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  Joe did something he hadn’t done in ages. He smiled. “This is how we get Marcus to Purcell without working Devin to death or leaving Peter behind. Flix!” Joe threw his arms around Flix and kissed his forehead. “We’re going to make it.”

  ***

  Devin pulled the rope over his shoulder and stared at the wall looming ahead of them. The rope attached to the small boat that carried Marcus. The wall attached to New America. The massive white barrier obscured the horizon and disappeared out of sight to the east and west. When they’d first seen it, it had seemed like a small thing. A fence. A garden wall, like the concrete enclosure that had secluded his backyard when he was a boy. The height of the wall was difficult to gauge. The closer they got, the taller and more impenetrable it seemed.

  They’d been naive. He and Joe should have realized New America wouldn’t let people waltz on in. But what did they know? Nothing, really. Joe’s entire knowledge of the north came from fairy tales his dad had fed him. Devin’s only knowledge came from Joe.

  How had they gone this far and not asked? Not wondered? They hadn’t known where the border was, hadn’t known they were getting close, not even Peter, who apparently hadn’t done fuck-all to pay attention in school if he was so ignorant about his own country.

  Devin snorted. Ahead of him, Peter turned. Devin motioned for him to turn around again and keep going. The kid had the rope in his hands, same as Devin, but he either wasn’t trying or was really weak. Devin glanced to his left and watched Joe and Flix drag their rope forward. They worked well together, and Devin swallowed a bit of jealousy.

  He didn’t like that Joe and Flix had gone off together after he’d collapsed under the weight of Peter and Marcus. He trusted Joe. Nothing would happen between him and Flix. No matter how much Flix may want it, Joe wasn’t interested. Still, Devin was kind of pissed that he had to share.

  As soon as he thought it, he felt guilty. Marcus was back there dying, and Devin was bitching because he wasn’t getting enough of his partner’s attention? Besides, Flix had been nice to him up on the highway in Dallas, before Marcus fell. He needed to remember that.

  “Is that the town in front of the wall?” Flix asked. “We need to go faster.” The area around one of his eyes had swollen and turned purple. Had Joe done that?

  No one answered him, but something town-like sat at the base of the wall, unfolding and coming into focus as they got closer. If it was the town, that wall had to be enormous, ten or twelve stories tall.

  The town took shape as they approached. Too many buildings to count were spread out on either side of the highway. None of the places were large, and they all looked hastily constructed.

  “This is a shantytown,” Joe said.

  Devin made eye contact with Flix, and they both shrugged. Good. At least the little prick — Twin? Friend? Friend, yeah — didn’t know what Joe meant, either.

  “Do you think this is Purcell?” Devin asked.

  “I hope so.” Joe pointed. “I see people.”

  Devin had to squint, and even then he couldn’t make out anything definite, but whatever the blobs were between the buildings, they were moving. Not as many people as they’d seen in Dallas, but still. This town was a lot smaller than Dallas. And these people were out during the day. The sun blistered unprotected skin. Maybe these people were covered.

  A quake of apprehension worked its way through Devin. Joe had told him about the dead bodies back at that house. What if the killers lived here, in this town? Between the five of them, they had a decent amount of supplies — not enough, but more than many. The people in this town might not be friendly. Hating himself a little bit, Devin checked the positioning of the rifle on his back. What he’d done back in Dallas, threatening to shoot the person trading with Joe, terrified him. He didn’t want to be that kind of man. Right now, though, the gun bumping his shoulder blade reassured him.

  “When we get there,” Joe said, “we need to ask for the doctor. He might be using a different name.”

  “I thought you said it was a she?”

  “She. He. Yes.”

  Devin rolled his eyes. That cleared up nothing. Joe’s attention was fixed on the town, so Devin didn’t ask him to elaborate. He’d find out soon enough.

  They neared the town, which was laid out in rows of buildings with wide dirt paths in between. It didn’t quite look like a real city — most of the buildings didn’t have windows, and the walls and roofs slanted at odd angles with mismatched wooden boards and metal sheets — but it looked like the people living there had tried to make it one.

