In a Handful of Dust

  “Why question it? We’d be dead, otherwise.”

  “Right, but why? Just to find half-gone people like ourselves, bring us back from the edge of death with tomatoes?”

  “Why not?”

  “’Cause this is a dark world, and I’ve yet to see those who have helping those who have not unless they’ve got their own reasons.”

  “We do,” Lucy pointed out. “We gave that family a perfectly good house with a freshwater source back in Nebraska.”

  “That was your choice. And you had a reason.” Lynn’s eyes flashed, all her strength pouring into her words. “This ain’t California, little one, and don’t you forget it. These people were driving way out of their way, burning gas without knowing we were out there to save. And I want to know why.”

  “Next time they offer to save my life or give me something to eat I’ll question that, okay?”

  Lynn ignored Lucy’s tone, her eyes sliding shut again. “Thing is, you’ve got something to offer in return. Me, I don’t matter here. They ask you to show them where water is, you do it.”

  “I would anyway,” Lucy said. “We owe them.”

  “That’s right, we both do. But you’re the only one who can repay the debt. You’re the one they need, the one they’re going to listen to. You understand?”

  “Yeah, I get it,” Lucy said, her voice lacking the conviction of her words. “I’m the one in charge now.”

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

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

  Twenty-Seven

  Nora insisted Lynn remain in bed, a rule Lynn disobeyed until Bailey tried to enforce it. The resulting match of wills ended with a broken wheelchair and the remnants of Lynn’s uneaten overripe tomato running down Bailey’s face. After that Lucy tried to be in the room whenever Bailey was around, but Lynn’s increasing unhappiness and the alluring call of freedom under the bright sky kept her away more than she had intended.

  Ben was not ideal company, but his short shadow dogged her footsteps no matter where she went in the city. She soaked up the incessant stream of information he supplied, and regurgitated it for Lynn at night in the darkness of their shared room. She learned much and met new people, always cataloging their names, descriptions, and duties within the city to report back to Lynn in the evening. Lynn listened carefully, but Lucy’s mind was whirring away, analyzing the oasis of a city.

  The long, deep pools full of sand fascinated Lucy, and she spent time lounging by their sculpted tops, watching the hot breeze make new patterns and imagining what the world had been like when crystalline waters lapped the concrete banks. But she was not asked to find fresh water, or prove her abilities again. Ben brought four bottles full of water, her allotment for the day. People in physically demanding jobs received six, as did the ill.

  “Ugh.” Lynn grimaced, holding the bottle up to the light. “Doesn’t taste right.”

  “Ben says that’s on account of the chlorine,” Lucy said, sipping her own water. “He says it breaks down after a while, but there’s an aftertaste.”

  “That’s one word for it,” Lynn said, twisting the cap back onto her bottle.

  “You drink that,” Lucy said. “Nora says you need to stay hydrated.”

  “I’ve drank so much already I feel like I’m pregnant with a water baby.”

  Lucy crossed her arms and mockingly raised one eyebrow. “Do I need to get Bailey in here?”

  Lynn made a nasty noise in her throat but drank what was left in her bottle and handed it off to Lucy. “Happy?”

  Their fingers brushed as she took the empty from Lynn, and Lucy thought hard before answering. “Yeah . . . actually. I am. This place, it feels good,” Lucy said. Even though Ben’s constant presence grated on her nerves, there was food and water. People had time in their days beyond their duties, playing pool in the rotted out lobbies of the crumbling hotels in the fading daylight. “It’s might not be California, but if it’s got what I wanted . . . why not stay?”

  Lynn settled back into her bed, eyes closed against the glare of the setting sun and the weight of Lucy’s words. “Let me meet this Lander fella before I even consider anything, okay? The only people that cross my path over the course of the day are Bailey and Ben, and it doesn’t seem fair to judge the whole city by those two.”

  “And Nora,” Lucy reminded her, trying not to sound too hopeful. “Nora’s great.”

