The night passed by without further incident, though Jack was on pins and needles waiting for the hammer to fall the entire evening. There were a few noises outside; one close enough that Jack had loaded a shell in the shotgun and came close to firing, but the safety of the trailer prevailed. At the crack of dawn, the group started to at least stir a bit. Jack found a coffee maker and made some for everyone, Spike’s drowned in sugar and cream.
“You know,” Francis said as he came into the kitchen, looking well-kempt and refreshed despite the early hour. “If you ignore the end of the world outside, I’ve had worse wake-ups.”
Jack looked from the pot to the man. “Somethin’ like that,” the farmer quietly agreed, pouring one for herself. “Get some eggs an’ bacon an’ it’d be jus’ like home was before.”
Spike came next, the antithesis of Francis, his slouched over posture and slack hanging jaw a reminder of the fact they were starting early.
“Mmm,” he grunted out, collapsing onto a chair by the kitchen table.
“Well mornin’, sunshine,” Jack exclaimed. “Hope yer bright-eyed an’ bushy-tailed in a minute or two.”
“Yes, Spike,” Rarity said, walking in a moment later. “You’re normally such a morning person. I hope you’re not coming down with something.”
“Well, he was up fairly late watching something on television. I thought it might do the boy good to have some distraction for a moment or two,” Francis said, taking a sip from his cup.
“Ya damn couch potato,” Jack said affectionately. “Like yer sister an’ her books.”
“It was really cool. Was this show called Thunder—” he paused. “Dogs? No. Cats. Thundercats.”
“That show’s as old as I am, Jesus,” Jack commented with a raise of her brow as she took to her own cup of coffee. “Maybe even more towards Mac’s age.”
Looking around, Rarity asked, “Is that all we have? Coffee?”
“All I saw,” Jack agreed. “Unless ya want some gravy from that spoiled milk ya mentioned last night, or a beer.” She gave a mock look of excitement. “Oh, wait! How could I forget the pork rinds!” Shaking her head, Jack took another sip. “It’s a miracle this guy stocked up on this, even.”
“Tsk…” Rarity ignored the coffee and instead filled her mug with water from the tap. “I hope we have better luck in the capital.”
Jack finished off her cup then considered another. Deciding instead on a less orthodox choice, she reached into the fridge and pulled out a beer. “An’ here I thought ya drank coffee. Or can ya only stomach latte macchiatos?”
“I tend to avoid anything too basic,” Rarity explained. “I’m not really a fan of the taste, but there are ways to make it enjoyable.”
Jack took a drink of the beer and tilted her head. “It’s like steak: ya add too much an’ there’s no point in havin’ it.”
“Well, amongst certain circles…” Rarity huffed slightly. “It’s simply what’s done.”
“I never saw a need to alter coffee myself,” Francis said with a small raise of his shoulder. “If I wanted a hot chocolate I would have a hot chocolate. There’s no need to make coffee taste like that.”
“If certain circles jumped off a bridge, would you?” Spike asked, puffing out his chest in an attempt to look authoritative. Jack fought against the grin she held, but didn’t win; it burst open into a cheek-to-cheek smile at the boy. “You’re better than them, you don’t have to follow their lead.”
“Apparently not anymore,” Rarity agreed. She gave a small smile. “I’ve always preferred a good tea, myself. But water will do for now.” She drank deeply. “So shall we get going?”
After looking over the map, there came a realization: walking would suit them better than driving. The road continued with several twists and turns, and, with it being close to the capital, the traffic would have been choking. Getting a car through there would take up just as many hours as walking would. And time was their greatest enemy at the moment.
Francis lead the way, scouting ahead, his older age doing nothing to slow him down. Jack minded the rear, clinging to the strap of the shotgun for dear life as they traveled. Between the two were Rarity and Spike, the woman keeping an eye on the boy, making sure he didn’t wander off or get into trouble. They took only one pause from their forced march, resting under an alcove of stone, and it was a quiet one. Spike nearly nodded off as they rested. Francis ran recon around the area and Jack had, between the trailer and now, sank into a quiet and curt mood, only speaking when necessary and obviously a thousand miles away from where they were now.
