Mindy McGinnis - In a Handful of Dust

Ben was hot on Bailey’s heels, his cheeks flushed and any assistance he might’ve been able to bring to the imagined threat spent on the climb itself. He collapsed at Lucy’s feet and began lecturing her on how the long-dead elevators had operated. She made semi-interested noises at the appropriate times, which she’d learned was the only encouragement Ben needed to keep talking.

Lucy could see people in the streets shading their eyes against the glare and looking toward the gunshots. Lander waved to let them know all was well and continued to point out targets for Lynn, whose frail arms could only hold the rifle for so long. Eventually she lay down prone on the roof but kept shooting. “Lucy,” she called out, “some water.”

Lucy came forward and dropped next to Lynn to swap the bottle for the rifle, the easy feel of the weapon changing hands so familiar they could’ve been on the roof of their own home.

“Take a look,” Lynn said, pointing toward the west. “Something new.”

Lucy leaned into the rifle, her eyelashes brushing against the scope and bringing back memories in a flood. It wasn’t the green fields of Ohio she saw, but the burnt-out streets of Las Vegas, with drifts of sand invading the areas people had surrendered back to the desert. Sprawled in the sun, amid the broken buildings and rusted cars, was a huge cat, its tail twitching with pleasure as it soaked up the rays.

“Lord above.” Lucy blinked and pulled away from the scope. “How big is that thing?”

At home there had been a few feral cats, generations removed from their domesticated ancestors and mean as hell. Lucy remembered them as half-starved, hissing balls of fur, nothing like the majestic, well-muscled animal sleeping in the middle of the abandoned city.

“Big. It’s a mountain lion,” Nora said. “Group of them moved into that side of town years ago.”

Lucy rolled onto her elbow to look at Nora. “They a problem?”

“ Yes ,” Nora said.

Lynn took the rifle back from Lucy. “Why don’t you run them off?”

“Because you’re holding the only gun in this whole city,” Lander answered.

“And it’s time you handed it back,” Bailey added.

“No, shoot it first.” Nora had come up to the edge of the roof beside Lander, her shadow falling across Lynn and Lucy. “Shoot that one lying out there like she owns the place.”

To Lucy’s surprise, Lynn looked to Lander before sighting the cat again, and she found her gut twisting at the thought of Lynn’s crosshairs on the unsuspecting creature. The rifle cracked, and in the distance Lucy could see a streak of color as the she-cat fled for cover.

“Damn,” Lynn said, shading her eyes. “I missed.”

“Let her have the gun, Lander,” Nora said. Lander was about to object when Nora raised her hand to stop him. “Let her come up here while you or someone else is with her. You know as well as I do there are some buildings we can’t even get to anymore because of the cats and the coyotes. If she picks them off, we can recover all that water.”

Lander gave Nora a hard look but she didn’t drop her gaze, and her next words were directed at Lynn. “I’ll give you part of my water ration for every cat you drop,” she added, defiant eyes still on Lander.

Lynn looked between the two of them and unloaded her gun. “No need. I don’t find myself liking the taste of your water.”

“And why’s that?” Bailey bristled, as if personally insulted.

“Tastes bad,” Lynn said, handing the unspent bullets over to Lander.

“Can I be the one to stay up here with her?” Ben spoke up. “I want to see her get some of the coyotes.”

“Since everyone is assuming she will in fact be shooting,” Lander said, “I’d like to be the one who accompanies her.”

“And you’re all assuming I’m staying here in the first place,” Lynn said, her words casual but her tone stopping the very breeze.

Lander’s smile was back, warm and caring. “Where would you go? Even if we gave you water, once you walk out of here there are no guarantees.”

“You can’t walk anywhere, in your shape,” Nora added. “I wouldn’t let you leave.”

Lucy saw Lynn bristle. “I’m not sure you letting me is—”

“We plan on staying until I can find you a good source of freshwater,” Lucy interrupted. “We figure by then Lynn’ll be feeling well enough we can get along and I’ll have repaid our debt to you.”

“That so?” Lander said, holding out his hand for the rifle. “Well, I hope we can convince you to stay, between now and then.”

“So how bad is it, really?” Lucy asked Nora as they stripped the beds she and Lynn had been using.

“What do you mean?” Nora asked, all attention on the sheets.

“If Lander’s willing to give Lynn a gun to free up the route to water you’ve been cut off from, you’ve got limited supplies.”

Lucy moved her small pile of belongings before tearing the dirty sheet off her bed. The clothes she’d been wearing on the road had been washed and returned to her, folded into a tight square so thin she could feel her thumb rubbing her forefinger through it. Her single boot she’d kept, and it stood sentinel on top of her threadbare clothes, waiting to be moved to the new room Nora had cleared them for now that Lynn no longer needed an IV.

“I wouldn’t say they’re limited,” Nora answered.

“You wouldn’t say that ’cause you’re too scared to, or because that’s not the case?” Lynn asked from the corner, where she rested in a wheelchair.

Nora turned to Lynn, irritation chasing manners from her features. “Look, I don’t know why you’ve got it in your head the whole world is made to harm. We’re good people here, and if saving your life without knowing the first thing about you isn’t proof enough, I don’t know what is.” She snapped the final clean sheet onto Lucy’s bed. Lucy could see her teeth digging into her lower lip as she worked.

“That’s great and all, but you didn’t exactly answer the question,” Lynn said, but Nora ignored her, lost in her work.

“That mountain lion was something else,” Lucy said, searching for a different subject. “We’ve got coyotes back home, but I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“They’re a menace,” Nora said through gritted teeth as she moved to Lynn’s bed. Lucy watched as a clean white sheet sailed overhead. “It began with only one or two down in the residential area. Some of the men would see them when they raided the homes.

“The smaller critters, like skunks and raccoons, came into town shortly after all the water went off. Smelled all the food rotting, I guess. Cats followed them, coyotes too. We all hoped enough human activity would keep them away from the strip, but…” Nora broke off to tuck the corner of the sheet tightly under the mattress. “We started seeing coyotes in the main roads after a bit, and the lions followed them into the city.”

Nora stood straight and surveyed the bright white of the empty beds, as clean as if Lynn and Lucy had never been there. “I’ll show you your new room,” she said.

They went up a floor, the heat rising enough for them to notice. Lucy cracked the balcony door of their new room to see black clouds piling in the distance. “Might rain,” she called to Lynn, but Nora was the one who joined her outside, the long curtains flapping in between them.

“She’s out of breath,” Nora said. “Your mother is weaker than she looks.”

“She’ll be fine.”

Nora came to the railing beside Lucy. “I know you’ve counted on her for a long time, little one. But the type of bodily injury she suffered… some people never come back from that, not fully. I don’t know that leaving would be wise. Ever.”