Days Since...: Jenny: Day 986

Chapter Nine

Smoke billowed from a chimney—the fireplace providing warmth and refuge from the cold outside. Jealous, but not stupid enough to follow suit, Jenny shivered in a vacant house across the street, surveilling the porch where two Second Alliance Guards stood watch. How the hell’s the S.A. made it this far? That’s basic stuff right there. Don’t give your position away. “Right, boy?” she whispered, turning her attention from the window. She heard the bed’s comforter rustle but couldn’t make out much more than that in the shadowy upstairs bedroom. All she knew was he’d claimed the bed already and lay somewhere sprawled out across it. “Rest up. You’ve earned it.”

At the window, she sat wrapped in a blanket she’d found in one of the back room closets and considered grabbing another one. The single blanket proved insufficient with every gust of wind sneaking through the slightly opened window. Unfortunately, closing it wasn’t an option. During the Guards’ first shift change, she took her first and only attempt. It squeaked something fierce, then refused to budge any further. Luckily, anyone who could’ve heard her mistake was inside at the time and unable to. Now, the only sound coming from her position was the gentle clacking of the blinds against the wooden frame.

Diligently, she studied their movements, their habits, trying to establish a pattern, but more importantly, a true count of Second Alliance personnel standing in her way. But even with the burning fireplace helping to illuminate the muted figures passing by the front window, Jenny’s confidence in her mental tally was weak—each of them in uniform—all fairly the same build.

She sighed. So, maybe three in the front room, well, if those are even the same people every time. I know Matt and Grant are there too, but I really doubt they’re up walking around. They’re probably stuffed in a back room or something with another S.A. Guard watching them. So… let’s assume four inside. And with the two on the porch, maybe six of them total? I don’t know. There still might be others. Once that sun goes down, I’ll be free to move around a lot easier and hopefully get a better count. For now though, I keep watching, gather as much info as I can.

After another hour of surveillance, the shadows began to lay long across the snow. The black uniforms of the Guards holding post across the street began to blend in with the nightfall. She placed her chair closer and rested her chin on the windowsill between two empty cans from a meal eaten earlier.

Little else happened. Another shift change passed—the extent of the action. Her eyes grew heavy with boredom, with watching nothing.

“What’s the matter, kiddo?”

“Nothing… Just trying to get my work done.”

“Come on, Jenny… You’ve been in a funk for over two weeks now. I tried giving you some time to work it out, but I’m missing my buddy.”

“Dan—”

“You remember my buddy, right? This peppy, energetic girl that got here maybe a month ago, you know the one, she used to come around and play with Sherman all the time. You haven’t seen her around, have you?”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Not even a smile?”

“I just wanna get my work done, so I can go to sleep.”

“That’s all you do anymore.”

“I guess I’ve been tired.”

“Too tired to eat?”

“I eat… not that it’s any of your business.”

“So? What? I can’t be worried about you?”

“You can do whatever you want.”

“Quit playing like this. Something happened, and I want to know what it is. I want to help you, but I can’t if you just shut me out like this. Everyone knows everything about everyone. This place is too small to hide anything.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Did someone do something to you?”

“No.”

“Matt or Grant?”

“Hell no. They’d never do anything to me like that.”

“Like what, Jenny?”

“Nothing. I didn’t mean to…”

“I didn’t come here to fight. I’m sorry, just worried about you, kiddo. I actually came here to try and cheer you up. Kinda failed, huh?…Well anyways, the—the good news is I ended up talking to Griffin.”

“Wha— Why? Why’d you do that? He’s got nothing to do—”

“Here, calm down. He came to me, told me Derrick wanted a break from scouting and asked who I wanted to replace him with. Asked me if I had anyone in mind. And, seeing how you’re a natural with Sherman and eager to learn, I brought your name up. Said he was good with it.”

“Really? You’re not messing with me?”

“There’s that smile… And no, I’m not messing with you. You start tomorrow if you want.”

“I do.”

“We’ll be training everyday away from the Depot, so you’d better get used to being out in the world. But don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you. All I ask is that you never give up. No matter how hard it gets. You earn my trust like that, and I’ll protect you with my life.”

“I’m not asking for all that.”

“You don’t have to. Just get the job done, and we’ll be square.”

