Page 33 of The Wilderwomen

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For several minutes they walked in silence past campsites populated by squealing kids and adults too tired to chase them. A short-haired dog lying in the shade lifted its head to watch them pass and thumped its tail once in greeting.

“We’re almost there.” Finn grabbed her sister’s hand. “Come on. I want to introduce you to my friends.”

How long had Zadie slept for? Finn had always made friends easily, but this was a record, even for her.

“You’ll like them. They’re just like us.”

“Like us how?”

Finn let the question dangle as she led them around a corner and toward the service road Zadie had explored the night before. Zadie stopped.

Her sister looked at her curiously. “Something wrong?”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to go down there.” What if she ran into the keyboardist who caught her spying on her? Zadie cringed at the thought.

Finn waved her off. “Don’t worry. It’s cool. They told me to stop by anytime.”

Zadie followed her the rest of the way without protest.It was dark,she reasoned. The woman probably wouldn’t even recognize her.

When they arrived at the RV camp, there was already a group of people gathered by a picnic table as if they had been expecting them. “Finn!” one of the women cheered. “You came back!”

“Of course! I wasn’t about to miss the barbecue.”

The Ladybug fluttered. Barbecue sounded much better than oatmeal.

“Everyone, this is my sister, Zadie.”

Zadie waved awkwardly. They returned her greeting with smiles and friendly nods.

“I was just telling her about you guys. Cynthia over here”—she pointed to an elderly woman with a braid—“can tell you what you’re going to dream tonight.”

Now Zadie understood what Finn had meant bythey’re just like us.Before she could comment, Finn continued. “Tonya”—she turned to a middle-aged Black woman with wire-framed glasses—“can sense the exact temperature without looking at a thermometer, and Earworm can get a song stuck in your head without even opening his mouth.”

A man sporting a bandanna and a bushy red beard said, “You can call me Brian.” Brian’s eyes lingered on Zadie a second longer than she was comfortable with. She looked away.

“Finn, I think we should—”

Finn turned to look over her shoulder. “Hey, Chuck! Do that thing to my sister.” A gaunt man with the facial hair of a mountain goat looked up from fiddling with an overturned mountain bike.

“Sure.”

Zadie started to object, but the man cut her off. “Coffee.”

“Excuse me?”

He carefully applied oil to the chain of his bike, his tone distracted. “You want coffee. It’s all you’ve wanted for days.”

Zadie looked at her sister, puzzled.

“Chuck can tell people what they’re hungry for,” Finn explained. “He knew I was craving mac and cheese this morning.”

“Forbreakfast?”

Her sister shrugged.

The man spun the front wheel of his bike. It clicked as it turned. “I can brew a pot if you’d like some.” The offer was clearly intended for Zadie, but he didn’t so much as glance in her direction.

“No, thank you. I’m fine,” she answered, then turned back to her sister. “Can we talk?”


Tags: Ruth Emmie Lang Fantasy