“I know it’s not easy, little one,” she said. “But this is the world we live in, and if we want to keep doing it, sometimes our hands are forced.”
“Lucy?” Ben’s weak voice floated above the still bodies. Lynn rose to her feet, pulling Lucy with her. Ben’s small hands patted out the fires on either side of his father’s skull, surprising Lucy in their gentleness until she realized some of Ben’s own clothing had begun to smolder, and he’d put those sparks out first.
“Ben?” She hovered over him, leaning down as close as she dared to hear his whisper.
“Lucy, we’ve got to go,” Lynn said as she opened a closet and pulled out her rifle, along with a set of keys. “Others live here too, and the storm will be waking them if that ruckus didn’t.”
Ben’s hand grabbed for hers, and she let him hold it. “I think Dad broke my back.”
“Time to go.” Lynn’s hands were on her shoulders, pulling her back from his weak grip.
“B-Ben,” Lucy stuttered, backing away from his pleading eyes and hands still reaching for her. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
The plea changed to wrath in a second, and his hands went from penitence to fists as he struck the floor around him. “You will take me with you! You can’t leave me broken.”
“Ben,” Lucy said from the doorway, “you were broken long before I got here.”
He screamed at them with all the air left inside him, his wordless anger following them down in the lobby, along with the sound of his upper half dragging his useless legs behind him in a futile effort to catch up.
Lucy followed Lynn on wobbly legs to the parking garage. Ben’s screams had brought others from their rooms, but no one was willing to face Lynn’s gun, and they had the streets to themselves. Lucy slid into the passenger seat with relief, dumping her bag in the back and letting her body go entirely slack.
Lynn drove quickly; Lucy watched her eyes darting back and forth in the rearview mirror, not relaxing until they were well beyond the pale fingers of the dead buildings that reached for the sky. The desert opened up around them again, the emptiness of it all somehow reassuring after the cluttered rot of Las Vegas.
“You know where you’re going?” Lucy asked.
Lynn tapped her temple. “It’s all been up here for the past two states.”
“All right,” Lucy said, her head tilting to one side to rest against the cool window. “I trust you.”
The three small words swelled in magnitude in the confines of the car, and Lynn tightened her grasp on the steering wheel. “I want you to know there’s a lot of things in my life I wish I could take back. If I could only choose one, it’d be Carter.”
“I know it,” Lucy said, eyes still shut. “But it’s done now. It is what it is.”
“Maybe so, but I need you to know he asked me for it. Said he couldn’t stand the guilt of dead children, bodies of the people he knew burning in a pit, and him being what put ’em there. He didn’t want to be alone and… he said he couldn’t help but hope you’d be happy, but he hated that it wasn’t with him.”
Tears that she didn’t bother to brush away poured down Lucy’s face. “But it didn’t have to be that way. He didn’t have to die.”
“I didn’t know that, and neither did he. You’re the one that holds on to hope, Lucy. The two of us, we’d already accepted that life is unfair. And he died for it, and I can’t put together enough words to tell you how sorry I am.”
“Neither one of you can be blamed for it,” Lucy said eventually. “This is a hard place we live in.”
“It is indeed,” Lynn answered. The storm finally broke around them, dropping water in great sheets that rolled off the windshield as they headed west.
“But I’m still glad I’m here,” Lucy managed to say as her eyelids closed.
The last thing she heard before she drifted into unconsciousness was Lynn heaving a great sigh and saying, “Lord, I wish I had a five-gallon bucket about now.”
Part Four
OCEAN
Thirty-Four
Lucy resisted when Lynn tried to get her to drink in the morning.
“That’s water from the city,” Lucy said. “I don’t want to drink it.”
Lynn took a swig from her own bottle and swished the water around her mouth. “Knowing what’s in it doesn’t make it taste better, but it’s water all the same.” She handed Lucy the bottle and opened her car door. “Hope you’re not too spoiled by the driving. We’re outta gas.”
“I’ll survive.” Lucy got out, enjoying the feel of the rain-washed air against her skin in the cool morning light. Her lips were dry, and she’d taken a swallow of the water before she had time to think about it.
“How far ’til Sand City?” Lucy asked, looking to the horizon.
“A few hours’ walk is my best guess,” Lynn said.
Lucy leaned against the car. “What do we do when we get there?”
“That’s a good question, and hell if I know,” Lynn said. “I never came up with an answer, as I was never entirely sure we’d make it.”
“California,” Lucy said as she looked to the west. “Kinda seemed impossible, didn’t it?”
Lynn shrugged. “You don’t have to look in that direction, you know. We’re in California right now.”
Lucy turned to the north. “California. Kinda seemed impossible, didn’t it?”
Lynn snorted and threw a handful of sand at her.
They hit a field of wind turbines hours later, the turning white arms bright beneath the sun.
“What’re those?” Lucy asked.
“Kinda like a windmill,” Lynn said. “There was a farm back home had one. Stebbs took me out to see it once. They make electricity, though the one in Ohio was all broken down. It didn’t work anymore.”
“These look like they’re working.”
“Which means we’re close.”
“Electricity…,” Lucy said, remembering Vera’s stories of light after the sun had gone down. “Fletcher said it was here, but I couldn’t hardly believe they were that well off.”
“Could be it’s only used for the desal plants, you know. Something’s gotta run them. I doubt they waste energy on things like lightbulbs. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“I won’t,” Lucy promised, but she couldn’t squash the flutter of excitement in her belly.
They walked through the afternoon, their spirits dropping as unpopulated buildings rose around them. Despite her promise, Lynn clicked the safety off on the rifle, and Lucy didn’t mention it. Their footfalls echoed one another as they walked alone, past a residential district with rusted-out cars sitting quietly in the driveways.
A new scent had found Lucy’s nose, tickling her nostrils and bringing her senses to a high pitch. “You smell that?”
“I think it’s the ocean.”
“The ocean,” Lucy said, taking a deep breath of the salty tang. “Yeah, I imagine it is.”
They moved on, the buildings growing closer together as they went. Lynn became antsy and they went off the highway, picking their way through parking lots with grass growing through ever-widening cracks in the pavement, until they hit the ocean. It rose to meet Lucy, the tide nibbling at her toes as she pulled off her shoes to feel it properly for the first time in her life. The vast blue expanse met the sky, the sun making a new red road on its undulating surface, one that led to the horizon.
“Lucy,” Lynn said quietly. “I’m sorry, little one. There’s no one here.”