The Variables

“Don’t be stupid, Miss King,” Gordy continued, using her surname to gain her attention. “Look at this room, read these stories. Murder. Injustice. Mayhem. Governments purposefully starving their citizens. Corruption.”

She turned and looked at him, and she blinked, and then she took a step outside into the hallway. She wanted him to feel every ounce of her freedom to walk away.

“Of course, we ca

“What are you talking about?” Lucy asked.

He took her hand, pried open her palm, and placed a small slip of paper inside. Then he closed her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Just a guess,” he replied. “I lack Cass Salvant’s ability to predict the future. But I have other means at my disposal.” And he left her in the doorway of the Remembering Room as he walked back down the hall, pushing the button to the glass elevator and walking on board without giving her the satisfaction of looking back. When he was safely out of sight, Lucy opened her palm and stared at the piece of paper Gordy had left there.

I love you it read in Grant’s distinct handwriting. The jagged edges around the paper were torn and missing.

She let out a small gasp of surprise and let the paper float to the floor. Then she marched back down the hallway, out of the hall of memories, away from the room of remembering, and back out of the lower level. Though it wouldn’t matter where she went. She was being watched. Forever.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Ray and Jillian pulled over to the side of the road. A dirt-smeared sign greeted them with the message: Welcome to Brixton. Population 26.

“This the place?” Ray asked through the back window into the bed of the pickup truck where Dean, Darla, and Ainsley had sat for the bulk of the sixteen-hour drive. They had stopped a few times along the way, once to drop off Liam and the girls and meet the other survivors in Montana. The Montana community welcomed their trio without fear or apprehension. They pooled together their limited resources to treat Darla’s hand and feed them well before they journeyed onward. Those who had discovered the commune felt blessed and safe.

The whole time they were there, Darla regained some of her dashed hopefulness. Perhaps not everyone’s spirit was broken. Some goodness did survive.

Like they promised, Ray and Jillian agreed to make the trip to Nebraska without payment. Whether propelled by kindness or some other motivation, Darla didn’t know, but they did it without complaint.

They didn’t have to.

Along the way, Darla, Dean, and Ainsley could have acquired a new vehicle and ventured out on their own. But they couldn’t deny that it was comforting to have a chauffeur. Ray and Jillian switched off driving while the trio slept and relaxed in the back. Though their time together was brief, it provided a needed respite.

Darla looked at the Brixton sign and nodded.

Brixton, Nebraska. It didn’t seem like anything was here, but she wanted to reserve her fear until she knew for sure.

“You want us to take you further in?” Jillian asked.

“No, ma’am,” Dean answered. “We got it from here.”

Ray stuck his hand through the window and Darla grabbed on tight, shaking it with a strong grip. “We wish you luck and hope you find your son,” he said. He waited, paused. She had given him bits and pieces of their story, but she hadn’t told them that Ethan’s father was co

Darla knew their generosity was a sacrifice she could never repay.

“Thank you,” she answered. “I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough...”

Ray let go of her hand and batted the comment away. “We’re good here. And you know where we are...if you need a place to go, our doors are open.”

“That means a lot,” Darla said as she sat on the edge of the truck and then hopped down to the dusty ground below. She extended her left hand to Ainsley and helped her down; Dean followed after. “Once I have Teddy, I don’t know where we’ll go. Maybe you’ll see us soon?”

“We’d like that,” Jillian said. “You’re good people.”

Darla looked at the ground and kicked the dust. She looked up and squinted. “Sometimes,” she replied and smiled. “Drive safe?”

Ray nodded and saluted, and without any prolonged heart-warming goodbyes, the truck did a u-turn and disappeared back down the dusty road, kicking up a film of dirt around them, the truck’s tires crunching along until it was out of sight.

From the sign, they walked in silence. Darla had her gun and nothing else. She held it in her wounded hand, keeping her finger poised on the trigger in anticipation of spotting someone worthy of shooting at any second. It was nearly half a mile of walking before they even reached a building.

Darla was the first one to spot the car with Wyoming plates sitting at the start of Main Street. Its passenger side door was wide open, and she jogged over to inspect it. The interior was littered with wrappers and empty water bottles. In the back seat there was a small bag—Darla hoisted it into the passenger side and unzipped it; she tossed out a few pieces of clothing, but there was nothing identifiable in either the car or the bag. Darla crawled back out with her hands on her hips, assessing the town with one long sweep.

Dean paused in front of a bar called Carson’s Place.

“Whatcha got?” he called to Darla.

“Nothing,” Darla shouted back.

“And we’re sure this is the place?” Ainsley asked. A heavy wind rushed down the street, throwing dust into miniature cyclones.

“This is the place,” Darla said with authority. “These were the coordinates. This is the city. Ethan and I talked about it all the time—” she trailed off, remembering that Teddy was not the only thing they had lost that day. Ainsley looked at the ground and dug her toe into the dirt road, and then she looked up into the sky. It was a deliberate sort of quiet that blanketed the street.

“This is hardly the type of place that is housing some sort of vast terrorist cell,” Ainsley muttered. “We’re missing something.” She peered through the darkened windows of the bar, wandered down the street, and kicked small tumbleweeds underfoot as she walked. Stopping, she paused and spun around. “Where’d Dean go?” she asked, sca

Darla stopped and looked around. “Dean!” she called. “Dean!” she called louder when he didn’t reply to their shouts.

Ainsley started walking out of the main area, past the church and the school. The rolling Sand Hills of Nebraska spread out all around them. Behind the church, there was a small knoll, and atop it, she could see Dean’s figure standing, looking out and beyond at something out of sight.

“Up there!” Ainsley called back to Darla and she took off toward Dean, who remained unmoving on the hill. As she approached from behind, she laughed. “You disappear for like one minute and I think we all think you’ve been abducted or shot,” she said.

“I had to take a leak,” Dean replied without turning.

“Oh.” Ainsley froze mid-step. She turned. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Dean said. “I’m done. No...come here. You should see this.”