Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Asia
“You ready to go, Caitlin?”
She looked at me, then gestured towards the kitchen. It was empty this morning, and I leaned against the cabinet, looking at her.
“Ugh. Not really,” she muttered.
I frowned. “I thought this was the plan. We take stuff to town, which gives you a chance to plan out your solo trip and keeps Christopher away from here.”
“Yeah.”
“What’s going on, Caitlin? You said yourself you wanted to get this over with.”
She sighed. “I do. I hate going to that place, though. Not sure I want to do it twice back-to-back.”
“You and me both.”
She nodded, then looked at me. “But you’re right. We want to keep them away from here.” She gestured toward the window. “Take Jack.”
“Why? I can just do it myself.”
She laughed. “Yeah, right. Like he would let that happen. Besides, if he’s here, he needs to contribute.”
“He contributes plenty,” I said. And he did, but that wasn’t the reason why I’d jumped to Jack’s defense. The thought of being in a car with Jack, of managing him and Christopher and everything else and getting both of us out unscathed was not one that appealed.
“Besides, Christopher needs to see him,” Caitlin said.
“Christopher’s already seen him.”
“Yeah. But you and I both know the best way to get a point across is to hammer it home. So Christopher needs to see him again. Needs to know that we aren’t afraid of him.”
“We aren’t afraid of him,” I said.
“Sure, but he doesn’t know that. He just sees an old man, a couple of women, and a teenage boy.”
“Elliot’s here, too.”
Caitlin smiled. “Yeah, but Elliot’s no Jack. And Christopher needs to know that we’re not completely defenseless.”
“So you just want me to parade him around like a trophy or a warhorse or something?”
“Yes, exactly. You have resources at your disposal. You use them.”
Something about that rankled. Maybe it was the truth of it. Or maybe, though I didn’t want to admit it, it was the idea of reducing Jack that way. But didn’t I do the exact same thing?
“Plus,” Caitlin said, “Jack goes and Christopher is riled up. Then I show up, all weak and helpless, and he’ll be much more likely to let something slip.”
Sound reasoning, but I cut to the quick. “So you’re saying no?”
“Yeah, I’m saying no. I’m not going. Take Jack instead.”
I studied her. Her expression was sharp, shrewd. The face I recognized from the courthouse. The one that never worked on me. Her reasoning was convincing, but with Caitlin, it was always more than one thing.
“And I have inventory to catalog,” she added.
“Caitlin, you can catalog the inventory in your sleep. What’s the real reason?”
She sighed. “If I go with you, I’ll have to take watch tonight, and you know I hate night watch.”
I stared at her for a moment, then smiled. “At least we get to the bottom of it.”
She gave me a tentative smile back, but then turned serious. “Look, I don’t know…never mind. He’s here. Might as well take advantage. You know my plan makes sense.”
I nodded and stared out the window as Caitlin left. Jack was out in the yard with Miles. They weren’t talking, but there was an ease, a relaxation, in the way they interacted. Watching them was almost enough to make me think that everything was all right.
It wasn’t, though. And it never would be again.
So fucking cheerful, Asia.
I shook my head, pulling myself out of my maudlin thoughts, and went to find Jack.
“I need you to come to town with me to drop off supplies.”
“Supplies, huh?” He looked down at me, his head cocked. “Why are you asking me to go?”
“I’m not asking you to go. This is all Caitlin’s idea.”
“And why is that?”
“Look, are you going or not?” I said, tapping my foot against the dry ground. When I realized what I was doing, I stopped the movement and stood firm, staring at him.
“I’ll answer that question when I understand why.”
“Jesus, Jack, can you just—”
“Just what? Follow orders like a good little soldier?”
“Jack, are you going or not?”
“Yeah. I’ll go. While we’re on the way over, you can tell me two things.”
“What two things?”
“Why we’re doing this. And what Caitlin sent me for.”
“Fine. Be ready in ten.”
“Weapons?” he asked.
“Yeah. I keep a gun in the glove box, a knife on my waist, but I try not to take too much.”
