Night Resurrected (26 page)
strand falling loose over her shoulder,
and she was flipping through a rack of
dresses. “Spare me that image, please.
My stomach’s a little weak lately.” Her
smile could only be described as
sweetly sly.
“Oh yes I am doing it to you,” Flo
said. “Your brows are out of control,
Zoë dear. They’re practically spiders. A
well-arched brow makes all the
difference,” she said, turning to lecture
Remy. “It’s the foundation of elegance.”
“She read that in a magazine,”
whispered Jade.
“Where did you get all of these
gorgeous clothes?” Remy asked Flo,
looking at rows and racks of dresses.
She’d never seen anything like most of
them—the glittery fabric, the fur, the
feathers, the impracticality of it all.
The older woman smiled, showing a
juicy dimple on one cheek. “My mother
was one of the survivors of the Change,
and she worked here as a showgirl when
this city was Las Vegas. The glitz, the
glitter, the glam, she used to say. The
way she explained it, she raided as many
of the wardrobes as she could—I have
no idea why, when people were trying to
survive. I guess it was her way of
holding on. Maybe she thought they
would be important for history’s sake.
Anyway, she saved a lot of these things.
I’ve made some. And remade others.
Collected even more from scavengers.
It’s sort of an obsession.” She grinned
wider.
“Obsession’s
a
freaking
understatement,” Zoë muttered.
“So tell us about Selena,” Sage said.
She turned, holding a bright blue dress
with a flowing skirt. “How’s this, Flo?”
“You always wear those long, loose
skirts,” Jade said, lifting her head a little
to look. “Why don’t you try something
different? Something short? Let Simon
get a look at your legs for once.”
Sage smiled slyly, which gave her
innocent face a layer of something
naughty. “Simon gets plenty of chance to
look at my legs, trust me. And I like this
style. It’s the color I’m wondering about.
Flo?”
“I approve,” replied the older
woman. “But Jade’s right—you could try
something a little shorter. What do you
think about this, Zoë?” She held up a
small piece of black material that
sparkled. “It’ll be great with your skin
tone.”
“What the hell is that?” Zoë
approached
cautiously,
but
with
curiosity in her face. “Don’t tell me it’s
a frigging
skirt
.”
“No, it’s a tube top. It goes around
here.” Flo demonstrated on her own
torso. “You could wear it with that
white jacket and black skir— Oh, all
right—
pants
,” she added with a sigh.
“Although a long skirt would look
better.”
A knock on the door interrupted
whatever argument Zoë might have been
about to make. “You all decent?” a
female voice called.
“Come in,” Flo called. “The more the
merrier!”
One look at her face told Remy the
motherly woman meant it. She was in
her element with a roomful of females
who needed her.
At the invitation, two more women
came in. One was very tall—probably at
least six feet—with long, streaky blond-
brown hair and a rich caramel-golden
tan. She had such a beautiful smile it
took Remy a moment to notice that she
walked with a pronounced limp. “Hey,
all. This looks like fun.
Whoa.
Is Zoë
holding a
skirt
?”
“Over my dead-ass body. It’s called
a tube top. Which
you
wouldn’t be able
to wear because you’ve got an
assload
more boob than I do.”
“I don’t know, Zoë. That baby’s
giving you a lot more curve than you had
before,” teased the tall woman. “Even
Fence noticed.”
“Aw, fuck that. When
doesn’t
Fence
notice a woman?”
“When he’s looking at Ana,” Sage
said, unraveling the towel from her hair.
“Damn straight,” agreed Zoë.
“Welcome to the zoo, Ana,” Jade
said with a grin. “And welcome to you,
whoever you are. I hope you came ready
for Flo to take you under her wing.” This
last was said to the second young
woman, who was looking around the
room with the same sort of trepidation
that was on Zoë’s face.
“This is Cat,” said Ana. “She and her
father arrived from Glenway just in time
for Survivors Day. Her sister is my
friend Yvonne.” There were quick
introductions of the rest of the women,
including Remy to Ana.
This was good. Now she knew who
Ana was. Hopefully, she’d be able to
find time to talk with her sometime
tonight and see what she knew—if
anything—about the crystal.
“Cat doesn’t have anything to wear,”
Ana explained.
“I didn’t realize this Survivors Day
thing was such a big deal,” interjected
the newcomer. She had dark brown hair
that curled in tousled waves around her
face and jaw. Her eyes were the color of
coffee beans and she had a smattering of
youthful freckles across her nose. Even
so, she looked as if she were in her
twenties.
“It is a big deal,” Sage said. “There’s
an official Thanksgiving celebration in
memory and gratitude for the people
who managed to live a year after the
Change; sort of like the one Americans
used to celebrate in November. That
happens in June and has been celebrated
ever since the first year after the
devastation. But a while back, Vaughn—
Mayor Rogan, I mean—thought it would
make sense to honor the people who
actually survived the Change. Some of
them are still alive. They did so much to
rebuild our world by planning and
saving all sorts of things. Without them,
we wouldn’t have a lot of the things we
have today—things like black pepper
and strawberries. Information about
solar panels. And a whole lot of other
basic things.”