Her eyelids jerked open. Shit! How long have I been out? Peering through the window, it seemed nothing had changed across the street. The fire still burned. Silhouettes in the house, on the porch. She tossed the blanket to the floor and stood, wobbly from her doze. A quick touch to the rifle leaning against the wall, to the pistol resting in her leg holster. Everything’s okay. You gotta be better than that though. Can’t afford to doze off like that. You owe him. Danny said to get the damn job done, and we’ll be square.

Light snoring interrupted her thoughts. “Sherman,” she whispered.

Not a stir.

“Sherman.” She tried to raise him several more times. Still no use. Guess I’ll have to go wake him up. She felt her way through the dark, both hands outstretched, shuffling her feet across the carpet. Night had fallen hard upon the street, leaving the room’s layout to her imagination. Overestimating the distance to the bed, she knocked against one of the posts, startling Sherman from his sleep. “Sorry, boy, but it’s almost time to get this going.”

She angled herself at the window, peering through the blinds once again. What the…? Now, it appeared only one Guard held post at the front door. In that brief moment of waking Sherman, she must’ve missed where his partner had slinked off to. Anxiously, she scanned the house, porch, street, the yard, trying to find him and allay her fear the Guard had slipped away—now, unaccounted for. Come on… where are you?

It wasn’t but a few seconds later, and the missing Guard stood from behind the porch’s railing. Her heart slowed. Briefly, something was said between the two of Guards, then the other man took to the porch, hands against the concrete, legs straight out behind him. A push-up contest? These guys think they’re on vacation…

With her patience wearing thin and her imagination churning on about what awaited Matt and Grant, she snatched the rucksack from the floor. “We got all the info we’re gonna get watching up here.” From inside the ruck, Jenny managed to locate the flashlight, a hunting knife, and water. In between gulps, she tested the flashlight underneath the blanket and drew the knife along the fabric—it tore through the edge without fail. She slung the rifle across her back after stuffing the flashlight and knife into a cargo pocket. The rucksack would remain in the house.

Jenny took hold of Sherman’s lead and coaxed him from the bed with a few light snaps of her fingers. “Let’s go, boy.” The two crept through the house, slow and steady through the darkness. Back through the bedroom. A hallway. Past several doors. Around the corner, then she released the lead. “Blieb.” The last thing I need is you falling down these stairs. She dabbed her foot against the first step, making sure it remained her first step down—one at a time would do.

Taking handfuls of the pine railing, she kept her eyes affixed to the front door at the landing. A sheer curtain drawn across the door’s full-frame window concerned her. That curtain isn’t shielding anything from the street. Or from that damn porch. Actually… She stopped herself midway down the flight. Hanging her head just over the banister, she bent her eyes down the hallway toward the back of the house. No backlight. It won’t be a problem. Her feet eased down the remaining steps. “Hier.” Sherman responded, and the two of them hustled through the back hallway and outside.

The air stung against her face. She drew the kerchief high on her cheek bones and adjusted her sock hat, leaving only her eyes to suffer the bitter cold. She brought the pistol from its holster and kept the lead in her other hand. Sherman seemed indifferent to the conditions. He simply stood there, patient, waiting next to Jenny for the signal to advance. Which way? The kerchief absorbed her sigh as she studied her surroundings.

With the snow reflecting every measure of light from the gibbous moon, the backyards were relatively well-lit. To her right stood a stretch of chain-link fences which would prove difficult with Sherman. You weigh maybe, what—She patted against his side—seventy pounds? The idea of lifting the Belgian Malinois up and into each yard seemed impossible—a likely injury for at least one of them, if not both. The path to the left was longer but unhindered, so… Left it is. They trudged through the backyards toward the end of the block, taking care not to be seen, not to make a sound.

After rounding the last house in the row, they raced for the other side of the street. From this angle, Jenny observed an extra line of smoke rising from the backyard of the Second Alliance camp. Damn… So, we still have the two up front and the people inside, but now there’s probably another crew in the back. Great! This is way more than the four from earlier. Way more! I’m in over my head. I can’t take all of them on… She shook her head. Danny, what the fuck am I doing? What if Matt and Grant aren’t even here? What if they already moved them? I gotta get closer.

