Wanderers (13 page)

Yet the person who knelt before her now had no such judgment or cruelty in her gaze, only thoughtfulness and kindness.

Although they had barely spoken, Michal had liked the variant girl with the mysterious lavender eyes from the start. On the first day, Skar had shared her own food and water with Michal when she saw there wasn't enough to go around. So when Michal saw her surrounded by those thugs the night before, it hadn't crossed her mind not to come to her defense. Now she felt herself relax at the touch of Skar's hand, as gentle as a bird's wing on her chin.

“Each scar tells a story,” Skar was saying. “But they are not you. They are only images drawn on your surface.”

Michal was jarred out of her thoughts. “That's crazy,” she said under her breath. But Skar continued.

“That is why we variants embrace them. Because scars mark the important events of our lives.”

With her finger, Skar traced the circle carved on her upper arm. “You see? This was the event of my tenth birthday. The day I chose to be a girl.”

Michal said nothing but could not keep from listening. She indicated a series of scrolls that encircled Skar's ankle. “So what's that for?”

“It was the day I first walked.”

“And this?” It was a rabbit, above her right elbow.

“The occasion I killed my first animal.”

Michal nodded, but her mood once again darkened.

“Not all scars are positive,” Skar added. “Sometimes, others write them on us without our consent.”

Michal's jaw tightened. “What would you know about that?”

Without a word, Skar bent forward, lifting her tunic so Michal could see her naked back. When she did, the girl gave an involuntary gasp. After a moment, Skar pulled her garment down again and sat up.

“I thought—” Michal tried to speak, then stopped. She swallowed hard. “Who did that to you?”

“My partner.”

“And did you ever—”

“No,” said Skar. “I have never shown it to anyone before. Not even Esther. Only you.”

“It's humiliating. Isn't it?” Michal looked away and when she spoke, it was in a whisper. “When I see my face, I feel so ashamed.” But Skar was shaking her head.

“It is not your shame,” she said, her voice hard. “It is the shame of the ones who did it to us.”

“But my face.” Michal's hands fluttered across her features. “He . . . he shouldn't have done that to my face.”

Skar's expression was still serious, but her tone softened.

“Maybe the worst injuries are not the ones we can see,” she said. “If they heal, they are nothing. Just another story written on the skin. But I think the worst damage is in here.” She pointed to her chest. “I was frightened this would kill me. But it did not, and with luck I will become stronger. Perhaps.” She bit her lip. “I only hope Esther can survive what she has gone through.”

In the distance, the faint wail of a baby made both girls look up.

“Kai,” said Michal. “Asha said she'd watch him, but she don't know anything about babies.”

But Skar was still thinking about Esther. “Perhaps we can help speed the process,” she said.

That night, Eli was the first to notice her.

He and the others had gathered around a small fire, when he saw something stir in the woods. Moments later, Esther appeared, looking pale and drawn, her eyes swollen. A watchful Joseph followed close behind.

Whispers traveled around the fire, but Skar shook her head. Without a word, she made room next to her and Esther sat down.

For a while, there was no sound except for the popping of the fire. At last, Eli caught Skar's glance and raised an eyebrow. It was a question. She frowned, then gave a slight shrug in acquiescence.

“Esther,” Eli said. “I don't know how much of this you know. But most everyone's gone. Rafe, he went away with—” Eli stopped himself in midsentence, then finished clumsily. “Anyhow, he's gone. And the others decided to head back to Prin. Whatever was left, they took with them. It's just us, now.”

Esther didn't look at him and he was struck by how still she was. It seemed like she wasn't even breathing and her eyes, unblinking and dull, were like lumps of charred wood in her white face.

It's like she died, too,
thought Eli.

“We aim to keep going to Mundreel,” he continued after a moment. “Ain't no choice . . . if we stay, we all gonna die soon enough. We should of set off this morning, only—” Eli stopped again, then continued in a gentler voice. “Anyways, that's no matter. We aim to set off now. And we need to know if you with us or not.”

