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“Yes.” I don’t look at the green of the trees. I don’t think of the rush of the river. “Almost seventeen. How old are you?” She looks older than me, but it’s hard to tell by how much. She has the sun-weathered skin of those who spend all day outdoors, her body stripped of everything but essential muscle.
She shrugs. “Around seventeen or eighteen. We don’t really pay much attention to that stuff.”
Caleb snorts out a laugh, but there’s no amusement in it. “No birthday cake and candles around here.”
“Yeah, well, my family wasn’t big on cake and candles either,” I tell him.
It takes us several hours to reach the camp. We could have covered the distance faster, but Ash made us stop every half hour or so to give me more water or a piece of food. I could tell the delays made Caleb impatient, but he only blew out long-suffering sighs, back against an adjacent tree, and waited for Ash and me to get up and moving again.
I can hear the camp before we actually see it. The bustle of humanity, the sounds of voices carried on the warm air, sound all wrong in the world of quiet I’ve grown used to. I’ve been desperate for other human voices, but now that I’ve found Ash and Caleb and I’m no longer alone, the sounds of a larger community bring a hot flush of fear. My heart slams against my ribs, and I don’t realize I’ve slowed to almost a stop until Ash puts a hand on my back, urging me forward. “It’s okay,” she says. “You’ll be safe here. I promise.” I want to believe her, but my safety isn’t something she can guarantee, no matter how good her intentions. What if Mark has already returned, ready to tell everyone his own self-serving version of what happened between us? Who would Ash and Caleb believe?
We top a small rise and the camp is laid out below us, spread along the banks of the river. There are dozens of mismatched tents, homemade from a variety of materials. I can see a large garden and a cluster of clotheslines strung between the trees on the edge of the camp. People mill around, dodging a few small children who race among the tents. It seems tranquil and unthreatening, which only makes me more uneasy, as if it’s all an illusion meant to hide the ugly core underneath.
“Why do you stay here, instead of in a town?” I ask, still not ready to move down the hill and into the camp.
“Some people do stay in town, but most of us prefer it outdoors. I like the freedom. I’m not a big fan of enclosed spaces,” Ash says.
“It’s safer,” Caleb says bluntly, and Ash gives him a warning look. “Not everyone out here is as nice as we are.” I glance at him, but there’s no hint of irony on his face. “We prefer to be in a large group, able to defend one another. And able to scatter if it comes to that.”
“Stop scaring her,” Ash says.
“I’m not scared,” I tell her. “I didn’t think it would be all sunshine and roses out here.”
Caleb glances at me, and for the first time I see something other than suspicion in his face. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get down there and get you set up.”
We
start down the small hill, but Ash hangs back a little with me. “You can stay with me, in my tent,” she says. “If you want.”
“We can find her a tent,” Caleb says without turning around. The man has ears like a bat.
“I know that,” Ash says, and looks at me. “But if you don’t want to be alone, I don’t mind the company.”
“Sure,” I say. “I’d like that.” It would be nice to have at least one friendly face close by in this mass of unfamiliar humanity.
“Great,” Caleb mutters, “pretty soon you’ll be spending all day braiding each other’s hair and whispering about boys.”
Ash doesn’t dignify that comment with a response, so I don’t either. Apparently I’m getting used to Caleb and his sharp tongue. Already I sense his bark is worse than his bite. At least when it comes to Ash.
As we make our way into camp, people stop to clap Caleb on the back, pull Ash in for quick one-armed hugs. The eyes on me are curious, but not hostile, and everyone seems to accept that if I’m with Ash and Caleb, I’m welcome among them. There are no formal introductions, but I hear Ash murmur my name from time to time as she greets people, and I nod and give small smiles in return. All the attention is overwhelming, though, and I’m grateful when Ash closes the flap of her tent behind us, shutting out the sights, if not the sounds, of the camp.
Ash is already hard at work, shifting bedding and making room for me on the left side of her tent. “Caleb has an extra cot,” she tells me over her shoulder. “I’ll have him bring it over here, and I have plenty of bedding.” She turns and surveys me. “I’ll ask around and find you some clothes. Most of mine aren’t going to fit. You’re a lot taller and…you know…” She makes an hourglass motion with her hands. It’s so reminiscent of Callie that tears gather on my lashes before I can stop them. I take a deep breath and tilt my head up until they’re gone. I don’t understand how I can hate Callie and love her all in one breath.
“You okay?” Ash asks, and I force a smile when I meet her eyes.
“Fine,” I say, and she doesn’t push, which I’m thankful for. I don’t know what I’d tell her if she did.
She leaves me alone for a little while, presumably to go round up some clothes, and I take the moment of solitude gratefully. I wander slowly around the interior of the tent, getting used to the space. It’s more like a decent-sized room than a tent. There’s a cot on the right side, piled high with pillows and blankets, a crate next to it with a lantern and a few books. On the back wall is a small trunk, probably where Ash stores her clothes. The ground is covered with tacked-down oilcloth, and window flaps on both sides let in a hint of a breeze. There’s little decoration other than a tattered map of the old United States hanging on the far wall,and I move closer, run my fingers carefully over the fragile paper. There are small dark marks in certain spots on the map, but there’s no clue as to what they mean.
“You found our map,” Ash says from behind me, and I whirl around. “Sorry,” she says, “didn’t meant to startle you.”
“That’s okay.” I glance back at the map. “What’s it for?”
“It was my dad’s,” Ash says. “He liked to keep track of where people came from, when they passed through.” She moves closer, points at some of the marks near what was once Virginia. “We’ve had a few groups from this part of the country. They said there’s a more centralized government there, but it’s harsh. Not much freedom. They wanted out.” Her finger trails across the map, all the way to California. “A couple of years ago we had some people all the way from the West Coast. They said there’s a fairly big settlement there, near where a city called San Diego used to be. A good place, according to them. They lived with us for the winter before setting out again. They were on a trek to walk from ocean to ocean.” She smiles as she speaks, but my heart curls into a painful ball at her words.
“What?” Ash asks, brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I clear my throat. “It’s nothing. I just knew someone, back in Westfall, who always wanted to see the ocean.” I look back at the map, desperate for something else to concentrate on. “Have you ever thought about leaving here? Exploring what else is out there?”