“You have to wait here, buddy.” Jenny tucked the lead into one of his harness pockets. “It’ll only be a sec, then I’ll be back for you,” she whispered while switching out the pistol for the rifle. At least I’ll have a bit of range with this thing if I need it. She’d only managed a few steps before Sherman bounded through the snow after her. “Bleib!” she hissed. He whined in response and took closer to her. “Bleib! Stay!” Come on, boy. She knelt beside him, rustling his fur. I can’t risk it. I wasn’t expecting all this extra shit. You’re too loud. Just stay. “Please, Sherman.” She put a hand, palm out, toward him, trying to settle the eager canine as she backed away. “Bleib!”

The command finally seemed to take—his butt slowly sank into the snow. She turned from him, half expecting the crunch of his steps to follow, but none came. Good, boy.

With the rifle up and at the ready, Jenny took to the street just one block over from the Second Alliance camp to keep some distance between them and her movements. Please still be there guys. Slinking along the fronts of each home, she slid behind hedges, between abandoned cars, fled the gaps between the houses on her way back toward the middle of the block. So far, so good. She slowed, nearing the two pillars of smoke rising from the camp. Now, with only one yard away, Jenny edged along the side of the house and lifted the latch to a chain-link fence. A sharp clink and she stepped through, leaving the gate open behind her if she found escape necessary.

In front of her, the wavering light from a fire struggled through a stand of evergreens separating her yard from theirs. She plucked the pair of binoculars from her chest harness. No good. The branches, the trunks too thick. Every angle provided nothing but darkness and shadows. Disappointed, she replaced the binoculars then pressed her hands against her brow. This is it. All or nothing, right? Her stomach felt hollow. A painful familiarity. She lowered her kerchief, only to take a few breaths to calm herself, to prevent herself from succumbing to her nerves. I have to get closer. Have to! Twenty strides along the fence led Jenny right into the nest of evergreens at the back end of the yard.

From here, Jenny spotted two Guards, both warming their hands at a fire built within a wheelbarrow—their rifles leaned against it. This isn’t gonna be easy. She pulled her rifle up and into her shoulder, aiming it squarely at one of the Guards. This is crazy. Knowing a simple pull of the trigger could end him. That he’d never know what happened. His life would just be over. But really what use would it be? I can’t take out the whole camp by myself. Stay hidden and wait for the opportunity to find Matt and Grant and get them the hell out of here. She dropped the rifle to a low ready and moved closer to the fence. The Guards’ low grumblings grew into a conversation.

“Whew!” The smaller of the two rubbed his hands together. “Shit, man, how much longer ‘til we’re relieved and back inside.”

His counterpart flipped his wrist over toward the fire. “Looks like maybe fifteen minutes.” He scoffed. “If they’re even still awake.”

“If they’re late, even a minute, I’m gonna kick their asses.”

“Like hell you are…” They broke into a fit of laughter.

“Well, if that don’t work, I say we hand our two new friends our rifles and let them”—The smaller Guard thumbed back toward the house—“stand out here in the cold. Hell, they’re gonna be out here anyway…”

Must be talking about Matt and Grant. They’re still here. Jenny studied the house. Underneath the deck. The windows. The yard. Still unable to zero in on Matt and Grant, she continued to listen in, hoping for some clues.

“…Don’t think they’d run off at this point, doubt they’d know their way back. Probably be too scared to try headin’ home anyways.”

“Probably freeze to death.”

“Not sure Haverty would care if they did.”

“I’m not willing to test it.” The larger Guard shook his head. “With my luck, I’d be reassigned to guarding the moonshine camp. Heard the place changes a man in no time.”

“Probably from getting blitzed out of their minds, then having to come back to reality once the tour’s over.”

“Doubt they’re drinkin’ it. They guard the shit like gold.”

“Gold ain’t shit anymore.”

“Damn it, you know what I mean.”

The two carried on with their conversation, and Jenny listened, shivering, nervous her trembling body would somehow alert them to her presence. Squatting down, she tried to preserve her body heat. At least the trees blocked some of the wind, but not enough to stop the numbness crawling from her toes and up her legs, prickling at her fingertips. Something’s gotta give here. Not sure how much longer I’m gonna be able to do this.

Some time passed.

“It been fifteen minutes yet?”

He checked his watch. “Nope. Twenty.”

“Shit, man, you fall asleep standing there?” The Guard scraped his rifle from the wheelbarrow and traipsed off toward the house.

His partner did the same. “Wait up. Who takes our place?”

“Not my problem.”