  The citizens out and about stopped and stared as Devin and his companions approached. About thirty yards away, a rail-thin man with a holstered gun stepped a few paces closer. Devin readied to reach for the rifle if the man made a move. Along the way north, they’d seen others with weapons, but Devin hadn’t gotten used to it. Any armed person could be dangerous, ready to steal from them or try to return them to Boggs.

  Joe released the rope dragging the boat and marched, palms-up, to a woman and child.

  A child! Marcus had said he had a little brother and sister, but except for baby Nina back at the Flats, Devin had never seen a child before. The little girl’s long black hair was braided, and her pudgy honey-gold face had gone slack as Joe approached.

  Joe stopped when he got close enough so he wouldn’t have to shout to be heard. He kept his hands up. “Where is the doctor?”

  The woman — she had to be the little girl’s mother, they looked so much alike — shook her head. “No inglès.”

  The little girl tugged on her mother’s sleeve. She spoke rapidly in Spanish, and Joe’s shoulders relaxed. The mother nodded and motioned with her head before walking away. Joe jogged back, picked up the rope, and followed behind the woman.

  “Joe?” Devin had no idea what was happening, but he hoped the woman knew where to go.

  “Her daughter understood,” Joe explained without taking his eyes off the woman. “She translated for her mom, and now the mom’s going to take us to them, I think.”

  “‘You think’?” Devin glanced over his shoulder and saw that the man with the gun was following them.

  Joe huffed. “It’s not an exact science, papi, dealing with people. ‘I think’ is the best I can do right now. I’m pretty sure she’s not leading us to a boiling pot to eat us for dinner.”

  The little girl turned toward Joe and laughed. “You’re funny.”

  Joe didn’t look like he knew what to do with kids, either. His lips barely moved as he said, “Thanks.”

  They passed rows and rows of buildings. Outside one, a woman whose dark brown skin was so wrinkled her cheeks hung below her chin scowled at Devin and muttered something under her breath. Devin wished he’d thought to cover his hair and hide his eyes.

  Other men and women whispered as he passed, but none were as openly hostile as the old lady or as persistent as the gunman, whose eyes Devin felt on the back of his neck.

  Midway through the town, the mother and daughter took a sharp left and walked past all the rows of houses. Out alone in a field sat a real house, one that had windows and had been made with machines. Its blue exterior had been dulled by a coat of red dirt, but the windows were clean and two birds, chickens maybe, milled about in the front yard.

  The mother gestured to the house.

  Joe fiddled with a backpack beside Marcus’s shoulder and withdrew two Insta-food bars. He handed them to the woman. “Gracias.”

  The woman’s shy smile made Devin swallow his objection to Joe giving away their precious food. “De nada,” she whispered before walking away.

  Her daughter peeked over her shoulder and waved at Joe, who grimaced and waved back. Devin chuckled until Flix pressed forward and grabbed Joe’s elbow. He threw his shoulder behind Joe’s and prodded him toward the house.

  “Go. My brother’s dying. Move.”

  Joe nodded and approached the door. If Devin didn’t know him better,
he’d say Joe was nervous. Despite Flix’s pressure, Joe’s steps were slower than usual, and his shoulders bunched toward his head.

  “Peter, go help Flix with the other rope.” Devin wanted to get Marcus as close to Joe as he could. If the doctor, Joe’s friend, whatever, could see that they had an emergency, maybe they’d be more likely to help. Call him jaded, but Devin wasn’t sure he’d trust some former Flights of Fantasy coworker to do the right thing.

  Joe crossed over the flat concrete porch and stood in front of the door. He inhaled sharply and knocked.

  The door opened, and a woman with the reddest hair Devin had ever seen poked her head out. For a beat, no one moved. The woman stared at Joe, and Devin held his breath.

  Joe’s hand twitched at his side.

  Was this Joe’s friend? Her eyes roamed his face, and she stepped fully outside the door. Her lips trembled, and her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths.

  “Hi, Lil,” Joe said.

  The edge of the woman’s lush mouth tilted up, then she flashed a huge grin that showed off the cosmetically enhanced, brilliant white teeth all Flights of Fantasy runners had. She let out a puff of breath and threw her arms around Joe. The force of the hug pushed him back a step, but the woman kept them balanced. He wrapped his arms around her back, but she was already breaking the embrace. She cupped Joe’s face. “You’re really here. I never thought you’d actually show up.”

