needed the extra rest.

She took one step and his bleary eyes opened.
His head popped up and the drool snapped in half, dropping onto his
lap. He wiped the leftover off his chin and smiled.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. What are
you doing here?”

“I was assigned to you.”

Margaret raised her eyebrows.

He laughed. “When Mark woke up injury free,
thanks to you, he wanted to run home and be with Vanessa and his
kid, but he also wanted to stay with you. I told him I could handle
it. So here I am, handling it.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Sure. But I wake up early, and since all you
have around here are these boring psychology books, I must have
drifted off again. How are you doing?”

Margaret considered everything in a flash and
shrugged. “I’ve been better. But that probably can be said for
everyone in town.”

“You got that right. We have some major
problems, including that freak that almost killed Mark. I need to
check out the damage to the crops. Billy said that the bugs left
Main Street and went straight to the fields. We could be in a lot
of trouble if he was right.”

“Do you want to go now? I was on my way out
to see Mark and Vanessa.”

Samuel stood and stretched, his shirt lifted,
exposing his flat stomach. Margaret quickly regarded the street
outside, where kids now milled around cleaning up debris. Since
Jimmy’s death, the kids of Independents had grown more responsible
in the upkeep of their town. His legacy inspired that.

“Well, do you mind looking at the fields with
me real quick? I’m sort of your personal guard until I’m told
otherwise. Plus, I want to be there when the sheriff questions
you.” Samuel’s smile stretched across his face, wide and
toothy.

Margaret’s shoulders tightened with tension.
A lot of people would be lining up for answers. It was one thing
for Catherine to be so secretive, but these people had known
Margaret, or rather Molly, for the better part of six years, and in
her twin’s case, all of her life.

“Why do you want to be there when I see
Mark?”

Samuel’s eyes twinkled like he knew a good
joke and was trying to figure out if it was age appropriate for the
audience. Normally he didn’t stop to consider. “You turned Dylan
and me into electric bug zappers and then you healed your brother’s
slit throat. I’d say you’re quite the miracle worker and I’d like
to know how that is and if I can borrow the textbook. What you did
to me last night—it was incredible.”

Margaret nodded. “Yes, it was.” She looked
out the window once more. Emma had taken up position in the middle
of the street, directing the others with a lot of pointing and
shouting.

“So do we have a deal? You’re coming with me
to the fields first?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Sure, you can walk on your own freewill or
be dragged. I’d offer you a piggyback ride but that might send the
wrong message to everyone we pass.”

Margaret laughed. “What, that you’re a big
dork? I’m pretty sure that message has been received loud and
clear.”

They left, walking down the stairs to ground
level. Emma caught their attention and waved them over. Margaret
followed Samuel.

“Great, we could use the extra hands,” Emma
said as they arrived. “I’ve got all this glass to clean up along
with this sticky roof gravel and there are some ripped awnings that
will need to be mended. I’m counting on you to pick up the slack
there, Molly, since Ginger is still recovering. The Jenson sisters
are already disassembling the old material. You’ll probably need to
make all new awnings. Maybe instead of stripes we can go with a
bolder color that will really set off our Main Street area?”

“We’re headed out to check the fields,”
Samuel told her. “Molly has to stick with me, but it looks like you
have everything under control.”

“Well of course I do, but my people are
getting hungry and we haven’t seen any of the Brittanys.”

“They were still cleaning up the mess inside
when I carried Molly home late last night. They’re probably still
sleeping. Go on in and set out some bread and fruit for
everyone.”

Emma’s eyes bulged out. “Do you know what
would happen if Chef Brittany found me messing around in her
kitchen?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Samuel leaned
over and spoke quietly so no one else but Margaret could overhear.
“My advice: don’t get caught and make sure you have someone else
around to blame if you do.”

He left quickly. Margaret offered Emma a
reassuring pat on the shoulder in passing.

When Margaret caught up, she prodded an elbow
into Samuel’s side. “You’re kind of a troublemaker.”

Samuel cocked an eyebrow with a self
righteous smile. “I’m a full fledged troublemaker. We all have our
hidden talents. You can heal people and I can cause great strife
with a few well placed suggestions. I call it my master plan.”

“I call it a bunch of grief.”

The walk to the edge of town left them
feeling less anxious about their destination. As they moved from
Main Street, the debris of broken glass and roofing materials
lessened and converted into green leaves and broken branches. The
grasshoppers appeared to have ignored the houses completely.

The optimism vanished as soon as they crested
the hill overlooking the fields. Total devastation was the word
that sprung to Margaret’s mind.

“We are so dead,” Samuel said.

