Not a Drop to Drink

shoot. “And I can’t help but wonder what the people I shot looked like.”

Stebbs patted her knee. “We’ll leave it there.”

“There was a man on the road the other day,” Lynn said. “I meant to tell you when we came to your place, but what with you falling and . . .” She trailed off, unable to say “water witch” even in the privacy of her basement. “. . . uh, all the excitement, I forgot to tell you.”

“This man, did he pass by?” Stebbs watched her carefully.

“He did, and Lucy talked me out of killing him.”

“She’s a good influence.”

Lynn shoved his shoulder. “He said—”

“He said?” Stebbs eyebrows flew up in surprise. “You talked to this guy?”

“I did, and I’ll be done talking with you if I can’t get a word in edgewise,” Lynn said, pointing her finger at him while she spoke. Stebbs threw his hands up in surrender and she went on. “He said that he was turned out of his place, that men had come and taken what was his, right down to his shoes.”

Stebbs digested that information for a minute, eyes on Lucy and her innocent play. “He say whereabouts this happened?”

“To the east, but the men were in trucks. They could’ve come from anywhere.”

“So they’re rifling for supplies but have enough gasoline to travel to find them . . . that doesn’t feel quite right.”

Lynn shrugged. “It doesn’t, but I’m not trying to wrap my brain around it. I’m just going to shoot them, they come this way.”

“In their case, fire away,” Stebbs said, gaze still on Lucy, mouth grim.

Lynn looked at the little girl happily piping on her flute, oblivious to the threats that seemed to surround them. Dread bloomed in Lynn’s stomach, along with a fierce streak of protective rage that usually only surfaced when she thought of the pond. She shoved it down with effort and opened the pack Stebbs had handed her. There were two cans of green beans, a Mason jar of dried sweet corn, and a can of peaches.

“Peaches,” she said awkwardly. “I bet Neva’ll like that.”

“She’s doing better, that girl. Talking about starting a garden in the spring. I gave Eli a bow of mine and he’s a better shot than you’d have guessed. We won’t be carrying their weight for long.”

“Lucy says Neva’s mom is coming to find them.”

“Eli said as much, last time I was over to the stream.”

“He tell you how she was going to find them?”

“You mean the satellite maps?” Stebbs shrugged. “I figured people were still using those, yeah.”

“Stalactite maps, you mean,” Lynn said, using the word Lucy had so carefully pronounced whenever they talked about it.

“Uh . . .” Stebbs struggled to keep a straight face. “No, Lynn. Those are called ‘satellites,’ not ‘stalactites.’ Trust me on that one, kiddo. The little one must’ve gotten her head a bit muddled.”

Lynn flushed at her mistake and her irritation seeped into her words. “So you never thought to tell me something was watching us from the sky?”

“Well, now you know. And what are you going to do about it?”

Lynn tossed the rest of her coffee on the fire, where it hissed in the flame. “Nothing.”

“That’s right. There’s nothing you can do except worry about it and get yourself all worked up.”

“Still would’ve liked to have known,” she said sullenly. “If people in the city can see my pond without me being able to see them, I don’t much like it.”

Stebbs rolled his eyes. “Use your head for something other than aiming a rifle, Lynn. I know it’s hard for you to grasp how many people are in Entargo, but it’s thousands. Your pond could help maybe a hundred of them for a week and then it’d be all over. You’re only the one person—two now, I guess—so to you it’s a lifeline. To them it’d be a swallow. Same with my little well, if they could see it. We’re small fish, kiddo, and I’m glad of it.”

“Then why are they even looking?”

“Eli said his brother Bradley was part of a special team that did a little work on the side for private citizens. Only very few people know that the satellites are still running, or what they’re looking at. I’m bettin’ those people were important enough to have money, and a backup plan in case things in the city went bad. ’Cept in Bradley’s case he took what he was paid to find out and used it for himself once they knew Neva had an illegal baby growing inside her.”

“Eli tell you Neva’s mom is a doctor?”

“Yup. I wouldn’t mind meeting her.” Stebbs winced as he raised his still-swollen ankle and rested it on Lucy’s cot. “It’s better,” he said, “but I probably shouldn’t have tried walking over here yet.”

“So I think . . .” Lynn’s voice trailed off as she searched for words. “I think maybe I know part of what’s wrong with Neva. With her hurting, like you talked about.”

Stebbs laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back, watching Lynn closely. “Uh-huh?”

“Lucy said that some of the soldiers came and got Neva out of their cell after they arrested them, and when they brought her back she wouldn’t talk.”

“Uh-huh?”

“So I think they hurt her.”

“I’m sure they did,” Stebbs said, still watching Lynn’s face.

“So . . . what’d they do?”

“Your mom never told you much about men, did she?”

“Not much that was nice.”

Stebbs leaned forward and put his face in his hands. “Oh, Lord, that I should be the one having this conversation. Thanks a lot, Lauren.”

Minutes later, a red-faced Lynn was fighting through snow on her way to the stream. “Thanks a lot, Mother,” she muttered to herself. “That wasn’t embarrassing or anything.”

Her anger fueled her progress, and Lynn reached the little house by the stream before she’d fully recovered from Stebbs’ revelations. Eli was outside, awkwardly attempting to hang a deer by himself. He heard her approach before she hailed him, and turned with the deer still slung over his shoulder, giving her an awkward wave.

He was wearing an old pair of coveralls from Stebbs that would have been much too big for him at their first meeting, weeks ago. Now he filled them out, and the color in his face was as much from healthy exertion as the frigid air. She felt a rush in her veins that had nothing to do with the walk, but she stamped on it, the memory of what Stebbs had just told her too fresh in her mind to even meet Eli’s gaze.

“You’re doing that wrong,” Lynn greeted him.

“Hello to you too.”

She walked past him to the tree, inspecting the rope that he had slung over one of the lower branches. “This isn’t high enough, your deer isn’t going to be off the ground. You can field dress it on the ground and hang it after.”

“Field dress?”

“Just put it down,” Lynn said, and Eli gratefully dropped the animal. They knelt beside the body together. Lynn pulled out the arrow carefully, to avoid breaking the tip. “Nice shot,” she said.

“Thanks.” Eli took her first kind word as encouragement. “Stebbs has been working with me. It’s my first deer.”

“She’s a decent size. With just the two of you eating off her, you’re set for the winter.” Lynn rolled the doe onto her back. “Got a good knife?”

“Stebbs gave me one, yeah.”

“Well, get it.”

When Eli returned, knife in hand, she motioned to the backpack she’d brought with her. “That’s from Stebbs too, he sent you along some vegetables.”

“Thank him for me.”

“I will.”

They regarded each other uneasily over the dead doe’s belly. Lynn held out her hand for the knife. “Here, I’ll