Free In a Handful of Dust by Mindy McGinnis Page B

an hour they were both wet to their shoulders and their bellies were coated with mud from lying on the bank, but there was a pile of fish between them.
    Lucy lost track of herself while they fished side by side, their shoulders touching when one of them made a lunge for a fish. Her mind wandered away from Carter, the waste of Entargo, even the sick they had left behind them at home. The sun settled on the horizon, and Lynn pushed back onto her heels and wiped scales from her hands, pulling Lucy back to reality. She looked at the wriggling pile between them.
    “We shouldn’t have caught so many,” she said. “We can’t eat them all tonight.”
    “No,” Lynn agreed. “But we can cook some and take the rest with us tomorrow. I’m not getting routed without taking something with me.”
    They made their first fire of the trip that night. Lucy wandered away from their camp searching for more sticks, with the sound of Lynn’s flint smacking together echoing off the trees. Her eyes darted in between the trunks, searching for the flash of skin, the bright blue of Carter’s eyes. But there was nothing.
    Lynn was quiet as well, intent on cleaning her rifle. The fire flickered off the barrel, and Lucy allowed it to mesmerize her, finding solace in watching Lynn’s familiar routine.
    “Do you miss home?”
    Lynn’s hands didn’t stop moving; her eyes didn’t move from her gun. “Got too much to think about to miss anything,” she said. “I’ll miss it later, when I’ve got the time.”
    “I wish I could be more like you,” Lucy said. “Not let stuff get to me so much.”
    Lynn snapped the barrel of her gun back together and looked at Lucy over the fire. “Don’t ever wish to be like me, little one. It’s not who you are. And it ain’t easy.”
    “I didn’t mean—”
    “You being like me would be like the sun wishing it was the moon. That’s not good for anybody.”
    Lucy looked away from Lynn, guilt flooding her even though she knew Lynn was right. Lucy had never had to kill, because Lynn kept her safe. She’d often wondered how much of the hardness around Lynn’s heart was from her uncle Eli’s death, and how much of it from self-inflicted scars. Lynn would do anything for her, leave behind the home she’d killed for in order to give Lucy a better type of life.
    Even so, Lucy couldn’t help but search the trees in the flickering firelight for any sign of Carter, as if her past were slipping, ghost-like, through the forest. The hope for something better had settled into her, firing desires Lucy didn’t know she harbored. The peace of her childhood with Lynn, the warmth of the home, the sanctity of the pond, seemed restrictive now that she’d been out in the world, even for a short while.
    So many times she’d snuck out her window into the night, the cold air filling her lungs and the drop to the ground rushing her blood along. Adventures had always called to her as a child, but she’d been hand in hand with Maddy and Carter then, life a waiting surprise and the promise of safety always taking the danger out of their pranks. Now Maddy was dead, Carter missing, and the intense way Lynn checked and rechecked her rifle reminded Lucy that safety was not a given.

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    HarperCollins Publishers
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Nine
    L ynn could usually move in perfect silence, so the rustle of her return woke Lucy from her sleep. She rolled over.
    “S’wrong?” The coals of the fire gave enough light for her to see Lynn jump at the sound of her voice.
    “Thought I heard a coyote out there, but it was nothing. Go back to sleep,” Lynn said brusquely.
    Lucy burrowed deeper into her blanket in search of the pocket of warmth she’d left behind. She was drifting back into sleep when a stranger’s voice cut through the night, sending her blood coursing through her veins.
    “Hello, the camp!” a woman’s voice cried out, and Lynn shot to