“They couldn’t care for her,” she said slowly. “Surviving out here is hard, and they weren’t ready for the weather. They thought they’d have shelter sooner.”
“Why didn’t they? It seems like there’s plenty of abandoned houses around.”
“Their original plan was to stay in my house, near a source of water. When they saw I was there, they knew they couldn’t take it. They were worn down and weak. Neva didn’t want to leave the stream, so they stayed there.”
“Living where?”
“Eli did a decent job of building them a little shelter. Stebbs—that’s the man back at my house—he talked me into coming over and visiting them. Eli and Neva decided that Lucy would be better off with me.”
“They should have never tried it,” Vera said, placing her hand against the passenger window and splaying her fingers. “I could’ve aborted her pregnancy and they would’ve stayed in the city.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Neva wouldn’t do it. She said she’d rather have her baby out here than stay in the city and give it up.”
“She lost it,” Lynn said. “It was a boy.”
“Carried to term?”
“Uh . . .”
“Was she really big when she had the baby? Was the baby fully formed?”
Lynn remembered the fading warmth in the little bundle that Stebbs had handed her, and Eli unwrapping it to see whether he’d had a niece or a nephew.
“I think it was, yeah.”
Lynn thought about Neva’s hunched form at the tiny grave, faithfully visiting every day no matter how cold it was. The same determination had been in her face as she traded her life for her daughter’s, and Lynn felt her gut twist at the thought that Neva had known what she was about to do even as she walked away.
They drove through a crossroads, Lynn blithely ignoring the stop sign at the corner. “There’s a town up here, to the south, but it’s abandoned. Was there anything like that where you were?” She didn’t know if prompting Vera would help or hurt, but blind driving would get them nowhere. Lucy’s chances dipped with the sun and every turn of the tires.
“I don’t remember any towns. I was in the bed of the truck, most of the time, and on my back, but I had a little peripheral vision and I wasn’t looking anywhere else.”
Lynn’s stomach rolled at the implications. “If you didn’t see much, it probably was west. There’s not a lot in this direction.”
They drove a while in silence. Lynn’s hands were tight on the steering wheel, her knuckles white. “Any of this looking familiar? Are we too far out?”
Vera stared out her window, shaking her head. “Nothing looks right, but I think we were farther out than this. I do remember seeing a church spire, and thinking it was odd to see a church that big out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Was it white?”
“Yes, but the bell had fallen out and crashed down the front of the tower.”
Hope blossomed in her chest like a crocus pushing through the winter’s ice, and Lynn swung to the right. “I know that place, it’s the old Methodist church. When I was really little, Mother used to take me hunting with her, ’cause she was afraid I’d wander outside alone if she left me behind. She’d hunt there for wild turkeys. The bell was still hanging then.”
“Your mother?”
“Gone now,” Lynn answered. “This past fall.”
“I’m sorry.”
Lynn drove fast in the fading light, scanning the horizon for the spire of the church. She hadn’t been this far from home since Mother had brought her out as a child, and though her sense of direction was keen, she didn’t trust her distant memories in the dark.
“I need to tell you something,” Lynn said. “About Neva.”
“I can’t think about her right now,” Vera said. “I can’t stop what they’re doing to her. It’s best to focus on Lucy and something I can help.”
“She’s dead.”
“What?” For the first time, Vera looked away from the window, her strong composure breaking with the single syllable.
“She shot herself in the field, not long after they took her.”
Vera closed her eyes and rested her head against the cold glass. “Neva, my poor girl. I’m so sorry, baby.”
Tears pricked at Lynn’s eyes and she stared ahead, uncomfortable in the small truck cab with Vera’s mourning. The church spire stood black against the setting sun, the red rays of evening pouring through the hole that the falling bell had torn.
“Here’s the church,” she said, driving past slowly. “Do you know where you are now?”
Vera opened her eyes and wiped away a few stray tears. She cleared her throat. “I wasn’t far from here, there was a little cemetery around the corner. I had just passed it when I heard their truck coming. I was smart enough to hide my pack behind a tombstone, but stupid enough to not hide myself. I was hoping I’d be able to get a ride.”
“It’s not like the city out here,” Lynn said. “You’re better off to distrust everyone at first and make them earn it.”
“Then it’s exactly like the city.”