Not a Drop to Drink

Nineteen

“It’s insane,” Eli protested the next morning as Stebbs eyed them both over coffee. “I can’t believe you’d even consider letting her go.”

“I’m not in charge of her,” Stebbs said. “If Lynn wants to go, she’ll go, and neither of us can stop her.”

“You could at least tell her you disagree.”

Stebbs took a long drink before answering. “I’m not so sure I do.”

“Thanks,” Lynn said.

“You’re kidding,” Eli said in disbelief.

“Quiet,” Vera chided them from Lucy’s bedside, where the exhausted patient slept restlessly. “She’s out of the woods but can still see the trees. Would you go outside?”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Stebbs said, rising to her feet.

“Stop calling me that, mister,” Vera said, and tossed a dirty pillowcase his direction. “Feel free to wash that once you’re done with your coffee. And once she’s asleep, your pants are coming off.”

Eli and Lynn both froze in mid stride, looking at each other in shock.

“I think she means to look at my leg,” Stebbs explained, and winked at them.

“I might be able to rebreak the original injury and set it correctly,” Vera said in an attempt to cover the blush that crept across her cheeks.

“Well, that’d be good,” Lynn said lamely, and hurried up the stairs, Eli close behind.

Stebbs ignored their teasing glances when he followed them outside. “Look, Eli, I know you don’t like the idea of Lynn going over there to check out their camp, but she’s right. Their strength will grow. If we’re going to do something about it, we need to do it now.”

“And what will we do?”

“I can’t say for sure until I go and look,” Lynn answered. “Could be they’re so strong we can’t do anything. Except leave.”

Hope sprang into Eli’s gray eyes. “You’d do that?”

“Worst-case scenario—maybe.”

“Listen, both of you,” Eli said, glancing between them as he spoke. “In Entargo, there was always this rumor that California was still . . . normal. That they had so many desalinization plants by the sea that they were self-sufficient, had excess even. If that’s true, we should go.”

“Rumor?” Stebbs asked, hitting hard on the word. “Where’d you hear this?”

“It was something that would get repeated a lot, you know? Bradley had heard it through military sources, but he said mostly it was kept quiet so that people wouldn’t leave, to keep them paying for water.”

“Or it’s a mercy to keep fools from wandering out west in search of something doesn’t exist,” Stebbs said. “You’d take Lynn and Lucy thousands of miles on foot without water, exposing them to God knows what on the road?”

“It’s an idea,” Eli said defensively.

“Sorry, Eli,” Lynn said. “I’d rather shoot people in Ohio than walk to California.”

Eli snorted and looked at the ground.

“Look,” Stebbs said, trying to ease the tension between them. “I know you’re not used to the way we live out here. You’ve learned a lot, but the next lesson is a bitch. We’ve got to defend what’s ours, or we die. Lynn’s always known that, she’s lived that way to an extreme that I never went to, but there’s some sense in it. I was too comfortable, too content to see the danger those men posed. Once the smoke stopped to the south, I didn’t think about it anymore.”

“And I wasn’t smart enough to know that what I saw in the sky was the glow from electricity,” Lynn said bitterly.

“You can’t beat yourself up about that, kiddo. Vera said they’re running generators. They’ve got heat going in the houses, on top of electricity. We assumed they died; really they traded up. You had no way of knowing what you were looking at, having never seen a working lightbulb in your life.”

“Where are they getting the gasoline for generators?” Eli asked.

“Trade,” Stebbs said. “They’ve got a few women over there. Vera said a gallon of gas gets you half an hour. They’re set up in South Bloomfield,” Stebbs said. “Lynn, you familiar with that place?”

Lynn nodded. South Bloomfield was a small village by the stream to the south. It was nothing more than a bridge, a cluster of houses and a township hall at the crossroads. She’d raided the houses years ago in search of a pair of scissors.

“I’m going,” she said stubbornly. “Soon as possible.”

“At least let me come with you,” Eli said. “I don’t like the idea of you going alone.”

“Sorry, Eli, but I might as well drive right through town honking the horn as take you with me. You’re as delicate as an elephant in the woods. And Stebbs would slow me down, no offense.”

“I’m getting my leg rebroke. You’ll eat those words one day, missy.”

