Chapter 8
I’m washing up after morning chores when Poppy knocks on my bedroom door.
Swinging it open and seeing who it is, I ask, “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I think so. Can I come in?”
“Of course.” I step out of the doorway to let her in.
No one but paying customers have ever been in my room before, but I’ve been worried about Poppy ever since she was raped. She’s been much quieter and more subdued than she was before. So my worry outweighs any oddness about her wanting to come into my room.
There’s nowhere to sit but the side of the bed, so I gesture her onto it, perching on the edge of the mattress beside her. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
“Not really. I mean, I’ve just been thinking a lot. Ever since… it happened. And I decided… I decided…” Her pretty, round face is downcast. “I’ve decided I want to go home.”
I don’t know a lot about Poppy’s background, but I do know she has a largish family that’s still holding on to a homestead not far away.
From what I’ve put together from random comments, she got in a fight with her father and left home, which is how she ended up working here.
“Okay. I think that makes sense, especially after what happened. Is your… Your home is safe for you?”
“Yeah. It’s safe. I feel kind of stupid making such a fuss about it now. But my dad got really bossy and overprotective after Impact. That’s why we fought all the time. That’s why I left.”
“Well, I can understand that. Both why you left and why he might feel like he had to be so controlling. It’s… it’s a scary world now.”
“I know it is. I should’ve…” She sighs and shakes her head. “I keep telling myself I didn’t know better, but it feels like I got punished for being stupid.”
“No! No, no, no, don’t ever let yourself believe that.
What happened wasn’t because of anything you did.
Sometimes I want to blame myself too because I was the one who riled him up by rejecting him.
And Cade could blame himself for embarrassing him in public.
But none of us are to blame for what he did. Only he was.”
Poppy’s brown eyes are wide and earnest. “I do believe that. I mean, I try to keep reminding myself it’s true. But I still… I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“That’s perfectly understandable. Since you have another safe option, there’s no reason why you have to be here. So if you want to go home, you should go home. I bet your folks will be thrilled to have you back.”
“I hope… I mean, I think so. But I’m scared to tell Nell.”
“You don’t have to be scared. She’ll get it. She’ll let you go without any trouble. She always has other girls waiting for jobs here, so she’ll be able to fill your bed with no downtime.”
“Okay. That’s what I was hoping. Would you… I mean, would you mind coming with me when I tell her?”
“I’ll be happy to. And I can even walk you back home if you want so you don’t have to make the trip alone.”
“I thought about that, but then you’ll have to make the return walk all by yourself.”
“Oh yeah. Maybe Danny can—”
“I thought about him too, but he has outhouse duty today.”
“We can find someone to come with us. I bet Pete will do it. The three of us can make the walk to your home, and then I’ll have someone with me on the way back.”
“That would be great. Thank you. You don’t think… you don’t think I’m a loser who’s giving up, do you?”
“What? No! No way. This life isn’t for everyone. And I don’t think it’s a first choice for any of us. You have another reasonable option. You have a family who loves you. Even if your dad isn’t perfect, in a world like this, it’s better to be with people you love.”
“In any world.”
I cock my head to one side. “What?”
“In any world. In any world, it’s better to be with people you love.”
“Y-yeah.” My throat has tightened up.
Not since my grandfather died have I had anything like that.
Nell accepts the news of Poppy leaving with her typical no-nonsense calm, telling the girl to stay safe and then immediately making plans to choose her replacement.
Poppy is glad the conversation is over, and while she’s in her room packing, I wander toward the storage building in the backyard to see if I can track down Pete.
He’s there, sorting through a full crate of liquor.
“Look what Bella’s crew scavenged for us,” he says, grinning at me over his shoulder. “It’s all top-shelf.”
“Fantastic.” I come over to admire the labels of the bottles he’s been pulling out from the crate. “What a windfall.”
“Nell’s going to add another level to the entry for people who want to pay for the high-end stuff.”