A violent shudder passed through Esther. It was the only sign of life she had shown. Eli thought she was about to speak, but after a moment, her face grew dull once again.

Eli was so focused on Esther, he only now noticed that Skar had slipped away from the circle. She came back, carrying something in her arms.

It was Kai, who stirred in his blanket. Eli wondered why Skar had awakened the child and brought him to such a meeting. Puzzled, he watched as the variant girl walked to the other side of the circle, where Asha sat.

“Here,” Skar said in a clear voice. “He wants his mama.” Then she pulled the blanket away and handed the child to Asha. The girl, startled yet delighted, took him in her eager arms.

A chunk of wood broke off from a burning log, illuminating Kai. Shocked by being awoken and having his warm coverlet removed, the boy flailed his arms and legs as Asha struggled to comfort him. She tried to rock him the way she had seen Esther do. But her touch was clumsy and Kai began to wail and then shriek, his face turning red and rosy, the round cheeks streaked with tears.

Eli was not the only one who was confused. “What are you playing at?” Rhea's voice was shrill with indignation. “That ain't his mother.” Annoyed as well, Eli was about to tell Skar to take the boy away, when someone else spoke.

“Give him to me.”

It was Esther. She stood, swaying yet alert, and addressed Asha. “He's mine.”

Now Asha stood as well, her lower lip jutting out as she held the baby away. It was clear she didn't want to give him up; petulant tears filled her eyes as she glanced in appeal to Eli. Confused, he nodded toward Esther.

“Give him to her,” was all he said.

With obvious reluctance, Asha handed the boy over. Esther had already retrieved the blanket from Skar and was fashioning it into a sling. From where he sat, Eli could see Kai's face, and for a moment he was struck by Kai's resemblance to his late father.

In a flash, Eli understood.

Esther was already cradling the child and murmuring his name. Struck by Skar's cleverness, Eli glanced at her to express his thanks, but the variant girl had already risen to her feet.

“I'll go check on the bicycles,” was all she said. Then she disappeared into the night.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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B
Y MIDMORNING OF THE FOLLOWING DAY, THE DEPLETED GROUP OF NINE
was trying to make up for lost time.

Yet progress was slow, much slower than it had been when they had traveled as a larger group. There were now only four bicycles between them. They had managed to cobble together two wagons from various parts, with Joseph, his cat, and Kai riding in one. All of the vehicles were in poor shape and the caravan was forced to stop again and again for repairs.

Eli insisted on leading, so he rode at the front. Before they set out that morning, he had conferred with Joseph in private about which direction they should take.

“I'm afraid I don't know,” the older boy had said after a long pause.

“What do you mean?” Eli was confused.

“The bad ones,” Joseph started, then stopped. “They took everything. My books, my maps. I don't even know where we are.”

Eli had nodded, although his mind was whirling. If Joseph had no idea where to go, who would?

“Well,” he managed to say, “can you at least point us in the right direction?”

Joseph had considered the question for some time before. Then he reached down and drew an X in the dirt at their feet.

“Look,” he said, “this is us. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. North is this way. That's where we have to head.” He drew a line and glanced at Eli, apologetic. “I'm afraid that's all I know.”

Yet Eli found it impossible to follow the major highway for more than a few miles. Frequent obstructions made it impassable at times, forcing them to take exits that led to other roads, roads that sometimes led in wholly new directions. After a few hours, Eli wasn't sure that they hadn't gone in a complete circle.

There were other problems he didn't know how to solve, either.

No one had had anything to eat or drink in nearly two days. Skar's improvised throwing stick was a poor substitute for her finely wrought bow made of fiberglass and wood; and she despaired of ever mastering it to the point where she could catch any game. By now, everyone held clean pebbles in their mouths, sucking them to create the illusion of moisture. But thirst was beginning to affect them all.

