“Want to hang with us, Kid?” I ask.
Jamar’s eyes cloud and he says, “Uh...”
“Oh, no, not you.” I point at the Kid. “His name is the Kid. Kid, meet Jamar.”
“Hi,” says the Kid.
Taylor starts to walk away, then turns back to see if Jamar is coming. He gives his sister one final embarrassed look of contempt before he and Taylor walk off to stand by a tree and talk.
“How about you?” I ask. “Want to hang with a baby, the Kid, an alligator attack victim, and a romance novelist? We’re thinking about walking into a bar later, seeing what happens.”
She laughs and sits down with us. I notice her nails are painted but chipped. The color is a pale lavender.
“I like your nails,” I say.
“Thanks. I know it seems ridiculous, painting my nails in the apocalypse, but it’s therapeutic. Gives me a chance to relax. And thanks for helping me with Jamar. I know he’s embarrassed, but he really doesn’t get to talk to people his own age much.”
“Taylor either,” I say. We go around the circle and introduce ourselves. “You been with the Nomads long?”
She shakes her head. “We ran into them back in Arkansas. Jamar and I were pretty much the only two people left in our hometown when they came through.”
“What was your hometown called?” I ask.
“Garland City. It’s near Texarkana.”
“Was that before or after... whatever happened to everyone?” I nod in the direction of the medical tent, and Niki’s mood darkens.
“Before.”
“We don’t have to talk about it, hon,” Daphne says, “if you don’t want to.”
She shakes her head again. “I heard a little bit about what happened to you all with your settlement in the Keys.” But not about Fort Caroline. I glance at Daphne to see if she’s going to say anything, but she just keeps her eyes on Niki. “It sounds like... I don’t know. It sounds wrong to say your group wasn’t as bad as ours.”
“It’s true,” I say. Although I big-time disagree with how they handled things, the Keysweretrying to find a way to help everyone. I just think we could have figured out another way.
“The settlement was in Louisiana,” Niki says. “It was some church pastor whose whole family survived the flu. He said it was divine intervention and meant they were chosen to lead. When we first got there, things were fine; he wasn’t a big fire-and-brimstone preacher like back home. He seemed like a good Christian who genuinely wanted to help.”
But again my eyes drift over to the medical tent. While I was there having my injuries looked at, I saw all the other injured Nomads. Many of whom were burned, which seems pretty fire-and-brimstone.
“Then one night he died. Passed away peacefully in his sleep—or so his son, Phillip, said. But Cal says his son had a pretty cohesive plan to take over when his father died, so he and a few others think the son killed him. That’s when things got bad. Supplies started to go missing, and his family seemed to be fine while the rest of us were struggling to find food. Some folks tried to raid the supplies instead of waiting for our weekly ration—they were trying to feed kids—but when they got caught, Phillip...” Her eyes drift down to the Kid, who isn’t looking at her, but she’s smart enough to know that doesn’t mean he isn’t listening. She mouths the words “cut off their hands” and mimes it with her own in case we missed it.
“Jesus,” I say as Daphne puts her hand to her mouth.
“If he found out people were criticizing him, he would...” Again she stops, because the Kidislooking at her now. I think I know where she was going, anyway. “Let’s just say it was all very Old Testament.Some people believed in him, but most didn’t. The people who knew his father and had listened to him preach in church every Sunday said Phillip was nothing like his dad.”
There’s a long silence. Fort Caroline hadn’t gone full-tilt theocracy when we met them, but it seems like they were on their way. A chill run downs my spine at the idea of Phillip teaming up with Danny Rosewood to become the postapocalyptic supervillains of my nightmares.
“Sorry,” Niki says with a shy laugh. “This is why we don’t usually talk about this stuff.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “We know how it is. I mean, not exactly, but we know how hard things can be post-poc. And it seems like you have a good group of people now.” I have no idea how they all came together or what happened to the people in the medical tent, but I’m sure whatever it is, Niki doesn’t want to get into it. The way she brightens when I mention her group proves my point.
“Yeah, and it’s kind of nice, being able to travel around. I always thought I’d be stuck in Arkansas my whole life, and now I’ve seen Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Florida. Which, yeah, maybe doesn’t sound that great, especially considering the world ended and it’s not like we’ve seenfunthings...” Her eyes go wide and she seems to catch herself. “Not that I think it’s fun the world ended. Oh, now I’m rambling.”
We laugh and Henri-Two starts crying. Niki points to her. “Do you mind?”
“Go for it,” Daphne says, nodding.
Niki reaches over to pick her up. She walks in a circle, trying toshush her and talking in a high-pitched voice. It works for a bit, but then the cries come right back.
