Backing away, she stepped onto the veranda and grabbed a muffin from the bowl. She slathered it in butter and jam, forked a portion of pork on her plate, and grabbed a bowlful of strawberries. She plopped down to eat, brooding over Tommy’s wounds. Soon Rowena—Tommy’s mom—and Gramma joined her at the table.
“That was the darndest thing last night,” Gramma said. “Ain’t never heard tell of raiders and mutants teamin’ up. Too bad we can’t ask them about it.”
“Can mutants even talk?” Rowena asked and plucked a strawberry from Lark’s bowl.
Lark didn’t care. She was too busy feeling guilty. “They can make sounds.” She chomped another bite out of her messy cornbread.
“Hank said they counted fifteen dead attackers,” Rowena said, changing the subject. “Any injured ones ran off. We had two killed and a dozen wounded. Tommy’s goin’ to be just fine.” She didn’t sound convinced.
“I don’t get it,” Lark declared. “There were maybe thirty of them—forty at the most—attacking a town of eight hundred. Sure, it was dusk, they had the element of surprise, but everything about last night ran the wrong way. We’ve had cargo shipments and hunting parties raided, and, about ten years ago, a force a hundred strong fought their way into town to steal grain, but it’s early summer. We don’t have full storehouses to plunder.”
“You’re right,” Rowena said, as if she’d not thought of it.
Bryn wandered out of the other side of the L-shaped house and slid onto the bench beside Lark. She snuck a strawberry. “Where do the mutants come from? Where do they live when they aren’t attacking people?”
“In these parts, some come from the wastes around Old Atlanta,” Gramma answered. “Others from the Jacksonville Dead Zone. Did you know there once was a whole beautiful stretch of land south of the crater? It’s mostly under water now.”
“You mean the Sunken Kingdom?” Lark asked with interest. Sometimes, travelers would stop at Saltmarsh Reach on their way to and from places. Several of them told about a magic castle filled with colorful fish that rested just below the surface of the water, kilometers south of the crater. Once, it had been a vacation spot beloved by visitors the world over.
“Yep. You know, that’s how I came to be blind.”
“You weren’t always blind?” Bryn asked, head cocked toward Gramma.
“No, Magpie,” she laughed, wrinkling the corners of her eyes. “We lived south of Savannah, north of Jacksonville. I was outside with little Roy and his sister, playing at the park. We knew a war was on, but none of the fighting was happening on our continent. Everyone thought we were safe, invincible. I was watchin’ my young’uns play on the swings and slides when a blazing white light erupted in the sky. The kids weren’t facing south—praise all the saints and angels—but that light, as blazing as the sun, burned my retinas. Ithappened to a lot of folks. For some, the flash blindness was temporary; for others, permanent.”
“I’ll bet you were scared,” Rowena commented compassionately. Reaching, she laid a hand atop Gramma’s.
“Terrified at first,” she admitted, “but mostly because bombs were droppin’ on all the major cities. We thought it was the end of the world, and all I could think was: I can’t let my children die. With their papa off fightin’, I had to be strong for them, keep them safe. So, a group of us took off north to Savannah to escape the radiation poisoning that was cuttin’ folks down like flies. We made a stand there until the followin’ season’s hurricane leveled the city. But we carried on. People too close to the blast zone either died of the sickness or turned mutant.”
Lark had heard the story before. Her dad had recounted it from his perspective as a child, all the uncertainty, shifting weather patterns, constant fear of more bombs.Leaves on the wind.Everything was so much better now. Still, each day was one storm, one epidemic, one attack away from being someone’s last.
Three days later, Tommy’s fever raged. The bite in his arm had turned an angry red, oozing with pus, despite Gramma and every other healer in town’s best efforts.
“We need better medicine,” Milena lamented.
“Antibiotics,” Gramma supplied. The three of them stood in the room where he still lay, now burning up, alternating between chills and sweats. It was hard to get any liquids into him.
Saltmarsh Reach was still trying to recover from the raid. Emotions high. People were jumpy, on edge, fear breeding discontent. Some folks were riled up, saying, “Why doesn’t the queen build military posts in the south?” “Why arethere no troops to protect us down here?” “Don’t we pay taxes like everyone else?”
“Queen Frost will help us,” Milena proclaimed. She turned a hopeful gaze to Lark. “If we go to Nelanta, we can ask for medicine, for antibiotics. Saltmarsh Reach hasn’t received a fresh supply in years. She can’t turn us away. I know she’ll help.”
The desperate longing in Milena’s voice, her eyes, her soul, ripped at Lark’s heart as much as seeing Tommy suffer. She licked her lips, clenched her jaw. “I’m going.”
“Not without me!” Lark glanced over her shoulder at Leif.
Her little brother was as tall as she was, and, while not quite as strong and agile, every bit as stubborn. “And me.”
Milena’s fingers curled around Lark’s upper arm as she leaned close. “We’ll all three go. That way, you’ll have other voices to testify that what you say is true. Queen Frost will give us the medicine we need—I just know it.”
“How will you get there and back fast enough?” asked Bryn, who sat in a corner with her knees pulled up to her chin.
“Take three of Talon Jones’ horses,” Gramma directed. “Tell him I said so—he still owes me. They’re the fastest of the lot. Do you know how to get there?”
“I’ve got Dad’s old map,” Lark answered. “If we don’t waste time, we can be there in two days—and wewon’twaste time.”
“Let me pack you some vittles to carry along, and be watchful,” old Inez charged. “Those stragglers who attacked us could still be out there.”
“Don’t worry, Gramma,” Lark assured her with a hug and a kiss. “They’re the ones who need to watch out.”
