“Hey boss,” Peter said, shuffling around the rock. “Everything okay? What’s wrong with Devin?”
“Fuck it all,” Devin grumbled, and Joe took that to mean he was starting to feel better. “It’s just a headache.”
“Something’s wrong with Devin?” Flix’s worried voice carried before he climbed over the rock and dropped down on the other side of Devin. Flix’s fingers bumped into Joe’s as he caressed Devin’s hair.
Joe snarled. He shoved Flix’s fingers out of the way and tightened the hold he had on Devin’s shoulders.
“Better yet?” Aria asked.
“Somebody better tell me what the fuck is going on,” Flix snapped.
“It’s just a headache, Junior,” Devin repeated, only this time his voice had lost that rough edge. “And it’s going away. Can you all leave and let me sleep?” He crawled back between the sleeping bags and quickly began to snore.
Joe wanted to follow him, hold him and reassure himself Devin was okay. Instead he stood and rubbed his hands over his face.
Flix jumped on him instantly, but instead of the anger and accusations Joe had expected, Flix wrung his hands and bit his lip before saying, “He’s getting worse. It hurts him all the time. I don’t know if he’s told you. He didn’t want you to worry.”
Joe clenched his fists. Devin had said something to Flix first? “He should have told me right away. You should have told me.”
Flix stepped closer, and damned if he wasn’t taller than Joe now. “He says you act stupid when it comes to protecting him. That you’d want to fix something that probably can’t be fixed out here.”
Truth. Joe had done awful things to protect Devin, and though he was sorry he hadn’t been honest with Devin about them, he wasn’t sorry he’d done them, not even when it had cost a life. He’d do whatever he needed to keep Devin safe.
Flix sighed and moved to walk away.
Joe caught him by the arm. “You need to tell me whenever anyone here is keeping secrets from me. Our survival could depend on it.”
Flix moved into Joe’s space. “I’ll tell you if I think it’s something you need to know. Stop pissing on me because you’re jealous.”
Joe grabbed a fistful of Flix’s shirt. He twisted the rough fabric until it was taut across Flix’s chest, until his fingers burned from the tension. He pulled a little, drawing Flix closer, until Flix’s heart thumped against Joe’s fist.
“Why doesn’t one of you just pee a circle around him, mark your territory?” Aria said. “That’ll speed things along. Joe, I need a word.”
Joe blew out a slow breath and released Flix’s shirt. Why was he acting like this? This was Flix, who’d just lost his brother. “Sorry.”
Flix’s breath blew hard and hot in Joe’s face. “I know you’re trying to keep us safe.”
“Joe, let’s talk,” Aria said more insistently.
Joe patted Flix’s shoulder and followed Aria to the edge of their campsite. “How bad is it?”
“It isn’t weird that he’s still having headaches. The problem is they’re getting worse instead of better. I’m worried about his vision, too. That seems like more than a concussion would have caused. He needs real medical treatment from a doctor.”
“Okay, well, we’re only a few days away from Kansas City, maybe two if we push it.”
“No. You’re already pushing him, all of us, too hard. He needs to rest, maybe more than anything. The patches and pills will keep him comfortable, and we have enough for maybe two weeks. Stay here a little while. Let him sleep.”
“I’ll think about it.”
He walked over to Devin and lay beside him. As soon as Joe was flat on his back, Devin’s head clunked onto his chest and an arm wrapped around his waist. A leg followed, stretching across his own and pinning him to the earth.
He stroked Devin’s hair, smelled his sweat and the lingering fake-clean scent of the Mrs. Smith’s. He had to fix this. He couldn’t up the pace of their walking if that was part of what was worsening Devin’s condition, but if they stayed in one place, they risked inertia, and Joe couldn’t do that again. They should have left Purcell days before they had, as soon as Marcus could hobble even a short distance. But Joe had been weak, tethered by his need for comfort and family, his uncertainty about New America. Marcus had paid with his life. A day. Joe could give Devin that. One day to stay put, to sleep, and then a slower walk toward Kansas City.
Devin groaned and tightened his grip on Joe’s ribs.
Two weeks.
***
Joe noticed the odor as they walked between buildings on the outskirts of Old Kansas City. The path took them down a potholed road bathed in deep shadows slanting away in the early morning sunlight.
Two weeks past the Maze-On store, New America had been as desolate as Texas. A week ago, after Devin admitted the severity of his headaches, the group had veered off the main highway, onto roads that would get them to Kansas City, then on to Minneapolis, more quickly. And they’d seen no one. Every little town, every tucked-away factory, every dilapidated farmhouse as empty as the last.
As much as they’d tried to avoid people when they’d been south of the wall, Joe found himself hoping to find them here. Anyone. Someone to help Devin, to give them answers, to explain where New America was — the New America Joe had read about and dreamed about from the first day his father said he was leaving. This — ruined towns; parched fields; deserted, broken roads — wasn’t the proud nation he’d imagined.
His father had left him for this?
No. He’d left for the domes. And they were about to see their first one. Marvels. Miracles. The salvation of the planet. Clean air, plentiful water, moderate temperatures, protection from blizzards and hurricanes and tornadoes. That’s why his father had left — the dream