  “And Nora,” Lynn admitted. She played with the edge of her blanket, focused on the simple task of folding it into a fan, the ridges poking through her fingers. “Let me meet Lander,” she repeated, “and have a little conversation about my gun. We’ll see how that goes.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see,” Lucy agreed. For the first night since their arrival in Vegas, she did not sleep well.

  The heat was oppressive the next day, the air creeping into every cranny of her skin and opening her pores to bring out each drop of hard-fought-for water she’d drunk in the morning. Lucy peered back into the dark of the lobby.

  “You sure you want to go out today?” Lucy asked.

  “It ever cool around here?” Lynn asked, as she shuffled out of the shadows.

  “Not that I’ve noticed.”

  “It’s time for me to do something,” Lynn said, though Lucy noticed the sheen of sweat that popped up on her forehead. “I can’t sit in that room forever, letting you take all the risks.”

  “I’m not so sure there are risks,” Lucy reminded her, as Lynn walked down the strip toward the hotel where Lander and Ben lived and managed the garden. Lynn was out of breath by the time they reached the hotel, and Lucy tried to steer her toward the chair Ben had pulled out of the shadows, still sitting alone in a bright arch of sunlight. Lynn brushed her off, though Lucy could feel her tightly wound muscles shaking even in their brief touch.

  “I’m fine,” Lynn said. “Where to?”

  Lucy led her to the gardens, hoping for a few minutes in which Lynn could absorb the life around her and restore her spirits. But Lander was there, moving quietly among the crop despite his size. He emerged from the tasseling sweet corn, golden fronds tangling in his stubble as he passed.

  “Lynn, hello,” he said, his voice carrying the same reassuring resonance that had lulled Lucy’s fears when they met. “It’s good to meet you, and looking much stronger than I expected.” His eyes moved over her body in a way that made Lucy suspect he wasn’t just appreciating Lynn’s skills of recuperation.

  “Uh-huh,” Lynn said, her interest focused on the corn rather than Lander. “So where’s my gun?”

  “Your gun is somewhere safe.”

  “Safest place for my rifle is in my own hands.”

  Lander spread his hands in front of him, still smiling. “And I’m open to that. Your daughter has shared her abilities with us, and I understand your own lie in a more . . .”

  “Violent,” Lynn provided. “You can say it.”

  “A more violent path, then,” he finished.

  “True enough.”

  “So this is your gift to the world?”

  Lynn’s eyebrows flew up, and Lucy felt herself bracing for the backlash. “I don’t remember ever getting a gift in the first place, or signing up for any kind of exchange.”

  “Did we not give you life?”

  “My mother gave me life; saving it was your choice. The only gift I give is death.”

  Something flickered across his face, and Lander moved closer to Lynn, graceful as a cat. He towered over her, muscles rippling in his arms as he put a massive palm against Lynn’s throat, slim and pale after her illness. He leaned in to whisper to her, “Even now?”

  Lucy breathed quietly in the shadows, tensing herself to spring, should she have to.

  Lynn looked up at Lander, the strength of her voice vibrating his fingers where they lay. “Even now, you big son of a bitch.”

  He burst out laughing, a sound so overpowering not even the livi
ng air of the garden could soak it up, and it rolled out into the lobby to echo off the dark walls and back to them. “I like you,” he declared, and slapped Lynn on the back, which pushed her forward a foot. “I like you a lot.”

  Lynn shot Lucy a look. “Fantastic.”

  His hands fastened onto Lynn’s shoulders, and he beamed into her upturned face. “Then let’s see what you can do.”

  Lynn’s rifle seemed to have missed her as its bullets sang out over the city, dropping targets at growing distances as Lander pointed out signs, car windows, anything that caught his eye. Nora had insisted on following them to the roof when she learned her patient would be climbing steps. Lander had carried Lynn the last hundred or so, cradled in his arms like a doll, while she likewise cradled the rifle.

  It was soon clear exactly how novel gunshots were in Las Vegas. Bailey appeared shortly after the sharp cracks of the bullets, puffing her way to the roof as if she expected an insurrection she would single-handedly end. Her amazement at seeing Lynn with her gun in hand turned to bitterness in seconds flat, and Lucy kept her eye on the big lady, noting how her pinched face contracted even more with every compliment Lander paid to Lynn.

