Lynn took a shuddering breath and tried to find a buoy in the onslaught. She opened her mouth in the hopes a defense would form in the chaos that was her brainpan.

  “Walk away, Lynn.” Dani pointed the way she’d come, then dropped her hand. “That’s what you’re good at.”

  Lynn froze.

  Dani turned and walked off. She squared her shoulders, tilted her head up, and gripped the spear tightly.

  Skeever hurried to catch up, but she ignored him. He looked back at Lynn, his tail stuck between his legs.

  Lynn was too crushed to register him or anything other than a hollow pit of darkness inside of her. It spread like burning acid from her stomach all the way to her fingertips, toes, and most of all her head. Dani’s words reverberated inside of her skull, etching themselves into her very soul. Panic rushed up. It turned her body from ice-cold to glowing hot in a matter of seconds. She opened her mouth to call Dani back or to explain more, but Dani’s dismissal had been absolute.

  Skeever trotted back and pressed against her.

  For a second, Lynn was unable to formulate a natural response to his attention seeking. Then she dropped to a knee and wrapped him in her arms. Selfish. She was hugging him to make him feel better just as much as to make herself feel better.

  He bucked against her as he tried to lick her face and then chew her wrist, but she restrained him and inhaled his scent. His love and familiarity strengthened her enough to watch Dani as she navigated around the upturned cars and heat cracks in the road. Watching her walk away hurt in a way that had nothing to do with her blasted ego or her guilt.

  This was not how it should have gone. Lynn had planned her escape. She’d had it all thought out. Changing her mind and coming back for Dani had been noble—she’d been trying to save her! But Dani didn’t need saving—or maybe she did and she just didn’t know it? She groaned in frustration and dropped her head to Skeever’s back. Her head hurt. Her soul hurt. Her heart hurt. She felt as if she’d just wrestled a tiger and lost.

  Lynn questioned every single one of her actions and thoughts. Who was right about her? Lynn herself or Dani and the Homesteaders? They didn’t know her better than she did, did they? But they’d seen right through her plan—and Dani had played her perfectly; she’d tried to keep Lynn with her, but when it became obvious Lynn would leave, she’d made her tell Dani everything she needed to know.

  Then a thought hit her: Dani could have gone back to the Homestead to gather the group after Lynn left. She would have been much safer then. Why hadn’t she? Lynn didn’t buy the story about Kate not taking her back for a second now. Did she really believe she would be able to get Richard’s body alone? That she had enough skills to survive whatever came her way? And if so, was that boastful stupidity or reality?

  Dani got farther and farther away.

  Was she really that good? She’d utterly failed to convey that level of skill with the wolves. Had she been playing that? Lynn couldn’t imagine Dani would have stood by and let Lynn get killed. Even if she’d wanted to, Lynn hadn’t yet told her where Richard’s body was, so Dani had still needed her.

  Lynn closed her eyes for a few seconds. She tried to get her thoughts to slow down. It was impossible to keep up with the unending stream of images and conversations up for review, and they didn’t get her answers. Get a grip! She couldn’t sit here in the middle of the road, clutch a dog, and hope that reality would start to make sense on its own.

  It wouldn’t.

  Which way do I go? Back the way she’d come was the most logical route. It was safer—physically and emotionally—but it would also prove Dani right. Lynn swallowed. Dani wasn’t right. Yes, she had planned to ditch her, but Dani was most certainly wrong about her personality. Then there was this morning’s realization too—that she needed someone.

  After Dani, then.

  And then what? Force herself upon her? Tell her she wasn’t leaving, and risk a spear to the gut? Lynn sighed.

  She stood from her crouch and walked after Dani. Maybe she would just keep her distance for a while. She could always catch up with her when Dani made camp.

  She looked up to the darkening sky. Or when the heavens open up.

  Dani, of course, noticed her following almost right away.

  She glanced back, then turned and walked backward a few paces before turning back around. After a few more steps, she came to a halt. She turned again and crossed her arms—and the length of the spear—in front of her chest as a barrier—or a warning.

