Wanderers (7 page)

Caleb continued on, joining others. One of them seemed to be going slowly on purpose, wobbling from side to side in an effort to stay upright.

Eli was doing his best to accompany Asha, who walked beside him. The boy knew the rules of the caravan: Since there was only a limited number of bicycles, everyone had to take turns walking, free-riding, or pulling a wagon. Free-riding was the easiest and most pleasant form of travel, and frequent squabbles erupted when people thought that others had gone over their allotted time. Eli was worried that someone would take advantage of Asha, because she was too naïve to ask for her turn.

He was determined that this would not happen.

Eli couldn't deny that he thought Asha was pretty—round faced and with a sweet expression—and her childlike quality made him feel protective. He also knew she'd lost her older brother in the quake and so had no one to look after her.

“I'm sorry for your loss,” he said, gazing at the ground as he pedaled next to her. “Your brother, I mean.”

“Oh, he ain't gone,” Asha said, with certainty.

“No?”

“No. Someone just shook things up, then reached down and grabbed everybody. It's like that game, when you throw a little ball in the air and grab those pointy things? They'll all come down again, you'll see.”

“You believe that?”

“I know it.”

Eli couldn't help but smile. This idea, while ludicrous, still oddly comforted him.

By now, the sun was halfway down the afternoon sky, which meant it was time to find somewhere to stop for the night. Caleb assumed they would be taking the nearest exit; after all, only a fool would choose to camp on a major highway, especially with such a large group. Yet Rafe showed no sign he was thinking of pulling over.

They passed a sign for Schroon Lake, the destination Caleb had originally suggested. Perhaps recalling the name, Rafe arrived at his own decision.

“This way, for the night!” he shouted.

The group steered onto a narrow road that led off the highway. In the near distance, through the blackened branches of lifeless trees, they could see a huge, dry expanse that had once been a lake. As they approached, Caleb noticed the rotting hulls of sailboats and other detritus resting on the cracked bottom.

He could also detect the distinct smell of charred wood and smoke.

The town itself was no more than a modest main street that had recently been gutted by fire. It was clear there was no place to stay and nothing to Glean. Any stores or businesses had burned to the ground, leaving little but scorched remains still drifting ash.

“
This
the place you wanted us to go?” Rafe asked Caleb, his tone contemptuous.

But Caleb didn't answer. He was focused on something else entirely.

Something lay by the side of the road. At first, it seemed to be a pile of filthy sheets, old robes someone had taken off and discarded. But it shifted, revealing a thin arm.

It was a person. And whoever it was was still alive.

“Watch it,” warned Rafe. He was already moving on, covering his mouth with his sleeve. “You don't want to mess with anyone who got the sickness. You'll end up dead and getting the rest of us sick, too.”

But Caleb was already off his bicycle and crossing to the stranger. He knelt by his side and spoke in quiet tones. Then he leaned in close. After a moment, he gave a start; and then he pulled the hood away that covered his face.

He saw who it was.

The girl, fourteen or so, had hair the color of honey and a face disfigured beyond belief. Her pale skin was lashed by ripples of flesh that cascaded from her brow to her cheeks and chin. One eye, discolored and sealed shut, continually wept tears, and the other one, a disconcertingly bright blue, was staring and open.

“Michal,” Caleb said. He could hardly breathe. It felt unreal to see his brother's former girlfriend again, and like this: miles from Prin, maimed almost beyond recognition, and left for dead by the side of the road.

“Caleb,” she whispered. Her voice was tiny, like a dead leaf skittering down the sidewalk. “Help me.”

“So that's who it is.” A crowd of the curious had gathered around them, and a boy spoke up now. “Levi's girl.”

“She don't look so pretty now, does she,” said another, who spat on the ground.

“Levi's whore,” Rhea said. She had pushed her way to the front of the crowd, her eyes glittering. “His slut.” She seemed to relish the words.

Again, Caleb spoke to Michal, too softly for anyone else to hear. “Did Levi do this to you?”

