In a Handful of Dust (Not a Drop to Drink #2)

“I’m sorry.”


Lucy didn’t know what to say, so she lay still in the darkness.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she answered. “Not well, but not nearly as bad.”

“That’s to be expected. You lost a lot of water.”

“Water, always water,” Lucy repeated. The wave of nausea returned as she remembered the river of rain closing over her head and sweeping her away.

Nora’s hands brought her back to reality as she checked Lucy’s pulse and felt for a fever. “The men who brought you in said you can witch it.”

“I can,” Lucy said, and felt the hand on her forehead tense at the answer.

“That’s good, little one, good for everyone.”

She’d begun to slide back into sleep before Nora’s words trailed off, but she jerked herself awake. “Why’d you call me that?”

Nora’s hands were gone, her voice suddenly distant in the dark. “Call you what?”

“Little one.”

There was a pause, and Lucy strained her eyes against the black to see if Nora was still there. “I had a child that was built small, like you. Now get some sleep.”

Footsteps retreated, and Lucy heard a door shut behind them. Moments later Lynn’s voice cut through the black.

“You told them?”

The words hung between their beds like a weight, and Lucy fought hard to sound confident when she spoke. “There wasn’t any choice. I’m sorry.”

“Who all knows?”

“I don’t know. The men who found me, Nora apparently.”

“So let’s assume everyone,” Lynn said, and the quiet descended again. “How many people are here?”

“I don’t know, Lynn,” Lucy said. “I’ve been awake about five more hours than you.”

“And what’d you learn in those five hours?”

“That we’re lucky we’re not dead, you especially. Nora and the bigger lady have some kind of medical training. We’re in a real hospital, but apparently they don’t have electricity.”

Lynn was silent again, but Lucy could feel her thinking in the dark, and her own mind ran over the thousand things she should’ve noticed while Lynn lay comatose.

“Those men that found you . . . did they hurt you in any way?”

“I’m fine, Lynn,” Lucy said.

“You understand what I’m ask—”

“I’m. Fine. You don’t need to assume that—”

“Everyone we meet is bad?”

“Yeah,” Lucy answered. “There are good people in the world, like Grandma. Like Stebbs and Fletcher.”

“There are,” Lynn said carefully, “but we’ll start with the assumption most people aren’t, and let them earn their way up.”

Nora’s warm touch and concerned tone flickered through Lucy’s mind. “Nora seems all right,” she said tentatively.

Lynn grunted in reply.

“What do we do?” Lucy asked, even though her foot ached horribly and sleep was toying with her brain again.

“I don’t know that there’s a lot of we involved. I’m draining myself just talking.”

“You’ve never exactly been chatty,” Lucy said. “So I think you’ll be fine.”

Lucy heard something sailing toward her through the dark, and a pillow hit her in the face.

“Nice shot.”

“I have my gifts,” Lynn said, and Lucy would’ve mistaken it for a joke if not for what came next. “Though they don’t seem wanted here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Where’s my gun?”

“It’s—” Lucy’s tongue was quick to supply an instant answer to the all-important question, but she couldn’t. “I don’t know.”

“The men who picked us up, did they take it?”

Lucy racked her brain, forcing the fevered car ride from the desert into high detail, but all she saw was Lynn’s limp body, her head lolling endlessly. “I don’t remember.”

“Nobody in this world leaves a high-powered rifle lying beside the road,” Lynn said. “They took it.”

A chill crept beneath Lucy’s skin that had nothing to do with the IV. She curled into herself under the thin sheet and tucked the edges under the sharp contours of her body.

“So what happens next?”

“We’re in your territory now, little one, and me without my gun. You tell me.”

Lucy lay in the dark, her mind at odds with her heart once again. Lynn’s innate distrust of people might be leading her into paranoia. These people had saved their lives, filled their bodies with water again. She was in a bed for the first time in months, her head resting on a pillow.

“I’ll keep my eyes open,” she finally said. “People like to talk about themselves, especially if they’ve accomplished something. And they have, Lynn. We’re in a city in the middle of a desert, and they’re giving out water to strangers.”

“Don’t be afraid to show them how smart you are,” Lynn said, her voice fading further into weakness. “You’ve got a sharp mind, that’s of value anywhere. Watch and learn.”

“And then?”

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