Page 21

“Mama, look,” Aaron called. A giant swallowtail hopped from his arm to his tousled locks, antennae pulsing like radar. Powdered wings in bands of black and yellow spread the width of his head, beating in step with his giggles.

The smell of peat and standing water choked out the mountain mahogany. Wetland smog of death and decay settled over me. I opened my eyes, burning but dry. Always dry. I blinked at the lake. Smooth as glass, the surface didn’t move.

Neither did the bodies piled up in the field below. Two days passed since we returned from Hurlin’s ravine and killed twenty-three aphids. None of us wanted to touch them. But the cloud of rot crept closer, grew stronger. It was time to dump them in the lake.

After breakfast, we gathered around the nine aphids that attacked the first night. Steve parted his lips and tightened an arm against his gut. Eugene squatted next to one and slurped coffee from a travel mug. “Damn. That there’s a lard bucket full of armpits.” He fanned his nose.

“An astute observation,” I said.

“Beauty and brains, Evie girl.” He puckered his lips and mimed hair fluffing.

We laughed. Even Steve looked a little less sick. Joel rolled a wheelbarrow next to the first pile. Then Joel and Steve hauled while Eugene and I stood guard.

One by one they carted them to the far side of the shoreline, each body more spoiled than the last. The ground was too hard to dig holes. Burning them would attract attention. So, they dumped them as far away from the boat house, and our swimming spot, as they could manage, and watched the alien bodies dissolve in the water.

Eugene lent assistance as the morning wore on. Two hours later and only one breakfast lost—Steve looked the better for it—I plopped next to Eugene on the dock. Rough breaths pushed through his mouth.

I patted his sweat soaked back. “You okay?”

“It’s hotter’n a taste bud in a pepper eating contest.” He dabbed at his forehead with a rag then used it to blot each armpit.

I nodded. “Those bastards are heavy too, huh? I found that out the hard way.” I told him about my encounter with the aphid by the pool.

Eugene whistled. “Ain’t that something? Not surprisin’ though seein’ how you move like ‘em.”

Oh hell. I didn’t like the undercurrent of his tone. Every time he smiled and met my eyes, was he looking for tiny pupils? He always took his meals with me. Was he making sure I hadn’t switched to a liquid diet?

My expression must have betrayed me because he said, “But don’t you worry ‘bout that, Evie girl. I reckon the Lord’s got big plans for you. Your ol’ man would be proud.” He rested a hand on my leg, fingers squeezing my inner thigh.

“Thanks, Eugene.” I wiggled away from the touch. “Now let’s go cool down and wash off the bug sludge.”

We joined Steve and Joel at the end of the dock. They were down to their briefs. Droplets of sweat glimmered on their backs. I stripped off my vest and weapons at the edge. Then I plunged into the water. Damn, it felt good.

A shampoo bottle and a bar of soap sat on the dock’s edge. We bathed there. We hauled drinking water from there. I tried not to think about that.

Under the murky water, I stripped off my clothes and tossed them next to my boots and weapons.

Joel sprawled on a life vest and floated over to me. “I’ve been thinking.”

My fingers shot to his temples and I massaged with feigned concern. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

He grunted. “You’re not as cute as you think you are.”

A wiry hair curled away from his sideburns, begging to be yanked. I obliged.

“Ow.” He slapped a hand over the hurt. “Listen, witch.” The water rippled as he heaved me flush against him. “I need you to clear your calendar for the next few weeks.”

“Hmm. That’ll be tough. Who’s gonna reorganize the sock drawers and buff the handguns to award-winning shine?”

“My point. We need to keep busy. So we’re going to start training again.”

I widened my eyes. “Really? Just like old times?”

He flashed me one of his glad-you-approve grins. “We’ll start with a refresher on knife throwing since you seem so intent on cleaving bugs. Then we’ll brush up on your hand-to-hand techniques. And once I’m satisfied…” His grin widened. “I’ll drill you on swat scenarios until you hate me.”

I looped my arms around his neck. “Oh, Mr. Delina, I could never hate you.” I brushed my lips along his whiskered cheek. “But why the renewed interest? If you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of already kicking ass.”

His hands circled my waist, letting the life vest float out from under him. “Yeah, and good thing it’s not getting to your head.” He palmed my backside, dipping into the cleavage. “But practice will make you better. And after watching you dance with those bugs, it’s like you…”