The youngest and smallest—Asha, Silas—fell farther and farther behind. Kai had been crying incessantly from within his wagon; even more frightening was when at last he grew silent.

Eli did not share his greatest fear: that Lewt and his gang might be lying in wait for them. Eli couldn't help scanning the horizon and every bend in the road with dread.

He felt a massive sense of relief when a lone sign finally appeared on the horizon, resting high on a metal pole above the trees:
EXXON
. It would be a place to stop, he figured, and was perhaps even an indication that a town lay nearby.

“Over there,” he called, raising a hand.

From the rear of the caravan, Esther saw the others take the exit and she followed. By the time they pulled into the gas station, she was so faint she had to steady herself against the handlebars and her legs trembled with exhaustion. She turned to check on Kai, so quiet in the wagon behind her. Despite the suffocating heat, his skin was clammy and cold; and Esther felt a stab of fear deep in her gut.

All day, she had tried to hold her tongue, even when Eli made decisions that she sensed were rash. She knew he was trying his best and the last thing she wanted was to undermine his authority; their morale, as poor as it was, was literally the only thing they had left. Yet as he floundered with one bad decision after another, she sensed they were on the verge of losing their most vulnerable members.

Without water, Kai would surely die. And one by one, they would all succumb as well.

By now, the others had dismounted and moved into the shattered remains of the gas station. There she assumed they would Glean the convenience store and attached garage, searching for water and food. Silas and Rhea were already carrying out implements they had found—a coil of rope, various tools, a good-size knife, and other items—and loading them into the wagon.
But without something to drink,
Esther realized,
it was all pointless.

“Why don't you rest?” Off her bicycle, Skar crouched low, easing her legs and back.

“No,” Esther said, “I'm going to see if there's anything nearby.” She tapped on the wagon, and Joseph emerged, drawn and pale. A listless Kai lay in his arms. “Keep an eye on him until I get back.”

Before Skar could say anything more, Esther had already remounted and taken off.

She refused to think about Caleb.

His murder had killed something inside her; and she had sealed all thoughts of him deep within, a howling void of loss and fury she swore she would never again confront. Instead, she chose to focus on survival: that of her son, and of her friends. They were all she had left.

The empty cart rattled behind her on the overgrown country highway that curved and bent in the dimming light. Then she saw something promising: a shack that hadn't been destroyed, set back from the street.

Sure enough, Esther found what she had been looking for: a street in which the storefronts and small buildings appeared occupied. As Esther slowed, she even saw a few bicycles parked in various front yards.

She soon came to a small store, one that had faded words painted on a cracked window:
POLANSKI'S DELI
. Outside, a girl with a tangle of dark, curly hair, perhaps six or seven, sat on the lowest step. She had been drinking soda from a large plastic bottle but stopped to stare. A stranger on the bicycle was in front of her, her lips cracked and her expression desperate. But the little girl was already scrambling up the stairs, terrified.

“Please.” Esther's throat was so dry, the word was little more than a croak. “I just need—”

An older girl burst from the building, brandishing what looked like a table leg. She had the same dark-brown cloud of hair; she and the little one were clearly sisters. As she advanced, with fear and defiance in her eyes, her sibling ran behind her and clung to her robes.

When she saw it was only a thin girl, exhausted and covered with dust, the older one hesitated. The three stood like that, in a silent tableau. Then at last she spoke.

“We was attacked,” she said, and didn't elaborate.

Had it been Lewt and his boys?
Esther wondered but said nothing.

“So what you want?” said the older girl. Although she had lowered her weapon, she still gripped it by her side and her expression was suspicious.

“Something to eat or to drink,” Esther said, “anything you could spare. You see, we—”

“We ain't got nothing,” the older girl snapped.

Esther turned to go, then realized she could not. “Please,” she said. “It's for a baby. My little boy.”

The older one said nothing, but the little girl emerged from behind her sister's robes. Her eyes were wide. “You got a baby?”