In a Handful of Dust (Not a Drop to Drink #2)

“They still send out the cars,” Lynn said quietly. “Real normal like, on a schedule. They go out, and they come back with nothing to show for it. Two days ago one of the cars came back way early, with passengers. They picked up three men in the desert.”


Lucy shook her head. “I haven’t seen anybody new. I know every face around here, and Nora hasn’t said anything about having patients.”

“I doubt she does,” Lynn said. “They looked healthy enough to me. Nothing wrong with ’em but a bit of sunburn and a big thirst, I imagine.”

“So where are they?”

“That’s the question. I’m asking you to keep your eyes and ears open. And be careful.”

“Careful?” Lucy’s voice rose. “Who’s to say they didn’t let them walk out of here on account of them being men? Last thing we need is more mouths to feed.”

Lynn raised an eyebrow, an accusatory black line tented in the moonlight. “We?”

“Yes,” Lucy spat. “We. There’s no reason to think any harm was done to them, any more than’s been done to us.”

“Yeah,” Lynn said quietly, the word coming out harsh and ragged. “And what has been done to us?”

Tears sprouted in Lucy’s eyes, all the more painful for having been absent for so long. “Get out of here before I wake up Nora,” she said. “And don’t ask me to look for something to fight in every shadow that crosses the path. I don’t want to live like you.”

Lynn watched Lucy for a moment before rising, her renewed health evident in the hard lines of her body as she stood. “I didn’t want to live like me either, little one,” she said. And then she was gone.

Ben was at her door early the next morning, a fresh bundle of flags gripped to his chest.

“Really?” Lucy picked sleep from her eye as she stood in the doorway. “I thought today was the Let’s-Show-How-Smart-Ben-Is Day.”

“Oh, it is,” he said. “But work before pleasure, Dad says. Get dressed, he’s picking us up when everything is ready.” Lucy dressed quickly, and as the two of them marched out of the city she heard Lynn’s bullets flying overhead and wondered if the ghostly conversation from the night before had only been a dream. The sun soon burned away thoughts of anything except water, and Lucy’s stick pointed sure and true, as if her own limbs were suddenly clear of confusion.

“You’re confident today,” Ben said, as he placed a flag.

“I feel good,” Lucy admitted. “It helps.”

“You haven’t felt good before?”

“I was . . . unsure.”

“What changed?”

Lucy didn’t answer for a moment, thinking of Lynn’s stealthy conversation in the night, the heavy words weighted with dread. Whether it’d been a dream or not, it had solidified in Lucy that she didn’t want to live in fear and suspicion. Lander and Nora would never be Stebbs and Vera. But her affection for them would grow, and she would let it.

“Hello? Water monkey?”

“You, however, I will never like,” Lucy said aloud.

Ben shrugged. “Like me, not like me, whatever. After today you’ll respect me.”

Lucy ignored him, switching her stick over the dry dust in front of her. When the sound of the car engine cut through the air hours later, Lucy realized how lost in her own reverie she had been. Ben’s arms were empty, the sterile desert behind them populated by waving blue flags.

“Well done,” he said. “I’ve not seen you that involved before.”

The car pulled to a stop in front of them, sending a spray of dust into Lucy’s eyes. She shaded her face to see Lander emerging from behind the wheel, his shadow far outreaching either of theirs.

“Lucy.” He smiled at her, casting an arm behind them at the expansive waste littered with flags. “You worked hard today.”

“I did,” she said cautiously, still unsure of his smile.

“How about a break? Ben said you’ve made a decision to stay, and Nora agrees you’re ready to understand the importance of what you do for us here.”

“I couldn’t ever not understand the importance of water,” Lucy said as she slid into the backseat. “Whether it’s some I’ve found or not.”

“Maybe not,” Lander said as he drove, “but Ben thinks you should know exactly what’s at stake.”

Lucy thought of the endless desert, her tongue so swollen it stuck to the dry roof of her mouth, Lynn falling in her tracks and unable to rise. “I know what’s at stake.”

“Just enjoy the ride then, and you’ll see when we get there,” Lander said, his good nature uninhibited by the tartness of her response.

They crossed over the highway, the car bouncing as it made the transition from sand to asphalt and back to sand. Lucy took her backpack off and set it next to her on the seat, rummaging for the bottle of water. It tasted bad as ever, but she forced it down, determined that someday she would forget the cool sweetness of water from her own pond and be thankful for what she had.

A flash caught her eye on the horizon, and Lucy realized they were heading toward the same spot she had noticed weeks before, drawn to her attention by a similar wink of light.

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