Free The Orion Plan by Mark Alpert Page B

something simple. I’ll get you a proper meal and a bed in one of the shelters.”
    He didn’t look up. If anything, he stared at the ground more intently. She followed his gaze and noticed that he was looking again at the mound of damp earth that his crushed box sat upon. He clenched and unclenched his hands as he focused on the big, flattened pile of mud. He seemed so agitated that Dorothy started to wonder. What the heck is he staring at? Did he bury something there?
    She let go of his shoulder. The ache in her belly subsided and she felt a twinge of fear instead. She started backing away from Joe and his mud pile. He could’ve buried something fairly large under that mound. Like a bag full of valuables. Or a dead animal.
    She took another step backward. I’ve made a mistake. I don’t really know this man. I have no idea what he’s capable of.
    Then she felt a stabbing pain in the heel of her right foot. At first she thought she’d stepped on a tack or a rusty nail, but the pain quickly intensified and spread, shooting up her leg like an electric shock. Her foot went numb and her knee buckled. She fell sideways, flailing, and her right hip smacked hard against the ground.
    â€œDorothy!”
    Joe crouched beside her but she squirmed away from him, her hands clawing the mud. His mouth was open and his eyes were darting, and maybe he was just examining her, just trying to see what was wrong, but how could she trust him? I know nothing about this man!
    â€œStay back!” she screamed. “Get away from me!”
    He gaped at her for a second, looking confused. Then he stood up and stepped backward. “Dorothy, are you … what happened to—”
    â€œJust stay away!” Keeping one eye on him, she reached for her numb right foot and removed the slip-on shoe. There was a puncture in its thin rubber sole. Then she looked at the bottom of her foot and saw a bead of blood on the heel. It was tiny, smaller than a seed pearl. How could such a puny little cut hurt so much? How could it knock her to the ground like that?
    Joe looked at her foot too, and his face changed. He furrowed his brow and bit his lip. It was a look of apprehension, Dorothy realized. He’s worried. Something funny is going on, and he’s afraid I’ll find out. He turned away from her and looked at the ground again, staring hard at the mud.
    And now Dorothy looked too. She stared at the patch of mud where she’d stood just a few seconds ago, and after a moment she spotted her footprints. She got on her hands and knees—her pants were already splattered with mud, so it didn’t matter—and lowered her head so she could search for the nail or tack she’d stepped on.
    For half a second she thought she saw something sticking out of the mud, something black and slender and sharp. Then it disappeared, sucked back into the ooze.
    She shook her head. She was going crazy. The chemo drugs had finally pushed her over the edge.
    She gave up searching and sat in the mud for the next half minute, trying to catch her breath. Some feeling was coming back to her right foot now, and the pain was ebbing. She flexed the leg a few times to make sure her knee was all right. Joe stood a couple of yards away, keeping his distance. He was hiding something from her, that was for sure, but Dorothy didn’t want to know about it. She just wanted to go home.
    Somehow she managed to stand up. Her pants were filthy but that was the least of her worries. She picked up her canvas bag and turned it upside-down, spilling the cans of peanuts and packages of string cheese on the ground. “You can do whatever you want with this stuff,” she said, not looking at Joe. “Eat it or trade it for booze or throw it away. I don’t really care.”
    He took a step toward her. “Dorothy, I—”
    â€œNo, you stay right there.” She pointed a quivering finger at him. “Don’t you