“Good plan. I bet she’s as pleased as punch, as my grandfather used to say. Are you going to be busy with this all day?”
“Nah. I was just admiring the goods. You got something you need me to do?”
“Poppy’s leaving.”
“I heard tell.”
“She wants me to walk her back to her family’s home, and she doesn’t want me to return all by myself.”
“You definitely can’t be doing that. I’ll tag along, if you can put up with my company.”
“You were my first choice.”
“Good for me.” He’s giving his laid-back smile as he carefully places the bottles back in the crate. “Just tell me when you’re leaving.”
“About thirty minutes? She said it’s about a two-hour hike from here, so if we leave soonish, we’ll easily be back at least an hour before opening.”
“I’ll be ready.” Then he adds, his voice muffled because he’s leaning over into the crate. “Maybe Marsha will pack us a lunch.”
The three of us are ready a half hour later, setting out in the gray drizzle for Poppy’s family homestead.
It’s not raining hard yet, so that’s something. The sky is ominous, and the air feels damp. A sprinkle hits my face every now and then. But we don’t get soaked immediately, so I’m not complaining about the weather.
The first part of the hike is easy, since the landscape is only gently hilly, and we follow a former state road that’s in fairly good condition. It doesn’t get much traffic anymore, so it’s a good route for walking.
Poppy is in better spirits than I’ve seen her in a long time, and Pete is always good company. I have a decent time until we have to turn off the road onto a gravel road that leads to their place.
It’s on low ground and has obviously been repeatedly flooded for the past year. It’s more like traipsing through a bog than walking on a road.
I’m glad I wore my hiking boots instead of my old sneakers because my feet are muddy all the way up to my ankles by the time we get to Poppy’s home.
Her family is thrilled to see her. Her mother and sisters come running out to hug her before we even reach the front walk. And her father is close behind, waiting hesitantly to see if she’ll hug him too.
She does. It’s really quite touching. I’m glad she has a good family. I’m glad she’s back where she belongs.
Pete and I get thanked a dozen times and have to refuse gifts of food and clothing before we’re able to leave.
Poppy hugs me before I leave.
I haven’t been hugged since my grandfather died, and it makes me weirdly emotional.
But finally, not even an hour after noon, Pete and I are on our way back.
It’s then the rain gets worse.
We’ve been trudging through the return trip, soaked to the skin and muddy all the way up to our knees, for an hour and a half, when Pete puts a hand on my arm to stop me.
“What is it?” I ask, blinking through the sheets of cold rain in an attempt to see the road in the distance.
“Road is washed out up there. In the dip. Do you see?”
It takes some squinting and swiping streams of water out of my eyes, but I finally manage to see what he sees.
The road, which was wet but mostly clear a few hours ago, is now completely flooded in the valley between two small hills.
“Shit. There isn’t a creek or river anywhere close. Where is all this water coming from?”
“It’s everywhere now. Coming in all the way from the coast. Doesn’t take much water anymore for it to flood land that’s never been flooded before.” He peers through the gray mist and raindrops. “I don’t think it’s too deep. We’ll have to wade through it.”
“Great. Why the hell not? We’re already totally soaked.”
I’m trying not to grumble, but it’s hard. I don’t have Pete’s even-tempered resilience, allowing the world to simply slide off his back.
And having to wade through a flooded road in a world that’s gone to shit really sucks.
Pete is right. The water is moving quickly, running like a newly created creek across the old pavement, but it’s only about a foot deep.
We can walk through it. It’s not easy, and it’s slow. But step by heavy step, we get through the flooded section.
We’re almost to the visible pavement again when I step into a pothole I can’t see. My ankle twists, and down I go, falling backward onto my butt in a foot of cold, dirty water.
The good thing about Pete is that he never gets urgent. He never reacts like anything is a crisis. Something about his manner makes even the worst things seem not so bad.
He turns back and extends a hand to me. “Bad luck. But you were already soaked, so I guess you can’t get any wetter.”
