8. Eden #4
He catches my expression, and his face softens.
“ We couldn’t do it. It’s one thing to kill someone in combat, it’s a whole different thing to execute civs in cold blood, even ones who attacked us first. We’re not murderers.
” Rubbing the back of his neck, he sighs.
“ We exiled them. Don’t know if you know this about Rangers , but we get pretty extensive surveillance training.
We made it clear they weren’t allowed within fifty miles of Bristlebrook , and we spent weeks setting up motion sensor cameras, remote controlled cameras, the works, just in case they came back. ”
“ And did they?” I ask.
Lucky shook his head. “ We’ve seen others, and we stopped them before they got too close. But no, they never came back.”
I nod, thinking that over, and we watch the animals in silence for a moment.
“ What happened to the others? The families who were here,” I ask softly.
Lucky shrugs one shoulder, but the movement is slow, like he’s become too heavy to shift.
“ It all fell apart after that. About half of the remaining civs decided to leave—the two families, actually. Said that we couldn’t protect them, that we wouldn’t do what needed to be done.
They wanted to try to set up somewhere themselves.
” His voice is a little bitter at that. “ Dom took it pretty hard. But most of the women stayed, and a couple men. It worked for a while, but we had problems. People didn’t want to pull their weight.
Jealousy . People hoarding supplies. Then there was everything with Heather , and the drama with Thomas , of course. ”
Thomas ? And was this the woman they mentioned earlier? The last woman they had here? As casually as I can, I ask, “ Heather ?”
Finally , a smile touches Lucky’s mouth again. “ Nah -uh. That’s a whole other story. And not mine to tell. You’ll need to earn that one.”
I pout, humor lightening my mood again, and he chuckles.
“ Whose story is it then?” I venture.
“ Dom’s , mostly. Kind of Beau’s .” He sobers again. “ Look , I will say that there was a lot of drama. The fallout of that relationship hit our whole group pretty hard, burned away a lot of trust. So just go easy on us for a while, okay? They’ll see you’re different soon enough.”
Well , that isn’t confusing at all.
I look at him sideways. “ How could you know that already? That I’m different to Heather .”
Lucky laughs then. “ Oh , sweetheart, you couldn’t be more different.”
“ Jaykob said—”
“ Ah , don’t listen to him. Jayk can’t see past his own prejudice. The only thing you have in common with Heather is that you both talk kind of fancy.”
I shake my head, disbelieving. Fancy ? If he only knew. Maybe they aren’t seeing through me as easily as I thought they were.
“ Hey .” Lucky nudges me with his shoulder, drawing my attention.
“ I want you to know, we have helped people over the years. We keep an eye out for anyone who needs help, but it really isn’t that simple.
Most groups want nothing to do with us. Anyone who’s survived this long is careful—they don’t exactly run our way.
” He lifts a brow. “ And if they do, they’re not usually the type we want to bring home for supper, if you get my meaning.
If there are women like you around, they must avoid us like the plague. ”
Didn’t I do exactly that? I saw several groups of men over the years and not once did I work up the courage to go up to any of them.
Or perhaps I just had the sense not to.
There were signs that other women survived—tampons raided from supermarket aisles, diapers depleted—but my actual sightings of them were few and far between. Those large packs of families and soft, smiling people disappeared years ago.
Lucky grimaces, taking in my expression, as if the confirmation hurts him.
“ Beau’s stitched people up while we’ve been out, we’ve traded news or supplies, but most of them have their own plans now.
They trust their own, that’s it. And it’s not like we’re going to point signs to where we are for just anyone to find, either.
” He looks me in the eye. “ It’s not as easy as wanting to help. People have to accept it.”
It reminds me of Jasper telling me family is who I choose to make it.
We both fall silent, lost to our own thoughts.
“ Have I scared you off already?” I can feel Lucky’s gaze asking me to understand. He’s clearly trying to keep his tone light but failing spectacularly.
And in that moment, I see it in him. There’s a melancholy under his brightness that I feel in my bones.
I wonder what causes someone as warm as Lucky to burn so quietly cold.
I wonder if any of the others notice.
Hesitating , I look up at him. “ It’s a lot. It’s all been a lot. But I’m not leaving until I have time to take it all in.”
I don’t want to leave at all. The forest is a frightening place to live alone, and it’s hard to draw boundaries for myself when all I want to do is hide under my new silk sheets and read and eat delicious cheese and claim cuddles and let them erase the last four years from my mind.
But I need to be tougher than that. Experience has taught me that gift horses should not only be looked in the mouth, but examined for fleas and attitude problems and secret, nasty packages strapped to their saddles.
Just because I want it, it doesn’t mean I get to have it.
And it certainly doesn’t mean I’ll get to keep it.
Relief touches his features. He blows out a breath then holds out his hand. “ Come on, then. Let’s head back inside and you can get some rest.”
He walks me back and lets me go when we reach the house. I walk up to my room, my mind tripping over a dozen stumbling thoughts. I’m readying myself to sink into another deep, pillow-soft sleep when I spot a book by my door.
Bending , I pick it up. It’s a glorious hardcover of Little Women . I let myself into my room as I examine it and curl up on one of the soft armchairs by the dying orange coals of the fire. I crack open the front cover and a note slips out.
This family of ours is messy. Complicated . But try to be brave, Eden . Our pieces may fit together better than one might think.
— Jasper
I stare at the note for a long time before I finally set it down and turn the first page of my present.
It’s smooth and comfortable in my hands, just like the hundreds of books that have been my only friends for too many years now.
It has a familiar weight, and a familiar smell, and it’s enough to make me emotional after such a flood of unfamiliar things today.
Did Jasper see this in me today, while we were alone in that abyss together? How quickly he worked out just what I needed.
The next page slides between my fingers in a soft caress, and I read until day fades into shadows, and long into the night.