Page 56

Claire

I f John had been wary after Zach Jameson’s threat at the dance, he was downright paranoid in the week after Danny’s attack and the vandalism in the schoolroom.

He stuck to me like glue at any moment that I wasn’t teaching.

Now that planting season had started in earnest, he had Kimmy run the tractor so that he could be at my side every morning for chores.

He drove me to and from school on teaching days.

When he had to work on the farm or in the distillery, he took me with him, and when he had to patrol, he left me with Kimmy, the only person besides himself that he trusted to protect me.

No matter where we were, he was alert, on guard, watching our surroundings like a hawk.

The only time I was ever alone was in the house, though even there, he tended to hover over me, as though worried I might spontaneously burst into flames.

Even still, I felt his fear, because every single night since the vandalism, he’d made love to me—sometimes tender and sweet, other times rough and urgent and anxious, like he couldn’t get enough of me before I disappeared forever .

“I’m alright, love,” I murmured after one such session, stroking his hair. He’d laid his head against my naked chest, every part of his body touching mine, his arms firmly around my middle.

“I know,” he sighed, and he stayed there like that, quiet and still, until I fell asleep.

The parents of my students were shaken, too.

I saw it in their eyes when they dropped their kids off.

Even so, several of them pulled me aside and expressed their support for me, and how much they wanted me to stay on.

If that hadn’t convinced me, the continued development of my students would have; they remained as bright and engaged as ever, even with the massive sheet I’d had to hang on the back wall to conceal the writing.

I’d have to find time, eventually, to paint over the offensive message.

Under a microscope, the Valley’s medical team had determined that the blood used on the wall wasn’t human, which was the only good news about the incident.

There were few viable suspects, since school had been cancelled the day after Danny’s attack.

The vandalism could’ve happened anytime between the night of his attack and the next school day, a whole day later.

In that time, dozens of people had passed through the Lodge, and nobody claimed to have seen anything suspicious.

There didn’t seem to be any movement on finding the culprit behind Danny’s attack, either.

One thing seemed certain, at least in John’s mind: it hadn’t been done by an outsider.

Indeed, there was no evidence in the weeks to come that anyone had breached the Valley’s security.

John naturally suspected Zach, but there was no proof, despite continued investigation.

I hated that he never felt at ease anymore, but in the end, I was grateful for his constant vigilance, even when it was inconvenient. It made me feel safer at a time when everything seemed unstable and uncertain.

A week after the vandalism, I sat in the living room with Kimmy and Asha while John was on patrol.

It was late evening, and fire crackled in the fireplace as Kimmy sat in the recliner with her knitting.

Wrapped in a blanket on the sofa, I consulted a farmer’s almanac for useful information on the upcoming growing season.

Asha simply sat on the other end of the couch, a hot mug of tea in her hand .

Kimmy set down her knitting with a yawn. “I think I’ll head to bed, if it’s alright with you.”

She looked over at Asha, who nodded and replied, “Wait for me. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

I raised my eyebrows. They usually didn’t openly go to bed together and had separate rooms. I couldn’t miss the spark in Kimmy’s eyes as she bid me goodnight and headed upstairs.

“That’s new,” I said, nudging Asha with my foot. “Look at you, playing house with your girlfriend.”

She grinned, but it didn’t reach her eyes. For several minutes, the silence between us was deafening, yet she looked as though she wanted to speak.

“What are you thinking, Asha?” I finally asked. “You have that silent, brooding thing happening again.”

She sighed again. “I’m thinking about the message on the schoolroom wall. The way the Wastelanders here will never accept us, no matter how kind you are to them. No matter what you do.”

I frowned. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Then why do you live like a prisoner now?” she asked, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “You can’t go anywhere without him. You have to stay inside, tucked away, so no one can hurt you. It’s wrong.”

“John is protecting me,” I replied steadily. “It won’t be forever, but it’s a difficult time right now. When things calm down—”

“Things will never calm down,” Asha cut in. “It’s been months, Claire. Months that you pledge your loyalty and serve a community of people who have such disdain for you that they deface the very place that you teach their children.”