Monitoring their path to the house, she waited, sucking in quick breaths to prepare herself for the impending task—she couldn’t help her body from leaning closer to the fence, eager. Their long march up the back steps of the deck chipped away at Jenny’s patience. Maybe I should have shot them… Their voices carried, nonchalant, oblivious to her presence, her intentions. Hurry up! She readied her footing as the back door creaked open and the two finally disappeared into the house.

Within seconds an argument erupted inside.

Here’s my chance! Jenny bounded over the chain-link fence and stumbled forward, crashing against the base of a pine tree. Damn it! Flustered, she peeled herself from the ground and brushed the pine needles from her clothes. She took her rifle across the yard. Alone as far as she could tell. Cautiously, she padded over to the edge of the lawn. There!—Underneath the deck, nothing to distinguish between the night and the shadows—The perfect hiding place…

“Just get out there!” The argument continued to echo from inside the house, drowning out the crunch of her footsteps along the fence line. She couldn’t make out the other half of the yelling. All she knew was the two were growing louder, moving toward the back door. Fearing she’d be caught, Jenny scrambled underneath the deck—her first step sinking into a layer of gravel. The unexpected noise made her cringe.

“Back to back? Another shift? You gotta be shitting me!” His voice sounded as if it were right above her. Careful to remain unnoticed, she tiptoed into the shadows beneath the stairs, to wait, to listen. “Throw the boy in the rotation. He’s gotta damn rifle too, you know. If he’s supposed to be a scout someday, he’s gotta start learning. There’s no better time than now.”

A crunch of gravel, but not her feet. Jenny whipped her head around—only the night behind her as far as she could tell. She retreated from the stairs, feeling along the brick to guide her feet toward the noise.

“You expect me to send him out there alone?”

“He ain’t scared. Gonna be a scout, right kid?” he continued to argue.

“En. E.” A struggling voice came from the darkness—each syllable sounded as if forced through a gag.

The pounding of her heart shot into her throat. What the… She inched the muzzle of the rifle toward the voice underneath the deck. The struggling voice rose with panic.

“Grant…? Matt…?” she whispered.

The struggling voice sounded in agreement.

The deck creaked—a pair of boots now above her.

“See, he’s got this. It’s time to get out of the house, kid.” Another set of boots stepped out. “Now without Mommy and Daddy around to protect you, you’ll finally get a taste of what it’s like to earn your keep. How you like that, huh?”

Jenny didn’t hear a response.

“Nothing? Spoiled—”

“I’m not above doing anything.”

“Well then listen up cause you’re only getting the spiel once. Both the prisoners are here below the deck. All you have to do is make sure they’re still breathing every once and awhile. The rest of the time, warm up by the fire and shoot anything that moves out there. Pretty simple, so don’t fuck it up.”

“And how long’s the shift?” the scout asked.

I know I know that voice… She racked her brain. One of the Guards from River’s Edge? It’s gotta be…

“We’ll get you when your time’s up.”

“Alright…”

“Oh, and make sure you throw a couple more logs on the fire. You’re gonna need it. That woodpile’s back by the fence. Last thing I need is to find you out here dead and frozen to the ground.”

The back door slammed shut.

Each step crackled as the scout descended into the yard. Jenny kept the rifle’s muzzle trained on the newcomer’s thin frame once he rounded the front end of the deck. Don’t do anything stupid, guy. I’m not losing my friends again. The scout stomped over to the wheelbarrow and leaned his rifle against it. Just leave us alone, and we’ll be on our way.

She let her rifle hang from its sling and backed up toward her friends, eyes forward, one of her hands grasping at the air behind her. A shoulder. Quickly, she knelt down, blindly feeling for what secured him in place. Around his wrists, she found a rope, maybe two, in an elaborate knot woven into some metal apparatus attached to the house. She stripped the gloves from her hands to feel along the rope binding the two wrists together. Holding them in place, Jenny exhaled before taking the knife from her cargo pocket. Don’t mess this up. Doing her best to distinguish flesh from fiber, she wriggled the blade into place. “Hold still,” she whispered and began to saw the rope, mindful not to yank the knife and slice into something unintended. It broke with a satisfying snap.

“Hey,” Matt whispered after removing his own gag. “Where the hell’s Danny?”

