Earth(12)

"It's been three weeks now."

I chewed at my lip. I supposed I could begin to forgive Micah for his absence. He was clearing our path to Shawn, making it safe for me and Bee – and giving me the tools I needed to defeat Shawn once I got there.

Still, I could use a good foot rub – like the one Alex gave Susan every night. I longed to be touched by Micah again, and even more so to laugh with him. I missed my partner.

I rubbed my temples, swallowing the hard lump fighting its way up my throat. "Well – you still want to come with us?"

Robert hesitated, looking back at his son. "What if we don't?"

"I'll take the women and kids anyway, along with whatever can be reaped from your gardens." We had plenty of canned food, but now I had an army to feed.

He looked at me sharply. "We'll starve come winter."

"Okay then – start packing up and let's get on the road," I said.

As the camp whirled into action, the women moving faster than the men, Alex stepped closer to me. "River."

"What?" I asked.

"Let's get on the river – not road."

"Oh, shut it." I pushed him toward the tents. "And go help. We're going to need more mosquito netting."





Chapter 9





No Rhythm





Fortunately, Robert's group had several kayaks and canoes, enough for the people and their supplies. Alex, Susan, Bee, and I stayed in our own canoe. I needed to get some of the women alone; none of them seemed to want to talk much, especially with Robert nearby.

Halfway through the second day with our new crew, Robert paddled up to me on his kayak. "We need to talk about supplies."

"What about them?" I pulled my oar out of the water, glancing up at him.

"They won't last us long; maybe another two weeks."

Alex continued to row behind me. "And who knows how many more we'll collect along the way."

"Maybe we need to be foraging – a little bit each day, and when we stop for the night."

Robert snorted, "I ain't no gatherer."

"So adapt." My words were clipped. "We've been doing it the past year and a half. How have you managed to get by?" I made a pointed glance at some the women in a canoe next to him.

He grumbled, but didn't answer.

I took a deep breath, backpedaling. It wouldn't do to chase Robert away now; or not yet, anyway.

"How will we know where Micah has people stationed?" I asked. "I'm sure they won't want to advertise who they are in case One Less comes their way."

Robert paddled deep twice, then rested his double oar in front of him. "He said there'll be signs you recognize. Oh, and the water filters. They were his design. Said to look for them along the path."

I looked over at another canoe holding two women, including Margie, and the bulk of the group's supplies. "Can you get me one?"

He nodded his head, slowed and angled his kayak over to the supply canoe. Why he wasn't in there with his wife, helping, was beyond me. He retrieved a water filter and paddled it back to me.

"Thanks." I looked at the contraption, turning it over in my hands before attempting to disassemble it. "Did he make these using your stuff or did he have these with him?"

"He had them with him. Said it came from another camp. But he showed us how to make them."

I'd seen several versions of water filters; they had quickly become the most essential personal item anyone could own. They ranged from complicated contraptions filled with rock, sand, and charcoal to a basic water filter of plastic bags suspended over pans of mucky water. It took forever for the condensation to drip off into smaller jars, but it was the purest way to retrieve water and it could be done from basically anything letting off condensation. Micah's seemed to be a combination of the two.

I dismantled the filter as Robert kept talking. "There will be Chakra Centers along the way; places that supposedly have an abundance of food and other resources. Wiccans teaching people how to live off the land or something."

I nodded, still inspecting the filter and shirking my navigational duties. Bee was doing a good enough job of that, pointing out every fish and rock she saw over the clear water. I searched the inside of the contraption, and each side of the material for a message. An 'I love you' or 'thinking of you' would have been enough. There was nothing.

I analyzed every small nick, scratch, and dent, piecing them together in my head, searching for a pattern. Still no luck.

"Kaitlyn," Susan said behind me. "Put it back together. I think his message to you is pretty clear."

"Yeah? What would that be?" I asked, with more bite in my voice than I intended. "Just keep paddling?"