Wanderers (24 page)

Lewt shrugged. “That's why I come. But that ain't not why I here.” He leered into her face and Esther felt ice down her back.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Her voice sounded frozen.

“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 it 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 sending 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.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

H
OLDING UP A TORCH
, E
LI 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 stood 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 trembling 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 light 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, it in faded letters, were the words
VIRGINIA IS FOR LOVERS
.

It was what Tarq called a “van.”

Perfect,
thought Skar.

She tried the handles and, to her relief, one of them released with a loud metallic clunk. She managed to slide the door open, and a rush of hot, stale air surged to greet her.

Skar crawled inside. As she had hoped, it was almost pitch black inside, with only the faintest glints of morning light showing through the cracked mud. There was a wide, padded seat of ancient leather with armrests attached to the floor; with effort, she found she could tilt it forward. This created more room in the back, a place where a person could sit cross-legged.

Skar cleared away the trash that cluttered the floor: musty clothing, a few stuffed animals, empty soda bottles, and a small plastic object called iPod. A dusty stack of browned and crumbling newspaper she decided to keep, pushing it into a large heap. Then she sat on her heels and examined the space with a critical eye.

It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do.

“Get in,” Skar said, crawling out. She gathered up the plants she had found in the forest and followed Esther back into the van. “Sit in the corner,” she instructed, and Esther obeyed like a small child. Then Skar arranged the pile of newspaper so it was farthest from Esther, in the opposite corner.

“This is a Spirit Room.” Skar chose her words with care. “Only our eldest females are allowed to attempt it. And that is after many months of training and fasting. I know how to build it, since I have seen that many times.” She sighed. “But I cannot lie to you, Esther. That is all I know.”

Esther did not answer.

“I'm going to leave you now,” Skar said. “There's going to be smoke, and in a few minutes, it's going to be hard to breathe. You might even think you're dying. But you're not.”

Esther spoke for the first time. “What should I do?”

“Nothing,” said Skar. “Just don't fight it. If you keep breathing, you'll be fine.”

Don't be frightened,
Skar wanted to add. But she knew it would be useless.

Using a purple firestarter she dug from her pouch, Skar lit the heap of newspaper. The ancient newsprint caught quickly; within moments, the air was full of acrid smoke and ash. She waited until the flames died down; and when they were reduced to crumbling orange and white flakes, she scattered the handful of mushrooms and ferns across them.

“Remember,” she said. “I'll be right outside.”

Then Skar took Kai in her arms, backed up, and jumped free of the van. When she slid the door shut with a bang, Esther's world was plunged into darkness.

Esther brought her knees to her chest and leaned against the warm metal wall. Mixed in with the scent of burning paper was something unfamiliar that grew stronger every second: a heavy, vegetal smell that seemed to cling to her skin and hair, burrowing its way into her eyes and nostrils like something alive. The billowing smoke seared her nose and throat.