We passed Doc。
“Hey； Doc；” Ian said。
“Ian。” Doc nodded。 In his hands was a big wad of dough。 His shirt was covered with dark； coarse flour。
“Morning； Jeb。 Morning； Wanda。”
“Morning；” Jeb answered。
“See you ’round；” Doc said； hurrying off with his burden。
“Wanda； huh？” Ian asked。
“My idea；” Jeb told him。 “Suits her； I think。”
“Interesting” was all Ian said。
We finally made it to the northeastern field； where my hopes were dashed。
There were more people here than there had been in the passageways—five women and nine men。 They
all stopped what they were doing and scowled； naturally。
“Pay ’em no mind；” Jeb murmured to me。
Jeb proceeded to follow his own advice； he went to a jumbled pile of tools against the closest wall；
shoved his gun through the strap at his waist； and grabbed a pick and two shovels。
I felt exposed； having him so far away。 Ian was just a step behind me—I could hear him breathing。 The
others in the room continued to glower； their tools still in their hands。 I didn’t miss the fact that the picks
and hoes that were breaking the earth could easily be used to break a body。 It seemed to me； in reading
a few of their expressions； that I wasn’t the only one with that idea。
Jeb came back and handed me a shovel。 I gripped the smooth； worn wooden handle； feeling its weight。
After seeing the bloodlust in the humans’ eyes； it was hard not to think of it as a weapon。 I didn’t like the
idea。 I doubted I could raise it as one； even to block a blow。
Jeb gave Ian the pick。 The sharp； blackened metal looked deadly in his hands。 It took all my willpower
not to skip out of range。
“Let’s take the back corner。”
At least Jeb took me to the least crowded spot in the long； sunny cave。 He had Ian pulverize the
hard…baked dirt ahead of us； while I flipped the clods over and he followed behind； crushing the chunks
into usable soil with the edge of his shovel。
Watching the sweat run down Ian’s fair skin—he’d removed his shirt after a few seconds in the dry
scorch of the mirror light—and hearing Jeb’s grunted breaths behind me； I could see that I had the
easiest job。 I wished I had something more difficult to do； something that would keep me from being
distracted by the movements of the other humans。 Their every motion had me cringing and flinching。
I couldn’t do Ian’s job—I didn’t have the thick arm and back muscles needed to really chew into the
hard soil。 But I decided to do what I could of Jeb’s； prechopping the clods into smaller bits before I
moved on。 It helped a little bit—kept my eyes busy and tired me out so that I had to concentrate on
making myself work。
Ian brought us water now and then。 There was a woman—short and fair； I’d seen her in the kitchen
yesterday—who seemed to have the job of bringing water to the others； but she ignored us。 Ian brought
enough for three every time。 I found his about…face in regard to me unsettling。 Was he really no longer
I was working hard enough to keep my eyes busy and my mind numb； I didn’t notice when we hit the
end of the last row。 I stopped only when Ian did。 He stretched； pulling the pick overhead with two hands
and popping his joints。 I shied away from the raised pick； but he didn’t see。 I realized that everyone else
had stopped； too。 I looked at the fresh…turned dirt； even across the entire floor； and realized that the field
was plete。
“Good work；” Jeb announced in a loud voice to the group。 “We’ll seed and water tomorrow。”
The room was filled with soft chatter and clanks as the tools were piled against the wall once more。
Some of the talk was casual； some was still tense because of me。 Ian held his hand out for my shovel；
and I handed it to him； feeling my already low mood sink right to the floor。 I had no doubt that I would
be included in Jeb’s “we。” Tomorrow would be just as hard as today。
I looked at Jeb mournfully； and he was smiling in my direction。 There was a smugness to his grin that
made me believe he knew what I was thinking—not only did he guess my disfort； but he was
enjoying it。
He winked at me； my crazy friend。 I realized again that this was the best to be expected from human
friendship。
“See you tomorrow； Wanda；” Ian called from across the room； and laughed to himself。
Everyone stared。
CHAPTER 24
Tolerated
It was true that I did not smell good。
I’d lost count of how many days I’d spent here—was it more than a week now？ more than two？—and
all of them sweating into the same clothes I’d worn on my disastrous desert trek。 So much salt had dried
