Tears still streaming down his cheeks, Peter nodded, and Joe resumed work on Peter’s back. They had to move to a different spot in the barn when too many ants dropped to the ground. Getting the ants off took forever, but they eventually got rid of them all. Joe’s hands had swollen so much they were numb. Red, raised patches covered Peter’s body. Joe touched Peter’s chest and felt the flush of his skin. He needed medicine.
Joe glanced behind him. “Devin?”
A tube of antihistamine cream was shoved into Joe’s hand, and Devin coaxed Peter to open his mouth. He placed two pills on Peter’s tongue and held up the water jug so Peter could drink. “Marcus is rubbing Flix down now. I think he’s better off than Petey.”
Peter whimpered when Joe spread the cream over his shoulder. Every part of Peter needed covered, and Joe worried they’d waste all their antihistamine topical on this one event. How many more times would they run into fire ants or other pests on the way north? First the lack of food, now dwindling medical supplies. It meant they’d have to find people, have to bargain to get what they needed.
Joe hated the thought. Talking to people meant taking chances that they’d be caught by Boggs.
The strangers at the hospital had told him they’d gotten Devin’s photo from a drone that had dropped flyers from the sky. The reward Boggs offered for information was high: three weeks’ worth of food and water. How anyone would contact Boggs to collect, Joe had no idea.
Joe had weapons, guns and knives. His companions, except Peter, were fast and strong. But the same could be true of anyone. Joe couldn’t lose Devin, couldn’t go back.
“Hey.” Devin nudged Joe’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out.”
Joe knelt and swept his hands down Peter’s calves, spreading the cream as quickly as he could. “Let’s get them dressed, fed, rested, and ready to move.”
***
Devin hated being the group asshole. He should have helped with the fire ants last night, should’ve helped Joe drag Peter along the highway, should be the one inside this house checking for safety. But he wasn’t. Like always, he’d let Joe investigate while he stood outside with the kids, toeing the dirt and hoping Joe would be okay.
His head throbbed. The lack of food had him even more uncomfortable than the walking. He couldn’t decide which hurt worse, his stomach or his head. Blaming his behavior on hunger would be nice, but Joe was just as hungry. Sometimes Devin hated how unflappable Joe was.
The dust storm had mostly subsided, and Devin’s damned eyesight had almost returned to normal, so in the purple sunrise, he had no trouble picking out the house’s red brick, its tiny windows, the jagged crack running up the front big enough for him to stick his whole hand inside.
“Hey.” Marcus lightly punched Devin’s forearm.
Devin raised his brows.
Marcus yawned so hard his jaw cracked. “I had to take a break from my brother. He thinks he needs to tell me how to wipe my own ass.”
Devin glanced behind them. Flix and Peter had their bite-swollen faces together, talking in low voices. With their dark hair covering their eyes, they looked almost as much like twins as Flix and Marcus. Devin thumped Marcus’s shoulder. “What’s up with them?”
“Flix says Petey needs to suck it up and walk faster. Thinks, I don’t know, we’re gonna get hauled back to Austin. He’s scaring the kid.”
The rumble of Devin’s stomach checked his urge to laugh. “You know how old Peter is?”
Another shrug. “Fifteen?”
“Sounds about right. Aren’t you fifteen, too?”
“Almost sixteen.” Too much pride laced Marcus’s words. “Our birthday is the same as President Winter’s.”
No clue who that was. “Your mom must’ve been happy.”
Marcus shuffled and looked back at Flix. “Don’t know. She left us with our abuela. Our grandma.”
“Your mom never came back?”
A one-armed shrug. A flick of the eyes. “Dropped off a couple more kids. Boy and a girl. Keena and Paz. When she brought Paz, she told us she’d stay. I was four, maybe five. I don’t remember her. She stayed for a week. Left without saying goodbye. Flix says he woke up that last night, caught her stealing Abuela Carmen’s food. She smacked him across the face and split.” Marcus lifted his chin and met Devin’s eyes. “So anyway, Carmen raised us.”
Devin grunted. He’d sort of expected he and Joe had the most horrible stories, wore the most scars. “My parents died when I was five.”
Marcus nodded. “How’d you make it?”
This time, Devin was the one to look back at Flix. “I had a good brother.”
The battered wood door opened, and Joe poked his head out. “It’s empty. Come on.”
Inside, the front room was overwhelmed by a huge blue sofa. It sat on a gleaming wood floor and curved to take up two walls. Devin lunged for it, wanted to rest and maybe sleep off the headache, but Joe caught his hand and jerked him upright. “The kids can sleep here.” He nodded to Flix. “Cabinets and closets are empty. The doors have deadbolts and the windows lock and are shatter-proof, so we won’t even have to keep guard.”
“I want to sleep on the couch.” Devin didn’t care if he was being whiny. His ass was tired.
Joe kept a hold on Devin’s hand and led him across the space and into the kitchen. He turned a dial, and water flowed from the tap. “Marcus, get the jugs. Everyone drink up, then we’ll refill. If we’re lucky, we can refill again when we wake up and even take a shower. It’ll be cold, but clean’s clean.”
A shower sounded glorious. They’d washed up in well water a couple days ago, but that was mainly wetting their hands and rubbing their armpits, dicks, and ass cracks. With freezing water. Even though the water here would
