Нора Робертс - Year One

“No, it’s really not. But it can feel like it.”

“It killed my father, my little brother, the bad. The Doom.”

“I’m hugging you again. Your mom?”

“ They killed her. The ones that hunt us.”

The shiver jumped up Fred’s spine. “Raiders.”

Starr shook her head. “Not them. Others. We tried to run, but they caught us. They raped us, again and again. And laughed. We’re Uncanny, and they can do what they want to us.”

Fred’s wings drooped, receded. “I’m going to sit down with you. I won’t touch you, but I need to sit down.”

“And they hurt us.” The words tumbled out of Starr, bitter and barbed. “Kept hurting us. My mother said—inside my head, she told me to run, and go into the tree. To stay until it was safe. Not to come out, no matter what.”

Starr swiped at her face, smearing dirt with tears. “My mother screamed and fought and tried to run—away from me so they left me to hurt her. And in my head she screamed, RUN! So I ran and ran. When I heard them coming after me, I went into the tree. I heard her screaming, but I didn’t come out. I didn’t come out until they went away.

“They killed her. They hung her from a tree.”

“Oh, Starr, I’m so sorry. It’s not enough, but I’m so sorry. Your mom loved you. She wanted you to be safe.”

“They killed her because I ran away.”

“No.” Fred got up, dug up a paper napkin, tore it in two to share. “They’d have killed both of you, and she knew it. She loved you and made sure they didn’t kill you.”

“I didn’t have a knife then, so I couldn’t climb the tree and cut her down. But I found one, and I went back. I tried to find them so I could kill them. But I couldn’t find them.”

“I think your mom was as brave and loving as any mom ever. I think she’d be glad you’re here with us now. You could live here with me and Arlys if you want. We have room.”

When Starr just shook her head, Fred tried to think of the best solution. “Maybe, at least for now, you’d rather have your own place. We have apartments. You could have one. You’d be with us, but on your own, too. I can show you one, and get you some clothes and supplies. You could, you know, clean up, get some real food, maybe rest for a while.”

“I can leave whenever I want.”

“Sure, but I hope you won’t want to. New Hope’s a good place to…” She trailed off, glanced up at the ceiling light. “Are you doing that?”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“The light’s on. If you didn’t … Holy cow, I think they got the power back.” Fred swiped her tears away, smiled. “I think that makes you our lucky Starr. The day you come, we get the power back on.”

* * *

When Max and his crew rolled into town, cheers greeted them. People rushed out to flock around the truck.

Max saw Lana laughing, running toward him.

Caught her when she jumped into his arms.

“You did it.”

“I gave them the spark. They did the rest.”

She pressed her lips to his ear. “We’re going to take a hot shower. Together.”

“Best prize in the box.”

Someone thumped him on the back; someone else pushed a beer into his hand.

Eddie whipped out his harmonica. A woman sat on the curb with a banjo. When Jonah drove in, people danced in the street.

“Power’s on.” Jonah said it like a prayer. “They got the power on. Go on, Aaron, find Bryar, and give her a whirl. We’ll get this unloaded later.”

“I will.” Aaron opened the door, glanced back. “Don’t carry it with you.”

Jonah turned the ambulance into the school lot. Got out, turned to Poe and Kim. “Go on and celebrate. We’ll have plenty of volunteers to help unload in a bit.”

He shot them a smile that faded the minute they joined the crowd. He couldn’t take the crowd, not even to go through them to get to his house and close himself in. So he went in the side entrance of the school. He sat down behind the desk, dropped his head in his hands.

He didn’t hear the door open again, or the voices. He was too far away in his mind. He heard nothing but his own tortured thoughts until Rachel touched his arm.

“I couldn’t find you. Poe said he saw you come in here. So we…”

“We’ll step out.” Max took Lana’s hand.

“No. No, don’t.” Pale, eyes deep with misery, Jonah sat up.

“What happened?” Rachel demanded. “Poe didn’t say.”

“We got plenty of supplies and equipment from the hospital. No trouble there. And then we went to try the mall, the one where we had trouble before.”

“Raiders?” The hand on his arm dug in. “You ran into Raiders?”

He shook his head. “No, they’d gone. Trashed a lot, inside and out. Christ, pissed on stacks and racks of clothes. Kim bagged them anyway. Piss washes out, she said. Found the usual vandalism. Broken glass, obscenities painted on walls, garbage in heaps and piles.

“And bodies. People mutilated, rotting. Animals, too. Inside and out. Rats and carrion tearing at them. We…”

He stopped, cleared his throat. “We need to take a crew back, dig graves or … maybe another mass pyre. The bodies have been there awhile. I…”

He looked at Max and Lana.

“The place can be cleansed and purified,” Max said. “We can do that. The souls of the lives lost can be blessed.”

“It needs to be. Aaron felt it, too. We didn’t talk about it much, but he felt it. And I, and I— Don’t we have some whiskey?”

Rachel walked to a cabinet, took out a bottle, a glass. She poured two fingers.

Jonah downed it, breathed out.

“I don’t think it was all Raiders. There … something else. And whoever, whatever, it felt worse. They hanged a woman—an Uncanny. We all felt we couldn’t leave her like that. We had to at least cut her down. We got a ladder. I climbed up to cut the rope.

“I see death,” he told Max and Lana. “That’s my gift . Death, physical trauma, sickness. I climbed up to cut the rope, and what was there of her turned, brushed my arm. I saw her life. I saw flashes of who she’d been. I saw what they did to her. I heard her screams. I saw her death.”

He pressed his face to Rachel’s breasts when she put her arms around him. “Her name was Anja. She was twenty-two. She was like Fred. They hacked off her wings before they—”

“Don’t.” Rachel stroked his hair, his back. “Don’t.”

Max pulled up a chair, sat beside the desk. “This is new for you, seeing the life of the dead?”

“Yeah. Just one more gift.”

“It’s hard for you, but I think it is a gift. A gift to those who lived. Someone remembers them. It’s something all of us want. For someone to remember us. We can help you. Lana more than me.”

Max looked at her when Lana said nothing. “You have an empathy. A healing touch.”

She stepped up. “I think you have what you have, Jonah, because you do, too.”

“What does it mean that if I could find the ones who raped her, mutilated her, murdered her, I’d kill them without a single qualm?”

Max rose. “It means you’re human. I’ll go back with you and bury her.”

“When you mark her grave with her name,” Lana said, with a hand on the child who stirred inside her, “when you say the words over her, you’ll free her soul. You’ll ease your own. Mark her grave with her name, say her name.” Lana looked at Max. “I feel that.”

“Then it’s right. Then it’s what we’ll do. I’ll go with you now. We can send a crew for the rest tomorrow.”

Jonah nodded, rose, and shook Max’s hand. “Thank you.”

* * *

Late in the dark of night, Max lay awake with images ripe and clear in his head. He hadn’t seen, hadn’t felt what Jonah had as they’d buried the desecrated remains of a young woman who’d done no harm.