  The woman, Lil, shook her head and covered Joe’s face in kisses. When she kissed his mouth, her lips pressing and staying, Devin hated the way his groin responded. He checked on the gunman, who was edging away, fading into the town.

  “We have a wounded friend,” Joe said. “I need —”

  A stunning teenage girl barged out of the house. Her long, wild, dark brown hair curled around her shoulders, and she wore huge, thick glasses that magnified deep brown eyes. She glared at Lil and peeked around her shoulder at Joe. “I hear a weasel.”

  Even from the awkward angle, Devin saw Joe’s grin. Joe spread his arms. “Mole!”

  The girl all but tackled Joe, hurling herself into his arms and shoving him back against one of the posts supporting the porch roof.

  Joe kissed her crazy hair. “You got tall.”

  The girl smirked up at him. “You stayed short.”

  “God damn it, Joe.” Flix pushed past Joe and addressed Lil. “Doctor, my brother’s dying. Please, help him.”

  Lil’s smile dropped. She opened the door wide. “Bring him in.”

  The kayak fit, just barely, and Devin found himself in a tidy living room with gray walls and two faded red couches. The uncovered windows let in plenty of light even though the sun was on its way down. A real kitchen with wood cabinets and a long wooden table lay beyond the living room.

  Joe gestured to Marcus. “He’s got an infection and serious —”

  “We’ll need to get him...”

  Whatever Lil was saying faded to background noise as a man emerged from the darkness beyond the kitchen and stopped at the entrance to the living room. He was taller than Devin and thinner than Joe. He walked with a cane and wasn’t particularly handsome. But power oozed from him. Strong hands. Intelligent hazel eyes. Long, long legs.

  Devin was eighteen years old and hadn’t fucked Joe in days. This man turned him on.

  The man studied Joe before his attention ghosted over Flix and Peter, the boat holding Marcus, and Devin.

  Devin stood up straighter and sucked in a breath.

  The man’s eyes went back to Joe. He crossed his arms over his narrow chest and said, “You shouldn’t have come, nuevecito.”

  SEVEN

  Joe straightened his shoulders and summoned all his confidence. He’d known this reunion wouldn’t be perfectly smooth. “I need you, Navarro.”

  Navarro swatted the air with his hand. “You never needed anyone but yourself.” His eyes flitted once more around the room behind Joe. “You brought along a whole traveling freak show? We don’t need that kind of trouble.”

  “My friend’s hurt. Compound fracture. Infection.”

  That got Navarro’s attention. His cane thumping the floor, he pushed his way past Joe to Marcus. “Where’s the fracture?”

  “Heel. But also one of his lower leg bones and his right arm.”

  Navarro grunted and nodded at Devin. “Muscles, be real careful and pick him up under his shoulders and thighs. Let his lower legs dangle. Follow me.”

  Excellent. With Navarro at work, Marcus at least stood a fighting chance.

  Devin hesitated, glancing at Joe, before scooping Marcus out of the boat. Marcus whimpered but didn’t struggle, and Devin trailed after Navarro, disappearing into a back room.

  Flix tried to follow, but Lil blocked his path. She laid a hand on his arm and smiled. “Your brother’s in good hands. Navarro knows what he’s doing. What’s your name, sweetie?”

  “Flix. I need to be with my brother.” Flix dabbed at his eyes with shaky hands. “I have to take care of him.”

  Lil patted Flix’s shoulder and motioned to Joe. “Why don’t you have a seat? I need to go help Navi, but I’ll come get you as soon as your brother’s ready for visitors.”

  Joe beamed at Lil. After all this time, she was as warm and strong as he remembered. He wrapped an arm around Flix and led him to one of the red sofas. They sat, and Flix buried his head in Joe’s chest. On the other couch, Peter and Sadie eyed each other with obvious interest. Dear God, she’d grown. Those glasses Joe had helped buy barely fit. Sadie’s magnified eyes swept up and down Peter like he was the most exotic thing she’d ever seen.

  Maybe he was.

  Tentatively, she reached out and slid a finger down Peter’s arm, from his biceps to the back of his hand. “I’ve never seen someone so white.”

