He picked up the cutting board and transferred the meat into a plastic serving bowl. “Come on,” he said, grabbing her arm. He led her to where the others were standing around a large pot on the fire. It was blackened iron and big enough to bathe a child in. About forty pounds of carrots and onions simmered at the bottom. The smell that rose was heady. Henry stirred the mixture occasionally with a long wooden spoon. A young girl, maybe eleven years old, with long blond pigtails was cutting up the last of the potatoes, helped by two small kids and a gray-haired old man with a walrus mustache. Grammalie Rose was no longer there.
“Ready for this?” Aidan asked Henry, hefting the bowl of meat.
“Sure, pile it on,” Henry said. “Potatoes next, Sue,” he told the pigtailed girl. He lifted a bucket of water and held it poised for a few seconds before upending it into the sizzling pot.
The good smells were making Lucy woozy. She sat down on a bench and closed her eyes, letting the fragrant steam wash over her.
Aidan sat down beside her. “About fifteen minutes,” he said with an amused tone in his voice. “Can you bear it?”
“Possibly not.”
“Well, at least we eat first,” he said.
“We?” Henry said, waggling his eyebrows at Aidan. “And how exactly have you helped with this fine meal?”
“I believe I hauled that water,” Aidan said. “And I washed up last night.”
Henry spread his fingers. “All right, all right.” He turned to Lucy. “Can you help Aidan with the bowls and spoons?” He pointed toward the stacks of mismatched kitchenware. “We need thirty, forty of everything.”
Lucy grabbed a handful of spoons and shoved them in her back pocket. She stacked bowls along the length of her arm and anchored them with her chin. It was a brave move. One clumsy step and she’d drop everything; but amazingly she made it to the table safely. She set the places. Aidan put down plates, water jugs, and three more loaves of the crusty bread, and scattered a few bread knives along the length of the rough pine table. He started cutting slices and, grabbing a knife and another loaf of bread, she did the same. With half an ear she listened to the surrounding chatter.
People materialized from the corners of the kitchen tent, wiping their wet hands on their pant legs, removing stained aprons, and stretching sore neck muscles. They each grabbed a bowl and lined up for a few ladles of thick stew. Dishes clattered. A dozen conversations were going at once. Lucy felt the familiar shyness creep into her bones. It was like the high school cafeteria. She’d always eaten alone, outside in the quad or in the library. Aidan pulled her to her feet and shoved a bowl into her hands. “If you don’t get in there, you’ll never eat,” he said, elbowing a space for her.
Henry grinned as he served her. He leaned forward and winked. “I gave you a little extra.”
She smiled shyly and sat down at the far end of the table, away from the little clusters of people. For the next few minutes, she concentrated on eating. It wasn’t until she looked up that she realized Aidan was sitting right across from her. He was smirking like a maniac.
“Never saw anyone actually inhale food before,” he remarked.
“Oh God, I…” She put her hand up to her mouth and wiped it clean. A few spots of stew were speckled across the front of her shirt. There may even have been some caught in her hair. She wished she could just sink through the floor.
He pointed to the corner of his lip and tapped.
“What?”
“You missed a spot.”
He half stood up and reached across the table. Was he going to touch her? And then suddenly he jerked away.
“Make room,” Del barked, squeezing in next to him. The kid she’d forced farther along the bench glared at her but said nothing. He just picked up his bowl and turned to his neighbor, Sue. They bent their heads together, whispering furiously and darting covert glances at Del.
“Hi,” Lucy said, determined not to get into a situation with her again. She even managed a small smile before returning her attention to her bowl.
Del stared, then nodded.
Score one maturity point for Lucy! She carefully scooped up a minute amount of stew and carried it to her mouth. The food had reached her stomach, and she felt a soothing warmth spread to her limbs. I could fall asleep right here on the table, she thought. She listened sleepily to Del.
“Did you scout today?” she asked Aidan. “I couldn’t find you.”
He shook his head. “I went a mile or two up the road. I thought about setting permanent sentries, but there’s too much area to cover.”
“What about pit traps? We could dig some around the periphery and then just keep watch by the road,” Del said.
“Too dangerous for the little kids. You know they run around everywhere.”
“Well, how about blocking it off? Then they couldn’t drive the vans up to the camp.” Del banged her spoon against the table for emphasis.
Aidan rubbed his forehead. He looked as if he hadn’t slept for a week. “Leo figured out that it would take a ton or more of rubble to block it off. We can try, but it’ll take weeks. And it’s harvest time. We can’t really spare people from the fields right now.”
“There must be something!” Del stared at the table. “What’ll they do to them?” she asked suddenly in a gentle voice, sounding completely unlike herself. “To Emi and Jack?”
“They’ll be okay.”
She gripped his arm hard. Aidan winced. “Promise me.”
He shook his head, looking uncomfortable.
Del subsided into a stormy silence. The conversation along the table had dwindled, the sound of cutlery against bowls quieted; people finished and left. Others hauled water for washing up. Lucy was thankful not to be summoned for more chores. She rested her head on her arm.
Things were bad. She was scared, but she was also not hungry for the first time in months. She felt strong and revitalized. If she had to, she could run for miles, cross New Venice, and find somewhere safe on the outskirts. Or travel farther. North, perhaps, like Aidan had said.
She didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until someone shook her gently by the shoulders. She opened drowsy eyes and looked into Aidan’s face. Directly behind him stood Del, her arms crossed tightly, her mouth flattened in a line.
“Del said you could share her sleeping tent,” Aidan said, helping her to her feet.
“Scout’s been sleeping somewhere else anyway,” Del said with a bitter laugh. She didn’t look as if she’d offered freely, but at this point Lucy didn’t care. She swayed and shook her head, trying to drive the cobwebs from her brain.
Aidan picked up her backpack and handed it to her. She clasped it to her chest. He led the way inside a small tent tucked between the gutted remains of two buildings. Trickles of the day’s fading light fell through gaps between the canvas panels. Lucy caught a glimpse of three tarps on the ground arranged around an unlit hurricane lamp, two covered with blankets and clothing, before Aidan pushed her gently toward the third. She bumbled forward, tripping over her feet, and let the backpack slide to the ground as she sank down to her knees. Too tired to even dig out her sleeping bag, she pulled her sweatshirt and jacket firmly around her, tucked her knees in, and curled up on her side. She was asleep again almost immediately.
CHAPTER TEN
ATTACK!
Lucy was awakened by an excruciating pain in her wounded hand. She opened her mouth to scream but someone’s fingers pinched it shut before she could emit a sound.