“’Til then I can still outrun you,” she said, ignoring the dark looks Eli gave her. “I’m going to check on Lucy.”

Vera was sorting through the prescriptions they had found when Lynn got downstairs. “How’d we do?”

“Pretty good, actually,” Vera said, holding out a bottle for Lynn to see. “This one is Augmentin. Normally I’d say it’s a little too strong for someone Lucy’s size, but it’s expired so some of the potency is lost. I’ll start her on it and see where it gets us.”

She handed her another bottle, with only a few small pills inside. “That one is amoxicillin, it’s an all-purpose antibiotic that I’d prefer to give her, but it lacks the punch of the Augmentin and there isn’t enough to keep a stable amount in her bloodstream long enough to kill off all the bacteria. You keep it, and if you ever get a cut that looks bad, take the pills until they’re gone.”

Lynn looked at Lucy, peacefully curled into a ball under her clean blanket, a freshly boiled Red Dog tucked under her chin. “This bacterial infection . . . how did she get it? Was it in the water? Something I gave her to eat?”

“I can’t say for sure how she got it, Lynn. But I can tell you that if you hadn’t been feeding her these past few months, she’d be dead for sure.”

“Right.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s just something that happened.”

“It is what it is—that’s what Mother would always say.”

“She sounds like a smart woman.” Vera smiled at Lynn and touched her shoulder. “I don’t want to upset you, but I’m going to move Lucy over to the stream house. The damp air down here could lay the groundwork for an opportunistic infection.”

“You could move her upstairs,” Lynn offered. “Plenty dry there.”

“Maybe, but the nights still get cold and judging by the ductwork I see here in your basement, there aren’t working fireplaces up there, right?”

“No,” Lynn admitted. “There’s not.”

“Eli said that little shed that he and Stebbs built is tight as a drum, holds the heat and has no drafts. I’m sorry, but in Lucy’s condition it’s the better bet over an old farmhouse.”

“It’s all right,” Lynn said. “I want her healthy. I’ll be fine. When are you leaving?”

“I’d like to take the meds back to the stream today, and get a proper bed set up for her there. If we could all be safely tucked in by nightfall I’d be pleased.”

“Take the cot she’s been using.”

“You’re sure?”

“No need for it here,” Lynn said. “It’ll just be me.”

She made it a point to be up on the roof when they left. Vera sloshed through the muddy yard, a sleeping Lucy slumped over her shoulder. Eli followed with the cot and Vera’s backpack. Stebbs walked beside him, weighed down with medicine, extra blankets, and Mother’s rifle, with instructions to leave it with Eli at the stream house. Lynn knew he would’ve refused it if she’d tried to give it herself, and was relying on Stebbs’ prolific common sense to overrule Eli’s objections.

Eli made it as far as the wood cord before he put down the cot and turned back. Lynn sighed and put her eye back to the scope for a distraction. Vera and Stebbs had stopped to wait for him, and she saw Vera leaning close to Stebbs while he spoke to her. Closer than necessary. Lynn bit her lip to keep the smile from spreading. “Wily asshole,” she said under her breath.

“Hey now,” Eli’s voice came from behind her. “I know you’re not happy with me, but I don’t think I quite deserve that.”

“Not directed at you,” Lynn said, nodding toward the older couple standing in the distance. “Don’t make them wait too long. Lucy needs to get indoors.”

Eli sat beside her on the shingles, ignoring the fact that her attention was focused on the rifle and not him. “I don’t want to go.”

She made sure she had control over her voice before she turned to him. “Vera and Lucy need you.”

“And you don’t.”

The words came out clipped and bitter as the air they landed in, dropping between the two of them like icicles. Lynn dropped her head back to the scope, close enough that her eyelashes brushed the cold metal.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s true though.” Eli looked to the south. “I’m worried about what you’ll do once we leave.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“Done.”

Eli sighed and put a hand on her shoulder. She hesitated a moment, then gripped him back. “Come back,” she said, her shaky voice betraying her. “When you can. When they’re safe.”

“Soon as possible,” he said, his voice husky. Then he was gone. He emerged in the yard, shoulders hunched against the cold, head down against the wind. Lynn covered them with the rifle, not allowing tears to blur her vision until they were out of sight.

