In a Handful of Dust by Mindy McGinnis Page B

before putting the handgun in her belt.
    “You take it.” Lucy waved her hand. “You’ll be going into close quarters.”
    Lynn nodded. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
    “I’ve been exiled from my home. I have a blister before we’re out of the state. Yes, Lynn, I’m okay.”
    “Seriously, now.” Lynn frowned. “If you don’t want me to go, if you don’t want to be alone—”
    “I’m not scared of being alone,” Lucy said quickly.
    Lynn turned and loped down the hill to the gravel road they’d been following the day before. Farmhouses dotted the hills and overgrown fields that surrounded them. With luck, Lynn would find serviceable shoes in one that was close and be back before midday. Lucy tried to reassure herself that it wouldn’t be long, and that the empty sky above her hadn’t grown larger the second Lynn disappeared.

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Seven
    “L ucy . . . Lucy, wake up!”
    Rough hands were shaking her, and Lucy kicked out instinctively, sending the man reeling back. She flipped onto her belly and was crawling for the rifle before she recognized the voice saying her name. “Carter?” she said in disbelief, pulling herself off the ground.
    He nodded from the shade of the tree, his hand covering a bloody nose. “Good to see you again, I think,” he added, pulling his hand back from where she’d kicked him in the face.
    “Shit, I’m sorry.” She moved toward him, but he held up a bloody hand to stop her.
    “Don’t want to take any chances,” he said, backing away from her.
    She stopped, but it wasn’t easy. Her heart told her to go to him, but caution kept her rooted in place. “You still think it’s in you?”
    “I don’t know. I’ve been picking apart every little feeling I get now. Wondering if I’m tired from walking or just plain sick like Vera thinks. I can’t say for sure if it’s in me, but I’ve figured out what ain’t.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Whatever it takes to live. I don’t have it, Lucy.”
    The denial she’d been about to voice died on her lips when she took a good look at him. Carter’s hands were filthy, his wrists starting to thin out already due to hunger. The delicate skin around his mouth was bruised, fading to yellow at the corners. And he had no weapon, no backpack, no food.
    “Where’s your gun?” Lucy asked. “Where’s your stuff?”
    “Somebody bigger than me took it.” Carter sighed, his tongue poking at the bruise by his lip. “Along with some of my teeth.”
    “You were robbed?”
    “Didn’t take long,” he said. “I started out same day you guys did, going the other direction. I hear footsteps behind me about noon, I turn to see who it is, and next thing I know my face is on the road. I woke up awhile after, my face damn near boiling from the heat of it against me for so long.”
    Lucy cautiously knelt down beside him, and he turned his head to show her. Gravel pocked his cheek in spots, melted into the skin. She brushed at it without thinking, and he recoiled from her touch as much as from the pain.
    “You shouldn’t be near me.”
    She took his hand in her own even though she knew he was right. “If you believe that, why’d you come find me in the first place?”
    “To say good-bye, again, I guess.” He shrugged. “Which is plain stupid. We said it good and solid already. I’m just not ready to let you go yet.”
    “You’re not going to,” Lucy decided. “Follow us. Lynn doesn’t have to know. If you can reach Entargo, there’s people there that can test your blood, and if you’re clean, there’s no reason you can’t come with us to California.”
    “And if I’m not, they shoot me dead.”
    “Take the chance,” Lucy said. “What else is there?”
    “Nothing,” Carter agreed. “There’s nothing for me. I don’t have people like you do, Lucy. Vera and Stebbs, they’re positive it’s