Time escaped from them with every footstep they took and when they finally broke free of the woods, it was a few hours before dusk. About thirty minutes later they came to a rise in the terrain. They climbed it and, past the interstate roads that twisted and rose like a long-dead snake across the sky, there was a massive field of houses and streets. The suburbs that sat outside the capital.
“Well, we could try to chance making it to the capital proper tonight, but I’m not sure that’s wise,” Francis offered. “We should commandeer a home instead.”
“I don’t want to be out here when those things are around,” Spike agreed with a quick nod.
Jack gave a small consenting nod, mulling something over as she stared at the ground.
“Penny for your thoughts, Jack? It’s a good idea, you know.” Rarity took a seat on a nearby stump, stretching out her legs.
“It’s…” Jack seemed to consider it, then crossed her arms and shook her head. “I’ll tell ya later. We should make tracks while we can. Take a minute ta limber up an’ we’ll rest proper in a house. Okay?”
“You won’t find me saying no to a quick break. I haven’t walked this much in...ever, I think.”
“Even back on the farm this wasn’t routine for me either. Ain’t like I walked the fence line every night or nothin’. Usually was enough ta make sure the cattle were fine in the field.” Jack sighed. “I can’t believe we left it. We had to, but, I miss it already. Miss tendin’ the farm, miss picking up Alice from school, I even miss when you’d twist my arm an’ you me an’ the girls would eat at that one upper crust place in town, uh...” She snapped her fingers, trying to drum up the name from her memory. “L’atmosphere?”
“Not the best name, as I recall, but not a bad place either,” Rarity said, nodding her head. She let out a small sigh. “There’s more than enough to miss, I’m afraid. Will I ever see my boutique again? Is… Oh God. Is what I love doing even relevant anymore? I hadn’t even thought…” She shook her head fiercely. “No, not the time to think on that.” Looking to Jack, she added, “And that goes for you too! We can brood on what’s behind us when we’re safe.”
“I’ll try. I’ll try, sug,” Jack answered, her frown deepening before becoming neutral once more. She offered her hand down to the tailor. “Yer right. We don’t have time ta think on it. We gotta move.”
Taking the proffered hand, Rarity rose with a cheerful, “Lead the way, Ms. Apple—we’re counting on you!”
They had their choice out of the litter, and they picked an unassuming house just a few blocks into the suburbs. It was fairly fortified, with windows that had heavy curtains and a door that only had a single sheet of glass, so it was more tempting than a lot of the others with massive windows and inviting glass doors. Jack tried the door and frowned. Locked. Just as she rose a foot up to kick at it, Spike took a step forward and bent down, picking up a garden gnome. He fished around its feet until he let out a small “ah-ha!” Holding a key up, he went to the door and unlocked it, gesturing inside.
“Clever little devil,” Jack commented.
“Twila has her spare key under a turtle statue outside.”
With a tousle of Spike’s hair, Rarity said, “I thought it was a particularly tasteless decoration. Now at least I know why she insisted on keeping it.”
“...I bought that for her for her birthday,” Spike said under his breath.
They stepped inside and Francis reached over, turning on the lightswitch. Only it didn’t turn on any lights. He gave another experimental flick, but had no luck.
“Well, that had to happen sooner or later, I suppose,” he said. “Water might still work, at least.”
“...I don’t like this,” Rarity said quietly. “Thinking about staying in the dark, even inside.” She shivered.
“Maybe they’ll have lights?” Spike offered. “That wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Or candles,” Jack offered. “Pretend you’re a thousand miles away an’ havin’ a candlelit dinner or somethin’.” She fumbled through the house a bit. “Gonna try and find the john. Back in a second.”
Spike looked to Rarity. “If they have Monopoly, we can pretend it’s just a power out. It might be fun.”
“I found some flashlights,” Francis announced from the other room. “Now at least we can—”
They were interrupted by a loud shriek from the other end of the house, followed by a “Fuck!”
“Jack!” cried Rarity as she immediately headed towards the cry, heedless of her lack of weapons. “Jack!”