  Lynn stifled a sigh and crossed the distance with her head held high.

  This time, Skeever stayed with her instead of trying his luck with Dani.

  “What are you doing?” Dani arched a brow.

  Lynn stared intently at her shoes. “I don’t exactly have a plan right now.”

  “You’re following me, in the middle of nowhere, and you don’t know why?”

  Lynn looked up to discover that Dani’s other eyebrow had joined her first, high on her forehead. “Pretty much.”

  “You’re nuts.” There wasn’t as much loathing in Dani’s tone as Lynn had expected.

  “Probably.” She took a breath. “You’re wrong about me—or at least I think you’re wrong. And I want to prove it.”

  “Why?”

  Lynn groaned and deflated a little. “Could you stop asking me all these questions I don’t have answers to?”

  “No.” A tiny glimmer of amusement tugged at the corner of Dani’s mouth. “I think I’m entitled to some answers or at least to asking the questions that you should be able to answer.”

  Lynn sighed and patted her thigh with her tomahawk. “I guess…” She thought about the why of it all. “Because of what I said before.” She shrugged. “I liked it better when we traveled together, which, I guess, means I like you. And I don’t want you to think of me like…that.”

  “Like what?”

  “You’re going to make me repeat it?”

  “Damn right.”

  Lynn groaned and threw up her arms. “Fine! Like…a selfish person. Like a predator.”

  Dani’s shoulders sagged a little, which made her posture go from downright hostile to highly reserved. “Go on.”

  Lynn frowned. What did I miss? Those were the big ones, right? She went through the whole conversation again. “I’m not a victim? And I should never have planned to get you stranded in the Wilds.”

  Dani nodded slowly. “Are you just saying that because you think that’s what I want to hear, or do you mean it?”

  Lynn hesitated. “I…don’t see myself the way you see me.” She diverted her gaze to find relief from Dani’s intense stare. “But if that’s the way you see me, that’s what I want to change. Maybe that means changing myself, or maybe it means proving myself to you. I don’t know. Either way, I need you present to do it.”

  Dani inspected her again and waited to speak until Lynn met her eyes. “This is selfish again, you know? I have to stick around so you can feel better about yourself? Selfish.”

  Lynn groaned. “Come on! Give me a break! That’s not fair! First you rip into me and then, when I try to make amends for all the stuff I did, you tell me it’s selfish? Don’t you want me to make it up to you even a little?”

  Dani’s eyes, which had softened for a moment, closed off again. “I don’t see what the use is, Lynn. You messed up, but you don’t owe me anything. You never did. You owed something to human decency, maybe, but it’s not like I didn’t see your bullshit coming from a mile away. Yeah, I’m angry, and I’m also a little hurt, but mostly I’m just really done with you.”

  Lynn flinched. The metaphorical knife Dani had previously thrust in her gut twisted to inflict more pain. She swallowed it down. “Fair enough.”

  Dani sighed and checked around her before she took in Lynn again. “One night.”

  “What?” Lynn frowned, but her heartbeat quickened.

  “You have one night to prove to me you’re more than a predator. That storm is going to hit any moment now. If we both set up our own camp, we’d waste resources as well as the possibility of sleep, and that would be stupid. We’ll reevaluate in the morning.”

  “Okay.” Lynn nodded quickly. “Okay, sounds good.”

  “Ask me why you’re getting this shot.” Dani’s stoic face didn’t betray any of her emotions.

  “Uhhh…why am I getting this shot?”

  Dani licked her lips and glanced at her boots. “Because you sat with me in the car when I slept. I remembered grabbing your arm in the morning. I thought it was part of my dream, but then I found my knife on the ground and I kinda pieced together what’d happened. That was a selfless thing you did—pretty much the only selfless thing you’ve done so far—and if there is more of that person in there, maybe she’s worth getting to know.”