“Because you’re worried Christopher will take them.”
I shrugged, though I was anything but nonchalant. I just didn’t feel like arguing with him. “Be ready to go in ten.”
I excused myself and went to pee for probably the fifteenth time today. The book said this was normal, but it was getting old. When I came back, Jack was at the truck waiting. He had his gun at his side along with two rifles.
“Did you not hear the part about not taking too much?”
“I heard it,” he said.
I just shook my head. We loaded three gallons of Elliot’s vinegar, some of the tomatoes from the bush, and half of a ham.
“I thought I said no weapons,” I muttered. “You know what, never mind.”
We got into the car, Jack insisting on being the one to drive.
“I still don’t know why I couldn’t drive,” I said.
“Because you’re going to keep your eyes peeled and focus on telling me what’s going on.”
“Caitlin wanted you to come because she thought it would be good for Christopher to see you here.”
“Christopher’s already seen me.”
I ignored the fact that I made the same point. “I know, but Caitlin says it’s important.”
“You listen to Caitlin now?”
“She’s been here,” I responded.
Jack didn’t take the bait. “And why are you delivering him your shit on a platter?”
“Because it’s better to give it to him and keep up the pretense than have him on the farm. Less dangerous that way.”
Jack huffed. “You’re giving in to him. It’s gonna bite you in the ass.”
“Eventually everything will, but for now it’s working. Up ahead,” I said, pointing at trucks gathered in the road.
“He doesn’t let you come into town?”
“I haven’t tried. But he has eyes on the road into town at all times. I’ve heard rumors of Christopher turning people away.”
“That’s different,” Jack said.
“Yeah, it is. His father loved showing that place off but Christopher is not his father.”
We slowed to a stop and got out at the blockade.
Eight men flanked Christopher, but they and their guns weren’t what I paid attention to. Instead, I stared off to the side of the road at a figure there.
It was Mr. Bailey. He had to be seventy by now and looked every day of it. He was tied up to a tree with a chain wrapped around his stomach, a long brown dunce cap on his head. The word thief—spelled T-H-E-I-F—was spray-painted on his white shirt in red paint.
I tried not to stare, but every time the man whimpered, my gaze turned to him. I wanted to help him.
I couldn’t.
“Asia, I’m surprised to see you here,” Christopher said, though we both knew that was bullshit.
“Well, I hope it’s a good surprise. I wanted to bring some things that might be useful.”
Christopher snapped his fingers and four of the men peeled off and unloaded the truck. Christopher kept his eyes on me, but catalogued every item his men removed.
“Thank you for dropping these things off, Asia,” he finally said as the men walked away.
“I appreciate you being a part of this community.” He glanced over at Mr. Bailey.
“Something other people seem to not want to be. Because this”—he said, pointing at one of the bottles of vinegar—“sharing is what survival is all about. We don’t take from each other.
We work together as a collective. Figure out what everyone needs.
No one puts themselves above someone else. ”
I murmured noncommittally, then looked at Jack. Christopher looked at him, too.
“Glad you’re still here, Jack. Maybe we should set up a time to talk. See how you can be of assistance to this community, too. That is, if you plan on staying.”
Jack said nothing. Christopher stared at him for a long moment, then finally nodded.
“Next time,” he said with a tip of his imaginary hat.
I turned, trying to ignore Mr. Bailey’s whimpers, and got back into the car. Christopher and the others did, too, and drove off.
“We should help him,” I whispered.
Jack shook his head. “We can’t.”
I wanted to argue, but I knew it was true. We drove off. “That was Mr. Bailey,” I said as Jack guided the car down the road. “He taught history at the high school.”
“Well, I guess now he’s just a T-H-E-I-F,” Jack said, shaking his head with disgust. “People letting themselves get bullied by a petty tyrant who can’t even fucking spell.”
I sighed. “They’re scared, Jack. You know what they say about fear, right? What it does to the mind.”
“I do.”
I shook my head. “But I guess sci-fi novel platitudes don’t survive contact with reality.”
He shrugged. “I guess not.”