The girl nodded once and said something Caleb couldn't hear. Then Rafe sauntered up, surveying the situation.

“What's going on?” he said.

It was only then that he noticed the girl at the center of the crowd and he squinted in vague recollection. Rafe had seen her at the Source, always in the background, but only once or twice, and certainly not since her face had been ruined. He recoiled.

“Somebody give me some water!” Caleb called.

As Esther fetched a bottle, the circle around Michal grew. People shoved and jostled to get a look, and a cruel, reckless gaiety filled the air. Silas pushed up his nose and pulled down his eyelids in a vicious parody, mincing and swaying his hips to the wild amusement of some. Others reached toward Michal, snatching at her robes and hair.

“We don't got anything for people like you!”

“You should have saved something to eat from the Source!”

Rhea reached out and pinched the new girl, hard, on the arm. “Ugly whore,” she hissed. “You don't belong with decent folk.”

Rafe was all for people enjoying themselves, but time was wasting and he was growing bored. “I'm sorry,” he said to Caleb above the noise, “but looks like you done all you can. Leave the girl. We got to be on our way.”

There was a rumble of outrage from the others; this had been their only fun since leaving Prin and it was just getting started. But Caleb cut it off.

“She's coming. She's one of us, and she's gonna travel with us.”

Rafe opened his mouth to object, but Caleb continued. “If she doesn't come, we don't go another step. I made most of the wagons and I can take them apart.”

Caleb waited until the crowd relented and broke up, with much muttering and reluctance. Then he picked Michal up in his arms and carried her to Esther's wagon. She was lighter than air, almost as light as Kai. There he laid her beside Joseph, who stared at her, a bit afraid.

Caleb gave Michal some food and then closed the tarp over her. He didn't explain but met Esther's eye and nodded once.

Rafe watched the crowd disperse before gazing after Caleb with poorly disguised resentment.

“All right,” he said, “let's go!”

Esther dropped her pace so she could steal a peek at the new girl.

Michal now walked by herself, toward the back of the caravan, helping push the heavy water wagon. She spoke to nobody and kept her head down.

Yet although she had rewrapped her destroyed face in its protective sheet and again pulled her hood over her head, a piece of hair had escaped and now trailed down the side of her throat. It caught the rays of the setting sun, revealing itself to be a color Esther had never seen before: gleaming gold, with streaks of copper in it.

Michal used to live with Levi,
Esther realized,
the boy who had the best of everything. So she must have once been beautiful.

Esther felt a pang. She had no illusions about her own attractiveness; although she was too thin and dark with flyaway hair and eyes that were too big, Caleb liked the way she looked. Still, she had no idea what kind of connection her partner had had to this girl. What did it mean that he had risked the entire caravan to defend her?

As she mulled over her thoughts, Esther became aware of a bad smell that grew until it became an overpowering chemical stench. Ahead of her, the caravan slowed and then stopped. Even from where she was, Esther could see what was wrong. In the distance, an oily mass spread across the highway, gleaming black and impassable. It reached deep into the woods on either side, as big as several fields put together. Here and there, lumps bulged from the otherwise smooth surface: animals that had been caught in the poisonous mess, and perhaps unlucky travelers, as well.

Esther heard a rustling sound. Perched on his bicycle, Rafe was turning Joseph's maps one way, then around again. He seemed agitated.

“I know where we are,” he kept saying. “Don't anyone panic, now.”

Caleb managed to convince Rafe to turn the caravan around; the sun was dropping in the sky and finding shelter was more important than figuring out a detour. They backtracked to the exit, then continued past it until they reached another town, less than a mile away. The center of the village was tiny—not much more than a handful of stores clustered around a four-way intersection—and showed the aftereffects of the earthquake. Yet it would do as a place to spend the night.

Most of the townspeople, including Rafe, headed into one of the few buildings still standing, a building called
RITE AID
. There, a few curled up on the trash-strewn floor to sleep. But a few remained outside. Silas took the tools that let him break into buildings and wandered off to see what he could find; Skar, too, disappeared into the nearby woods with her bow and remaining arrows. Joseph released Stumpy from her carrier and Kai squatted in the dust, watching the cat stalk and pounce on grasshoppers.