  Dani’s soft brown eyes made Lynn feel a little wobbly. The words soothed the sting of her previous reprimands like Ren’s healing balm. She blushed. “Okay.”

  Dani gave her the smallest of smiles. “Okay.” She glanced at the sky, then pointed to the left of the road. “There are some houses there. Let’s try to find somewhere with a roof.”

  Lynn followed without comment, but with a head full of thoughts.

  Lynn brought her tomahawk down on the goose’s spine. It cracked easily. With two more blows, she divided the carcass into four pieces. Its dark meat hung over a small fire Dani tended. The stripped bones were all that remained of the bird. Lynn chopped the ribs from the spine and cracked them once more.

  Dani leaned against the wall next to the door and watched the rain come down in buckets.

  Skeever, covered in the feathers he’d chased on the pre-storm winds, chewed contentedly on the head and neck of the goose. He’d taken up position on the threshold of the red brick house they’d chosen to occupy for the night.

  Two cans of water came to a boil almost at the same time.

  Lynn continued to chop the bones into smaller and smaller pieces.

  They’d chosen this house because it was three stories high, so even if the roof was shot, the odds were good that they’d find somewhere dry downstairs. There were steps that led up to a plateau in front of the entrance, so they had an overview of the street and the 95 that ran parallel to it, separated from each other by only by a rusty chain-link fence and a patch of green they’d crossed an hour earlier.

  Many of the buildings on the street offered protection from the rain through multiple levels and a vantage point by way of an elevated stoop, but none of the others boasted a heavily ornamented awning and low walls on either side that blocked both the rain and the wind and allowed them to make a fire to cook food. Much of the fire’s heat was blown away instantly.

  Lynn had stocked up on layers of clothing to combat the severe temperature drop.

  Dani had wrapped herself up in a blanket.

  Lynn dropped as many of the bones as would fit in the boiling water and tossed the remainders to Skeever.

  Dani leaned forward and rotated the meat.

  The silence wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was prolonged. The rain coming down on the awning and the whipping about of tree branches produced enough noise to let the silence stretch without seeming anti-social, but Lynn’s time to prove herself was ticking away. She searched for a topic. “You said ‘most likely.’” She glanced to the side.

  Dani turned her head toward her and frowned. “Most likely?”

  “That your parents were ‘most likely’ dead.”

  “Ah.” Dani turned her head back.

  Sure, remind her of her dead parents! Great strategy to show you’re not an asshole. She got ready to apologize.

  “My father is dead. We were attacked on the road. He told me to run, and I did. They hung him.” Dani plucked at her blanket. “I found him the next day.”

  Lynn swallowed. “I’m really sorry.”

  Dani shrugged. “Me too.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Seventeen. We’d just left New Town. Have you heard of it?” She looked up to check.

  Lynn nodded. “Yeah. Biggest newly established city anywhere, as far as everyone I’ve ever met knows.”

  “It’s a shit hole. We escaped when—” She licked her lips. “Never mind. We left.”

  Lynn didn’t probe further. “And your mom?”

  “She was alive five years ago, but five years is a long time. I assume she’s dead.”

  “You got separated?”

  “I guess you could say that.” Dani’s jaw set.

  Back away slowly. “My mom died when I was three. My dad when I was six.” Lynn didn’t like to talk about it, but Dani had shared first, so it was only right that she told her story as well. She stirred the broth in both tins. “The building we were sleeping in collapsed around us. It killed almost everyone in the group, including my dad.” The memories swirled up.

  Dani was watching her again. “And your mom?”

  “Died while giving birth to my baby brother.” Lynn adjusted her coat to busy her hands—and mind.

  “Did he—?”

  Lynn shook her head.

  “I’m sorry.” She sounded genuinely upset.

  Lynn sighed. “That’s how it goes.”

  Dani nodded slowly. “Yeah. It is.” She rotated the meat again.

  Lynn needed a few seconds to steel herself before she could go on, but she was determined to give Dani a chance to get to know her.

