The Farm (26 page)

I tried to remember the McKenna I’d known in the Before. “Careless” was the best word to describe her. Carelessly beautiful and confident. Carelessly popular. Like it was never any work to be charming, funny, or cruel, depending on who she was with and what that person could do for her.

Now she just looked . . . worn, I guess. I couldn’t reconcile the person she used to be with the one she was now. Did she have the same difficulty with me? Was there anything left of either of those girls?

McKenna wore a pair of black leggings and a bulky cable-knit sweater. Her skin was pale, her hair pulled back. The dark hollows under her eyes a testament to how uncomfortable the long car ride had been for her. One hand rested on the bulge of her belly. I’d never thought of McKenna Wells as the type of girl who’d be whipped, but that was how she looked. Like life had beaten her down.

Maybe I looked that bad, too. Without meeting her gaze, I walked around her to the sink. I set the light on the counter, shining it away so I wouldn’t have to look at my reflection and find out.

The water from the sink wasn’t at full pressure, but thankfully there was soap in the dispenser and I gave my hands a quick, much-needed scrub in the trickle of water.

“I’m sorry about Mel,” McKenna said. There was a quiver in her voice.

I grunted in reply, turning the water off.

“When you went back out to help Carter, she was in the back of the van. Just sitting there. I made sure of it when I went to sit next to Joe. One minute she was there, the next she was gone. I—”

“It’s not your fault.” I didn’t say it to ease her guilt. I just couldn’t listen to her apologies. I didn’t want to feel sorry for her or responsible for her. I didn’t want the connection between us to be any stronger. “She’s my responsibility. Not yours.”

I reached past McKenna to pull a paper towel from the dispenser.

“I’m sorry about Joe, too,” she said softly.

I pretended not to know what she meant. I dried my hands, then turned the water back on and wet the paper towel.

“When he said he could get me out, I didn’t know what he had planned.”

I scrubbed it over my face and neck. I shook it out and refolded it to expose a clean side, then ran it over the back of my neck and arms. I tried to ignore her, but damned if she didn’t keep talking.

“I had no idea that he’d turned you in to—”

“What did you think he’d done?” Whirling on her, I balled up the paper towel and shot it past her toward the trash can in the wall. It missed. I ignored it. “You can’t tell me that you thought you guys could just waltz out without putting anyone else in danger. That you thought—”

“Why not? You thought that.” She bumped up her chin and took a tiny step closer to me. “When you went to him to get that stuff for Mel, did you think about how much trouble he’d get in if he got caught? Did you worry about his safety?”

“That’s different!”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t do this for myself. I did it for Mel. She’s—”

“And he and I did it for our baby. You think that’s any less noble?”

“I—” Whatever argument I was going to say got caught in my throat. Because she was right and I didn’t want her to be.

Protecting an innocent baby. A baby, for God’s sake. No. That was probably more noble than protecting Mel.

But it was McKenna Wells’s baby. A Breeder’s baby. I couldn’t let myself care about a Breeder’s baby. None of us knew what was going to happen to all those Breeder babies. The possibilities were so horrific, if I stopped to think about them, I’d completely unravel.

Suddenly I wondered if this wasn’t the root of all this anger I’d been carrying around toward Joe and McKenna. I didn’t want to care about their baby. If I did, would I have to start caring about all those babies? All the Greens? All the kids?

It was so overwhelming. The weight of millions on my shoulders. And if Carter was right and I was an
abductura
, then how could I ignore that responsibility? I couldn’t. If he was right, then I’d have to fight. I’d be in it forever. I would go from being responsible for myself and Mel to being responsible for the life of every teenager in the United States. Christ, was it any wonder I didn’t want this?

I fought against a rising tide of panic.

“I don’t have time for this.” I grabbed the light and pushed past her toward the door.

“If it makes any difference at all,” she said from behind me, “it really is Joe’s baby.”

For the first time I considered the possibility that she really cared about Joe. I thought about when Joe had hit his head in the van and how she’d tended to him first, even though her own back had those terrible scratches on it. I paused, my palm against the open bathroom door, listening without turning around.

“In the Before, we’d hang out sometimes. Mostly during the summer. We’d smoke a little and, you know, hook up. Matty was away at football camp all that summer, so you know . . . I know it’s Joe’s.”

Matty had been McKenna’s boyfriend. The quarterback. The other half of the school’s golden couple.

I glanced back at her. Her hands were clenched in front of her belly, her head ducked. A lock of dingy hair, blond except for the three inches at the roots, hung in front of her face. A single tear glistened on her cheek.