  Ben was hot on Bailey’s heels, his cheeks flushed and any assistance he might’ve been able to bring to the imagined threat spent on the climb itself. He collapsed at Lucy’s feet and began lecturing her on how the long-dead elevators had operated. She made semi-interested noises at the appropriate times, which she’d learned was the only encouragement Ben needed to keep talking.

  Lucy could see people in the streets shading their eyes against the glare and looking toward the gunshots. Lander waved to let them know all was well and continued to point out targets for Lynn, whose frail arms could only hold the rifle for so long. Eventually she lay down prone on the roof but kept shooting. “Lucy,” she called out, “some water.”

  Lucy came forward and dropped next to Lynn to swap the bottle for the rifle, the easy feel of the weapon changing hands so familiar they could’ve been on the roof of their own home.

  “Take a look,” Lynn said, pointing toward the west. “Something new.”

  Lucy leaned into the rifle, her eyelashes brushing against the scope and bringing back memories in a flood. It wasn’t the green fields of Ohio she saw, but the burnt-out streets of Las Vegas, with drifts of sand invading the areas people had surrendered back to the desert. Sprawled in the sun, amid the broken buildings and rusted cars, was a huge cat, its tail twitching with pleasure as it soaked up the rays.

  “Lord above.” Lucy blinked and pulled away from the scope. “How big is that thing?”

  At home there had been a few feral cats, generations removed from their domesticated ancestors and mean as hell. Lucy remembered them as half-starved, hissing balls of fur, nothing like the majestic, well-muscled animal sleeping in the middle of the abandoned city.

  “Big. It’s a mountain lion,” Nora said. “Group of them moved into that side of town years ago.”

  Lucy rolled onto her elbow to look at Nora. “They a problem?”

  “Yes,” Nora said.

  Lynn took the rifle back from Lucy. “Why don’t you run them off?”

  “Because you’re holding the only gun in this whole city,” Lander answered.

  “And it’s time you handed it back,” Bailey added.

  “No, shoot it first.” Nora had come up to the edge of the roof beside Lander, her shadow falling across Lynn and Lucy. “Shoot that one lying out there like she owns the place.”

  To Lucy’s surprise, Lynn looked to Lander before sighting the cat again, and she found her gut twisting at the thought of Lynn’s crosshairs on the unsuspecting creature. The rifle cracked, and in the distance Lucy could see a streak of color as the she-cat fled for cover.

  “Damn,” Lynn said, shading her eyes. “I missed.”

  “Let her have the gun, Lander,” Nora said. Lander was about to object when Nora raised her hand to stop him. “Let her come up here while you or someone else is with her. You know as well as I do there are some buildings we can’t even get to anymore because of the cats and the coyotes. If she picks them off, we can recover all that water.”

  Lander gave Nora a hard look but she didn’t drop her gaze, and her next words were directed at Lynn. “I’ll give you part of my water ration for every cat you drop,” she added, defiant eyes still on Lander.

  Lynn looked between the two of them and unloaded her gun. “No need. I don’t find myself liking the taste of your water.”

  “And why’s that?” Bailey bristled, as if personally insulted.

  “Tastes bad,” Lynn said, handing the unspent bullets over to Lander.

  “Can I be the one to stay up here with her?” Ben spoke up. “I want to see her get some of the coyotes.”

  “Since everyone is assuming she will in fact be shooting,” Lander said, “I’d like to be the one who accompanies her.”

  “And you’re all assuming I’m staying here in the first place,” Lynn said, her words casual but her tone stopping the very breeze.

  Lander’s smile was back, warm and caring. “Where would you go? Even if we gave you water, once you walk out of here there are no guarantees.”

  “You can’t walk anywhere, in your shape,” Nora added. “I wouldn’t let you leave.”

