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  “You fucking killed me, baby.” Devin’s arm was thrown over his face. His chest heaved and sweat dripped from his body.

  “‘Baby’?”

  “Shut up. You sucked my brain out my dick.” Devin’s lips quirked in a tiny smile, but he didn’t remove his arm from his face. “Damn it. Did you come?”

  “No, but don’t get up.” Joe spread his hands over Devin’s torso. “You look so beautiful all spent and laid out like that. I know lots of ways to finish.”

  Devin shifted his legs wider, but his sweet smile dipped into a frown. “Do you want to...”

  Understanding dawned slowly for Joe, but when it did, he pressed Devin’s thighs closer together. “No.”

  Devin dragged his arm away from his face and lifted his head. “You don’t want to?”

  “I do. God, I do.” Joe kissed Devin’s hip, his chest, his cheek. “I want that so much. But I want us to talk about it first, sometime when you’re not feeling pressured because you got off and I didn’t and you feel like maybe you should offer it up to even things out.”

  “Come here.”

  Joe grabbed the lube from where it had fallen, digging into his knee, and stretched out on top of Devin, whose arms closed around him in almost the same way they’d started their lovemaking. Joe rested his head on Devin’s chest, slicked his own penis, and humped gently against the crease of Devin’s thigh. He came that way, his orgasm rumbling through him like soft thunder in a steady rain, Devin’s hands stroking his back.

  Joe shuddered when it was over, and Devin dropped soft kisses and sweet whispers into his hair.

  They’d needed this. Worries about what was coming would crowd their way back in soon enough, but for now, Joe couldn’t muster the energy to care.

  NINE

  Joe stepped outside in the waxy morning sunshine and waited for Navarro. One of the chickens ambled up and pecked at his ankle.

  “Ouch. Stop that.”

  The chicken ignored him and tried to eat his shoe.

  Joe grimaced. He didn’t know what to do with animals. All he wanted was to get moving, check out the town, the wall, and find out if this place would be safe enough for them to stay while Marcus recuperated.

  A hail of corn kernels flew through the air from behind him, and the chicken tore off after them, squawking and clucking. Its companion, the smarter chicken, moved twice as fast, gobbling up as much food as it could get.

  Joe looked over his shoulder. “Your birds are stupid.”

  Navarro ignored him and stomped off the porch toward the town. Joe sighed and followed.

  When he caught up, Navarro chuckled. “City boy.”

  “You’re a city boy, too, Navarro.”

  “My Uncle Ernesto had a farm about twenty miles east of Austin. Mami would send me out there every summer when I was little. Loved the animals.” Navarro waved at a woman who passed. “Probably should have tried to be a vet instead of a doctor.”

  “When we’re done with your rounds, will you take me to the wall?”

  After he and Devin’d had sex, Joe had barely dozed off again before Navarro poked his head into the bedroom and told him to get his ass up. Navarro wanted to check on his homebound patients, and because Liliana had mayor business to attend to, he needed an assistant. Joe rolled out of bed, drank the dregs from Navarro’s coffee mug, and laced his shoes. He had wanted to help, but he had also wanted answers.

  “Later,” Navarro said. “The clinic opens right after rounds.”

  “Then at least tell me about it right now. Do you know how to get in?”

  “You walk. Not now.” Navarro gestured to the huts in the sad little town. “Thin walls. Nosy-ass ears.”

  “Come on, Navarro, I’ve waited —”

  “Wait longer.” Navarro veered right, down a small side walkway. The houses, if you could call them that, were set about five feet apart. A few people milled about, and most waved at Navarro but maintained their distance.

  “They think you have barracooties?”

  Navarro smirked. “Something like that. They figure I’m around sick people, I must have germs, too. Plus, I’m not popular with the Sons, and people want to stay on their good side.”

  “Bullies.”

  “If someone carries a big enough stick, people tend to fall in line. Left here.”

  “Except you.”

  “Except me.”

  What had Navarro done to get on the wrong side of the Sons? Joe doubted he’d get a straight answer while they were out in the town, not if Navarro wouldn’t even talk about something as impersonal as the wall.

  “See the house with the blue paint? That’s our first call. Mrs. Fonta. Nothing too major. She hasn’t had a DFI in a while. Forgot, went outside during the day, and got blistered pretty badly. A little ointment and we’re on our way.”

  That reminded Joe. “So these people have access to DFIs? Where does it come from?”

  “The Sons. Are you current on your injections? I need to check all of you over, I suppose.”

  Joe caught the change in subject, but he decided not to press. “Peter just got dosed, I guess, two weeks ago now. Devin’s been about two and a half months. Me, maybe four months. I don’t know about the twins.”

  Navarro stopped in front of the house with the blue paint and removed a pair of gloves and some ointment from the bag in Joe’s hand. “Peter’s the kid? Tough times, that one. And Devin’s the one you’re...” He wriggled his eyebrows.

  Navarro had been terrible with names as long as Joe had known him. It was why Joe and Sadie had started calling each other Weasel and Mole, to tease Navarro.

  “Yep.”

  “You’re playing with fire when it comes to that one. Muscles attracts too much attention with all that blond hair. The kid you can play off as pale Mexican as long as no one sees his eyes.”

  And this was appropriate to talk about in public? “Thanks for the unsolicited advice.”

  Navarro’s hawkish eyes raked Joe’s face, and Joe had to fight not to look down. Navarro had always been able to make him feel like a child.

  With a sigh, Navarro knocked on the door. “It’s Dr. Suarez, Mrs. Fonta. May I come in?”

