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“Yes. That. I tried to talk them out of it, but they were determined.”

“Out of what? And quit dodging the question. Are they dead?”

“I don’t know. They left five weeks ago. They went back to Iowa.”

My chest felt suddenly heavy. “Why? And why’d they leave Rebecca here?”

“They went to look for you.”

“They what?”

“They went into the red zone to find you, Alex. We haven’t heard any news of them since they left.”

“Crap.” I swung my legs out of the bed, realized I was naked, and pulled a corner of the covers over my lap. I’d spent the last eight weeks struggling to reach my uncle’s farm, figuring that once I got here my quest would be complete. But it wasn’t. Sure, I’d be safe here, but if I were only looking for a safe place to stay, I never would have left Mrs. Nance’s school in Worthington. “I’ve got to go back. Try to find them.” I looked around for my clothing but didn’t see it.

“No. You’re safe here-”

“But they’re not safe in Iowa. They’ve got no idea what they’re getting into.”

“They had some idea before they left. Things have been rough here, too. I traded a pair of breeding goats for a shotgun and gave it to your dad.”

“My dad? With a shotgun? No way. He’s liable to hurt himself.”

“People have changed. Your dad’s not the same man he was. Heck, you’re not the same either-I don’t see any sign of the sullen kid who used to bury his nose in a computer game or book the moment he got here.”

“Yeah, well.” I didn’t care much for being called a sullen kid. But maybe he was right. I had changed. “I should go back. I know what to expect in Iowa now. They might need help. I didn’t even leave a note at the house, and my bedroom is completely collapsed. There was a fire, too. If they get there, they might think I’m dead. I guess Darren and Joe know I was alive when I left, but they might be dead or gone by now.”

“If they can’t find you, they’ll come back here for Rebecca. If you go, how will you find them? You’ve already passed each other on the road. And this winter is only going to get worse. All the ash and sulfur dioxide in the air is going to wreck the weather for years. It’s going to get colder and harder to travel-”

“With skis I can-”

“You might need skis just to travel next summer. The volcanic winter might last a decade, nobody knows for sure.”

A decade of winter? That hit hard. How would anyone survive?

“Just wait, Alex. Maybe they’ll come back. If they haven’t shown up next summer, maybe conditions will be better so you can go look for them. Maybe by then FEMA will be in Iowa.”

“Huh. That’d hurt more than it’d help.”

“At least they clear the roads and maintain some order.”

“You haven’t done time in a FEMA camp.” My face was tense, scowling.

“No. But there’s another reason you shouldn’t take off after your folks. You’re needed here. I need your help. We could be looking at years without a reliable food source. We need to stockpile corn and wood, build more greenhouses, and figure out some way to keep feeding the goats and ducks. There’s an immense amount of work to be done.”

I nodded grudgingly. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But if Mom and Dad haven’t shown up by next spring, I’m going to go look for them. In the meantime, I’ll help-although Darla will be way more helpful than me. She was running a farm practically alone when we met.”

“Let’s not make any decisions today. It may be summer before the weather improves-if it does at all. But okay. If we can get things on a solid footing here, I’ll consider supplying you for an expedition back to Cedar Falls.”

“Where’s my clothing?”

“It was infested with lice. We hung it in a corner of the barn. I’m thinking the lice might die eventually if there’s no one for them to feed on. I’m not sure.”

“Yuck.” I felt itchy all over.

“I’ll get some of mine for you. Come down to the kitchen when you’re dressed; it’s dinnertime.”

Chapter 54

My cousins Max and Anna, my sister, and my uncle were sitting at the table in the kitchen. I saw Aunt Caroline and Darla through a window, cooking over a fire outside.

The table was already set. I sat down and drained the glass of water in front of me in a few gulps.

“Jugs on the counter are drinking water,” Uncle Paul said. “Help yourself if you want more.”

I got up and refilled my glass. While I was up, Darla came through the back door carrying a frying pan and a plate stacked high with omelets. Aunt Caroline followed, hefting a plate of cornbread.

It was an odd dinner, but by far the best meal I’d eaten in weeks. The cornbread was real-not corn pone. The omelet was delicious, but it didn’t taste quite like any omelet I’d ever eaten. The stuffing was some purplish leaf I couldn’t identify, and the eggs and cheese tasted weird-not bad, but different. I asked Aunt Caroline about it.

“It’s a duck-egg, goat-cheese, and kale omelet,” she replied.

“The ducks are mine,” Anna said, grinning proudly.

“I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep the ducks,” Uncle Paul said. Anna glared at him, but he continued, “Or the goats, for that matter. We’re going to run out of hay.”

“How’d you keep them alive through the ashfall?” Darla asked.

“We didn’t-not as well as I’d have liked, anyway. We lost four ducks and two goats to silicosis. But when we figured out what was going on, we started keeping them in the barn all the time and spreading wet straw to keep the dust down.”

“Where’d the kale come from?” I asked.

“We planted a fall garden in our greenhouses, before the eruption. But it got cold so fast that only the kale survived. We’ve been feeding the dead cucumber vines, tomato plants, and so on to the goats, but we’re out of those now. We’ve replanted-mostly kale, so I hope you like it.”

“Tastes fine to me,” I said.

“Your taste buds need tuning up,” Max said grumpily, although he was eating his kale omelet, too.

“Tell us about your trip,” Uncle Paul said. “From the little bit Darla’s told us, you had a rough time.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I said. That wasn’t exactly true. I didn’t even want to think about it, much less talk.

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.”

I hoped he’d drop it, change the subject or something, but he kept asking questions. So I slowly released the breath I’d been holding in and relented. For the rest of the dinner and a couple of hours afterward, I told them my story. Darla pitched in some after I got to the part where I had met her. I paused before I told them about Darla’s mom being raped and murdered. I wasn’t sure how much I should say with Anna, Max, and my sister there. Anna and Max were ten and twelve, or maybe eleven and thirteen-I wasn’t sure. My sister would be fourteen next month. I asked Uncle Paul, “How much of this do you want me to talk about with your kids here? What happened when we got back from Worthington, it was… obscene. I’m not sure I even want my sister to hear this.”

Paul and Caroline glanced at each other. He said, “Go on. They need to know about the world they live in now.”

“Anna might get nightmares,” Caroline said.

Paul turned to Anna, “Do you want to stay? You don’t have to listen if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll stay,” she said.

So I told the whole story to everyone. Still, I tried to gloss over the worst parts of it. Darla certainly didn’t need to relive that day. I took her hand and squeezed it, offering whatever meager support I could.

When I finished talking, Rebecca was staring at me, her head tilted at a slight angle.

“What?” I asked.

“I can’t believe you did all that. I always knew that you were, like, tougher than you seemed, but-”

“I wouldn’t have survived without Darla.”

Rebecca turned her gaze on Darla. They looked at each other for a moment; then my sister nodded, and Darla smiled a little. I wasn’t sure what to make of the exchange. Somehow during the last eight weeks my exuberant, chatty sister had been replaced by this thoughtful alien who could communicate with a look what would have taken the old Rebecca an hour’s worth of words.