  The rain that pelted down covered the silence.

  “The woman who stepped up to care for me—Anna—took me to a nearby settlement after it happened. Predators got her. After that, the group took care of me as best they could. There was an old woman in the camp Anna took me to. Everyone called her Old Lady Senna. In hindsight she probably wasn’t that old—late fifties, maybe—but she had all these scars from a bear attack that had left her crippled. She could make anything out of bamboo and reed.” Lynn smiled at the memory. Her fingers remembered too: they worked together to weave the air. She watched them as if they were separate from her.

  Dani glanced at them too.

  “Old Lady Senna used to make these beautiful pieces of art as if it was nothing. Mostly little animals like swans, bears, and wolves. The group had a few kids, and we used to play with the animals she made. I carried one of her little creations around with me for a long time, until it crumbled. I can’t make them like she did, but she taught me a lot. Honestly, it’s the only relatively useful thing I can do besides hunt and scavenge. I can make snares, bowls, baskets, bags, fishing pods, anything that involves weaving. If I have the right materials, I can weave them tight enough to hold water.” She looked up and smiled at Dani.

  “She gave me something to do, and it saved my life more times than I can count. Weaving allowed me to carry water, catch food, or make something to trade in exchange for a night spent in safety. I owe her a lot.”

  Dani examined her, then smiled.

  Lynn wondered what she was thinking and felt oddly vulnerable. She didn’t like to share things about herself—especially not things that she held dear. These good memories were sacred. If they became tainted somehow, she’d have nothing to fall back on during the times when the weight of the world felt crushing. “She died when I was twelve, and I’ve been making my own way through since.”

  “You’re still alive, so you’re doing something right.” Dani’s tone was soft.

  Lynn shrugged. “I guess. I don’t think there is much of an alternative, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know.” The way Dani looked at her made Lynn feel as if she was missing a glaringly obvious alternative that escaped her.

  “Um, I think the meat’s about done.”

  “Yeah, I think so too. Plate?” Dani looked around for her backpack.

  “I’ll get mine. We can share.” Before Dani could protest, she got up and walked past a noisily chewing Skeever to her pack.

  When Lynn returned with the plate, Dani pushed the meat off the sticks.

  Lynn glanced out into the rain. “Do you want to go inside?”

  “Let’s eat here.”

  “Okay. We’ll do that.” Lynn reached out to take a piece of goose meat, then realized it was rude to help herself first and pushed the plate toward Dani instead.

  Dani snorted. “Overdoing it.” She smiled a little, so Lynn was okay with the jab.

  “Since I’m on a deadline, I figured I’d go the extra mile.” She showed her teeth in a grin.

  Dani laughed, a short little bark that ended in a nasal snort.

  Lynn’s gut fluttered upon hearing it. She looked down to the plate so she could select a piece equal in size to the one Dani had taken. It was dark meat, tough, and a little bitter. The complex layers of flavors made her hum. “Perfect.”

  Dani smiled in response and chewed with her eyes closed.

  The second the first bite hit her stomach, Lynn realized how hungry she’d been. It rumbled for more, and Lynn filled it with her fair share of the meat. Then she fed it a large bowl of broth to boot. Afterward, while Dani prepared their bed for the night out of their combined blankets, she sat and added the brittle remains of a side table to the fire.

  When Dani said something over the unrelenting rain, Lynn checked to see if she was addressing her.

  Dani sat on the bed and spoke to Skeever, who’d come to join her. She stroked his back and scratched him under his jaw until he rolled over so she could rub his chest and belly.

  Lynn smiled.

  Dani’s hair tumbled when she leaned in to rub her face against his fur.

  Skeever kicked with his hind leg in a way Lynn had come to recognize as extreme happiness.

  She turned away to let the two bond again after their troubled reunion. She really hoped—for his sake as well as her own—that this night wouldn’t be the only one they’d get to spend with Dani. Even with the tension, it felt good to get a chance to prove herself.

 

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