It wasn’t the first time she had said those words. They always made his skin crawl. He did a mental recap of her prison, recalling every facet of the security he had integrated while she had been tied up for those two days last year. His OCD demanded the review. Going back over everything he had done to keep him safe from Lizzy made him feel better.
He knew what she was capable of.
“I’ll be back at dinner,” he said, and turned to go.
“Nothing warm for lunch today?” The musical voice was petulant now, a complete affectation. Lizzy didn’t give a rat’s ass about food. It was fuel for her body and nothing more. Eating a cold MRE for lunch wouldn’t bother her in the slightest. It was just another way to taunt him.
He didn’t respond. His spreadsheet told him she had three more days’ worth of lunch MREs still stored in her quarters.
He turned the corner of the corridor leading away from Lizzy, contemplating the ten hours until dinner time. Nine would be filled with chores, leaving one hour for flying. The drone camera presented the perfect solution for a person like him to enjoy the great outdoors. And seeing through the eagle eyes of his Phantom made him feel less like a jailer shackled to a psychopath. Those moments spent soaring over the picturesque valleys, forests, and rivers of Smoky Mountain National Park made him feel free. Maybe today he would spot a cougar or a wild boar. He had almost given up on seeing any new people. Considering how it had worked out when he’d spotted Lizzy eight months ago, perhaps that was for the best. Three years after the plague, he doubted there were many humans left out there.
Chapter 3
Willadean
“Willa!” Serena Jo’s voice floated through the torn mosquito netting of the bedroom window. There was only the one bedroom in their house, and Willadean shared it with her mama and her twin brother.
She loved them both, but, lordy, sometimes she got tired of smelling their farts.
“Coming, mama!” she hollered back.
She returned her journal and pencil to their hiding place inside her lumpy mattress; she had slit the fabric near the corner that faced the wall. Did Mama know it was there? Maybe. Probably. She didn’t miss a damn thing. But so far, she hadn’t said anything about it. And Harlan wouldn’t, since he didn’t talk. He probably knew too, so she was careful about writing anything mean about either of them.
Just in case.
When she sprinted through the front door, she saw her brother and the other children gathered around the strange little man with the spiky hair and wiry crimson beard. When she’d handed him the fiddle yesterday, then listened to him play and heard his quick answers to Mama’s smart questions, she knew she had found someone worthy of her attention. He was clever, that one, and she had long grown tired of everyone else in Whitaker Holler. Even Cricket, sometimes. She figured this unusual fellow would provide plenty of material for the book she planned to write. Maybe she would make him her Main Character, or MC, as they were called in the literary world.
“Children, Mister Fergus will be your teacher for two hours every morning immediately after breakfast. I don’t have time to do it any longer and he’s qualified.”
“Will he teach us about astronomy, Miss Serena Jo? I have my grandpappy’s old compass. I think I figured out how to use it, but I could use some help. What about school on the weekends? Do we get the weekends off?” Cricket asked, gazing up at Willadean’s mama with adoring eyes. Her best friend had a crush on her mama, which was both hilarious and disgusting.
Serena Jo smiled. She was especially pretty when she did that. It made her look less inexorable. That was a word Willadean had discovered in one of the books they’d brought from Knoxville. It meant hell-bent-on. If there was anyone in the world who was inexorable, it was her mama.
“No weekends. Just Monday through Friday. Is everyone keeping up with your calendars? It’s important to track the passing of time.”
A dozen heads nodded.
Willadean had been tracking more than just the passing of time in her journal.
“Very good. It’s chilly this morning, so classes will be conducted inside the school house. Autumn has arrived.”
“What if it’s purdy outside, Miss Serena Jo?” Did Cricket even care where classes were held? Or was he just thinking of questions to ask so he could stare at her without looking creepy?
Willadean snickered. “That’s pretty, doofus.” She elbowed her way through the group, stopping a foot shy of their new teacher. She studied him. His sky-blue eyes twinkled with amusement. A grin appeared within the wiry beard. He had nice teeth.
He studied her right back for a few seconds, then said, “You must be Willadean.” His voice was deep for such a small man. “Your grandfather told me about you.”
“Pops has a penchant for tall tales. You know what penchant means? Don’t believe a word he says.”
Her grandfather’s familiar laughter sprang from somewhere in the distance. He was eavesdropping, as usual. He knew almost everything about almost everyone. She loved him with all her heart.
“He said you were sharp as a tack.”
“That’s no tall tale.”
A rumble of laughter sprang from the small, barrel chest. The trickster gods from one of her Neil Gaiman books probably laughed like that. She liked it, but she resolved to keep an eye on this one. There was a lot this Mister Fergus was holding back.
She could feel it.
***
“School weren’t too boring this morning,” Cricket said later.
They were on a treasure quest in the forest. Silent Harlan led the trio, as usual. As the