If it was anyone but Pete—anyone who acted concerned, asked if I was hurt, fussed over me—I probably would have burst into tears.
But it’s Pete, and he’s always fine, and so maybe I am too.
I reach up to take his hand, letting him pull me out of the water and to my feet. Then I test out my turned ankle, relieved when it doesn’t hurt.
“No damage?” he asks, watching me get my balance.
“No damage,” I tell him. “Except to my ego.”
He chuckles while I shake myself off like a dog. I’m wearing jeans and a waterproof pullover with a hood, but I might as well be wearing a bathing suit, as little as the clothes are doing to keep me dry.
“Egos are expendable. We’re out of the flood now, and we only have another mile or two to go.”
“Thank God.”
“You’re a tough little thing. My daughters would’ve been in tears an hour back.”
I fall into step with him again, rubbing water out of my face for the millionth time. “I didn’t know you had daughters. How many?”
“Two.” He’s staring ahead, and his tone shifts as he adds, “But that was a long time ago.”
We’re approaching town, and I’m looking forward to getting back, getting dry, and then seeing Cade again this evening when we hear a vehicle on the road behind us.
It could be anything. Gas isn’t readily available anymore, but a lot of folks stockpiled it after Impact. And it’s still salvageable in abandoned, rural areas.
Working vehicles aren’t as ubiquitous as they were before the world fell apart, but they’re still around.
Nell has teams of scavengers that travel around and bring new supplies to the Pub. Several locals have farming vehicles they still use. And there are always folks traveling through.
So there’s nothing to panic about. Pete and I do immediately move off the road, but I’m not even nervous as I peer down it to see who’s approaching.
Maybe it’s someone we know.
Maybe it’s someone who will let us hitch a ride for the remaining distance.
I’m squinting through rain—the mist is so heavy now it’s as thick as fog—when I see two large trucks approaching.
They trigger alarm bells in the back of my mind for no reason I could explain.
“Get down,” Pete clips out. “Down on the ground.” He puts a hand on my head to push me downward, although I start moving at his first instruction.
There are no trees around the road to keep us out of sight. Our only hope for hiding is flattening ourselves in the long grass.
The ground is as soaked as everything else in the world. It’s soft and spongy and gross as I lie prostrate on my belly. Pete is right beside me with an arm over my back.
“Don’t move,” he whispers.
I wasn’t planning to move. I’ve never seen Pete so urgent before. It’s genuinely terrifying. I have no idea what he saw coming, but I’m praying whoever it is won’t see us.
The engines are loud, and they’re also blaring music. Some sort of Southern rock. I’m holding myself perfectly still—even holding my breath—as they get closer.
Then I hear voices, and they’re the last thing I want to hear.
“I’m sure I saw someone up this way. Keep your eyes peeled.”
“Isn’t that whorehouse coming up soon? We could use another bitch to entertain us.”
A shuddering has started inside, but I fight to keep it from shaking my body. I have no idea how Pete knew what kind of people these were, but his instinct to hide was exactly right.
“Check to the right there. I’m sure there was something.”
I feel Pete’s body tense up beside me.
“There they are. On the ground there, tryin’ to hide.”
“Run, Jill,” Pete bites out. “Away from the road. Fast as you can. Right now.” He pulls his pistol out of his holster.
If my own fear wasn’t guiding me, his icy, cold voice would have done so. I scramble to my feet and run away from the road as fast as I can in the soggy ground.
I used to run track. My legs are long, and my body moves that way naturally. But no one can run quickly in conditions like this.
At least not quickly enough.
There are gunshots. Pete is shooting, trying to give me cover.
Giving me a chance to get away.
But there’s a different sort of engine at the forefront of the sound behind me now. A quick look behind shows me what it is.
An ATV. Throwing up mud and water as it zooms after me.
There’s no way I can outrun it. No one could. The guy on it reaches me, jumps off, tackles me to the wet ground.
Then he has me.
The shooting has stopped.
And Pete… Well, Pete is probably dead.