I looked from her belly to her face and back again. Ah, Christ. She was telling the truth. There was no other way to see it. No wonder her belly was so big. She wasn’t showing it off. She was just much farther along than any of the other Breeders. No, scratch that. She wasn’t a Breeder. She hadn’t picked this.

She was tearing away the last shreds of my hatred for her. The ones I’d clung to so doggedly. I still didn’t want to like her or befriend her. I still didn’t want to care. I couldn’t afford to care because I couldn’t save everyone. I couldn’t even keep my sister safe. How was I supposed to save the world?

She looked up. “I just wanted you to know. In case it makes any difference at all.”

I wanted to tell her it didn’t.

I also wanted to promise I’d do anything I could to get her to Canada.

And I kinda wanted to walk back into one of the stalls and puke because suddenly the weight of this
abductura
thing was so heavy on my shoulders it was giving me acid reflux.

I didn’t do any of that. I just set the penlight down on the counter and walked out.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Lily

After I left the bathroom, I stood there leaning against the wall beside the door for a second, just getting myself back under control. I felt ragged and thin. Tired beyond belief. And I didn’t have any shred of a plan that would actually get my sister back. When I opened my eyes, they adjusted quickly to the darkness. I heard McKenna at the bathroom door and I scurried away.

I was looking for somewhere to hide for a minute and I slipped into the door just across the hall. It must have been the church office because there were a couple of desks and some ancient computers. Bulletin boards with old flyers on the walls. To the left of the door was a long console table with fake flowers, cloying potpourri, and a fan of summer camp pamphlets. A basket sat on the far end with something inside. Walking closer, I frowned. Why had Carter left the keys to the van in here?

For a second, I considered taking them. I could take the van and leave. Go after Mel. But I wouldn’t do that. Even knowing they’d most likely be able to find another car in the morning, I couldn’t leave them vanless overnight.

I picked up the keys to bring them back to Carter, only to realize they weren’t for the van. The Chevy logo on the key was the same, but there were a couple of other keys on the ring. And the Chevy one looked older. Just a key. No unlock button.

I held the mystery keys in my hand for a second, thinking about the Impala in the parking lot, when Carter stepped through the doorway.

“There you are.”

“Sorry. I just . . .” I hesitated. I didn’t want to tell him about the key. I knew what he’d say. He’d never let me go alone and I couldn’t ask him to go with me. That would put him at risk as well as Joe and McKenna.

So instead, I slipped the key into my pocket and said, “I just needed a moment.”

He nodded his understanding. “About Mel—”

I interrupted him. “There’s running water.”

For a second, he looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead he nodded. “We should fill up our water bottles now. Who knows how long it will stay on. Come on, the sanctuary is this way.”

I fell into step beside him, only vaguely aware of Joe coming out of the men’s restroom and waiting for McKenna beside the door to the ladies’. She must have needed a minute to herself, too.

“I’ll get Joe and McKenna settled in the sanctuary and you can drop off Mel’s bag. Then we’ll look for more bottles. We shouldn’t drink any of the water until we’ve boiled it or used those purification tablets.”

He rattled off a list of other things we needed to do. Double-check that the windows were secure. Look for supplies. Search for candles.

By then we’d reached the double wooden doors to the sanctuary. He held one open and let me pass. A couple dozen wooden pews formed V-shaped rows facing the pulpit. Carter had already deposited some of the gear in the empty floor space between the front row and the choir seating.

Joe and McKenna filed in after us. Carter pointed to the seats.

“The seat cushions are worn, but if we stack enough of them, they’ll make a decent pallet. McKenna, you should get off your feet and lie down. Sleep if you can.”

I blew out a breath and forced a smile. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll stay here with her while you and Joe do . . . all that other stuff.”

“No.” Carter nodded Joe in the direction of the cushions. “Joe, you stay with McKenna. Lily, you’re with me.”

“What? Why?”

I glanced around, but Joe was already shoving bench cushions under his arms and McKenna was waddling toward the pulpit.

Carter pinned me with a look before grabbing my arm and steering me back out to the hall. “You’re with me because I need you here. Where I can keep you safe.”

“Why wouldn’t I be safe in the sanctuary?”

Carter didn’t glance in my direction. He pushed open the swinging door that led into the church’s kitchen. “Oh, come on, Lily. Don’t play dumb. I know exactly what you’re planning to do.”