  Peter swallowed. “I’ve never seen someone so beautiful.”

  Flix snorted into Joe’s chest. Joe couldn’t blame him. They may have found Peter’s declaration cringe-worthy, but Sadie moved closer and examined Peter’s face, rubbing his jaw, his cheekbones, his lips. Peter blushed crimson.

  Joe bristled. He extended his leg and used his foot to separate the two. “Knock it off. Sadie’s too young to be flirting.”

  Sadie put her hands on her hips and lightly kicked Joe’s shin. “I’m fourteen, and I’m not flirting, Weasel. I’m experimenting.”

  “That’s not reassuring, Mole.”

  The door at the back of the kitchen opened, and Devin came through. “That guy Navarro wants you, Joe.”

  Joe untangled himself from Flix and headed toward the back of the house. When he passed, Devin grabbed his waist and pulled him chest to chest.

  “Is he some old boyfriend?”

  The question surprised Joe. He probably should have expected it, and a part of him thrilled to the jealousy in Devin’s voice, in the squeeze of his hands. Another part of him didn’t understand why it would matter.

  “Navarro?” Joe shook his head. “I had a crush on him once.”

  “He’s sexy.”

  Well. Joe jerked his head back as his surprise turned to shock. It’d never occurred to him that Devin’s attraction to men extended beyond the bounds of their relationship. Was that his own tinge of jealousy? “I guess.”

  “But you two never...”

  “He’s the most straight man I’ve ever met, and I was a child to him, an inconvenience.” Navarro probably would have chosen a different word. “Nothing ever happened between us.”

  Devin grimaced and started to say more, but Navarro bellowed for Joe to hurry up.

  Joe had thought he and Devin were solid again. Now he wasn’t so sure. He leaned in, kissed Devin’s jaw. “Little boy crushes don’t mean anything. I only see you, papi.” He pushed away and went through the door.

  It led to a short hallway that ended in a concrete-floored exam room with large windows and bright lights. The quiet hum of electricity brought Joe’s breath up short.

  He’d only left the Flats about two weeks ago. Th
ey’d had electricity. But he’d almost forgotten what it was like — the luxury of light when you wanted it.

  Marcus lay on a gleaming steel table in the middle of the room. His face had paled to a sickly green, but his breathing was steadier than it had been in at least a day. His eyes were closed, and he didn’t appear to be conscious.

  “Quit daydreaming, nuevecito, and get your scrawny ass over here to help. Wash and glove up first,” Navarro said as he cut Marcus’s pantleg away.

  Lil hovered over Marcus, too, though instead of medical aid, she nuzzled Marcus’s temple with her cheek and whispered words of comfort.

  Joe hurried through sanitizing his hands and joined them.

  “Okay,” Navarro said. “I’ve given him enough universal anti-bac to make his guts glow for years. His arm’s been set. Now I need to do his leg and heel, and it’s going to hurt like a son of a bitch, even with pain meds. You’ll need to hold him down while Lili and I fix the breaks. Be ready to assist us if we need it.”

  Joe nodded and pinned Marcus’s elbows to the exam table.

  “Lie over him. Put your weight into it. He may seem weak now, but I promise you, he’s going to move when we get started.” Navarro narrowed his sharp brown eyes. “Keep him still. I’m depending on you.”

  Joe resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He lay across Marcus’s pelvis and stomach while keeping his hold at the elbows. “Go.”

  The jerk of Marcus’s leg rattled Joe. Marcus shrieked, his mouth opening so wide his lips turned white, and his hips threatened to leave the table. Joe pressed down and tried to tell Marcus he’d be all right.

  “Leg’s done,” Navarro said as Marcus’s voice dropped back into a low whine. Joe had forgotten how fast Navarro worked. “Heel next. See if you can keep his hips still and hold down his other leg. This is going to wake him good, and I need to be extra careful of how I set the bone.”

  Joe shifted sideways and cupped Marcus’s uninjured leg just below the knee. Navarro placed a foam roller under Marcus’s calf and unwrapped the bloody t-shirt Joe had bandaged the heel with earlier in the day. As soon as the bandage fell away, Marcus began to whimper and thrash. Blood dripped from the wound.