When darkness fell, she put on hunting camo, strapped her rifle across her back, and filled a canteen. “It’s not stupid, Eli,” she said as she closed the door and headed south across the field.

South Bloomfield had once been a nice place to live, according to Mother. From her perch in the tree on the ridge, Lynn saw in the rays of the rising sun that most of the homes were brick two-stories with ancient, sagging porches. A few had swimming pools in backyards that now stood empty, except for the carcasses of the animals with the bad luck to fall into them. The town was upstream from Eli and Lucy, at a point where the water widened. The bridge spanning it had been rebuilt just before the Shortage, reinforced with steel guardrails that still held a reflective sheen. A relic of the past loomed over the village—a cell phone tower where Lynn had spotted a sentry once the sun rose.

She envied the tower sentry his position. From his height, the only thing preventing him from seeing forever was the curve of the earth. The bare branches didn’t offer much cover. Lynn knew that once spotted she’d be dead, so she was stuck in the tree until dark fell again. The sentry had been exempted from the daily work in town, which meant he was an excellent shot. Lynn marked him as her first target.

The first activity in town came midmorning. The man she thought of as Blue Coat led three women out of a yellow house near the center of town. He was armed. They were barely clothed. They shivered in the chilly air but didn’t try to cover themselves. The men passing by barely glanced at them; they’d already seen everything on display.

As much as she wanted to kill him, Blue Coat wasn’t her highest priority. He seemed to be in charge of the women and though he was armed, she doubted his capabilities under fire. He’d run his mouth too much when they’d come for Neva, and Lynn had noticed how his eyes were always squirreling away from hers, bouncing off everything in sight. Blue Coat didn’t have the cold stare of someone who could shoot well, or the sense to keep his mouth shut to cover up his nerves. He deserved a bullet, but she’d have to give him his after those more capable.

Blue Coat marched the women to the stream, and they disappeared down the near bank. Lynn watched through her binoculars as they emerged minutes later, dripping wet and clutching themselves to conserve heat. Green Hat walked alongside the youngest girl, and Lynn saw him slip something into her hand before she disappeared into the house again. As tightly as the girl clutched the gift, Lynn guessed it was food.

Lynn kept the binoculars on Green Hat and the line of women filing back into the yellow house. His actions caused a ripple of doubt on the placid surface of her cold rage. He had said he was sorry for Lucy’s illness when they came to take Neva, and Lynn could tell by his eyes that they weren’t empty words. The child’s illness had bothered him, and he had helped Neva up from the frozen ground as she’d stumbled toward her death.

In the past, it had been easy to know who her enemies were—anyone not Mother. But even though he was clearly a part of the group of men, Lynn couldn’t bring herself to watch him through the rifle scope with her finger curled on the trigger. Slipping extra food to the starving, nearly naked young girl wasn’t an action she could account for in someone she needed to kill, and so she marked Green Hat as a question mark. She’d kill him or not, depending on how he reacted once the lead was flying.

The man who had been on her roof watched everything from his position in front of the town hall, the only building under guard. He sat in a lawn chair in the parking lot with a rifle across his knees. Green Hat wandered away from the yellow house and made conversation with him for a few minutes but didn’t succeed in fully gaining his attention. The guard was constantly watching the movement in the streets, the other men, and the people who had come to trade. Green Hat couldn’t distract him, and he changed his position when men not a part of their group came into the village so that he could cover them with his gun. Lynn marked him as her second target.

Traders were filing into town as noon approached, the sun glinting off the melting snow and giving Lynn a headache. People filtered in and out, more than she would have guessed existed in their small corner of the world. She couldn’t see well enough to know what everyone had brought to trade, but red gasoline containers were easy to spot, as were the round portable propane tanks.

A man and woman appeared on the road, walking hesitantly toward town. She held a bundle protectively against her chest. Lynn squinted into the binoculars and could see a tiny fist jutting from the top of the blanket, entangled in her hair. As they approached the center of town, a man emerged from the largest house and hailed them from the porch. Lynn switched to her rifle.

He was unknown to her. Tall and broad through the shoulders, with red hair and a confidence about him that immediately said he was in charge. He greeted the couple with familiarity. Lynn could see by the wary look on the woman’s face that she knew enough about him to be frightened. The husband gestured toward the baby in his wife’s arms. The redhead nodded and smiled as if he understood but shrugged off their questions, pointing to the church next to the town hall.

