The Land of the Shadow (2 page)

Carly went into the pantry and moved aside the hidden panel on the floor. She reached into the cavity and pulled out a metal can, eying it speculatively. Justin had found a stash of it in an abandoned restaurant. It was probably the last coffee in this part of the country. She gnawed her lip for a moment and then went back out into the kitchen. It didn’t have the easy pull-tab seal like coffee from the grocery store, so she went searching through the drawers for the can opener. She hadn’t used it in a long while because canned food was so uncommon these days.

The restaurant had yielded little else in the way of food, though they now had an industrial-sized vat of ketchup. When she had questioned Justin’s reason for taking it, he had simply shrugged and said, “It’s calories.” She had hoped he wasn’t envisioning a future where that was all they’d have to eat.

There it is!
The opener was hiding in the back of the drawer under an oven mitt. She attached it to the lid of the can but jumped when Justin’s voice sounded behind her.

“Carly, what are you doing?”

She glanced over her shoulder. He wore a ratty old T-shirt and sweats cut off into shorts. His dark-brown hair stood in wild spikes all over his head, and he hadn’t shaved yet, but when he smiled at her, it almost made her heart stop.

“Making you that cup of coffee,” she said and suddenly felt a little awkward about it, despite her good intentions.

“No, honey, but thank you.” He took the can from her hands and set it down on the counter. “We agreed this was too valuable to use.”

“I know, but—”

He lifted her chin with his fingers until she was looking up into his dark eyes, a brown so dark they looked black in most lights. “You remember how upset people were when we didn’t share it?”

Carly nodded.

“We made the decision to save it for trade. Not so we could take it for ourselves. That’s not fair, nor is it honorable.”

She felt embarrassed now, but she had wanted to do something for him, something nice, a little indulgence in a life that had very few of them. “Leadership should have
some
privileges, Justin. You work so hard for this community. We wouldn’t even have this can if it wasn’t for your scouting.”

He smiled. “I understand your motivations, but leadership is also responsibility, you know? We should be trusted to keep our word.”

“You’re right.” Carly sighed and took the can back to its hiding place. Chicory it was, then.

She grimaced at the jar as she carried it back to the stove. Mindy had been wrong when she said it was a good substitute for coffee. Still, so many things had changed in the two years since the Crisis that they all tried to retain these small rituals of life, and Carly supposed chicory was better than nothing.

She had one ear trained on the upstairs, listening for sounds from either Dagny or Kaden, but heard nothing.

“Did Dagny go back to sleep?”

“She was out before I even finished changing her.” Justin gave that soft, goofy smile his daughter inspired, and it always made Carly smile, too, even on the darkest of days.

They drank a cup of chicory together at the table, Carly stealing a few minutes to read and Justin going over some plans that had been drawn up for irrigating a new field. She loved these quiet times in the mornings, before the world broke in with its problems and questions and tugged them off in different directions for the day.

As the sun’s first rays scorched the horizon, promising another sweltering day, Carly checked breakfast and then got ready for the morning’s chores. She shoved her feet into her boots, picked up her basket, and headed outside, reciting her morning prayer:
Please, please let there be eggs.

The chicken coop was beside the barn. It was portable, so they moved it about once a week to give the chickens fresh grass to peck at in their little fenced-in yard. It was too dangerous to let them roam free during the day.

The chickens swarmed around her legs when she entered, eager for their breakfast. She filled the feeder and then ducked inside the attached hut while they were distracted.

Inside, there were a few feet of floor space, covered with sawdust, and a row of ten boxes lined with straw. Carly crouched and peeked into each one and gave a sigh to find two eggs in one of them. She transferred the eggs to the basket with care. Six hens and only two eggs to show for it.

The last box in the row was occupied by what Old Miz Marson called a “broody” hen. The hen had a clutch of four eggs, and the quick candling Miz Marson had performed when the hen left the nest to eat one morning indicated the eggs might be fertile. They hoped so. Each attempt at hatching chicks had met with failure. All they could do was pray this time it would work. Carly leaned over to check on her and frowned. The box was empty and the clutch of eggs lay bare.

Carly turned back to the chickens around the feeder. She counted five hens and the rooster. She peered around the confines of the coop, but there weren’t places for the missing hen to hide. Where could she be? Carly laid a hand atop the eggs. They were cool to the touch. She closed her eyes.

Latching the door of the coop behind her, Carly headed back to the house, pausing at the threshold. “Justin?”

He was at the stove, stirring the oatmeal. “Yeah?”

“The broody hen is missing.”

He frowned. “What do you mean, missing?”

Carly gave an impatient huff. “
Missing
, missing. As in no longer present.”

“Are you sure?” Justin moved the pot off the burner and donned a pair of ancient sneakers.

“Pretty sure. There aren’t any places in there for her to hide.” She swallowed. “And the eggs were cold.”

“Dammit.” Justin raked a hand through his hair. “No feathers, no blood?”

“Not that I noticed.”

From under the table, Sam emerged, shaking his gray coat as if shedding the remnants of sleep. He yawned, his huge, lupine teeth gleaming with inherent menace, but wagged his tail and licked Carly’s hand as he followed them outside. He sniffed at the ground with interest, and Carly wished he could tell them what he detected.

Justin looked around while she waited outside the coop. His jaw had a grim set as he emerged.

“Gone?” she asked.

“Gone.” Justin glanced around the yard, but there was no way for the chicken to have escaped the coop, even if she had decided to abandon her nest.

Carly’s throat felt tight. Not so much as the loss of the bird, but for what the hen represented. She’d hoped by now to have a thriving little flock breeding enough chicks to spread out among the community and be raised for both eggs and meat. Her continual failure with hatching was bad enough, but to have one of the six precious hens vanish was a disaster.

