Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
Asia
“Maybe today…” Miles said.
Lourdes cut him a sharp look. “Hermanito…”
“Maybe,” I responded.
The same conversation we’d had for the last three mornings, one that got more desperate, less believable, every time.
But I wasn’t a quitter. I’d keep up the facade, if only for Miles’s sake.
Not my own.
Definitely not my own.
The shock of those gunshots, the memory of Jack’s rough command, all of it bombarded me at once. This morning, I’d walked the fences. Not looking for Jack, certainly not expecting him. It was beautiful, peaceful, the kind of mornings I lived for.
And my chest was clenched so tight, I thought it might explode.
That was how Elliot found me, bent at the waist trying to force in one breath. Then force it out. I barely heard the pliers as they fell to the ground. Was only vaguely aware of Elliot at my side, smacking my back and commanding me to breathe.
Even now, my face burned with shame as I remembered looking at him, seeing the worry in his eyes.
I grabbed the pliers and walked away without a word, did the rest of my chores, met Miles and Lourdes for breakfast. Did what I did every other day. Because nothing changed.
These people—the ones still left—this farm needed me.
And Jack was fine.
I was fine.
Everything was fine.
I scooped the oatmeal into my mouth. Didn’t grimace, didn’t even gag, just swallowed it down, the lumpy, gummy mass passing from my tongue down my throat, down my esophagus, into my stomach. I didn’t taste it, didn’t smell it. It didn’t matter. The baby needed the nutrients, and now that I—
I dropped my spoon, the clatter against the bowl threatening to shatter something inside of me.
I looked at Lourdes. She smiled. “Remember that time Caitlin made the oatmeal?”
I tried to smile back, knowing that all that was on my face was a pained grimace. Still, I spoke. “First, last, and only time. How could I forget? I think we lost three days’ worth.”
Miles chuckled. “Yeah, but me and Elliot used that stuff to seal up some cracks in the chicken coop.”
“I can hear her now. ‘See, at least it didn’t go to waste.’” I mimicked her, and Lourdes and Miles laughed.
Real laughs. Short-lived, but they were there.
I pushed out of my chair, the feet scraping against the floor. “I’m going to mop in here, and then we start the rounds, okay?” I said.
Miles looked at Lourdes, seeming to consider, but then nodded. “Yeah.”
It didn’t go according to plan.
Midmorning, my heart lurched at the sound of an approaching vehicle. Dropped just as fast when I realized Jack would never show up like that.
Which meant Christopher.
I was in the back yard. I pulled off my work gloves and walked through the kitchen and living room towards the front door.
“Wait here,” Miles said, his brow furrowed.
“Miles, what are you…?”
“Please, Miss Newman, just wait here.” His eyes were pleading.
And I was weak, so fucking weak. Leaning on a child, letting someone else handle my responsibilities…it went against everything I believed, who I was.
My feet stayed rooted to the spot as Miles walked onto the porch and watched as the truck rolled to a stop, the front bumper almost flush with the porch stairs.
I heard doors slam.
Christopher had backup.
“Miss Newman is asleep,” Miles said.
“She doesn’t need to be awake. We’ll just take a few things and be on our way,” Christopher said.
My feet remembered how to move when I heard a shotgun rack.
“We don’t have anything to spare. We need those things,” Miles said.
“Miles…” My voice was low, urgent.
He didn’t look at me.
“How do you know Asia?” Christopher asked. “A client of hers? She get you out of some charges or something?”
“None of your business, cerdo,” Miles spat.
“Miles!”
When I stopped next to Miles, I saw Lourdes staring at him, her expression a sick-making mix of fear, pride, and anger.
Christopher smiled, then chuckled, but his eyes were hard, glinting with insanity. Did I miss it before, or was it new?
It didn’t matter.
He pulled a handkerchief out of his front pocket.
Unfolded it. Then refolded it and put it back in his pocket.
“You know, part of a community is making sure that everyone does their part, and that people learn their lesson. Keep this up, son, and I’m gonna have to arrest you.
” He stepped closer to the porch. Closer to Miles. “To protect my community.”
“You’re not taking him anywhere,” Lourdes said. Her eyes were burning now, fierce.
I stepped past Miles and onto the porch, “Let’s all calm down.”
“Morning, Miss Newman.” Christopher paused to look at the sky, one eyebrow quirked at the sun, which burned high, leaving no doubt that morning was long past. “We are calm, Asia,” Christopher said, “but I thought you of all people understood community.”
“Of course I do, Christopher. Uncle Levi, this town, your father, even you have shown me that.”
I stepped off the porch, trying not to grimace when mud from the truck’s bumper smeared on my pants.
It would take at least half an hour to get that off on the wash board.
But maybe I should find a clothing store to scavenge.
Conscious consumption was something I prided myself on but handwashing laundry was hell on my back and would only get worse as—
“Well, I’m glad those lessons seeped in.”
I whipped my head to Christopher, blinked, forcing myself to focus on what he said.
“But there’s word and deed, Asia, and they aren’t the same thing.”
“Of-of course not,” I said, smiling at Christopher as I walked towards the side of the house. “I understand that. It’s just, since, you know—”
I glanced at him and saw no emotion at all as he shook his head. “That recent ugliness. Unfortunate mess, but we both took losses. And you losing two…Did you lose Jack or did he just hightail it out of here?”
I let out a brittle laugh. “I may never know. Anyway, here are some things you might find useful.”
Christopher pushed me aside and opened the twenty-gallon plastic storage tub I left on the side of the house.
“What do we have here?” He muttered as he rummaged through the tub. “Salt, a package of bandages, bleach—what’s this? Board games, books, mineral water?”
“Yes, I know the kids in town must get underfoot sometimes. The books and games might distract them. And the water…” I trailed off and gathered myself. “I mean, doesn’t hurt to have if you don’t have time to boil or filter.”
Christopher frowned as he looked at the bin. “One gift of this fallen world is keeping this trash out of our kids’ minds.” He threw the books and games on the ground and put the lid back on the tote. “But I guess we can make use of the rest.”
He gestured around at the farm. “You think you can handle this?”
Fuck no, but I’ll never say that to you.
I smiled so big my cheeks hurt. “We’re all just doing the best we can.”
He smacked my shoulder. “Keep it up, and you might survive.”
My shoulder stung, and as I watched Christopher walk away, I couldn’t help but think of Jack. If he were here, he would have cut off Christopher’s hand and fed it to him.
But Jack wasn’t here.
I walked back to the house.