In a Handful of Dust

Lucy took another tug of her water and held it out to Lynn. “You need a drink.”

“I’ve got my own.” Lynn waved her off and dug her bottle out of her pack, checking the water level inside before drinking.

“That your last bottle?”

“I got another.” She took a sparing sip and shaded her eyes against the glare of the sun. “We’ll be out of Iowa in a few days. Farther west we go, all these little springs the horses keep finding will be drying up.”

“Right,” Lucy said, eyeing Spatter as he cropped off grass with his teeth, flicking velvety ears when flies landed on him. “We won’t be able to keep the horses forever.”

“No, we won’t. But beyond that, since Joss took some of our bottles, we’ll be needing to replace them sooner rather than later. We can’t walk into the desert with four bottles between us.”

“We still all right on food?”

“We’re okay,” Lynn said. “This heat has been good and bad in that we’re not very hungry, so we’re not eating. But we’re not eating, so we’re wore out.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to get to Nebraska, find a nice out-of-the-way house that hasn’t been raided of everything useful, and rest for a few days.”

Lucy shot Lynn a sideways glance. “That sounds awfully optimistic of you.”

Lynn allowed a rare smile. “Well, that’s the happy version of what I want.”

“What’s the other one?”

“Get to Nebraska without dying or having to kill anybody.”

The heat refused to break, and the miles passed slowly. Spatter’s head sank lower as they moved westward, his interest piqued only by the smell of water. They filled their bottles at every chance, drank sparingly in between streams, and watched Iowa slip past them as they kicked up dust on unpaved roads. Lucy’s fine hair was coated with dirt, her scalp itching as layers of grime and sweat dried on it. Lynn’s own heavy mane was so thickly filled with dirt she would shake it out at the end of the day, creating her own dust storm.

It was too hot to talk, and the only thing to talk about was how hot they were, so Lucy kept her mouth shut and her hands busy putting tiny braids in Spatter’s mane as he followed Black Horse’s lead. The intricate braids held her attention, a convenient excuse to not look up at the all-encompassing nothing that surrounded them. The Mississippi was behind her, but it had been traded for the vastness of the prairie, a river of grass that seemed to have no end.

Looking at the endless road under the vast sky drove a spike into Lucy’s heart. She didn’t matter out here. At home she’d been loved by a few, and known by many. Away from there she could easily drown in a river, or lie down to die quietly in the waving grass, and no one would care. She’d be swallowed by the earth as easily as the rain.

Lynn stopped early one evening when they reached a stream. Her legs buckled from underneath her as she slid from the saddle.

“Lynn,” Lucy croaked, her voice dry in her throat. She jumped from Spatter to Lynn’s side, but the older woman was already waving her off.

“I’m fine, just tired and hot’s all.”

“We’re done for today,” Lucy decided.

Too tired to argue, Lynn only nodded. “Too hot,” she said weakly. Her face was pale underneath her tan.

“You need to cool off, right now,” Lucy said, masking her fear.

“I’ll rest here in the shade,” Lynn said. “You get the horses unsaddled.”

Lucy went to work, glad to have jobs that would distract her from the unfocused look of Lynn’s eyes and the pallor of her skin. The horses gathered around her, patiently waiting to be unburdened. She pulled the packs off Brown Horse and glanced at Lynn, whose eyes had slid shut.

She opened Lynn’s pack. It didn’t look like she’d touched her jerky since Indiana. The dried peas and corn were barely depleted, and the granola container was full. They’d been taking most of their meals on horseback, and it would’ve been easy for Lynn to look like she was eating, even if she wasn’t.

Lucy jammed everything back inside the pack and walked over to where Lynn was resting. She kicked Lynn’s foot. “You haven’t been eating.”

“I’m fine,” Lynn growled, without opening her eyes.

“You’re not,” Lucy argued. “You can’t get down off your horse without falling over.”

Lynn opened one eye and looked at Lucy, then closed it again.

“What’s your plan then?” Lucy felt her anger rising, all the heat her skin had absorbed coming back out of her in a rush. “Die of starvation halfway through so I’ve got plenty to eat?”

“The second part, mostly.”