  Lucy saw Lynn bristle. “I’m not sure you letting me is—”

  “We plan on staying until I can find you a good source of freshwater,” Lucy interrupted. “We figure by then Lynn’ll be feeling well enough we can get along and I’ll have repaid our debt to you.”

  “That so?” Lander said, holding out his hand for the rifle. “Well, I hope we can convince you to stay, between now and then.”

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

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

  Twenty-Eight

  “So how bad is it, really?” Lucy asked Nora as they stripped the beds she and Lynn had been using.

  “What do you mean?” Nora asked, all attention on the sheets.

  “If Lander’s willing to give Lynn a gun to free up the route to water you’ve been cut off from, you’ve got limited supplies.”

  Lucy moved her small pile of belongings before tearing the dirty sheet off her bed. The clothes she’d been wearing on the road had been washed and returned to her, folded into a tight square so thin she could feel her thumb rubbing her forefinger through it. Her single boot she’d kept, and it stood sentinel on top of her threadbare clothes, waiting to be moved to the new room Nora had cleared them for now that Lynn no longer needed an IV.

  “I wouldn’t say they’re limited,” Nora answered.

  “You wouldn’t say that ’cause you’re too scared to, or because that’s not the case?” Lynn asked from the corner, where she rested in a wheelchair.

  Nora turned to Lynn, irritation chasing manners from her features. “Look, I don’t know why you’ve got it in your head the whole world is made to harm. We’re good people here, and if saving your life without knowing the first thing about you isn’t proof enough, I don’t know what is.” She snapped the final clean sheet onto Lucy’s bed. Lucy could see her teeth digging into her lower lip as she worked.

  “That’s great and all, but you didn’t exactly answer the question,” Lynn said, but Nora ignored her, lost in her work.

  “That mountain lion was something else,” Lucy said, searching for a different subject. “We’ve got coyotes back home, but I’ve never seen anything like that.”

  “They’re a menace,” Nora said through gritted teeth as she moved Lynn’s bed. Lucy watched as a clean white sheet sailed overhead. “It began with only one or two down in the residential area. Some of the men would see them when they raided the homes.

  “The smaller critters, like skunks and raccoons, came into town shortly after all the water went off. Smelled all the food rotting, guess. Cats followed them, coyotes too. We all hoped enough hum
an activity would keep them away from the strip, but . . .” Nora broke off to tuck the corner of the sheet tightly under the mattress. “We started seeing coyotes in the main roads after a bit, and the lions followed them into the city.”

  Nora stood straight and surveyed the bright white of the empty beds, as clean as if Lynn and Lucy had never been there. “I’ll show you your new room,” she said.

  They went up a floor, the heat rising enough for them to notice. Lucy cracked the balcony door of their new room to see black clouds piling in the distance. “Might rain,” she called to Lynn, but Nora was the one who joined her outside, the long curtains flapping in between them.

  “She’s out of breath,” Nora said. “Your mother is weaker than she looks.”

  “She’ll be fine.”

  Nora came to the railing beside Lucy. “I know you’ve counted on her for a long time, little one. But the type of bodily injury she suffered . . . some people never come back from that, not fully. I don’t know that leaving would be wise. Ever.”

  Lucy nodded, her eyes trained on the darkness rolling in. “I won’t let her leave, if I don’t think she’s able. And if she’s never able, then it is what it is.”

  Nora followed Lucy’s gaze to the storm rolling in and reached for the younger girl’s hand. “I know she doesn’t trust us yet, or our ways, but the fact that Lander would let her touch a gun speaks volumes.”

  Lucy’s spine stiffened, and she took her hand away from Nora’s. “It’s her gun.”

  Nora sighed as a hot wind blew through the city, whipping the curtains around them. A dark streak shot across the road in the face of the storm, and Lucy smiled at the familiar sight of a striped tail. “Never thought I’d miss seeing one of them.”

  “Raccoons give you trouble back home?”

  “Always. I thought Lynn was going to tear her hair out one year over the sweet corn. Stayed up three days in a row picking raccoons off from the roof, but it didn’t matter. She fell asleep for five minutes and it was a done deal. They stripped every stalk.”