I return to the front. “There’s no one there. Nothing inside really.”
“Go ahead and kill me,” she says, as loud as I’ve heard her speak yet. “I don’t care anymore.” She stares at us pathetically.
“Why would I kill you?” Brenna asks. “It was just, you know, a misunderstanding.”
The woman turns her empty gaze to the sky.
“Everyone kills everything,” she whispers. I look at Brenna, whose face is carved into a deep frown.
“This your house?” Brenna asks.
The woman nods.
“Kids?”
“Not anymore.” She closes her eyes. “We used to be three, and now I’m one,” she says flatly.
We stare at her, unable to respond to her sadness.
“My husband was bitten, infected. He killed our girl. Ate her. Now I hide in the cellar to keep him from killing me when he wanders back.”
She sits up and wipes her face angrily. “Take as much water as you want. I don’t care. I’m surprised the creatures aren’t here already, with how much of a racket you all are making.”
“Go back to the cellar,” I say. “We’ll leave soon, and you’ll be safe from the Floraes.”
Brenna holds out the pink brush to the lady. “I guess this is yours.”
The woman looks at it. “Keep it.” She turns and walks into the shell of her house.
“Wait!” I call to her, but she hurries into the house and disappears, though I see her peeking through a burned-out window frame. I leave the woman as many protein bars as I can spare on her front steps. “These are for you . . . for the water,” I call out to her.
She pokes her head out of the door. “What’s wrong with them?” she asks suspiciously.
“Nothing. . . . Please, take them,” I tell her.
She bends down and gathers them up in her arms. “Thank you,” she says hesitantly. “I forgot . . . you know. That people can be kind.” She backs away and ducks inside.
I stare after her for a while, sad, but Brenna calls to me and breaks my trance. We stay just long enough to fill up our water bottles. Then, after bleakly surveying the ruined landscape, we get on our bikes and slowly ride away.
I’m quiet for a long time. Brenna, seeming to sense my mood, doesn’t bother to talk until we’re a few miles away.
“She’s been out there a while,” Brenna says. “It’s hard to remember, isn’t it? That Florae are people. We’re so glad when they die, but those are ex-humans that get blown away.”
I don’t say anything. Actually, it isn’t that hard for me to remember. Because my mother started it all. Because I was forced to kill a Florae that used to be a friend.
And this is what Jacks doesn’t understand. Or Rice. Or anyone, really. I don’t have the luxury of starting a life in Fort Black. Or New Hope. Or anywhere. We used to be three, that woman said. Families have been torn apart because of what my mother did. I owe it to them to try to stop the cycle—to stop whatever Dr. Reynolds is pulling now.
But first thing’s first. I have my own family to think about. And Brenna’s helping me get closer.
“Hey, there it is,” Brenna says, pointing to an old strip mall next to the abandoned highway. “That’s where the mechanic’s shop is. . . . Dwayne said there were plenty of gassed-up cars.”
We pedal faster toward the strip mall, containing the auto shop, an old frozen yogurt shop (judging from the remains on the plastic chairs and tables, clearly a site of a huge Florae attack), and a sporting goods store, thoroughly looted. My pulse speeds up as I see the parking lot filled with vehicles. We drop our bikes, running from car to car. Most have keys in the ignition, but the gas caps are all hanging open. The fuel has been siphoned. There are plenty of cars but no gas to get them going.
“Shit,” she says, slapping the open door shut. “They got to this one too.”
I kick the tire of the car nearest me.
“Sorry, Amy,” Brenna calls from the last car in her row, and the last one on the lot. “I didn’t think a Scrapper would have gotten all the gas already. I wonder how he carried it back? He was really on top of that shit.”
I manufacture a smile. “It’s okay. I appreciate your help. I guess I’ll just go on from here on my bike. Are you going to be able to— What are you doing?”
Brenna has pulled a knife and is running straight at me.
I blink, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing, but there’s no mistaking the look on her face. She’s trying to kill me.
No, not Brenna.
She can’t be working with Doc too. But they wanted me away from Jacks, and Brenna just coincidentally showed up to help. Is she going to kill me out here, where no one will ever find me? Or was this just an elaborate trick to get my emitter? She always admired my synth-suit and asked what other gadgets I had.