My mouth gaped as he started looking through cabinets. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He pointed to the row of cabinets. “Look over there. We’re looking for water bottles, matches, food, first aid. Anything like that.”

Shrugging, I opened a cabinet and started poking through the sort of cheap, overused kitchen utensils that were common to church kitchens. “I’m not planning anything.”

He slammed a door shut. “You were going to wait until we were distracted, then you were going to go look for Mel on your own.”

I snapped my mouth shut. Shit, he knew me better than I knew myself.

“Well, okay. But it wasn’t a plan yet.”

“Then why’d you grab the keys from the church office?”

Double shit. Did nothing get by him?

I slammed one cabinet shut and moved on to the next. I hit the jackpot with a cabinet full of candles. Everything from scented jarred candles to ceremonial candles to a whole big box of white Christmas Eve service candles. The kind that aren’t meant to burn for long. Cheaply made and quickly thrown away. A symbol of hope that would have been freely handed out in the Before, but that wouldn’t burn long enough to do us much good now.

Still, I pulled down the big box first and then started loading the other candles inside on top of the cheap Christmas ones.

“Look, it wasn’t a plan. Not yet. Just more of an instinct.”

“That’s what your gut tells you to do? Ditch us and storm off your own? Headlong into danger?”

His side of the kitchen had gone suddenly quiet and I got the feeling he was watching me. I didn’t know what to say to him. The truth was, I no longer knew what to do. I’d strayed so far off the path I’d set out on, I wasn’t sure I could make my way back.

My hand clenched around a peppermint-scented Yankee Candle. I ducked my head. “My instincts tell me to protect my sister. They tell me that she’s out there. Alone. And scared. In the hands of a man who’s betrayed the entire human race. And he’s not even the worst thing out there. There are monsters that will kill her in an instant.” I dropped the candle into the box, not caring that it was heavy enough to smash the more delicate candles beneath it. “And if you think I can just hunker down in the safety of this church while she’s out there at the mercy of the Ticks, then you’re completely delusional.”

I felt Carter’s hand on my shoulder and his touch stripped away the layers of numbness that had coated my emotions since the Dean took Mel. The nonstop adrenaline fest of a day. The constant fear. The bone-deep betrayal. The burden. The fear. The cost of just living in this world. It all hit me at once and I cracked under the pressure like one of the cheap Christmas candles. And suddenly I wasn’t just exhausted or scared. I was damn near hysterical.

“Don’t worry,” Carter was saying, though I could barely hear him past the blood rushing in my ears. “We’ll get her back.”

I shook his hand off my arm, but he didn’t let go. I fought against him for a moment, but then my anger faded into sobs.

I don’t know how long I stood there, crying in Carter’s arms. But I cried until my throat felt raw and my legs gave way under me. I felt him slide us to the floor and cradle me in his lap. Vaguely I became aware of his hand stroking my hair and his arm strong and solid at my back.

It felt good sitting there in his arms. Too good. I pushed him away.

“Lily—”

I didn’t want to talk about my emotional outburst, so I got up and shoved my hands into my pockets and headed for the kitchen door. “Since there’s food here we can bring with us, I’m going to go get some of the backpacks to put it in.”

Carter reached the door before I did. He held out his hand. “Give me the keys.” He sighed. “You know I can’t let you go out there alone.”

“I’m not asking you to go with me. McKenna and Joe need you here.”

“Leaving right now would be stupid. You don’t even know where they are.”

“They’re heading back to the Farm, right? I’ll follow them.”

“Yes, we know he headed south, but you don’t know that’s where they’re going. The Dean doesn’t want Mel; he wants you. He’ll stay nearby. But until we know where they are, leaving the church would just be stupid. You don’t even know if the car will start.” He looked me right in the eye. “But if you’re leaving, I’ll go with you.”

Damn it.

I didn’t want him to risk his life for me again. By offering to come, he’d all but guaranteed I wouldn’t go myself. I gritted my teeth, yanked the keys from my pocket, and dropped them into his hand. “Fine. We’ll wait until morning.”

A few minutes later, I carried a couple of backpacks into the church’s kitchen and dumped them on the counter. After I set them down, I realized that one of them was Mel’s backpack. The pink flowered one. My hand shook a little when I unzipped it. I’d kept Mel’s backpack light on purpose. I hadn’t wanted her to have to carry too much. I knew she wouldn’t complain even if the pack was too heavy for her, just as she wouldn’t complain about the cold. So there was still some room where I could pack in some supplies.

