“Yup. Whether you got a bathroom or not.” Lynn’s eyes shifted to the rooftops, and Lucy saw some movement there.
“Buzzards,” Lucy said. The scavengers of the dead perched along the roofs, lining every skyscraper and townhouse alike.
“Time to go,” Lynn said abruptly.
They walked through dusk to reach Lake Wellesley, the organic smell of the water so strong it pulled them to it like a magnet. Lynn found a spot to camp under a clearing and they spread their blankets, eating without a word.
Exhaustion lay like a weight on Lucy. She had known their trip would wear her down, put blisters on her heels, and maybe even make her be quiet once in a while. But she hadn’t been prepared for the deep ache that filled her limbs, the momentous effort it would take to move at all once she’d sat down for the night.
“You should sleep,” Lynn said, glancing at Lucy in what remained of the light.
Her eyes snapped back open. Lucy hadn’t even known she was dozing. “What about you?”
“Used to it.” Lynn shrugged, without elaborating.
Sleep tugged at her, promising a release from her aches, but Lucy fought it. She needed to get some food to Carter. She was about to excuse herself to the woods when a flash of light on the opposite side of the lake caught her eye, and Lynn’s head shot up.
“I’ll be damned,” Lynn said, watching the fire sprout, its flickering image mirrored on the surface of the water. “Somebody else is here.”
“Few somebodies.” Lucy nudged Lynn and pointed to the east bank, where another bright fleck of orange had shot up, as if encouraged by the appearance of the first. “Whoever it is, they feel comfortable enough to light a fire.”
“Maybe that’s ’cause they belong here. And we don’t. Stay close.”
Her hope sputtered out as quickly as the strangers’ fires had come to life, but Lucy wasn’t terribly worried for Carter’s safety for the night. She’d found a few opportunities throughout the day to leave him food, cutting more deeply into her own rations than was probably smart. And now they were at a huge body of water, one other people were using with impunity. He wouldn’t starve tonight, and he wouldn’t die of thirst either. She would find him tomorrow, she thought, as her thankful body gave in to unconsciousness.
Lucy was surprised when Lynn said they would stay by the lake for another day.
“What’s gotten into you? I thought we were hell-bent on California.”
“We are,” Lynn said. “But I’m curious about those other fires, and what the situation is here.”
“You think we could stay here, don’t you? We might not go all the way west?” Oddly, she didn’t feel the elation she’d expected. The promise of California had seeped its way into her soul without her being aware of it, and the chance to live a different version of the same life—only with a bigger water source—didn’t hold the allure she had expected.
“All I think is, this is a large body of water, there’s plenty of wood, lots of game.”
“So why don’t you look happy?”
Lynn rolled up her blanket and jammed it in her pack before answering. “’Cause if things are so great here, how come nobody’s guarding it?”
“It’s too big to patrol? Or maybe the water is sick?”
“Both are possible. We’re going to walk the perimeter, then go down to the bank. I’m going to take a drink.”
“That’s a crappy plan, Lynn.”
“I’m drinking,” Lynn said, with finality. “Then we’ll sit for the day and see what happens.”
Lucy rolled up her blanket, glancing around for any sign of Carter as she did, but there was nothing. She followed Lynn as they picked a path around the perimeter of the lake, her heart sinking.
She had no way of knowing if he was getting the food she’d left out, or if he was still following her. If he was, not leaving any out could kill him. If he wasn’t, leaving food behind weakened her and made the road to California longer than it already was. Somehow the ocean had begun to pull on her, as real as the tide itself. Lucy wanted this phantom life that her dead uncle had spoken of, this vague promise that was California. But her past pulled on her conscience, as strong as Carter’s body was weak. It only made sense for her to keep her stores for herself, strike west and not look back. But her heart wasn’t worried about making sense when it skipped a beat at the thought of him searching for food she hadn’t set out.
Lynn held back a branch and waited a tick for Lucy to pass, but Lucy wasn’t paying attention, and it snapped back in her face, knocking her to the ground.
Lynn turned at the sound. “What’re you doing?”
“Sorry,” Lucy said, embarrassed to have been caught daydreaming. “Wasn’t paying attention.”
“Might want to start.”