In a Handful of Dust

“That’s ’cause they started the IV over there yesterday,” Lucy said, trying to remember everything Nora had explained to her as she rolled her over to Lynn’s bedside. “Your veins were flat like… like a worm that’s been stepped on, you know? They switched over to this arm today, and had a little more luck.”

Lucy brushed her hand over the deep purple bruise that had formed in the crook of Lynn’s other elbow. “You relax for now. There’s no reason for you to be worried, or…” Lucy trailed off, searching for the right word. “Or scared,” she finished.

Lynn struggled to open both eyes and gave Lucy a brief glance before they slid shut again. “Why do you look scared then?”

Lucy tightened her grip on Lynn’s wrist. “You were so close, Lynn. You were damn close to dying.”

“Close to nothing,” Lynn said vehemently, though it cost her breath to do so. “You said I wasn’t allowed to die without you. I’m still here.”

Lucy’s throat closed in on itself, and she fought against the tears, not wanting Lynn to open her eyes again only to see her crying. “Yeah,” she said. “You are.”

“Where the hell is here?”

“It’s a city called Las Vegas.”

“Well,” Lynn muttered as she dropped back into unconsciousness, “shit.”

Nora showed up later, her warm hands soothing in the dark.

“Lucy, are you asleep, little one?”

“Grandma?” Lucy asked, her groggy voice heavy with sleep and hope. There was a reassuring pressure on her arm, but the answer was disappointing.

“No, it’s me, Nora,” she said. “I’m here to check on you. You fell asleep in your wheelchair.” Clarity descended, and though it was pitch-dark inside the hospital, Lucy could feel Lynn’s alertness in the bed next to her.

There was the screech of the brake being taken off, and then Nora was rolling Lucy toward her own bed, the unexpected movement making her nauseous in the dark. She put her head down and felt Nora’s hands moving over her hair. “You all right?”

“Wasn’t ready to move is all,” Lucy said, taken aback by the easy familiarity with which Nora touched her. Though Lynn’s affections were true, she rarely showed them through touch.

“I’ll warn you next time,” she said gently, and Lucy felt strong arms beneath her as she was shifted over to her bed, the neglected sheet shockingly cool.

“Did your mother wake?”

“No,” Lucy said, relieved the dark masked her lie.

“I’m sorry.”

Lucy didn’t know what to say, so she lay still in the darkness.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she answered. “Not well, but not nearly as bad.”

“That’s to be expected. You lost a lot of water.”

“Water, always water,” Lucy repeated. The wave of nausea returned as she remembered the river of rain closing over her head and sweeping her away.

Nora’s hands brought her back to reality as she checked Lucy’s pulse and felt for a fever. “The men who brought you in said you can witch it.”

“I can,” Lucy said, and felt the hand on her forehead tense at the answer.

“That’s good, little one, good for everyone.”

She’d begun to slide back into sleep before Nora’s words trailed off, but she jerked herself awake. “Why’d you call me that?”

Nora’s hands were gone, her voice suddenly distant in the dark. “Call you what?”

“Little one.”

There was a pause, and Lucy strained her eyes against the black to see if Nora was still there. “I had a child that was built small, like you. Now get some sleep.”

Footsteps retreated, and Lucy heard a door shut behind them. Moments later Lynn’s voice cut through the black.

“You told them?”

The words hung between their beds like a weight, and Lucy fought hard to sound confident when she spoke. “There wasn’t any choice. I’m sorry.”

“Who all knows?”

“I don’t know. The men who found me, Nora apparently.”

“So let’s assume everyone,” Lynn said, and the quiet descended again. “How many people are here?”

“I don’t know, Lynn,” Lucy said. “I’ve been awake about five more hours than you.”

“And what’d you learn in those five hours?”

“That we’re lucky we’re not dead, you especially. Nora and the bigger lady have some kind of medical training. We’re in a real hospital, but apparently they don’t have electricity.”

Lynn was silent again, but Lucy could feel her thinking in the dark, and her own mind ran over the thousand things she should’ve noticed while Lynn lay comatose.

“Those men that found you… did they hurt you in any way?”

“I’m fine, Lynn,” Lucy said.

“You understand what I’m ask—”

“I’m. Fine. You don’t need to assume that—”

“Everyone we meet is bad?”

“Yeah,” Lucy answered. “There are good people in the world, like Grandma. Like Stebbs and Fletcher.”

“There are,” Lynn said carefully, “but we’ll start with the assumption most people aren’t, and let them earn their way up.”

Nora’s warm touch and concerned tone flickered through Lucy’s mind. “Nora seems all right,” she said tentatively.

Lynn grunted in reply.

“What do we do?” Lucy asked, even though her foot ached horribly and sleep was toying with her brain again.

“I don’t know that there’s a lot of we involved. I’m draining myself just talking.”