The canned food we’d found was too valuable to leave. If I was going to head back for the Farm, I didn’t know how much longer my trip was going to be. Mel and I would need all the provisions we could get. Still, I knew I couldn’t ditch any of Mel’s stuff. When I found her again, she’d need the clothes in the bag. She’d need her stuffed flying squirrel and her Slinky, too.

I unpacked the bag so I could put the heavier canned food in the bottom. Instead of putting her extra shirt back in the bag, I layered it under my hoodie. I did the same with one of the pairs of socks. That bought me a little more room and I started repacking the bag.

I left Squirrel and Slinky for last, so they’d be on top. Mel had had Squirrel since she was five. We’d each gotten one in our stockings that Christmas. Mel had immediately become attached to hers and had carried it around as her snuggle for years. I’d loved mine, too, and had cuddled with it at night. Then when we were twelve, Mel had lost her squirrel at the Omaha airport. She’d cried so hard we got kicked off the plane and Mom had to rent a car to drive us back to Dallas. Once we got home, I’d taken my squirrel off the bookshelf, where he’d sat for the past few years since I’d decided I was too old to sleep with him, and given him to Mel. She’d cuddled him just like he was her own.

At the time, I hadn’t minded giving up a loved toy so Mel could be happy and calm. I needed her happiness as much as I needed my own. On the Farm, I may have resented the burden of taking care of her, but it had given me purpose. It had kept me together.

What would I do if I didn’t get her back? How could I live without her?

My hand convulsed on the stuffed squirrel and tears flooded my eyes. I made myself let go of the snuggly. I carefully tucked him inside the Slinky in the top of the backpack and brushed the tears away with the back of my hand. Then I zipped the backpack closed.

“You okay?” Carter asked from behind me.

I turned to see him walking into the room. I felt suddenly vulnerable, standing there crying over a stuffed animal. “I’m good,” I lied and offered up a wobbly smile.

He studied me for a second and I caved under his scrutiny, turning back around to fiddle with the backpack, pretending to check the pockets for something.

He must have seen my feint for what it was, because he came to stand beside me, resting his butt against the countertop so he faced me. “Are you?” he asked. He reached out to brush a tear from my cheek. “’Cause it looks like you’ve been crying again.”

I let my eyes drift closed for a second. His hand felt good on my cheek. Warm and reassuring. I wanted to throw myself in his arms again. I wanted to tell him about Mel’s squirrel and how worried she must be. I wanted to lean on him. Depend on him. Trust him to take care of me and to get Mel back, but if I lost it now, how would I ever get myself back under control enough to go out and search for Mel?

I couldn’t tell him the truth, but at the same time I didn’t want to lie outright. So I fudged and shared a half-truth. “I can’t help wondering about the people who used to come to church here.” I nudged a can of tuna with my finger. “About the people in the town. Wondering where they are.”

Carter ran a hand up and down my arm. It was a touch that was meant to be comforting, but it only made me more aware of him. His body seemed to radiate warmth in the otherwise cold kitchen. His hands were strong and capable. He’d used them to keep me safe in a terrifying world.

I felt guilty for enjoying all of that when so many people had died. When my sister was out there, all alone with the Dean. I felt unworthy of taking comfort from him, but I still didn’t push him away.

“You ever think about the world in the Before?” I asked. “You ever long for it?”

His mouth twisted into something that might have been a smile, but wasn’t. “My life in the Before wasn’t that great.”

I turned to look at him, but his expression was distant. “Military school pretty tough?” I asked.

He chuckled then. “Yeah. But that wasn’t what I meant.” He paused for a moment, like he was going to pick and choose what to say. Then the words rushed out of him. “You and Mel have always had each other. You’ve always been close. But I’ve never—” He shook his head. “I’ve never had anyone in my life that cared about me like that.”

“Surely your parents . . .” I said weakly. But really, I didn’t know jack about his family other than their general income bracket.

He snorted. “Yeah, my parents. Real winners. School was never bad. It was all the other stuff.”

All the other stuff? All the wealth and privilege? But I guess even rich families can be horrible. Maybe they’re even worse than others. I did know this: no matter what was going on in your life, if your family stuff was messed up, it affected everything. Suddenly I felt sorry for him because I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to have no one who cared about you. I would do anything for Mel and I knew, in her own way, she felt the same. Even though our dad bolted, I’d always known they both loved us.

Since he didn’t seem to want to say more, I let it go. We were all allowed to keep our secrets.

Instead I asked, “So you think you’d still be in military school, then?”