Where do we go? I have to get him far away. Somewhere he can’t be found. If people know he has the Worm, they’ll kill him. I’m certain of it. It’s best if I move north, where there are fewer people. I’ll find some abandoned house somewhere and keep Eric locked away safe. Then I’ll just scrounge for food as usual. Hunt deer. It’s spring. I’ll find something. Just stay away from people.
I have to get Eric out of here as soon as I can. I have to leave the Homestead, and I have to do it at night. Not tonight, though. There’s too many things to do, too many plans to make. It will have to be tomorrow night, at the earliest. I need time to gather and pack and think.
The thought of leaving the Homestead frightens me. For years now, I’ve thought that I wanted to see other places. I’ve wanted to be like Randy the Vandal and travel all over. Meet new people. Have adventures. Be the person that people run out to meet when I return, laden with supplies. Now, when it comes time that I actually have to leave, I don’t like it.
I think about my room in the loft of our house. I think of Crystal and the kitchen, the people who I thought of as my family, the fields I’ve worked all my life, the animals I’ve helped care for, and I feel lonely already. Homesick. And I haven’t even left yet! I was safe here all my life. The Homestead took care of me and made me safe. Now that’s over and I don’t want it to be. Now I wonder why I ever wanted to leave.
But I have to leave, there’s no other alternative.
I look up to watch Eric shuffle toward the Land Rover. He makes a confused groan sound when he hits it. His head arcs up as one arm quivers. “Unh,” he says.
“I know how you feel,” I tell him. “Life’s a bitch.”
37
I leave Eric in the Land Rover. This time I make sure all the doors are shut and the windows are rolled up. When I left him, he was just staring up at the ceiling. It was strange to guide him in. He doesn’t seem to understand anything about his surroundings, but he’s easy to guide. Just give him a little push and he does what you want. It’s strange though. Some muscles are tense and others are relaxed in ways that are very unnatural. It’s Eric’s body, but he’s not in there. I just hope he’s still in there somewhere. But I can’t think of that. I wrapped his coat around him tightly to keep him warm during the night and left him there.
When I get home, I’m so tired, I just want to sleep for a week. It’s not all bodily tired either. It’s like my heart is heavy and I want to hide from the world and rest. I haven’t had time to think about all the horrible things that have happened to me. I don’t even know if I will ever have the strength to think about it. All that death and horror, it’s just lined up inside me, waiting for the chance to disable me, to make me so sad that I can’t do anything. And I can’t afford that. I have to ignore it all. And that takes effort. I think that’s why I’m so tired.
When I open the door, I see it’s not going to be that simple. Franky and Norman are there, sitting at my table. Obviously, they were waiting for me. My first reaction is anger. I don’t remember anyone ever coming inside our house without an invitation when Eric was here. Never. But for me? Oh yeah, come on in boys! Make yourself at home. For an instant, I try to hide my anger, but then I remember that I’m supposed to be angry—at Eric. I can use it. I’ve still got some work to do before I can hit the pillow.
“What do you want?” I ask bitingly, taking off my coat.
“We were waiting outside,” Norman explains apologetically. “But it got cold. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Where’ve you been?” Franky asks. No apology from him. I shrug and look around the house as I hang up my coat. I do it without moving my head to make sure they don’t think I’m doing what I’m doing, which is trying to figure out what they’ve been doing in my house while I’m gone. It’s not hard to see that they didn’t come in here just for warmth. There’s little things out of place. I’m glad I hid Eric’s backpack before I left. That might have saved his life. They’ve been looking around.
“We’re worried about you, Kestrel,” Norman says. “It’s not good for you to be spending all day in the woods. Not now. We need to be together.” I look at him. He seems genuine, but out of the corner of my eye, I can see Franky studying me. Franky’s got other motives, but Norman is here because he’s concerned. At least that’s what he’s been convinced of. “You know,” Norman continues. “Everyone is here for you. You don’t have to be alone.”
“We need to see you,” Franky says. I look toward him. He’s leaning back in his chair with his legs crossed. He’s shaved recently, which is new. Franky was never the kind of person to worry about his shave. His clothes are new too. He’s dressing the part. The leader. I don’t really care if he wants to be the leader, but I see in his eyes that I’m part of his plan and I’m messing it up for him.
“I’m just pissed off right now,” I say. “No one needs to see that.”
“We all need each other right now,” Norman offers. I glance his way. I’ve never known Norman to be so sentimental. Actually, I’ve never known him to be sentimental at all, but I guess losing half of the Homestead in just a few days will do that to a person. Norman sighs. “Look,” he says. “We don’t want to bother you, Kestrel. We just want you to know that we’re here for you.” He gets up, and at first I think he’s going to try to hug me or something, but instead he turns toward the door. “We’ll let you be,” he finishes and walks toward the door.
“I’ll be right there,” Franky says. Norman turns toward him and nods and then smiles sadly at me before putting his hat on and stepping out the door. When he shuts it behind him, it makes a hollow sound. After a moment of silence, Franky clears his throat. “Have a seat,” he says. It sounds like an order. I feel my eyes narrow. I don’t like to be ordered around. Not even Eric ordered me around. But I don’t want to start anything with him. I got plans, and the last thing I need is some stupid confrontation with Franky to complicate it. I can’t let my emotions get the better of me. I have to think. So I sit down.
Franky takes a deep breath and studies me. I study him back. The atmosphere in the room has changed completely since Norman left. I realize I’m smarter than him and it relaxes me. But what sickens me is how different Franky is now than he was before. He has this know-it-all kind of aura about him. It’s like seeing him shining through all the fog, like he’s revealed himself. And it’s not pleasant.
“Look,” he says to me after a while. I think it’s supposed to be a parental voice. “I’m going to be honest with you. You’re a smart girl, you can handle the truth.” He uncrosses his legs and then leans toward me. “People here, everyone looked up to Eric. He started this place, he kept it going. He made people feel safe somehow.” He smiled as if the people he were talking about were stupid. “Now he’s gone and people are scared. They feel lost. What they need is continuity. Do you know what that means, Kestrel?”
Of course I know what it means, asshole.
But that’s not what I say.
I just nod.
“You see, in ancient times, when the old king died, sometimes the new king would marry the queen. Or the princess. Just to make people comfortable. Just to give them a sense of continuity.” He lets this soak in for a second. I don't say anything. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“You want to marry me?” I ask, purposefully stupid.
Franky laughs. “No, Kestrel, I don’t,” he says. But I detect a sparkle somewhere in his eye. I think of all his attention toward me a lot differently now, and it makes me want to shudder. “But if we’re seen together, people will feel that sense of continuity. They will feel more secure. All you have to do is be here, with me. Not out in the woods, sulking like a little girl. You’re going to have to grow up pretty fast now, okay?”