“The least I can do is provide some entertainment for my rescue party.”
Lynn bit down on her retort and went out in the waning light to cut the switch with her pocketknife. When she came back in, Lucy had three piles of blankets on the floor beside the bed and Stebbs was sitting up. She handed him the forked switch.
“All right now, close your eyes,” Lucy said. “No cheating.”
Stebbs obeyed and Lucy slid the cup of water under the middle blanket. “Ready,” she said, and scurried over beside Lynn to watch.
Stebbs pulled himself to the edge of the bed, held the forked ends of the switch loosely in his hands with his palms up, and swept the other end over the blankets slowly, starting on the right. He’d barely passed over the middle blanket when the stick turned in his hands, jabbing downward at the cup of water hidden underneath.
“Am I right?” Stebbs asked Lucy, even though Lynn could tell from his eyes that he knew he was.
Lucy bolted up from the ground. “That is sooo cool,” she shouted, then pulled the cup of water out from under the blanket to look at it suspiciously. “Can I still drink it?”
“Sure,” Stebbs laughed.
“How do you do that, really? Is it magic?”
“No, nothing like that,” he said. “It’s just something I’m able to do. Sometimes it’s genetic—my grandfather could do it. Some people can just feel water.”
“Lucy, pick up this mess,” Lynn said, pointing to the blankets. She took the switch from Stebbs, forced him to lie back down on the bed and re-propped his foot. “That was stupid,” she said to him. “She was excited enough already, now she’s going to chatter about it forever.”
“Who’s she going to talk to? You? Eli? Her mother? Them knowing doesn’t bother me.”
“But the others? What if they’re watching? What if they overhear her saying something to one of us? What if she slips in front of a stranger one day?”
“I just wanted to make her happy. The kid’s got little enough to smile about.”
“It’s not worth it,” Lynn shot back. “You know what would happen to you if the wrong people found out you can douse? You’d—”
“Hey, guys, look!” Lucy’s cry of joy reverberated inside the small shelter. They turned to see her holding the dousing stick expertly in her upturned palms, the long end pointing emphatically at a bundle of blankets.
Lynn jumped to her feet and yanked the covering away. The little cup of water that had been underneath spilled across the floor. Her gaze met Stebbs’.
“Shit,” he said.
“So I’m a water witch too?” Lucy asked as they crossed the field by the light of the newly risen moon.
“Shut up about that!” Lynn turned in her tracks and thrust a finger in Lucy’s face. “Remember that man on the road, and those men that took his shoes?”
Lucy’s lip quivered as she looked into Lynn’s angry face. “The bad men?”
“Yeah, the bad men. What he had that was worth anything to them, they took. His wood, his food, his gun—right down to his socks—they took everything that meant anything. What you’ve got isn’t something they can just pull out of your hands, and it’s worth more than shoes. You can find water, Lucy. If anyone knew, they’d take—”
“They’d take me,” the little girl said. “Because it’s like I got the water inside me, and they can’t just take it out.”
“Yeah,” Lynn said softly, shoving down the hard spike of fear that had risen in her chest. “They’d take you. Or Stebbs. Either one of you would be worth more than gold, but I don’t think the life you’d be living would be worth shit.” Lynn glanced around the field and readjusted the rifle on her back. “C’mon,” she said tersely, jerking the little girl by the arm. “We’ve been gone too long already. And stop talking.”
Lucy was silent the rest of the way home, and Lynn regretted speaking so harshly to her. Fear had fueled her tone, but there was no way to explain to Lucy the wave of panic that swept over her even in daylight when seconds passed between Lynn calling out and Lucy answering. In the dark field, it felt to Lynn like all predators would see Lucy not only as the easiest target, but Lynn’s weakness as well. She hoped Lucy could feel the affection coursing through her fingers, even though the grip on her tiny wrist was iron.
Lucy gathered courage to speak again once they were both tucked into the warm safety of their own cots. “How bad’s his ankle?”
“What’s that?”
“Stebbs’ foot? He going to be okay?”
“Yeah,” Lynn answered. “He’ll be fine. It was just a bad sprain. He couldn’t stand to pull himself up out of the bunker because his other foot is lame.”
“He’ll be okay though? Like to come over and see us again sometime?”
Lynn found herself smiling in the dark; she wasn’t the only one who found Stebbs’ company comforting. “I doubt we can keep him away.”