She stuffed her hand over his mouth—“Get Grant”—and handed him the knife before taking hold of the rifle again. To her left, Matt worked to free Grant while she fixed her attention back to the fire. Shit… She forced a lump down into her stomach. The wheelbarrow sat unattended. Taking hold of Matt’s coat, she gave a violent shake to get his attention back to the yard.

“Wha—” he tried.

Another shake.

They sat in silence, neither breathing—her rifle pointed toward the glow of the fire. Failure filled her mind, defeat, anticipating their capture. Then, the crunching of snow in the distance allowed them to breathe once again. The scout plodded toward the wheelbarrow with stacked firewood cradled in his arms. Lazily, he dumped his load to the ground, allowing the firelight to climb his chest, to illuminate his face, his dark framed glasses.

Jenny’s heart dropped.

In a trance, she took a step toward the scout.

Xavier… Her eyes honed in on his face, discerning its features. It can’t be, but… No, he’s dead. It can’t. Tears formed within her eyes, blurring the sight of this cruel joke her mind played with her. She swiped the tears from her face. Even after, it was Xavier that stood there feeding the fire, warming his hands. But in a Second Alliance uniform. It couldn’t be him. To be sure, she forced another step. Someone grabbed her from behind.

“Is that…?” Matt whispered, still clutching Jenny’s coat.

She ignored him, her eyes remained on Xavier, watching him as he pulled a few logs from the snow and stacked them neatly on top of the fire. I know it’s him. Without a doubt. “Xavier,” she said, quiet, but forceful. His head lifted, searching across the top of the deck. “It’s me. Jenny.”

“Jenny…? Where the hell—”

“Shush! Under the deck.” Jenny and Matt crept toward the yard.

Xavier leaned forward to see. “Is it really you?”

“Yes, really.”

“Matt and Grant, too,” Matt butted in.

“Man…” Xavier’s voice broke. It took everything inside her not to break down with him. “How the hell did—”

The back door creaked open. “Who you out here talking to?” one of the Guards asked, his footsteps crossing the deck.

“No one.” Xavier’s voice quivered. “Nothing. Just… I’m just singing.”

“Well cut that shit out. No one wants to hear it.” His hand scraped across the deck’s railing, plowing a stretch of snow onto the ground. A few clumps fell just beyond Jenny and Matt’s boots. “Thomas wants them checked on. They causing any trouble down there?”

“No.” Xavier made toward the bottom of the deck’s staircase. “I checked them like five minutes ago. Everything’s good. They’re sleeping. Ropes are good.”

“How the hell they sleeping down there? I gotta see this.”

He’s coming. Shit!

“You guys made it sound like it was a long march.” Xavier caught the Guard a few steps from the bottom of the flight. “Probably exhausted.”

“Pussies.” The Guard chuckled.

“You need me to do anything else?”

“Quit singing and get the fuck out of my way, small fry.”

“Thomas put me on watch,” Xavier tried.

“Don’t give a shit. It’s my ass if anything happens to them.”

Through the gaps in the open stairs, she watched the Guard brush past him. Her heart sank. Silently, she slid her pistol from its holster and handed it to Matt before taking the rifle into her shoulder, steadying it toward the Guard.

“Hey!” Another voice rang out from the back door. “If the kid’s got watch, then the kid’s got watch. He’s not gonna learn any other way, right? Wasn’t that what you said?”

“Yeah, I said that, so what?” The Guard spoke from only fifteen feet away from Jenny.

Go Away. Go away. Please go away.

“Well, how about this? If you’re so concerned, why don’t you stay out there with him?”

“Point taken.”

Each thud of the Guard’s ascending boots loosened the suffocating grip from Jenny’s chest.

“You wanted your chance, so don’t fuck it up, kid. I’ll be back to check on you in a couple hours. Don’t die out here.”

“Yes, sir.”

The door snapped shut.

Matt broke away to finish freeing Grant.

Jenny watched Xavier retreat from the stairs and back to the wheelbarrow to grab his rifle. That uniform… I don’t understand. Why are you with them? Why are you wearing that thing? A million more questions swarmed her mind, but she had to suppress them. There would be a time for that, but it certainly wasn’t now.

Xavier’s approach seemed to take forever, but finally he stood before her. She reached trembling fingers toward him, toward the kid risen from death. Her hand wouldn’t budge—something about the uniform prevented her. Are you still Xavier? Or aren’t you? Before she could convince herself either way, she felt his embrace, his body crashing into hers, then all around she was smothered. Each friend came together, squeezing one another.