The woman disentangled the baby’s fist from her hair and handed the bundle to her husband. She walked to the church with her head down. Lynn could hear the high-pitched wailing of the baby from her position in the trees, even as the father rocked it in his arms. The woman knocked on the door of the church, and Gap Tooth—Roger, Vera said his name was—opened it.

Behind him, she caught a flash of black and white, and Lynn nearly rolled out of the tree in surprise. There was a cow in the church, a dairy cow. There was a pail swinging from the father’s elbow as he walked the baby up and down the porch of the brick house. The mother disappeared inside the church with Roger. Lynn hoped the doors were thick enough to stop the cries of her child while she did what she had to do to feed it.

Other traders came. Tall Red stayed on his porch, where a line began to form. He sat at a table with a pencil and paper, figured out what the traders wanted, what they’d brought to trade for it, and whether or not it was acceptable. One man brought a five-gallon jug of gasoline to the table and walked away with an entire deer carcass over his shoulder.

Those less lucky traded their own bodies or the bodies of their women. Tall Red never took them into the house himself, but Blue Coat, Roger, and a man with a black beard each took payment at different times during the day. One woman came begging for water, empty buckets in her hands and children clinging to her legs. Green Hat played with the children to distract them while Black Beard took the woman down to the stream far longer than necessary to gather water.

Lynn decided not to shoot Green Hat.

Tall Red dickered extensively with a man who had driven a truck loaded down with blankets, pallets of canned vegetables, and a mattress. Tall Red kept shaking his head, and the man walked back to his truck, emerging with a pack of cigarettes, which turned the tide. Tall Red scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to him, directing the man toward the town hall. The guard there looked at the paper, spat, and stuck it in his back pocket. Roger and Black Beard emptied the truck while the man followed the guard out of town toward the east. They appeared minutes later dragging a wood splitter behind them.

The sound of an engine caused Lynn to jolt. A huge truck with no muffler roared into town, the bed so loaded with goods that it rested on the back axles. Two men jumped down from the bed and began unloading the truck, carting their loot into the town hall where the guard kept a tally. Two more men emerged from the cab. Lynn began counting on her fingers. The presence of the looters swung the odds in their favor. A long way in their favor.

The sun was beginning to swing back toward the horizon when one man took a bundle of food to the cell tower, where the sentry lowered down a bucket for his lunch, taking a leisurely piss off the side afterward. Roger led the cow from the church to an overgrown yard and tied it to a post to graze. The looting party gathered on the porch with Tall Red, their feet propped on the railings, heads lolled back in idle conversation. The stream of visitors slowed, then stopped entirely as the long shadows drew dark marks in the old snow.

The sentry came down from the tower after dusk, his skills rendered useless. The guard at the town hall switched out with a less vigilant looter, and the unfamiliar glow of electricity came from inside the houses. The cow lowed to be let back inside and Roger returned it to the church. The slight breeze that had been blowing died down enough that Lynn could hear the squeaking of bedsprings and the whir of generators, while Tall Red remained on the covered porch, keeping watch over all.

There were lights still on in some houses when Lynn tumbled out of her tree, legs numb with disuse. She flexed her neck and arms, keeping her eyes on the town below her. There was still a guard in front of the town hall; with her naked eyes, she could make out his dim, dark shape beneath the electric light that shone over the parking lot. The houses at the west and east ends of town each had a guard on the porch. Beyond the arc of the warm glow of electricity, Lynn could see nothing. There could be guards in the dark, there could be no one.

Lynn crept east through the woods. The man who traded for the wood splitter came prepared with a truckload of goods in exchange. If the men were willing to part with one they probably had more, and a guard to watch over them as well. She’d counted eleven men in all, and didn’t need the surprise of a twelfth if she and Stebbs chose to attack.

She crossed the road to the east and fought her way through brush to the stream. The moon came out, illuminating in stark brilliance that there was no choice.

She burst through Stebbs’ door without knocking, causing him to whirl on her with a frying pan raised above his head.

“Christ child, Lynn! What are you doing?”

“They’re building a dam.”