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

“I talked to Nora this morning,” Lucy said. “She knows all about polio. She said a carrier—like Carter—they don’t have it forever. It passes out of their body.”


Lynn’s eyes slid shut, her body suddenly so still the only movement was the pulse in her throat. “Christ,” she said after a while. “Oh, Christ.”

“Carter is out in the wild by himself. I owe it to him to go back and let him know. I can’t—” Lucy’s voice cracked as she thought of the few hours after she’d left Lynn behind on the road, her footfalls no longer echoed by someone else’s. “I can’t imagine anything worse.”

Lynn was silent in the chair, the last red rays of sun hitting her hard and showing lines Lucy had never noticed before, as if she’d aged in the last few minutes. “Lynn?”

“I can set your mind at ease about that,” Lynn said. “Carter’s not wandering alone by himself. I killed him.”

“You . . .” Lucy stared at Lynn blankly, all reason having left her. “You’re kidding.”

Lynn shook her head slowly, and opened her eyes to fix them on Lucy’s.

The hope that had gathered in Lucy all day was sucked out of her so forcefully it felt as if her lungs collapsed, leaving the only word she could think of weak and flat as it escaped her. “Why?”

“He was following us for a ways, and back at Lake Wellesley I went out and found him. He was ready to go, Lucy.”

A white heat leapt from Lucy’s gut, igniting her muscles and driving her up off the bed before she knew what she intended to do. Her hand cracked against Lynn’s cheek, and the older woman’s head bounced off the side of the chair with the force of Lucy’s blow.

“No!” she screamed at Lynn, tears erupting from her eyes. “You shut up! Don’t you say it, don’t you tell me it was a mercy!” Lucy beat at Lynn with her bare hands, bruising the soft skin of her palms with every strike. Lynn curled into a ball, letting Lucy’s anger break against her body. But Lucy’s rage was not receding, and soon Lynn’s nose was bloodied while Lucy still screamed.

“Carter wanted to live, he wanted babies and home, he wanted life. He was like me. And you took it from him because all you know is death!” She struck Lynn over and over, but the outpouring of words and tears did nothing to touch the deep pool of grief that had been opened inside of her.

She didn’t stop until Nora pulled her off Lynn, her hands and forearms slick with the blood of the woman who had devoted her life to protecting her. “I hate you,” she screamed, her hysterical voice breaking on every word. “I hate you and your fucking gun!”

The last thing she saw as Nora dragged her from the room was Lynn curled into a bloody ball on the floor, eyes as blank as they had been when Lucy had left her behind in the desert.

Nora wiped Lynn’s blood from Lucy’s hands while tears and truth flowed from Lucy in an unbridled wave. She talked about Carter and how his smile was one of her first memories, how years of building tree houses together in the woods had evolved into thoughts of something more permanent for both of them. How broken she had been when Maddy died, the pain of leaving home knowing Carter was damned, and that she would never see her grandmother or Stebbs again. She talked about Joss left to die on the road and of the mother who had put a gun to her temple. She told Nora that Lynn was not her mother, and now she was glad of it.

Nora drew a warm washcloth across Lucy’s face, and the last trails of pink from Lynn’s blood were blotted away. “You’ve exhausted yourself,” Nora said, pressing gently on the swollen skin around Lucy’s eyes.

Lucy held her hands to her chest to feel the emptiness there, the place where so much love had been.

Nora leaned Lucy back on her own bed and tucked a blanket around her shoulders. “It sounds like Lynn’s had a hard life.”

Lucy nodded, unable to deny it even in the empty aftershock of her wrath. “She’s had to do horrible things to survive.”

“I understand,” Nora said softly as she wrung the washcloth out over a pan. “But when people have to do things like that, it changes them. I can’t say what kind of person she would’ve been in a different situation, but I can say what she is now. And it’s not the kind of person I think you want to be.”

Years of emotion tangled up with Lynn revolted in Lucy, and she had the sudden urge to throw the blood-tinged water in Nora’s face. But then the thought of Carter’s life evaporating from his spilled blood made her shake her head. “No,” she agreed. “I don’t think I ever could be.”

“We don’t live like that here, not anymore,” Nora said. “We are strong and healthy, with good food and—now you’re here—plenty of water in our future.”

“And soft pillows,” Lucy mumbled, as what remained of her energy slipped away.

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