Aidan shook his head and mumbled something incomprehensible. Del glared at him, and then turned a poisonous gaze on Lucy.
“Whatever,” she said, and stormed off.
After a long moment, Aidan said, “It’s been a bad day. She’s upset.”
You think? Lucy barely stopped herself from voicing the thought.
Without speaking, they walked to the center of the square. Although it was still midafternoon and bright, the shadows were creeping forward. The sun was suddenly obscured behind boiling black clouds. The air felt heavy.
Rain again, thought Lucy, and then the fat drops fell. In just a few seconds, they became a torrent. Pools of already saturated mud surged under her boots. She felt the weight of the water in the weave of her clothes. Aidan’s shaggy hair was plastered against his scalp. It seemed as if the weather never did anything by half measures anymore.
He pulled her under a pale blue awning, but he released her arm far too soon. At a loss for anything to say, Lucy stared at her feet. Aidan looked toward the wide road by which the Sweepers had come. His face was set. She followed his gaze.
“Where does the road go?” Lucy asked.
“It dips down and follows the shoreline for a few miles and ends up at the island.”
“So they’ve got a straight route from here to there?”
“Yeah, it’s one of the only routes still accessible. They keep it clear for the vans. Otherwise they’d be on foot.”
An older woman, her head covered by a black scarf, dragged a cover over the big pot on the fire and then joined Lucy and Aidan, who instantly made room for her. She walked slowly, as if her joints were stiff. Lucy’s Grandma Ferris had moved like that. Her solid body was swathed in black shawls. Her nose was curved like a beak and she wore heavy gold hoops in her ears, which had elongated the lobes. Lucy recognized her as the woman with the fruits and vegetables. Her black eyes flashed. “They took the priest, Walter, and sad Olive?” she asked Aidan. Her voice was accented, the consonants thickly pronounced. “My little zabkos, too?”
Aidan nodded. “And some others I didn’t know.” She made a guttural noise in her throat and then sighed. “At least Emi and Jack are still together. They had barely settled in.” She sighed again.
She turned toward Lucy. “And who is this?”
Lucy tried to meet her gaze but failed. Water dripped from her hair into her eyes. Her nose was running like a faucet. She thought about wiping it on her sleeve but didn’t. Not in front of this fierce woman.
She pulled her sweatshirt hood up, but it was too late. She was already soaked.
“This is Lucy. She gave the signal,” Aidan said. “And this is Grammalie Rose,” he told Lucy.
The woman stared at her for a long moment. Her dark eyes were framed by thick, black brows. They gave her face a strength that made Lucy nervous. She felt like a mouse pinned by a hawk.
“The howl?”
Lucy cleared her throat. “Yes,” she said in a raspy whisper, and then, louder, “Yeah.” She shot a quick glance at the stern old woman, wondering if that had sounded sort of smart-alecky.
“You are a wolf, perhaps?” She made a dry coughing sound which Lucy realized with surprise was a laugh.
“I just thought the sound would carry. And people would notice.”
The old woman stared at her openly. Her eyes were very black. There was no definition between iris and pupil. It made it hard to look away.
“So,” she said eventually, nodding her head. “Good. We need people like her.”
“What?” said Lucy, glancing at Aidan. The corner of his mouth twisted and then flattened into a thin line again. “I’m not much use in a fight.”
Aidan touched the welt on his cheek. “Yeah, well, neither am I.” He looked down the road and frowned. “Especially when we’re up against Tasers and a plan, and we’ve got nothing but some teenagers and senior citizens with sticks and stones.”
“Tasers?” Lucy echoed. Those were the black boxes she’d seen the Sweepers holding. Stupidly she’d thought they were radios. No wonder the kids had held back.
“They don’t always use them. Not against the young ones at least. It’s as if they don’t want to injure them or something,” Aidan said.
Grammalie Rose said, “They will have their attention on Leo now.”
Aidan nodded.
“So you don’t really know what they’re doing with the people they take?” Lucy asked.
“No idea, but I doubt it’s a spa treatment,” he said.
“Nothing good,” Grammalie said heavily.
They both fell silent.
After a few seconds, Aidan loosened his shoulders. “Grammalie Rose, do you think…?” He paused. She swiveled those piercing eyes toward him.
“Do I think they will come back?” Grammalie Rose exhaled. “Do I think we should try to find them?”
Aidan nodded. His hands were clenched in fists, but Lucy thought he was unaware of it.
“I think that would be both dangerous and foolhardy.” Aidan made an impatient gesture. The old woman raised her hand and pointed her forefinger at his chest. “And I think we will have a meeting soon and hear from everyone.”
“Soon? Tonight?”
She shook her head. “Feelings are running high. Not everyone is here.”
Aidan grunted.
Her black eyebrows bunched. “Okay?” she asked.
“Okay,” said Aidan.
She glanced at Lucy. A quirk appeared in the corner of her mouth.
“I will see you soon, zabko. There are still a few hours of light left.”
“Ummm. Okay.” Immediately Lucy berated herself. Why hadn’t she said she had no intention of hanging around? That she was just passing through?
Grammalie Rose walked away, and Lucy watched her make slow progress, pausing to speak to one person, lay a hand on a bowed shoulder, give a swift hug to a small child who ran up to her, chattering away.
Lucy turned to Aidan, who was flexing his bruised hand. “What’s… jabco?”
“I think it means ‘little frog.’ She calls everybody under sixty that.”
“Oh. So should I be worried? She scares me.”
“She sort of scares me, too, but don’t be nervous.” Aidan stared out into the rain. “I’m glad you came.”
Lucy glared at the ground. She pressed the backs of her hands against her hot cheeks.
“No choice,” she mumbled, and then wished she’d kept her mouth closed.
He shot her a quick smile which turned to a frown. “Why?”
She told him briefly about the tsunami, skipping over the details in case she burst into tears at the thought of her lost camp. The frown got deeper.
“Well,” he said after a long pause. She looked back at him. She’d been focusing with all her might on a cloud shaped like a teapot. “Now you can join us. We all pitch in together. No one is alone.”
She wasn’t at all sure about this. She felt nervous surrounded by people, and there was the danger of the Sweepers. She’d decide later. She could always sneak off in the middle of the night.
Finally she cleared her throat. “Why do you think they take them?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Well, where—”
“To the hospital on the island. That’s where the white vans come from. That’s where the answers have always come from.” He frowned. “And the lies.”
“That makes sense,” Lucy said slowly. She dreaded asking the next question, so she asked a different one. “How many times has this happened?”
“Twice before. They used to grab the older folk, the ones who didn’t move as quickly. But now they’re taking anyone who is healthy. Mostly the kids. Today there were a bunch of people from…” He paused, searching for the correct word. “From elsewhere. Come for the trading. They didn’t know the drill.”