The Garden of Darkness

“I like Tilda,” said Mirri.

“You’d like anyone who played Pretty Ponies with you,” said Sarai.

Meanwhile, Rick and Noah set up the tent in the living room. “The smaller space warms up fast,” Noah explained when Clare, Jem, Sarai and Mirri came back out from the kitchen.

The atmosphere loosened up a little as they all sat by the fire together.

“Since Noah and Tilda and I met up,” said Rick, “we’ve never stayed in one place for long.”

“Our first place was good,” said Jem. “But then we used up almost all the supplies in the area.”

“Are you staying here for the winter?” asked Rick. “Because it doesn’t look that way; it sort of looks like you’re packing up.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” said Jem.

Tilda broke the tension with a massive yawn.

“I need to take off some layers,” she said. “I think I’m starting to steam.”

“Me too,” said Noah.

“Just pile your stuff by the woodstove,” said Jem. “It’ll soon dry out.”

Tilda started unwinding her scarf and took off her outer jacket.

“This takes a long time,” she said. “I‘m wearing about seven layers.”

It was the most they had heard Tilda say so far.

Rick motioned to Clare. “Can I talk to you?” he asked. She looked over at Jem, Sarai and Mirri. Then she bent down and stroked Bear, who was lying at her feet. It was comforting how close he stayed to her. Always.

“All right,” she said.

“Outside.”

“Okay. But I’d really prefer it if Jem came, too.”

“You’re the oldest.”

“That’s not how it works here. Anything you tell me, I’ll be telling Jem later. And if we go outside, my dog comes too.”

“There’s no need to be afraid,” said Rick. “I promise.”

“I’m not afraid.”

Bear, who had been watching Clare the whole time, rose when she moved to the door.

“Clare?” asked Jem, when he saw where they were going.

“I’ll be right back, Jem. Don’t worry. Bear’s coming.” And Clare looked up at Rick, only to see that he had his eyes fixed on her.

“Don’t stay out too long,” said Jem. “It’s cold.”

The moon was a silver disc in the sky and the soft mounds of snow looked like graves in the dim light.

“Pest can’t be very far away for you,” said Rick, as the door closed behind them.

“Mirri and Sarai are far too young for Pest, and Jem’s only thirteen.” The words sounded odd in Clare’s ears. She didn’t think of Jem as thirteen.

“I meant you, not all of you. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“That’s not your business.”

“Jem can find a place and winter it out with Sarai and Mirri. But, if you like, you can come with us.”

“South?”

“No. To the Master. You know about the Master?”

Clare looked at Rick with astonishment. “You lied to us about where you’re going? What on earth for?”

“Noah and Tilda and I agreed on what we’d say if we met other children. We don’t want hangers-on; we don’t know what the Master’s resources are.”

“That’s pretty cold.”

“I know your friends would agree to let you come. Or at least they wouldn’t stop you—not with Noah and me backing you up.”

“Me. Without Jem.”

“Pest will catch up with you,” said Rick.

A light wind ruffled the tops of the snowdrifts and Clare pulled Michael’s Varsity jacket closer around her.

“I want to go back in,” she said.

“Jem has some years to go. You’re running out of time.”

“You seem to know a lot more about this than we do.”

Rick lowered his voice. “Maybe you haven’t heard yet, but the Master’s broadcasting on a wider frequency now. He’s setting up a new society, and he keeps saying that he has the real cure. He says the onset of Pest is between sixteen and eighteen. He’s our chance. He’s your chance.”

“What’s all this secret stuff about taking me out here to talk to me?”

“I like you.”

Clare felt as if she were back in high school. “You’re kidding.”

“No. No, I’m not.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I can see you in your eyes.” He looked at her intently “They’re very special.”

“You can leave off with the ‘eyes are the windows to the soul’ crap.”

“Are you and the boy lovers? Because if you are—”

Clare was suddenly, inexplicably angry. Bear seemed to feel her agitation, and he gave a low growl.

“Jem’s thirteen,” she said. “What do you think?”

“I think that I don’t know.”

“No. We aren’t lovers. We’re friends. Best friends. But that isn’t your business, either.”

“I just want you to get through to Master.”

“You can stop talking now. I’m going in.”