The woman in question had stumbled back out from the bathroom, numbly fumbling at her belt. She stared into the darkness of the room, trembling. Without saying anything, she shut the door.
“Don’t go in there,” she warned.
Cocking an eyebrow, Rarity asked, “If it’s one of those things, we can’t just leave it!”
“It’s not,” Jack answered. “Rare, it’s…”
After a moment, comprehension dawned on the tailor’s face. “A...body?”
Jack’s expression fell hard at that. Swallowing, she managed a single nod. “A kid.” She brought a hand to her brow and grit her teeth. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered.
Rarity let out a small gasp. “Good heavens… We, we can’t let Spike see—” She swallowed hard. “We’ll need to...move it.”
“We should bury him. Jus’ out in the back or somethin’.”
“Agreed. Let me go tell Francis. He can keep Spike busy. Perhaps see if you can find a shovel?”
Jack mutely nodded, moving towards the front and going through a door at the side, which lead to the house’s garage. A bit of blind searching and she finally found a shovel. Taking it, she went through the house and dropped it by the back entrance, then doubled back, grabbing a blanket from a bedroom. After a moment of disgust and painful empathy for the child, she wrapped him in the blanket and took him out the back, uncaring at how close the night was coming.
She put him down gently on the ground, then took a few steps away, taking out a shovelful of dirt and piling it to the side. Jack realized with no small amount of anger at herself that she was crying. The kid was lying face-down in the tub, bloated from drowning; Jack guessed. Mom had went to check on lunch, answer the door, maybe pick up the phone, and that’s the last thing that happened. Mom was gone and he died alone. It was one thing for her to be going through this. She could take it, or at least try to. A toddler, barely past being a baby? How was that fair? How was it just? The thought that there could be hundreds, if not thousands of these children somewhere right now, the thought that Alice could be like that right now…
Wiping at her eyes, she felt her arms drop limply to her sides as she sucked in a breath, letting it out through teeth she clenched so hard they hurt.
The sound of sliding glass made her turn. There was Rarity, closing the door behind her. “I’ve told Francis and he’ll watch Spike for us, so let’s just…” She stopped after a few steps, bringing a hand to her mouth. With a hard swallow, Rarity forced herself to recognize the blanket-covered body. Then she ignored it, looking at Jack with gentle eyes. “Jack… Give me the shovel, take a seat, okay? I’ll...take care of this.”
“But…” Jack quietly protested, though offering no real resistance to the idea, simply staring down at the blanket. “Rare, I, oh Jesus,” she finally whispered. “Shoulda figured it’d hit kids too, ya know? That it’d…” Wiping at her eyes, she hesitantly looked to Rarity before grimacing and passing the shovel to the woman. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just sit down.” With only a hint of hesitation, the tailor grabbed the shovel and began to dig. The spade felt unusual in her hands, and she felt annoyance that her mind automatically worried about calluses. Instead of saying anything, however, she simply pushed hard, lifting a clod of earth which joined the one Jack had already moved. Her brow furrowed some at how much smaller it was, but merely shrugged and struck again.
Jack watched Rarity dig through the dirt, but said nothing for a long moment, instead paying attention to her form. Though she clearly didn’t do hard labor, Jack bet anything she had had a garden she tended at some point in her life. Maybe her grandparents. As the unearthed pile finally matched the amount Jack herself had dug, the farmer sighed.
“Think he was a good kid?” she asked suddenly, hating herself for asking it and frowning when Rarity paused briefly from the work.
“I’m sure,” Rarity said, huffing some, moving another clod. “And I know what you’re thinking, Jack—don’t.”
Rarity read her like a book and Jack felt a dozens of conflicting emotions from her doing just that. She took in another breath, this one shallower, shuddering, before she sniffed, letting out an almost silent “Yeah,” in a tepid agreement.
“I’ve known you,” she grunted with another shovel full, “for near on our entire lives, Jack. Longer than any of the others.” Stopping for a moment, she wiped at her brow. “Alice is okay, Jack. Somewhere, somehow. She wasn’t alone, and she’s a bright girl.”