Esther and Caleb took two of the free bicycles . They continued down the road past the ruins of houses until they found what Caleb had spied on the horizon: a dented sign that loomed overhead on a giant metal pole. It read
STOP & SHOP
. Beneath it was a brick building, its large window frames edged with shards of broken glass and the entrance gaping open where swinging doors once hung.

Inside, dust motes danced in the air. Trash was strewn everywhere—not only long-discarded food cartons and packages but also an old mattress, sodden newspapers, the remains of a fire, dead leaves.

Caleb and Esther worked their way down aisles of filthy shelves, going quickly to take advantage of the failing light. They avoided the piles of cans that bulged, leaking the foul, black liquid that used to be vegetables, baked beans, tuna fish, soup. They bypassed several shelves of once-colorful cardboard cartons, which they knew only held the rotted dust of ancient cereal, mixed with insect casings, rat droppings, and mold.

But on one high shelf, empty except for spilled flour, Esther came across a windfall: a white and blue box.

“Hey,” she called. “Look what I found.”

By the time Caleb showed up, Esther had already torn it open. Inside were two neat layers of small yellow cakes, ten in all, each individually sealed in clear plastic. He took one out, tried to squeeze it, and sniffed it. So did she.

“Pretty hard,” she commented; “but seems like they're okay.”

They were called Twinkies. True, the yellow cakes were stiff as dried mud and filled with white stuff that was just as unyielding; but they were sweet and relatively edible.
At least,
Esther thought,
they wouldn't kill you.
She closed the lid and placed box with care in her backpack.

“And look what I found,” Caleb said. Fumbling in his pack, he revealed two small jars. They were dusty and covered with grit; but when he brushed them off, she saw that the glass and lids were intact and that they were filled with amber liquid.
GOLDEN BLOSSOM
, the label read.

When he wrenched one lid open, it gave a satisfying pop. He stuck one finger in and pulled it out.

“Here,” he said.

Esther parted her lips and tasted. The honey was cool and sweet, tickling her throat in a delicious way as she swallowed; she ran her tongue over his finger even after it was gone. When she glanced up at him, he was smiling. His face was streaked with dirt, and he wiped a cobweb from his brow.

“I also found some sugar and a bag of beans,” Caleb said, “so I think we'll be okay for a few days.”

“Even with the one extra person?”

Esther bit her lip. She hadn't meant to say anything, but she couldn't help it; the question had just popped out. In the growing darkness, she could hear Caleb exhale.

“You want to talk about it?”

“I do.”

Esther knew it hurt Caleb to talk about his late brother. Yet she was filled with not only an intense curiosity about the new girl but also something she had never experienced before: jealousy. She needed to know about this stranger, the one with the beautiful golden hair; and so she stood in the dim light of the store, waiting. And after a few moments, Caleb spoke.

“Michal helped me,” he said. “She saved my life when Levi tried to have me killed. Hid me in her room and took care of me.”

Esther thought of the scars she knew so well: the one on his chest and the matching one between his shoulders, where the arrow had pierced him through. “Then she helped me find Kai.” Caleb took a deep breath. “I figure Levi found out what happened. That's why he did what he done to her. With something that burns. To punish her in a way that would hurt the most.”

Michal's melted features flashed in front of Esther's eyes and she shuddered.

“I guess I feel responsible.” Caleb rubbed his face with a sleeve. When he spoke again, his voice was so soft, Esther had to lean forward to catch his words. “So it's the least I can do for all she did.”

When he had started to speak, Esther had been full of questions about Michal and how pretty she had been. Now that she had heard what actually happened, she was filled with shame, as well as a deep feeling of gratitude toward the stranger. She took Caleb's hand.

“If Mundreel is as good as Rafe says it is,” Caleb said, “feeding another won't be so hard.” He had been gazing at the ground, then glanced up at her with a smile. “Maybe we can try to give Kai a little brother or sister.”