into my cotton shirt that it was creased into rigid accordion wrinkles。 It used to be pale yellow； now it
was a splotchy； diseased…looking print in the same dark purple color as the cave floor。 My short hair was
crunchy and gritty； I could feel it standing out in wild tangles around my head； with a stiff crest on top；
like a cockatoo’s。 I hadn’t seen my face recently； but I imagined it in two shades of purple： cave…dirt
purple and healing…bruise purple。
So I could understand Jeb’s point—yes； I needed a bath。 And a change of clothes as well； to make the
bath worth the effort。 Jeb offered me some of Jamie’s clothes to wear while mine dried； but I didn’t want
to ruin Jamie’s few things by stretching them。 Thankfully； he didn’t try to offer me anything of Jared’s。 I
ended up with an old but clean flannel shirt of Jeb’s that had the sleeves ripped off； and a pair of faded；
holey cutoff sweatpants that had gone unclaimed for months。 These were draped over my arm—and a
bumpy mound of vile…smelling； loosely molded chunks that Jeb claimed was homemade cactus soap was
in my hand—as I followed Jeb to the room with the two rivers。
Again we were not alone； and again I was miserably disappointed that this was the case。 Three men and
one woman—the salt…and…pepper braid—were filling buckets with water from the smaller stream。 A loud
“We’ll just wait our turn；” Jeb told me。
He leaned against the wall。 I stood stiffly beside him； unfortably conscious of the four pairs of eyes
on me； though I kept my own on the dark hot spring rushing by underneath the porous floor。
After a short wait； three women exited the bathing room； their wet hair dripping down the backs of their
shirts—the athletic caramel…skinned woman； a young blonde I didn’t remember seeing before； and
Melanie’s cousin Sharon。 Their laughter stopped abruptly as soon as they caught sight of us。
“Afternoon； ladies；” Jeb said； touching his forehead as if it were the brim of a hat。
“Jeb；” the caramel woman acknowledged dryly。
Sharon and the other girl ignored us。
“Okay； Wanda；” he said when they’d passed。 “It’s all yours。”
I gave him a glum look； then made my way carefully into the black room。
I tried to remember how the floor went—I was sure I had a few feet before the edge of the water。 I
took off my shoes first； so that I could feel for the water with my toes。
It was just so dark。 I remembered the inky appearance of the pool—ripe with suggestions of what might
lurk beneath its opaque surface—and shuddered。 But the longer I waited； the longer I would have to be
here； so I put the clean clothes next to my shoes； kept the smelly soap； and shuffled forward carefully
until I found the lip of the pool。
The water was cool pared to the steamy air of the outer cavern。 It felt nice。 That didn’t keep me
from being terrified； but I could still appreciate the sensation。 It had been a long time since anything had
beencool。 Still fully dressed in my dirty clothes； I waded in waist deep。 I could feel the stream’s current
swirl around my ankles； hugging the rock。 I was glad the water was not stagnant—it would be upsetting
to sully it； filthy as I was； if that were the case。
I crouched down into the ink until I was immersed to my shoulders。 I ran the coarse soap over my
clothes； thinking this would be the easiest way to make sure they were clean。 Where the soap touched
my skin； it burned mildly。
I took off the soapy clothes and scrubbed them under the water。 Then I rinsed them again and again until
there was no way any of my sweat or tears could have survived； wrung them out； and laid them on the
floor beside where I thought my shoes were。
The soap burned more strongly against my bare skin； but the sting was bearable because it meant I
could be clean again。 When I was done lathering； my skin prickled everywhere and my scalp felt scalded。
It seemed as if the places where the bruises had formed were more sensitive than the rest of me—they
must still have been there。 I was happy to put the acidic soap on the rock floor and rinse my body again
and again； the way I had my clothes。
It was with a strange mingling of relief and regret that I sloshed my way out of the pool。 The water was
very pleasant； as was the feeling of clean； if prickling； skin。 But I’d had quite enough of the blindness and
Jeb laughed when I emerged； his eyes were on the soap in my cautious grasp。
“Smarts a bit； don’t it？ We