“We gotta—” Jenny struggled for air. “We gotta go, guys. Now.”

The four of them snuck off to the far end of the yard, then bolted along the path Jenny had worn in the snow earlier, back to where she’d left Sherman.

Pawprints circled the yard, but no dog. She could see the anxiety in his pacing, his lack of direction. Where are you, boy? His absence placed a sickness in her stomach. Afraid she’d lost him, her eyes darted across the snow, winding along his tracks—no telling where he could be. Hesitant, but without a choice, she broke the stillness of the night with a hushed plea. “Sherman! Hier!”

“Who?” Xavier asked from beside her, bent over, catching his breath.

“Hier!” she called again, ignoring him.

“Where’s Danny?” Matt asked. “Seriously, Jenny, we’re gonna need him.”

She pushed the truth down. Away from her mind. “Hier!”

“What’s the plan?” Xavier tried for her attention again.

“We get out of here, that’s it, that’s all I got,” Jenny snapped, still somewhat suspicious of him in that uniform. “The plan was to get Matt and Grant. I’ll guess you’ll do too.”

“Why’d you—”

“Shush.” In the distance, a rustling caught her attention. “Sherman?” The tramping of snow approached at what sounded like a gallop. His body came into view. An exhale of relief. “You had me scared, boy.” She buried herself within his side for only a moment. “Alright,”—she stood—“we gotta get my shit out of a house over this way, then back to the Depot. At least there, we have a chance against the S.A.”

They had put some serious distance between them and the Second Alliance. But the entire time, Jenny’s suspicion had grown, gotten the best of her along the way. “Then who was it?” she continued to tear into Xavier, her brow pinched with thought, unsure of who she spoke with—friend or foe. Etched in her mind, relived more times than she dared count, was the moment the Second Alliance swung Xavier’s body from the scaffolding—his legs flailing, his struggling.

Not until now did she know it wasn’t him, not the one that died hanging in the courtyard of River’s Edge. Here, he walked in enemy’s clothing. Held the enemy’s weapon. Too much unanswered or made little sense. “No one else was missing except you and Sam. The guy they killed instead of you…” She stared at him without speaking for several paces. “Obviously, it wasn’t you, but we all thought… We all thought it was. Who? Who did they kill to hide you? Get rid of you?”

“It’s complicated,” Xavier mumbled, pulling at the bottom of his black Second Alliance coat. He looked over to her but offered nothing further.

Jenny rolled her eyes. “I’m sure it is.”

Xavier’s legs seemed less eager now with Jenny’s questioning. His pace slowed—anxiety and uncertainty worn like a mask. She couldn’t help but wonder what was hidden behind it. Something worse? That damn uniform. “Xavier.” Turning toward him, she continued bluntly, “You need to tell us what the hell’s going on?”

Xavier’s gaze fell. He stopped walking.

Jenny stood, her mistrust looming over him. “None of this makes sense.” Her voice bordered on yelling. “The S.A. fakes your death, going through an elaborate scheme to do it by killing someone else. Then—Then, you show up in their uniform like you’ve forgotten everything you “died” for.” Jenny supplied the air quotes along with the sarcasm. “Do you even remember what the hell they did to us? To you? To Grant? To Sam?”

“I didn’t forget!” Xavier rattled back. “Not at all. If I had, I wouldn’t be here with you on this miserable march to wherever the hell you’re taking us.”

She bore down on him with her eyes. “What? You don’t trust me?”

He blinked and shook his head. “What are you talking about? Of course, I trust you guys, I left everything for you. The letter. The journal. I trusted both of you to continue the fight.”

“At least some of us are still fighting.”

“What the hell’s wrong with you, Jenny!” Grant interrupted. “Xavier’s back from the dead and you’re actin’ like you want to put him in another grave. We’ve all been through enough. Quit this.”

From the corner of her eye, Jenny caught Grant’s glare bouncing between her and Xavier. Grant’s right, but still… “We deserve to know the truth.”

Grant licked his lips. “Let’s worry ‘bout gettin’ home for now. Put this behind us until later. Lot’s happened and emotion’s high. Nobody needin’ to say somethin’ they can’t take back.”

“No, she’s right, you guys deserve to know.” Xavier exhaled, sending a long waft of breath into the air. “It’s probably better to get this all out now rather than wait.” He gritted his teeth, jaw flaring while he searched for the words. His eyes tore past Jenny to Grant and stayed there. “Dad found my mom. Alive.”

