“Your gun is somewhere safe.”
“Safest place for my rifle is in my own hands.”
Lander spread his hands in front of him, still smiling. “And I’m open to that. Your daughter has shared her abilities with us, and I understand your own lie in a more…”
“Violent,” Lynn provided. “You can say it.”
“A more violent path, then,” he finished.
“True enough.”
“So this is your gift to the world?”
Lynn’s eyebrows flew up, and Lucy felt herself bracing for the backlash. “I don’t remember ever getting a gift in the first place, or signing up for any kind of exchange.”
“Did we not give you life?”
“My mother gave me life; saving it was your choice. The only gift I give is death.”
Something flickered across his face, and Lander moved closer to Lynn, graceful as a cat. He towered over her, muscles rippling in his arms as he put a massive palm against Lynn’s throat, slim and pale after her illness. He leaned in to whisper to her, “Even now?”
Lucy breathed quietly in the shadows, tensing herself to spring, should she have to.
Lynn looked up at Lander, the strength of her voice vibrating his fingers where they lay. “Even now, you big son of a bitch.”
He burst out laughing, a sound so overpowering that not even the living air of the garden could soak it up, and it rolled out into the lobby to echo off the dark walls and back to them. “I like you,” he declared, and slapped Lynn on the back, which pushed her forward a foot. “I like you a lot.”
Lynn shot Lucy a look. “Fantastic.”
His hands fastened onto Lynn’s shoulders, and he beamed into her upturned face. “Then let’s see what you can do.”
Lynn’s rifle seemed to have missed her as its bullets sang out over the city, dropping targets at growing distances as Lander pointed out signs, car windows, anything that caught his eye. Nora had insisted on following them to the roof when she learned her patient would be climbing steps. Lander had carried Lynn the last hundred or so, cradled in his arms like a doll, while she likewise cradled the rifle.
It was soon clear exactly how novel gunshots were in Las Vegas. Bailey appeared shortly after the sharp cracks of the bullets, puffing her way to the roof as if she expected an insurrection she would single-handedly end. Her amazement at seeing Lynn with her gun in hand turned to bitterness in seconds flat, and Lucy kept her eye on the big lady, noting how her pinched face contracted even more with every compliment Lander paid to Lynn.
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.”
Twenty-Eight
“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.