The Land of the Shadow (12 page)

Pearl took both. She examined the gun and found a small button that caused the cartridge in the butt to pop down. She took it out and counted the shells in the clip before putting it back. She took aim at the speed sign beside the road and pulled the trigger. The shot rang loud and caused the birds to scatter before drifting back down to their sentinel posts. She had clipped the edge of the sign. Not bad for the first shot she’d ever fired. She would get better.

She found the safety on both and slipped the guns down into her waistband. She felt a crinkle as she did so and frowned. She reached into her pocket and found the picture of herself, her mother, and her sister. But that was of the old world, too. She slid it back into her pocket.

She was already making plans to find a gun store and get herself a holster and more ammunition. She made her way through the street, still heading east, out of the city.

Pearl had no desire to head back down into the tunnels to continue her dark journey where it had seemed safer. The fear was gone. She supposed there were only so many times a person could face fear so intense they thought they would go mad with it before it was burned out of them, a fire that consumed but did not destroy. And she would never be afraid or helpless again.

Pearl arched up from the porch swing and reached into her back pocket, pulling out a crumpled photo. Justin could just make it out in the darkness. Three women on a beach, the sun shining on their shoulders, their faces stretched in grins. The surface of the photo was scratched and rubbed white in some spots. Pearl took it back and traced her finger over the bare places.

“It will be worn blank in a few years,” she said. “And all I’ll have is my memories, but maybe that’s best. I’m not this girl anymore. She died with all the rest of them. When she died in that tunnel, so did my fear, but that wasn’t the only part of me that went. Sometimes, I worry what I’m changing into. It’s as though I’m watching myself emerge from a cocoon, and I have no control over what I’ll become.”

Justin nodded, though she wasn’t looking at him. “You evolved. You evolved to meet the needs of your environment. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Then I look at someone like Carly, and I’m—” Pearl bit off the last of her words and stared out at the darkened yard.

“Don’t let Carly fool you,” Justin said with a slight smile. “She may look soft, but she can do what she has to do. And she struggles with it, just like you do. The problem both of you have is that you’ve managed to let go of so much to become who you needed to be, but you can’t let go of notions from the dead world. Not all of them have to go, of course. But they do need to adapt.”

He stood. He paused beside her and gave her shoulder a small pat before he departed, heading off into the night the same way that he’d come. He’d gotten what he came for.

What he wished for, more than anything, was that Lewis were here. Lewis, who had been the one to talk to Justin when he had the similar struggles. He hadn’t been much of a counselor, because his words were often harsh and cold as the cut of a knife, but he knew how to get to the heart of the matter and somehow always knew what needed to be said.

But, then again, Lewis would have said to Pearl the same thing he’d said to Justin, that their emotions were the source of their weakness. And over the last couple of years, Justin had come to realize the strength and value of emotions, especially love. He’d once made some bad decisions based on his emotions, but since those days, he’d made some pretty good ones, too.

Love
. He smiled to himself and turned his path toward home. Home, where people loved him.

Carly was still awake when he came up to their bedroom, reading by a kerosene lamp. She smiled at him and held her arms out. Happy to go into them, he gave her a kiss, sitting down beside her on the bed.

“Home from prowling?” she asked.

“I wasn’t prowling tonight. I was talking with our newest resident.”

“What do you think?”

“I think she’s going to fit in fine.”

Carly laughed. “Is that all you’re going to say?”

He nodded. “It’s all that’s important.”

He stood and went to undress, hanging up his clothes—they weren’t able to wash everything after one wearing like the old days. He pulled on a T-shirt and shorts, then climbed into his warm bed next to his wife. This was one of his favorite parts of the day, when he felt most content. This was a place where he belonged. Though he hadn’t realized it, he’d been searching for this all his life, and he had it at last.

“I guess it is.” Carly plumped up his pillow before he lay down beside her. “I’m glad you’re home. I always worry when you’re out there, you know.”

“I know. I worry about you, too. ‘Safe’ doesn’t really exist anymore. There are so many things—”

“Chicken thieves . . . alligators.”

“Don’t remind me.” He groaned and pulled up the sheet. It was all the covering they could stand in the heat.

“I feel safe with you.” She snuggled up against his side. “And I know you’ll do your best to keep our community safe. And your best is pretty darn good.”

“I’ll do anything I can to protect you and Dagny,” he said. “ ’Til my dying breath.”

“And the new world we’re building . . . it feels strange to think this is the beginning of someone’s history book. Like, we’re the Pilgrims, the new settlers.”

He smiled. He always liked when Carly had these grandiose fantasies. It meant she thought of their story as having a happy ending. That fate really was leading them, and the generations that would come after them, to a great destiny.

“Someday, they will write poems about you. The legend of the warrior-king.”

Carly said it in a light, teasing manner, but he knew she did wonder about it. How they would be remembered. How they would be judged for the decisions they made in its creation, and its protection.

“Someday, they will write fairy tales about you,” Justin replied. “The Druid Queen who could call animals to her side, whose judgments were compassionate and just, and whose beauty was like the summer sunshine.”

She smiled. “You are quite the poet yourself.”