“Besides that, it’s a great reason to
have a big party,” Jade said with a
laugh. “And the only thing we’re
missing, I think, is a bottle of wine.”
“Well, funny you should mention
that,” said Ana, setting a bottle on the
table. It was filled with pale yellow
liquid. “Yvonne’s husband Pete sent a
few bottles of the mead he makes. And
trust
me
when
I
tell
you—it’s
wonderful.”
“I’ll get some glasses,” said Flo,
bustling over to one of her cabinets.
“Zoë, you’re next. Take Jade’s place,
please.”
“Okay, Remy, now back to Selena.
Give us the dirt,” Jade said, shoving Zoë
into the chair she’d just vacated.
“Selena is a very special person,”
Remy said, hiding a grin at Zoë’s
terrified expression. “She’s got a special
gift for helping people—as they’re
dying, but also when they have
something . . . terrible . . . happen. And
she does this thing with the zombies that
. . . helps them.” She glanced at Zoë and
decided not to go into detail.
From Wyatt and Theo, she knew that
Zoë had a much different approach to
handling the zombies than Selena did.
“There’s something peaceful about her.
She really helped me, uh, get through a
difficult
time.
But
,”
she
added,
“Selena’s not a pushover. She and Theo
are really happy together. He helps her
stay strong with her gift—which can be
really difficult. And he’s completely nuts
about her.”
“I’m so glad,” Sage said, sincerity in
her voice and demeanor. “He’s a very
special guy. A good friend. He used to
bring me books all the time when he was
out—”
“Holy mother of the world, where
did you get
this
?” Zoë’s exclamation had
everyone turning to look. She was
miraculously out of the chair and holding
up Remy’s new bra. “This is beyond
hella
awesome
.”
Remy grinned. “I scavenged it. We
found an old truck trailer and there was
a lot of stuff in it. I found a bunch of
other things—panties and tank tops. But I
had to leave them behind in the zombie
attack. And there was this one pair of
panties . . . at least, I think they were
panties. It was black, and nothing but a
triangle in front, and a string—er—up
the back. You know what I mean?”
“A thong,” Flo said, handing Remy a
glass of the mead.
“It has a fucking
string
?” Zoë
repeated, taking her own glass—which
was only about a third full. “Up the
back
? You’re supposed to have a string
up your ass-crack? How in the hell can
that be comfortable?”
They all laughed, and for the first
time she could remember, Remy realized
she was having a good time with other
women.
This must be what it’s like to
have sisters. Or best friends.
How had she missed this much of
life?
W
yatt had completely forgotten about
Survivors Day.
Just what I do
not
need.
Hoping to avoid people, he’d come
into Envy through the back way, using
the secret tunnel Theo and Lou Waxnicki
had designed half a century earlier when
the protective wall was being built
around the city. The old, cracked
Wendy’s sign marked the entrance from
the exterior, and the route included
passage through an old railroad car and
a massive metal culvert. It came out on
the far west side of the enclosed part of
the settlement, an area that was
abandoned by all but rats, stray cats, and
more than a few ugly snakes.
Hidden beneath and inside the barrier
built of rubble, the throughway was
known only to a limited number of
people. As Lou Waxnicki had told Wyatt
and his friends:
You always have to
have a back door, whether you’re
writing code or building a fortress.
You never knew when you were
going to need a way out . . . or a way in.
Now, back in the inhabited part of the
city, Wyatt stalked grimly through the
structure that had once been the Vegas
resort New York–New York. The
building was the place where most of the
residents of Envy lived, using the hotel
rooms as small living spaces. Of course
few of them were outfitted with kitchens,
so meals were generally taken at one of
the two community restaurants run by the
City of Envy and staffed by the residents
of the settlement. Everyone took a turn
on KP, or somehow supported the co-op
by growing or raising food, or
contributing other resources like keeping
the appliances working, the solar panels
in shape, and the water flowing. There
were a few small, private kitchens, he’d
learned, but most people liked and
preferred the community setting. It was
like
Cheers
on steroids.
Every single day.
Unfortunately for Wyatt, this meant if
he wanted to eat, he’d have to brave the
frivolity and celebration below. And he
had
been
traveling
rapidly
and
efficiently for two days, hardly stopping
to eat or sleep, so he was hungry and
tired.
Once he’d assured himself Remy was
safe—although whether being with Ian
Marck could really be considered safe
was a good question—he stopped
following them. The tender scene he’d
witnessed between Remy and Ian, when
Ian eased her up against the Humvee and
reached up to stroke her cheek, was an
early indication. But just to be sure, he
tracked them a little farther, easy to do
while in the trees and following the very
slow progress of the vehicle. It was the
passionate kiss in the creek that had