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seven
THE NEXT DAY, WE’REboth quiet, and the air between us is filled with an exhausted, heavy resignation.
I used to feel that way all the time. As I watched the world I knew crumble around me. As I saw so many people I loved die. As I was left with nothing known and secure except a farm and a surly, intimidating guy I’d never even liked.
It’s been a long time since I felt this way, but the numb weight of it returns to me this morning like a dreaded family member. It’s always been there. Lurking. Even as I pretended life didn’t have to contain it. I should have known it would come back to me just when I thought something big might change.
I’m not exactly sure how Jackson is feeling this morning, but he looks heavier too. Like he’s being pushed down the same way I am.
We check a couple more nearby towns first thing, but the only pharmacies we can find have already been looted or exposed to the elements, so there’s nothing worthwhile to take. Then we have to start back for home if we have a chance of returning before nightfall.
So that’s it.
We might have found the tractor parts, but there’s no medication for Molly.
There’s nothing left to do for her.
She’s going to die, and I can’t stop it from happening.
We’re both silent as Jackson backtracks over the same route we took to get here. Every once in a while, I catch him glancing over at me. Checking me out. Seeing how I’m doing. Waiting for me to fall apart.
I’m not going to fall apart.
I’ve lived through too much—survived too long—to let one more loss knock me down. Being strong is the only way to make it in this world. I’ve learned that the hard way. Every one of us has.
The only time we speak all day is to review logistical matters about meal breaks and directions. We make good time. We don’t run into any problems. And it’s midafternoon when we’re pulling off the trail onto the road that leads us home.
By the time Gail waves to us happily and starts cranking open the gate, my chest is hurting so much I can barely breathe through the pressure. I’m twisting my hands in my lap, incapable of holding them still. Jackson must sense it. He pulls to a stop just after he drives onto our property and then he reaches over to cover both my restless hands with one of his.
I take a shuddering breath. I can hold it together. I have to.
“I can go with you to talk to her,” Jackson says soft and thick.
The gentleness of the words is like a slice through my heart. All the coiled tension inside me begins to shudder dangerously.
Then I suddenly think of a way to hold it back. “I want to go check the drop first. One more time. Just in case.”
“What? Right now?”
“Yes. Right now. I want to check to make sure no one found anything.”
“We could have done that on our way in.” He sounds bewildered. Slightly grumpy.
“I know. I didn’t think of it until now. But it’s not that far away. And I don’t want to talk to Molly until I check. You never know. Maybe they found something after all.” I suck in a ragged breath. I know—I know—it’s an act of desperation, but I have to do it anyway.
Jackson must recognize it too. “Okay. Fine. I’ll drive you back there.”
“No need. We’ve already used up too much of our gas, and it would be stupid to use up more. I’ll just walk. You need to put up all our stuff and make sure the tractor parts work. I can get there and back pretty quick.”
“You’re sure as hell not going by yourself.” He gestures up toward Brett, who’s in position at the gate. “Brett can go with you. I’ll get someone to cover his post.”
I don’t waste time arguing. If I don’t get away right now, I’m going to lose it. So I wait until Brett reaches us and Jackson gives him brief instructions. Then I start off, walking away from Jackson and the farm and all that’s left for me to do there.
***
WE WALK FAST AND MAKEit to the drop in good time, but—as anyone could have predicted—there’re no miracle antibiotics waiting for me there. So then I have to walk back. No further delay or procrastination left available to me.
We’re not far from New Haven when several things happen all at once.