Justin put his arm around her and Carly laid her head against his chest. “A raccoon?”

“No, there weren’t any signs of a predator. And a raccoon or possum wouldn’t have stopped at just one bird.”

Carly’s brow furrowed. “Are you thinking I left the coop unlatched?”

“No.”

She drew back to look up at him. “You think—”

“It seems likely.”

Carly shook her head. “I can’t believe someone would . . .” She let her voice trail off. They were all tired of a vegetarian diet, and she knew people were frustrated that Carly’s chickens hadn’t multiplied like she’d promised they would, but she couldn’t believe someone would resort to thievery.

Justin didn’t answer. He led her back to the house, and she knew he was already going over likely suspects in his mind and planning a strategy to uncover the thief.

“What about the eggs she was hatching? Can they be saved?”

She shook her head. “They’re stone-cold. They’re dead.”

He swore under his breath and gathered them up from the nest, tucking them into a pouch he created by holding the hem of his T-shirt.

“Maybe we could give them to Sam,” Carly said. Sam, hearing his name, wagged his tail.

“It’s not a good idea for him to get a taste for eggs.”

She supposed he was right, but it was still difficult to watch as Justin broke each egg into the compost bin. The waste of it . . .

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

Justin slanted her a glance, his black eyes glinting in the morning sunlight. “Expulsion.”

Carly flinched.

Justin stopped and put his hands on her shoulders. “What do you think?”

The decision had to be mutual. That was what they had agreed to when they restarted this community.

She nodded. As harsh as it seemed, she couldn’t argue with his judgment. The thief had stolen not from just Carly and Justin, but from the whole community. He or she had reduced the chances they had for growing their flock to the point where it could sustain all twenty-seven people. Every loss like this was critical when a cold snap or insect infestation could destroy their food supply. None of them were hungry, but neither did they have a comfortable margin yet.

“It’s not the bird so much as what it represents. They’re willing to put our long-term survival in jeopardy for short-term gratification.”

“I know. I was thinking the same thing.” Carly pulled off her boots at the kitchen door, and they headed inside.

They found Kaden at the kitchen table, reading a text book. He had Dagny seated in her high chair, a bib tied around her neck. She banged her plastic fork on the tray with a grin, chanting, “Yum, yum.”

“Morning,” Kaden said. “Oatmeal’s ready.”

“Did she wake you?” Carly spooned out a portion for herself, taking great effort to hide her grimace. She’d never cared for oatmeal, and she liked it even less now that it was something they had every day.

“Nah, I was up. What’s wrong?”

The kid was too observant. Justin told him about the missing hen as he portioned out the oatmeal.

Carly got out a skillet and cracked the two eggs into it. “You want one of these?” she asked Kaden. “Dagny will only eat one.”

“No, you eat it,” Kaden said. “Really. I don’t want it, and you’re . . . you know . . . uh . . .”

“Breastfeeding?” Carly said, amused as the tips of Kaden’s ears turned pink.

“Yeah, that.”

Justin plunked a plate down in front of the boy and took a seat on the opposite side of the table. “We can get an early start to Brownsville if you get the stalls mucked out quick.”

Carly bit her lip and didn’t say anything. She always worried about Justin on these scouting missions, but lately he’d been taking Kaden along. Kaden was tall for his age and strong, but he was still only fifteen. Now she worried about both of them.

“We can be home early enough that you won’t have to cancel class!” Kaden replied.

“Maybe,” Justin said. “We’ll see.”

Kaden wolfed down the rest of his oatmeal. “I’ll go now.” He jumped out of his place and darted for the door.

“Kaden,” Justin said.

Kaden whirled around and ran back to the table, where he scooped up his empty plate and water glass. He pecked a kiss on Carly’s cheek. “Thanks for breakfast,” he said and dropped his plate with a clatter into the sink. The screen door banged behind him.

Carly carried two plates of eggs over to the table, her own and Dagny’s plate, which featured colorful alphabet letters dancing along the rim. Carly cut up the egg into little pieces and blew on it to cool before she put the plate in front of Dagny.

“He’ll be okay,” Justin said as he filled the baby’s sippy cup with water and plunked it down next to her plate. “Don’t worry. You know I’ll take care of him.”

“Yeah, but who will take care of you?” Carly took a bite of her own and patted her lips with a cloth napkin. She watched as Dagny used her fork to scoop up a bite of egg, which fell off halfway to her mouth. Her little face creased with determination as she tried again.

“You might be surprised.” Justin scooped up the last bite of his oatmeal. “Kid is cool as a cucumber and thinks fast.”

“I’d still rather you took Stan.” Among them now were better shots, tougher fighters, but she trusted no one else in the town like she trusted Stan. It was a silent, mutual pact that had grown during their journey across the US.

“Stan’s busy with the spring planting,” Justin said. “We need him here.”

“Hmm.” Carly used her own fork to spear a bite of egg for Dagny, who ate it with relish, grinning as she chewed.

Justin took his plate to the sink and rinsed it before returning to lean over her chair, his arms around her shoulders. “I’ll be careful honey, I promise.” His breath was warm on her ear, and she shivered lightly. She turned her head up to him, and he brushed a gentle, sweet kiss over her lips and then kissed Dagny on top of the head.

“Da-da!” Dagny gave him a smile and thrust up her arms to be picked up.

He chuckled, wiping a stray crumb of egg from her chin into her mouth. “You haven’t finished your breakfast,” he told her, and pointed to the tray.

Dagny jabbed at the egg and showed him the bite she’d picked up. It fell off, but never hit the floor because Sam was there to catch it. With Sam around, Carly never needed to worry about the floor getting dirty, but it was hard to tell sometimes how much food was getting into the baby’s stomach versus that of the wolf.