“It wasn’t everyone,” I retorted. “The parents of my students wouldn’t do that.”

“How long are you going to keep defending these Wastelanders?” Asha demanded, springing to her feet. “How long are you and I going to try hopelessly to fit in with these Wastelanders who scorn us, who never wanted us? Next time Zach Jameson comes around, what if he hurts you? You could be killed.”

“That was always a risk,” I said wearily. “I knew that long before we got here.”

“And you were willing to settle, because you had no choice. ”

I felt a prickle of irritation. “I did have a choice. I chose to stay with John and Kimmy.”

“When the alternative is going it alone or being dumped in some other nowhere town with Wastelanders you didn’t know, is it really a choice? Even Farm Boy is preferable to that.”

She sat back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest and eyeing me with an air of superiority that rankled me to my core.

“You care for Kimmy,” I said coldly. “She’s just as much a Wastelander as John or anyone else here, by Cave standards.”

For the first time, Asha hesitated. “Kimmy’s different.”

“In what way?” I asked, annoyed. “Because she immediately reached out to you and tried to bridge the gap between how you lived before and how you have to live now? She did that for me, too. It’s who she is.

She’s a wonderful person…as are many of the people who live here, if you’d bother to notice. ”

Asha clucked her tongue impatiently. “There were plenty of them willing to toss us out. Only reason they didn’t is because John held their feet to the fire.”

“Yeah, which somehow didn’t warm you to him at all,” I shot back. “He saved you from that.”

“You think he gives a damn what happens to me?” she replied huffily. “He did that for you. I was the spare.”

She shook her head. “You’re doing what you always do, making excuses for these Wastelanders who act exactly like Wastelanders do: they’re willing to do anything to keep even the tiny bit of power they’ve carved out for themselves.”

“Our compound was no better,” I argued. “We killed not only Wastelanders, but our own people, ostensibly to keep the peace.”

“But at least we lived in safety!” Asha burst out, folding her arms. “Safety and comfort. Here, we make do with what we’ve got, but this’ll never stop being a backwater bit of nowhere, Claire, and you know it.”

I clenched my jaw. “Summerhurst isn’t nowhere. It’s our home.”

“Yeah, sure, it’s you and John’s home. It’ll never be mine.”

The words landed like a blow. After months of trying to fit in, I’d finally found my place in the Valley…but Asha hadn’t. Asha, who was gone as often as she could be. Who’d made no real friends and seemed to have no desire to .

“If that’s how you feel,” I said, rubbing my eyes, “then how do you expect to stay here?”

Asha bit her lip. “What if there was a way to go home? And that we could go—you and me.”

I balked. “What do you mean? Home is gone.”

“Just answer. What would you do if you had a real choice—if you and I could leave, go back to something like our old lives?”

I tensed at the suggestion. For the first time, I felt true disgust toward Asha. She would throw away what we had for the half-life we’d once lived?

“How could you ask me that?” I said, unable to keep the indignation out of my voice.

“Before you get upset, think about it,” Asha replied, holding up her hands defensively.

“You’d finally be safe again. No more looking over your shoulder for the Order, or for backward Wastelanders who feel threatened just by your presence.

Imagine walking down the street without worry.

And having all the things you miss—libraries, stores, proper school supplies for your students.

Imagine going grocery shopping again instead of slaving away in a field, for God’s sake. ”

As she spoke, my old life came alive again in my mind’s eye, filled with all the modern conveniences I couldn’t deny I sometimes missed. In many ways, daily life was certainly easier in the compound. But it came at a steep price of freedom and autonomy, and of the kind of love that I had with John.

Even if I had to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life, I wanted to be with him. He was part of me now, and he made me stronger. He was the one who taught me what it meant to be brave.

“I love John,” I said softly, leaning back against my pillow. “And I love the Valley.”

“But—”

“I’ll always choose them, Asha. You were right that you’re not the friend I remember, but here’s something you missed: I’m not, either.”