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55
ALICE CHUNG FETCHED BUCKETS OF water from the stove three times to keep the bath hot. Each time she sank back into the tub, soaked a washcloth, and lay back with it over her eyes.
Their house was just inside the wall, and workers had built a gigantic scaffolding of pipes as a platform for repairing it. She could hear men and women climbing and clanging. There was a huge boom crane up there and she had no idea how they’d managed to get it to the big flat wooden deck. Wouldn’t they need a crane to lift it? Alice smiled, thinking that Gutsy would probably know how it was done. Gutsy knew stuff like that. She was so nuts-and-bolts. Always had been.
Alice smiled, re-wet the rag, and sighed.
Thinking of Gutsy Gomez made her smile, but even as she did so, there was an odd feeling to it. As if the smile did not quite fit. Flirting with Gutsy the other day was fun. A lot of fun, really. She’d had her eye on Gutsy for a long time, and had hoped the girl would nerve up and ask her out. But, tough as Gutsy was, she never seemed to find the guts to try.
Then there was that kiss. The first one. Alice knew that if she hadn’t made the first move, then the sun would burn to a cold cinder before Gutsy ever did.
There was a heavy caroooom as the boom crane placed another crushed car onto the wall. It made the whole house shake and sent ripples across the surface of her bathwater. Alice understood why they had to work all day and night, but it annoyed her too. Mom was hurt and resting, and this wasn’t going to exactly rock her to sleep.
For a moment Alice sat up and looked at the closed bathroom door, chewing her lip, debating whether to dry off and go check or let Mom sleep. She listened for a sound, a word of complaint, a call.
There was nothing.
The house was silent and the only noise was from the work outside.
She settled back into the water, refreshed her rag, found a comfortable angle for her head, and thought more about Gutsy Gomez. Were they an official thing? It was impossible to tell. Not with everything going on. Alice liked Gutsy but was far from being in love. Flirting with her—kissing her—had been almost a whim. Gutsy’s response, though, surprised her. The way Gutsy looked at her, the way she held on to her hand with so much strength. Did that mean Gutsy was farther along the path to something serious?
Maybe.
Alice wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Even if things were normal in town, she was the furthest thing from impulsive. She didn’t want to rush anything. Not romance. Not relationships. Not anything.
Not even her bath.
She smiled and let out a long sigh.
Alice was asleep in minutes, and she slept a long time. She slept for much too long.
56
THE WOMAN’S NAME WAS SERGEANT Angela Holly. She was a lab technician, in her midtwenties, with brown skin and very dark brown eyes that were jumpy and filled with terror. She and Gutsy stood a few feet apart again, but now the shotgun hung loose in Holly’s left hand as she reread the note.
“I thought the ravagers killed everyone,” she said. “Or the wild men. Both, I guess.”
“It was close,” admitted Gutsy. “Glad to meet someone alive down here.”
“Things fell apart, and I’ve mostly been hiding.”
“Alone?”
Holly hesitated, and her eyes shifted away. “Not at first. There were ten of us. But the others mostly got sick. One by one. We had to… we had to…” She couldn’t finish, and Gutsy didn’t need her to.
“You said the others ‘mostly’ got sick,” Gutsy said gently. “What happened to the rest?”
All Holly would give in reply was a fierce shake of her head. “I hid. I kept waiting for someone to come and take charge. No one did, though. Not even the captain.”
“Collins?”
Holly beamed with relief. “You know her? You’re a little young to be a nurse, and you’re definitely not a soldier.”
“My mom worked for Dr. Morton. I was, um, kind of apprenticing with him. I met Captain Collins a couple of times.”
“Is the captain okay?” asked Holly, seeming to accept the apprentice lie.
“She was the last time I saw her,” Gutsy said, sidestepping what would certainly be an ugly truth.