What lay before them looked like a giant
lawnmower had ridden right over their food supply and torn it to
shreds, scattering the chaff on the ground as far as their eyes
could see. The orchard was stripped bare. Trees stood with their
naked branches reaching towards the sky, robbed of their leaves and
fruit.

“Should we get help and gather what we can?”
Margaret asked.

Samuel stared out across the horizon of his
hard labors these past many months. His face darkened with emotion.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t look like anything is edible down there
now.”

He stumbled down the hill in a trance, as if
his feet were dragging him somewhere he didn’t want to visit.
Margaret walked behind him with the same type of dread. She saw
past the torn field into the future comprised of a long winter
without enough food for everyone, a winter full of hardships and
sacrifices. Fear crept over her for the inevitable season ahead,
and the destruction of the crops was only the start. The monster
that attacked her brother would be around all winter long, picking
off the weak. This was Famine’s doing, and he was just warming
up.

She spent the next half-hour following Samuel
as he assessed the situation without hope of finding anything
salvageable. By the end of the fruitless tour, neither Samuel nor
Margaret felt like doing anything other than lying down and giving
up. Margaret knew she should be stronger. That she should be the
one sharing God’s light, starting with Samuel, but overwhelming
despair left her hollow and scared.

“We better go see your brother now,” Samuel
said. “He and Vanessa should be the first to know that we probably
won’t survive the winter.”

Margaret shook her head, wanting to say
something, but nothing came to mind. Samuel took off at a fast
pace, walking up the hill to Independents. Margaret ran to catch
him. “There’s a reason this is happening, Samuel,” she said at
last, not knowing the reason, but wanting to encourage him. “He has
a purpose for all of this.”

Samuel stopped short, and Margaret bowled
into his back, knocking him down in the dirt road. Samuel pushed up
slowly to his knees. Margaret grabbed his arm and aided him to his
feet.

“He who?” Samuel said, brushing off his
knees. “And don’t tell me Scout has you believing too. We’re on our
own. The only purpose out there is the one we make for
ourselves.”

“That’s not true. What about the miracles
you’ve witnessed? What about the light last night that gave you
power to fight your enemies? Where do you think that came
from?”

Samuel kicked at a divot in the road and
looked up at Margaret. “I don’t know. But what purpose could
He
possibly have in allowing our crops to
be destroyed? How do we know
His
purpose is
the one controlling everything? Maybe something more powerful is
calling the shots and
He’s
along for the
ride like us.”

“That’s just not possible. There is no one
more powerful than God. That’s not to say others can’t affect the
world in which we live.”

“If God is so powerful, then why doesn’t He
just put a stop to this and give us back our lives?”

Molly reached out and took Samuel’s hands. “I
think He is. That’s why Catherine and I are here. He is making a
stand and He’s doing it in Independents. That’s why that creature
and his insects came. Everything that will decide the fate of the
world is going to happen right here.”

Samuel’s hands hung loose in hers. He stared
into her eyes as if searching for the truth hidden behind them.
“Who are you, Molly?”

She squeezed his hands and reached a
decision. She would no longer hide the truth from him or the other
older kids in town. This was too much for them not to know and
understand. They had the right to know.

“My true name is Margaret. I am a holy saint.
I have been placed here to fight this evil by your side. We will
prevail through this, Samuel, with God’s guidance and grace.”

Scout woke to bright sunshine streaming
through his bedroom window. He tied on his shoes and stepped out
with the hope that Brittany’s was still serving breakfast. His
hunger was second only to his concern that last night’s events
would carry over into today. He stutter-stepped onto Main Street,
expecting to find a mess, but instead the whole place had been
miraculously cleaned up. How he slept through the entire street
sweeping project mystified him.

The crowd noise from Brittany’s flowed
outside like a wave of jabbering, excited voices. Scout entered
through the doorway instead of jumping through the empty window
frame. When the door closed behind him, silence swept over the room
in a sea of shushes. Like the beginning of a spring shower,
clapping slowly grew to a crushing, tumultuous applause. Everyone
rose to their feet and faced Scout. Cheers rained down on him, and
the look of joy on everyone’s face nearly made Scout weep from the
unexpected pleasure of appreciation.

Even more unexpected, Dylan approached him
first and shook his hand with a genuine smile and a firm grip,
convincing Scout that this was no elaborate hoax. This was
real.

“What’s going on, Dylan?”

“Word has gotten around, Preach… Sorry, I
mean, Scout. You’re a hero. That’s all everybody’s been talking
about. How you came in here and told everyone what to do with the
tables. The tables, man. If they hadn’t set them up like you told
them, we’d have lost half the town when the windows blew and the
bugs poured inside.”