I still don’t feel bad for them, but better late than never, I guess?
Jamie leans back again but keeps his arm around my waist. “There are probably less than forty million people left alive on this entire continent—and that’s just from the flu, not starvation or accidents or regular illnesses—but we still run into the same ones we’re trying to hide from.”
“They won’t tell anyone. Denton has to know the reward on that poster is bullshit. And I’d bet real postapocalyptic currency they don’t want Fort Caroline to know where they are.”
“And what happens if Fort Caroline finds them?”
My stomach lurches. They wouldn’t do that. Denton and Nadine ran from Fort Caroline, too. They know just how bad they are.
But I can only wallow in delusion for so long before logic brings me back to the real world. If Fort Caroline did find Denton and Nadine here, the two of them could offer information about us in exchange for safety. Because if there was a way to protect everyone here without fighting, they’d do it. I try to hide the realization on my face, but Jamie must see it. Of course he does. He nods.
“So what do we do?” I ask.
“I don’t know.”
The outhouse door opens, and I point at a sink below a water container. “Use your foot on the pedal there,” I tell the Kid.
I watch as he soaps up his hands. Oh God, we really have to leave them all, don’t we? The family we made in the Keys and on the road. Jamie was always right. It’s not safe for them as long as someone is looking for us.
I love Jamie. I love him with all my heart, but I also love everyone else. Cara, Rocky Horror, Amy, Henri-Two, Taylor, the orphans and Kelly, even Niki and Jamar, who feel like part of the family now.
And the Kid.
Shit.
“We go to the cabin,” I say. “Like we always planned. We...” My voice breaks as I try to say the words I don’t want to say. “We let Kelly decide what she wants to do with all the kids, maybe stick with the Nomads. Then you, me, and Cara leave and get Amy home, and we let everyone else figure out what they’re going to do on their own. We don’t tell them where we’re going. We justgo.”
If we were in the woods again, alone, I’d never know. I could tell myself they all lived happily ever after, couldn’t I? If I was livinghappily ever after, surely they’d be doing the same.
That’sifit was happily ever after for us.
“What happens to everyone else?” Jamie asks.
“Done.” The Kid stands at my side, looking up at us.
“Come on,” I tell him. “Let’s get something to settle your tummy.”
The Kid takes my hand and Jamie wraps his arm around my shoulders. What happens to everyone else can just be a mystery. But all the tummy medicine in the world won’t make me feel better about it.
Jamison
WHEN I WAKE UP ON CHRISTMAS MORNING,I feel strange. Not because we’re in a new place, but because of everything that went down yesterday. The anxiety and fear of running into Denton again, then all that coming together with the optimism about Andrew, Cara, and I continuing on our own again after Bethesda.
This is a good thing, but there’s still an uneasy feeling in my gut.
Maybe that’s just because of the meal last night. I wouldn’t call it a feast, exactly, but there was plenty for everyone, which is hard to come by these days.
I help Andrew and Kelly get the kids up and when we enter the common room, there’s already food out, and something smells holiday-spicy, like cinnamon and nutmeg. Most are leftovers from the night before, but there’s a tray of what looks like cookies and small quick breads.
The younger kids all run for the tree—several adults telling them to slow down and line up—but I’m drawn to the cookies and bread. I grab one of the loaves and examine it closely. It’s dark brown and feelsdense. It smells like cinnamon and citrus and looks like there’s dried fruit in it. I show it to Andrew, who grabs a cookie.
“Orange cranberry.” Hannah appears at my side. “The orange flavor is extract, but the dried cranberries are real. The cookies are just spice cookies. We ran out of real flour last year, so that’s chef’s special pine flour.”
“Pine?” Andrew asks. “Like the tree?”
“The bark can be ground into flour.”
He laughs. “Sawdust cookies, nice.”