“If she’s gone… if Mac’s gone… I got nothin’ else worth livin’ for. Ya know that, sug?” Jack asked, looking at Rarity like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. “I don’t know what I’d do.”
With no reply, Rarity continued digging for a minute, nervously chewing at her lip in thought. “I know it’s hard, Jack. Your family has always been strong, there for each other. You remember when your parents…?” She trailed off, cursing herself quietly for the poor suggestion. “What I mean is: family is more than just a name, is it not? I’m—we’re here for you. You’ve so much more than you may realize.”
Jack exhaled, this time with maybe a hair more life. “You an’ Spike may be the only family I have left, ‘less…” There was a pause; Jack seemed to consider saying more, but instead looked up at the sky in thought. “When we get ta the capital, you take care-a that boy. Ya hear?”
With only a hint of pause, Rarity said, “Of course, Jack.”
Nodding, Jack seemed to relax. “Good. If I lost you two, shit,” she said, the word describing everything she saw and felt at the moment. “Jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout it hurts so much I can’t but barely breathe.”
Quietly, Rarity said, “I know how you feel.” With a particular effort, she heaved a large heap of dirt on the now-sizable pile.
“Then you should know how glad I am you two’ll be safe there. I’m sure Twila’ll take care-a ya both real well.” Rolling her palms together, she glanced at the dirt and once more paused. “She’ll take good care-a ya both,” Jack repeated, more to herself.
“Mmhmm,” Rarity intoned. With one last heave, she stabbed the shovel into the ground, where it promptly fell over. Rolling her eyes, she said, “I think this should suffice, if you want to help?”
“Yeah. I-I think I’m good.” Rising, she moved over to Rarity and looked first to the hole, then, to the elephant in the room. Jack felt her lip tremble, but she remained strong this time, picking the body up and briefly nuzzling it against her breast in an apologetic hug. Realizing that she was once more on the cusp of tears, she knelt down and laid its body gently into the earth.
The farmer thought about her words, trying to say something, anything to express how she felt. Finding nothing, she licked her dry lips and made the sign of the cross, then lowered her head.
“Another little lost lamb comes ta yer flock. Uh, may he find rest, amen,” Jack muttered outs, knowing it was worthless as far as blessings went, but wanting at least something said in the boy’s honor.
“Amen,” Rarity followed, stronger. Gently she took one of Jack’s hands in her own and gave it a little squeeze. Jack returned the grip and nodded, then she took the spade and got to work.
Safety took them into the laundry room; there were no windows that they could be spotted and a door just a dash away. Spike and Francis lay near the wall on top of a collection of quilts, Jack and Rarity much the same a few feet away. After they had finished burying the boy, neither had had much of an appetite, and Spike was worn out still from last night’s movies, so they had agreed with Francis to retire early. Not that there was much any of them could do with the power out, but still. Jack lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, her mind swirling in thought.
She was glad they made it this far, that they had managed to get Spike here safely, that none of them had been severely injured, that those things didn’t know they were here. A lot to be glad and grateful for.
There was something, however, that she still wasn’t sure was a blessing or a curse. It gave her hope and took it away just as quick. Though she had wanted to say something about it, she didn’t know where to begin and, when she had thought of speaking on it, they had found the boy and that took her thoughts away in a heart’s beat.
Still though, she needed to tell someone, and talking about it with Spike or Francis was a worthless endeavor.
“Are ya still awake?” Jack whispered, not looking to the woman as she said the question.
“I am,” came the simple reply, Rarity opening her eyes to the dark, curiosity evident in her voice.
“What a crappy day,” Jack started off with a shake of her head. “Ya holdin’ up?”
“I’m awake for a reason, obviously.” She sighed. “But… I’m alright, for now. Are you alright, Jack?”
“Earlier was harder than I woulda liked. I really put ya on the spot.” Her expression flinched as she thought back, back from where they were, and to home. “Would ya believe I’ve always been bad with kids gettin’ hurt? Mac is too, but I could barely even give calves shots growin’ up. So earlier… hit me harder than the hoof of a holstein. No kid deserves that. I-it’s fuckin’ evil, Rare.”