“Will they remember how much I loved you? That’s the most important part of the story. I want the world to remember that. I want to write it in the stars.”

She turned and kissed him, and then there was no more need for words.

Chapter Five

The sunlight was fierce, beating down on her back. Carly dropped a piece of potato down into the hole and began to form the earth around it. She had a momentary urge to take a bite out of the thing. She’d been craving a baked potato for weeks. She’d hoped with the last harvest they would have enough to start eating them, but no, they all needed to go back into seed. She remembered the disappointment on the faces of her friends as they’d begun to dig and pulled up small numbers of little potatoes, some as small as a gumball.

What were they doing wrong? The weather had been mostly sunny and the rainfall had been good. This was their second sad harvest of potatoes, which she’d always believed were the easiest crop to grow. Just stick an eye in the ground and dig up a bountiful bag of them. But nothing seemed to be growing well. Something had to be wrong with the soil, she thought. Maybe if there were some fertilizer.

“You need to take a break,” Justin said.

She looked up to see him standing behind her and gave him a brief smile before she shook her head.

“After I get this row done.” She rubbed the back of her glove over her sweaty forehead and went back to mounding the soil around the potato plants.

Justin shook his head, too, but he knew Carly’s determination when there was a task to be completed. He knelt down on the other side of the row from her and began to cup the soil in his hands around the next plant. The kids were walking behind the adults, who dug the holes, dropping a sprout in each one.

“We think we’ve got the water system going with that ram pump. Damn thing’s a Rube Goldberg device, but we’ve got it going.” He explained how a windmill drew up the water from the well and a series of chutes and pipes created enough descent for the falling water to power the ram pump that then drove it through the irrigation pipes. It should be enough to water the crops if the rain was poor, and supply the town’s water needs, at least until their population grew. Carly let Justin’s voice flow over her without really absorbing the words as he talked about connecting pipes and angles of descent.

They reached the end of the row and Carly stood, arching to stretch her aching back. They were trying to time this planting in such a way that there would be a constant harvest of potatoes—once they started getting enough to matter, that is.

Justin was still talking. “—taking Pearl scouting with me.”

“What?” Carly blinked.

Justin frowned. “You’re overheated. Come over here and sit with me for a minute.” He led her over to the pool of shade beneath a willow tree and brought her a Mason jar wrapped with wet cloth to keep the contents cool. They had fashioned something like a sports drink with a little honey and salt, with a little raspberry juice for flavoring. It tasted terrible, but it would replace some of the electrolytes she lost.

Justin took off her big floppy hat and fanned her face with it. “I was saying I’m heading to Brewster tomorrow morning and I’m thinking of taking Pearl with me.”

It had been just a week since Pearl’s arrival. Did Justin trust her so much already?

Carly looked down the field and saw Pearl on the far side, patting dirt around a potato plant, her face halfway concealed by the large hat she wore. She was turning out to be a valuable member of the community, always willing to lend a hand. A few days ago, she had helped Carly make soap. Together, they had drained the water from the wood ash barrel and mixed it with the melted alligator fat. The stench of the rendering should have made the task distasteful, but Carly and Pearl had been engrossed in conversation, giggling like young girls over stories of old boyfriends and youthful hijinks. Miz Marson had smiled and shook her head as she watched them, and Carly wondered if she had stories of her own she wasn’t volunteering.

Pearl had joined Justin’s classes and also volunteered for a shift on the Watch, but had Justin really been able to get a good enough sense of her capabilities and trustworthiness in that short period of time?

Justin tucked a stray strand of Carly’s hair behind her ear. “What do you think?”

“I’d rather it was me going with you,” Carly muttered.

Justin grinned at her. “Carly, are you
jealous
?”

“No! Absolutely not! Not at all.”

He waited.

“Okay, maybe a little. She’s, like, the girl version of you.”

Justin laughed and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. “You know you have nothing to worry about, right?”

She gave him a brief smile. “Yes, I know that. I do. I just can’t help but wish . . . well, I kind of wish I was more like her. Tough and self-reliant.”

“You
are
tough and self-reliant.”

She puffed out a breath of frustration. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t think I do.” He cupped her cheek in his palm. “Carly, you’re perfect for me, just the way you are. We complement each other’s strengths and make up for each other’s weaknesses. A true partnership on every level. It’s enough to almost make me believe in that fate stuff you’re always talking about.”

Carly took off the cloth around the jar and used it to wipe her hot face and neck. They had agreed Carly would stay in the town while Justin was gone, because of Dagny. He said it was because Carly was still breastfeeding, but the truth of the matter was Justin had argued that Carly was the more ‘valuable’ parent. If Carly went with him, Dagny might lose both.

Carly didn’t like it, but she had agreed for Justin’s peace of mind. The compromise was he had to take someone with him, someone who would watch his back.

“Do you have to go now? Can’t you . . . wait a while?”

Justin drew back to look down into Carly’s eyes. “Do you not trust her?”

“It’s not that. It’s . . . just . . .”

He nodded. “If our positions were reversed, I’d be saying the same thing. She’s untested.”

Carly was relieved he’d put it into words. “Exactly. I know I can trust Stan to take care of you.”