Sophie Littlefield - Horizon

At least she hadn’t told them the other thing. About how Cass and Ruthie had been infected. Sammi couldn’t bring herself to spread that, knowing what she knew-the immunity was super-rare but if you were immune, you weren’t a danger to anyone. There were people in New Eden who’d completely freak if they knew, idiots who’d probably want Cass gone, just because she’d been sick in the past. And even angry, Sammi knew that going that far would be wrong.

Besides, if her dad found out she’d talked to Mr. Swarmer, he’d probably be furious. He could be such a bastard but he was kind of rigid about right and wrong, at least his version of right and wrong. He’d be all over her about lying, even though he’d been lying to Valerie all along-one look at her tearstained, puffy face when she came by earlier with her friends made it clear she’d had no idea about Cass. But what went on between adults, that way, was a private matter. The council would probably all disapprove-and given what a bunch of tight-ass losers they were, she guessed they’d disapprove a lot -but there was nothing they could actually do about it.

Besides…if Sammi told people about that, then her dad would be implicated too. And Sammi wasn’t ready to take that step. She hated him, true, but he was all the family she had left, and he’d do anything for her, to keep her safe. She couldn’t let go of that right now. Maybe if Jed was still around…but no. Jed was dead.

So she couldn’t bring herself to hurt her dad, and she had a ready-made way to hurt Cass, and that was what she had done, and at first it had felt really good, to imagine Cass getting her wrists slapped, having everyone spying on her all the time to make sure she wasn’t drinking, and if they were watching Cass like a hawk then she’d sure have a hard time sneaking out to meet her dad, right, which was a win for everyone…

Except Sammi was starting to think she’d made a mistake. A big one.

Half an hour ago Ingrid and Suzanne had come by with Jasmine between them and Twyla holding Dane’s and Dirk’s hands, and Elsa had been with them and they were talking about a car. A car for the moms with little kids, and Jasmine, who was ready to pop. So that was what, three adults and three kids, which was a full car right there.

And no one said anything about Cass and Ruthie. Which meant they weren’t getting a ride, even though they had every bit as much of a right as the others-or they would have, anyway, if Sammi hadn’t started a rumor that might not even be all the way true.

And that still wasn’t any big deal because Sammi knew, deep down inside, that come morning it was going to be basically everyone for themselves. Sure, there’d be a lot of talk about sticking together, and the smartest people would figure out ways to stay in groups, while it suited them, but in the end they’d all have to fend for themselves. Everyone would be so focused on saving their own asses there wouldn’t be much left over for taking care of anyone else. People would get left, abandoned. Discarded. But at least in that regard, Cass was in better shape than most. Despite her drinking thing she was strong and fit and brave and healthy.

But then there was Ruthie…

Ruthie wasn’t like other little kids. She spooked kind of easy, and then she went quiet, really quiet, like she thought if she played invisible the problem would go away. In the community center earlier tonight, when Cass left to help her dad, Ruthie wrapped her arms so tight around Sammi’s neck that she was almost strangling her. She put her little face against Sammi’s and made a tiny little whimpering sound. Ruthie was not strong, not the way you had to be to get through what lay ahead. And she was only three. Three.

What if the thing that Sammi had done had condemned both of them? What if it was her fault that they wouldn’t get to ride tomorrow, safe inside a car, protected by all that steel and-as long as the gas held out-able to outrun the Beaters?

Down by her feet, Kyra turned over and sighed unconsciously. Sammi couldn’t believe anyone could sleep through this, and Sage was leaning all her weight against Sammi, and if she didn’t move soon both of Sammi’s legs were going to go to sleep. Carefully, slowly, she eased Sage off her and scooted down next to Kyra. Still neither of them woke up.

Sammi wanted to walk, to shake out her legs and work off some of this excess energy. The boys were down helping pile things up and load the vehicles; she wished she was with them. Helping out, keeping her mind off things. Or maybe going for a walk with Colton, one last trip around the island, just to say goodbye-although Colton had been acting weird for a few weeks, hanging around with Shane and that creeper Owen Mason, the guy who grew weed and taught them how to roll. Owen liked to get high, but he liked fires even more-the only useful thing he ever did was to tend the bonfires whenever there was a celebration. There were rumors that he liked fires too much. That he’d set the brush fires up on North Island.

Owen was the kind of guy who-and Sammi knew it was wrong even to think it-you wouldn’t mind if he’d died in the Siege. The kind of guy who made everyone nervous, even if he held a certain kind of fascination, at least for Colton and the other boys, with his personal stash of drug paraphernalia and weird martial-arts weapons and who knew what else.

Sammi hadn’t seen the boys at all since Phillip got locked up, come to think of it. And it made her uneasy, wondering if they were with Owen.

But she didn’t want to leave Sage and Kyra alone. She felt responsible. This was new, and Sammi wasn’t sure she liked it-feeling accountable for people. Her friends…and Ruthie, and Cass. It had been so much easier back when nobody expected much from her at all, when she was just an ordinary kid who was bratty to her parents and maybe a little spoiled, who loved soccer and listening to music and painting her nails and shopping, who wasn’t responsible for anything but keeping curfew and getting her homework done, and half the time she didn’t even manage that, but it never mattered back then.

Now it mattered, the things she did mattered. Or maybe they didn’t. In a couple of hours the sun would rise and they would all set out. It would be their last day on earth or it wouldn’t, and Sammi had watched enough people die to know that none of it was in her control anyway.

Sammi looked around one last time at everyone rushing around in the dark. She sighed and let her eyelids flutter closed, and thought about Jed, about the way they used to stay up talking until they were so tired they fell asleep in the middle of their sentences. After a few minutes she stretched out her legs to get more comfortable, and snuggled a little closer to Sage.

Just resting. Just for a few minutes.

It had been Zihna’s idea to wait until they heard the sound of engines turning over, of the procession starting out. This way, they’d avoid any more of the others’ logistical arguments on the way off the island. By then, presumably, everything would have been worked out-who was riding with whom, who was going to be left behind.

There was the matter of the two dead. Cass had told Red only that they had been trying to drown Smoke. Red was mystified about how an injured, unarmed man could kill two healthy ones, but Cass was not in a mood to talk. In fact, that was the last thing she’d said to him after they’d agreed that Smoke would ride with Ruthie on the trailer and the other three would take turns pulling it.

Red was a little concerned about that. He was in a lot better shape than he looked. He might not be able to erase the effects on his face from all those years on the road, but his body had certainly benefited from several years of his abstemious new life. No drinking or smoking even before the Siege, and the construction work he’d picked up to supplement his income had hardened him. On the island he kept busy. He and Zihna did yoga together, and she could make him break a sweat practicing the most innocuous-looking poses.