Despite herself, Rarity chuckled. “I always did say you would be a fine mother.” More seriously, she added, “There’s nothing wrong with a bit of empathy. Honestly, I respect that, Jack.”
“Thanks, sug. I’m jus’ glad ya did what ya did, otherwise we might have been out there all night with him.” Her smile faded as she looked over to Spike and after a beat she turned her back to him, resting an elbow on her pillow.
“There’s somethin’ ya gotta know,” Jack said. Before she lost her nerve, she charged forward. “I… the capital. I can’t stay.”
“Yes? And?” At Jack’s sputter, Rarity continued. “I told you earlier, I’ve known you too long. It was plain on your face, as you would say.”
“But do ya know why?” she asked. “I ain’t doin’ it jus’ ta tail it back home.”
“Well, I’m hardly a mind reader. And I’m curious—I was waiting for you to tell me.”
Jack looked towards the mess of clothes thrown towards the kitchen and she rose, sauntering towards it. She reached to her back pocket and made her way back to Rarity, squatting down near where the other lay.
“Yers out of juice?” Jack asked, already booting the phone up. Rarity nodded, her face looking long and pale in the dark.
“Well, plus of older models, I guess. Still got a lil’ left in mine.”
Finally loaded, she moved her hand down to a small envelope icon on its screen. There, a message appeared.
Truck’s gone to hell. Stuck in town for a few more days. Be careful.
“Mac’s number,” Jack explained, her hand briefly quivering. “Got that jus’ today.”
Her eyes wide, Rarity exclaimed, “Today?! That’s great news!”
Jack’s glare instantly made the tailor lower her voice once more. “Unless the line got tied up an’ I’m jus’ now gettin’ a message some days old.”
The tailor’s face twisted in thought and disappointment. “It’s not impossible, we have been in some out of the way country… But still, Jack. It’s far better than nothing.”
“I know. That’s why I’m goin’. Goin’ all the way to Appaloosa.” Jack nodded in agreement. “I wanted ta tell ya earlier, but…”
“No, I understand…” Rarity sighed quietly. “If I had a message from my parents, or Stephanie, I’d probably… But that’s a long way to go on your own, Jack.”
“I know.” She looked back down at the screen of the phone. “Over a thousand miles, through things I can’t even think ‘bout. But I gotta try, don’t I? If there’s… if there’s a chance they’re out there fer me. I gotta.”
“You ‘gotta’,” Rarity echoed. “I agree.”
“I’m, uh, glad ya think that, sug. So don’t be worryin’ ‘bout me none.” Offering as sincere a smile she could under the circumstances, she put a hand to Rarity’s shoulder and gave a flick of her eyes towards Spike. “Ya jus’ worry ‘bout that boy, okay?”
With a look toward the boy herself, Rarity closed her eyes, saying, “O-of course, Jack. You can count on me, I...promise.”
“I know I can. Ya ain’t let me down yet, sug.” Her smile a hair pained, she forced a laugh out. “Alright, enough prancin’ ‘bout in my unmentionables, lemme put this up an’ I’ll hit the sack.”
She returned to their makeshift bed a moment later and sank under the covers, the improvised thing feeling like heaven regardless of how slipshod it was.
“If there’s one thing I know, it’s that Rarity Belle ain’t a girl ta let people down,” Jack said with a small smile. “She might complain’ while doin’ it, but she’ll take care-a business.”
Rarity forced out a low chuckle, saying, “If Jack Apple says it, one knows it must be true…” But why doesn’t it feel that way, this time? she asked herself.
“Damn straight,” Jack replied with a nod. She turned once more into her back. “Guess next I’ll say that we should try this whole sleep thing, huh?”
Pulling the covers tightly around herself, the tailor gave a quiet, “Indeed; goodnight, Jack.”
“Night, sug. I…” she paused, then shook her head. “Night,” she repeated instead.
It wasn’t long before the deep sounds of sleep drifted from the farmer’s side. But Rarity turned back, an itch of discomfort building between her shoulder blades. Though whether due to the makeshift bedding or her own chaotic thoughts, she never quite decided as the night stretched on and the first light of morning came.