Devin snorted. Ahead of him, Peter turned. Devin motioned for him to turn around again and keep going. The kid had the rope in his hands, same as Devin, but he either wasn’t trying or was really weak. Devin glanced to his left and watched Joe and Flix drag their rope forward. They worked well together, and Devin swallowed a bit of jealousy.
He didn’t like that Joe and Flix had gone off together after he’d collapsed under the weight of Peter and Marcus. He trusted Joe. Nothing would happen between him and Flix. No matter how much Flix may want it, Joe wasn’t interested. Still, Devin was kind of pissed that he had to share.
As soon as he thought it, he felt guilty. Marcus was back there dying, and Devin was bitching because he wasn’t getting enough of his partner’s attention? Besides, Flix had been nice to him up on the highway in Dallas, before Marcus fell. He needed to remember that.
“Is that the town in front of the wall?” Flix asked. “We need to go faster.” The area around one of his eyes had swollen and turned purple. Had Joe done that?
No one answered him, but something town-like sat at the base of the wall, unfolding and coming into focus as they got closer. If it was the town, that wall had to be enormous, ten or twelve stories tall.
The town took shape as they approached. Too many buildings to count were spread out on either side of the highway. None of the places were large, and they all looked hastily constructed.
“This is a shantytown,” Joe said.
Devin made eye contact with Flix, and they both shrugged. Good. At least the little prick — Twin? Friend? Friend, yeah — didn’t know what Joe meant, either.
“Do you think this is Purcell?” Devin asked.
“I hope so.” Joe pointed. “I see people.”
Devin had to squint, and even then he couldn’t make out anything definite, but whatever the blobs were between the buildings, they were moving. Not as many people as they’d seen in Dallas, but still. This town was a lot smaller than Dallas. And these people were out during the day. The sun blistered unprotected skin. Maybe these people were covered.
A quake of apprehension worked its way through Devin. Joe had told him about the dead bodies back at that house. What if the killers lived here, in this town? Between the five of them, they had a decent amount of supplies — not enough, but more than many. The people in this town might not be friendly. Hating himself a little bit, Devin checked the positioning of the rifle on his back. What he’d done back in Dallas, threatening to shoot the person trading with Joe, terrified him. He didn’t want to be that kind of man. Right now, though, the gun bumping his shoulder blade reassured him.
“When we get there,” Joe said, “we need to ask for the doctor. He might be using a different name.”
“I thought you said it was a she?”
“She. He. Yes.”
Devin rolled his eyes. That cleared up nothing. Joe’s attention was fixed on the town, so Devin didn’t ask him to elaborate. He’d find out soon enough.
They neared the town, which was laid out in rows of buildings with wide dirt paths in between. It didn’t quite look like a real city — most of the buildings didn’t have windows, and the walls and roofs slanted at odd angles with mismatched wooden boards and metal sheets — but it looked like the people living there had tried to make it one.
The citizens out and about stopped and stared as Devin and his companions approached. About thirty yards away, a rail-thin man with a holstered gun stepped a few paces closer. Devin readied to reach for the rifle if the man made a move. Along the way north, they’d seen others with weapons, but Devin hadn’t gotten used to it. Any armed person could be dangerous, ready to steal from them or try to return them to Boggs.
Joe released the rope dragging the boat and marched, palms-up, to a woman and child.
A child! Marcus had said he had a little brother and sister, but except for baby Nina back at the Flats, Devin had never seen a child before. The little girl’s long black hair was braided, and her pudgy honey-gold face had gone slack as Joe approached.
Joe stopped when he got close enough so he wouldn’t have to shout to be heard. He kept his hands up. “Where is the doctor?”
The woman — she had to be the little girl’s mother, they looked so much alike — shook her head. “No inglès.”
The little girl tugged on her mother’s sleeve. She spoke rapidly in Spanish, and Joe’s shoulders relaxed. The mother nodded and motioned with her head before walking away. Joe jogged back, picked up the rope, and followed behind the woman.
“Joe?” Devin had no idea what was happening, but he hoped the woman knew where to go.
“Her daughter understood,” Joe explained without taking his eyes off the woman. “She translated for her mom, and now the mom’s going to take us to them, I think.”
“‘You think’?” Devin glanced over his shoulder and saw that the man with the gun was following them.
Joe huffed. “It’s not an exact science, papi, dealing with people. ‘I think’ is the best I can do right now. I’m pretty sure she’s not leading us to a boiling pot to eat us for dinner.”
The little girl turned toward Joe and laughed. “You’re funny.”
Joe didn’t look like he knew what to do with kids, either. His lips barely moved as he said, “Thanks.”
They passed rows and rows of buildings. Outside one, a woman whose dark brown skin was so wrinkled her cheeks hung below her chin scowled at Devin and muttered something under her breath. Devin wished he’d thought to cover his