Grant offered a soft smile. “I knew he’d find her.”

Xavier nodded. “I appreciate that, but it’s no coincidence that’s when things started to go to shit for us. Took him awhile to find her even though she’d been only, what, six miles away from River’s Edge? It was maybe a week or two before we had our trip with Simon that he found her.”

Grant’s brow furrowed.

“He found her with the Second Alliance. My mom started the S.A. Or, I mean, not only her, it’s not like she’s in charge, but,” he stammered, “she’s been there since the beginning. And when my dad finally found her, they sent for me, for us. That’s why we were going to the Capital. But of course, we never made it. It all fell apart with Simon and the letter.”

“If your mom’s so high up,” Jenny said, “why the hell did Haverty have you locked up like that?”

“He got his.” Xavier smirked. “Mom saw to that. Haverty said he didn’t know, but he did. He was just pissed off I found his letter and wouldn’t tell him where it was.”

“Do your parents know about everything that happened there?”

“They don’t believe me.” Xavier turned to Jenny—her jaw hung by a thread. “No one would if their whole experience is the S.A. Capital. The Capital’s a whole other—”

“What the hell, Xavier? Are you even trying anymore, or did you give up?”

“I promise you I haven’t changed. I still hate the S.A. Nothing’s different.” Xavier’s chin dipped into his chest. “It really is complicated… I don’t think my mom really knows what’s going on. Dad certainly doesn’t. He had his doubts about them, but never saw it firsthand. The S.A. keeps them— I don’t know… Out of the loop, I guess.”

“I’m not buying it.” She stepped closer to Xavier, and her gloved finger pecked at his chest. “There’s no way they don’t know.”

Xavier swatted her finger away. “My parents would never, never allow any of the bullshit to happen if they knew.”

The conviction in his statement burned Jenny’s ears. I want to believe you, but I can’t right now. You’re hiding something. I just don’t know what it is yet. Drawing in a deep breath, she told him, “You’ll have to prove yourself.”

He turned from her and kicked through the snow with his head down. Matt took to his side. Jenny went to follow, but Grant grabbed her by the arm, holding her there so Xavier could escape for the moment.

“He’s not telling us everything.” Jenny snatched her elbow loose but stayed put.

“He’s not the only one.” Grant’s forehead wrinkled with the rise in his eyebrows. “You’re not say—”

“Hard to trust him when he’s one of them.”

“Hard for him to feel welcome when you treatin’ him like this.”

Jenny didn’t respond.

“This is Xavier we’re talkin’ ‘bout. What’s he got to hide from us?”

“He’s in that uniform.”

“He found his mom and dad. What wouldn’t you do to get your parents back?”

“That might be the point…”

“I can’t believe you’re sayin’ that ‘bout him. I know him, if you don’t, that’s your problem. I know if there’s anything else to tell, he will. Just quit bein’ so hard on him. Let’s focus on gettin’ back to the Depot and sortin’ through this mess later. No sense in fightin’ ourselves. S.A.’s comin’ for us, not Xavier. Can we least agree on that?”

Jenny nodded but kept her eyes forward. “Sure…” Curling Sherman’s lead within her hand a few more times, she took out the slack, placing him closer to her. “Good, boy.” She petted him along his side. Maybe I’m wrong… No way the S.A. knew I was coming for Matt and Grant. Doesn’t even seem like Xavier knew they had been taken in the first place. They didn’t let him know anything.

“If this ain’t the time, sorry, but…” Grant waved his hand in front of Jenny’s face. “You here?”

Her eyes went to his for only a second—“What?”—then returned to her friends’ slow march into the distance.

“Jenny…” Grant raked his teeth across his bottom lip. “Why you have Sherman? Why the hell Danny send you out by yourself?”

She thought for a moment, considering the truth as an answer, but couldn’t bring herself to let it go. “You’ll have to ask him. I can’t explain why he does what he does.”

“That don’t make no sense. Somethin’ bad happen?”

“Not that I know.” The lie slid down the back of her throat, sickening every inch of her body on the way down. Clenching her teeth, she mustered everything inside her to keep her eyes from welling up, but it surfaced anyway. Damn it. Not now. She stormed off. Grant followed, unknowingly walking through her tears.