  A feeble noise came from inside, and Navarro opened the door.

  The windowless room reeked of piss. A pile of tattered clothes and blankets sat in one corner, and a small stock of Insta-food bars and vegetables filled another. As the door swung shut, the pile of blankets moved. The room plunged into a darkness rendered incomplete by gaps in the corrugated metal walls.

  Joe fished in Navarro’s bag and pulled out a small flashlight. He flicked the switch and shone the light toward the blankets. Mrs. Fonta flinched and shielded her eyes with a bloody, blistered hand.

  He covered the light with his t-shirt. “Sorry.”

  Navarro snapped on his gloves and knelt next to Mrs. Fonta. “Mrs. F, this is my old friend, Joe. He got into town yesterday, and he’s helping me take care of everyone while he’s here.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Fonta. It’s nice to meet you.” Joe smiled.

  The woman’s dark, blistered face twisted. “You look like one of those plastic boys. Homosexuals.”

  Joe worked to hide his shock. Gay had been flung at him like an insult before, but no one had ever implied he “looked” gay. He wasn’t even sure what that meant. Flix and Devin couldn’t look less alike.

  “Gay men make good caregivers,” Navarro said mildly as he lifted Mrs. Fonta’s arm. “You’re looking better. I’m going to apply the ointment, okay?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Navarro smoothed a thick yellow paste over the woman’s arms, neck, and face. Puffy blisters covered every inch of her cheeks, enough that Joe had trouble guessing the woman’s age. She ran a hand over her short, kinky curls, making the hair stick out an inch from her scalp in all directions.

  Navarro applied the ointment to Mrs. Fonta’s ears, then patted her knee. “That’ll do it. Stay indoors until I can get you the DFI.” He removed
his gloves and gestured to Joe. “Thank you for helping.”

  Joe hadn’t done anything except shine the light. He nodded anyway. “No problem. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Fonta.”

  Joe and Navarro stepped out into the sunshine and headed north.

  “You did good.”

  Joe squirmed in the pleasure of Navarro’s praise. “Thanks, but I didn’t do anything.”

  “Keep being polite. That’s all we need.”

  Oh. Joe should have realized this was a ploy. “Did Lil even have mayoral duties today?”

  “She’s sleeping in. You’re helping me from now on. The more you’re out and about, doing good, the more at ease the town is with you. We start with you and work in the other boys over time. Build trust.”

  Joe stopped walking next to a violently orange house made of plastic storage tubs. “I’m not staying here. You understand that, right? You told me, even, that we needed to leave.”

  Navarro grunted. “That isn’t what I told you, nuevecito. You know you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met?”

  Joe had heard that from Navarro before. What followed was never complimentary. “Yeah.”

  “You’re also an idiot. You know that, too?”

  “You’re the only one who thinks so.”

  “I said you shouldn’t have come. I said I didn’t know what to do with you. That was all. Lili and I figured out a solution now, so you can stay. All your little traveling freak show friends can stay, too, even Muscles.”

  Damned Navarro. He would probably let Joe stay so they could be miserable together.

  Navarro pointed off to the east about a hundred feet across the highway. “See the greenhouse? I need to pick up something.”

  The greenhouse stretched almost as big as Navarro’s house. Clear film wrapped around the metal frame. A high, peaked roof with concave arcs on each side reminded Joe of his old church. Inside the greenhouse, rows and rows of plants grew, green and lush. Navarro rapped on the door and, when a young woman opened it, motioned for Joe to enter.

  The air in Joe’s lungs grew heavier. His skin prickled.

  “Weird, right?” Navarro said. He brushed beads of sweat from his upper lip. “It’s humid. Lots of water vapor in the air.”

  “I know what humid means.” Being with Navarro brought out Joe’s mostly tamed nerdy desires, made him act like the know-it-all kid he’d been in Mrs. Gomez’s third grade class, raising his hand and shouting out the answers to everything before any of the other kids got a chance.

  “Well, you get a gold star.”

  Joe wanted to steal Navarro’s cane and smack the smirk off his face. Instead, he ambled down a row of broad-leaved, furry-stemmed plants with yellow, five-point flowers attached to small, nubby...somethings. He ran his finger over one.

  “Cucumbers,” Navarro said from over Joe’s shoulder. “Taste good but make me burp. We’ve got these, carrots, acorn squash, strawberries, a few lemon trees, okra — which is disgusting, kale, spinach, potatoes, bell peppers, and green beans. We’re saving up for some more varieties of fruit.”

  “Where did you get all this?” Joe couldn’t picture the Sons hauling all these plants from wherever they got supplies. The greenhouse at the Flats had been big, but nothing like this.

  “New America. There are folks on the other side of the wall willing to order stuff for us if we pay them enough.” Navarro shrugged. “I told you, we’re not so primitive here.”

  “How do you get past the wall?”

  Navarro nodded to a woman on the other side of the row of cucumbers. “Cadia. How are you this morning?”

  Navarro stepped close, and pressure from his body bled into Joe. Not touch. Body heat. Expectations. Protection and warning. He wanted both to lean into Navarro and to pull away.

  The woman watched, her lined, smallish eyes flicking back and forth between Joe, Navarro, and the cucumbers, like she thought they were about to steal the food.

  “Cadia oversees the crops. Does a fine job.” Navarro pivoted so Joe was herded toward the rear of the greenhouse.

  Cadia followed. Graying hair brushed her shoulders as she walked. She might be the oldest person Joe had ever seen.

  “The plants look like they’re thriving,” he said.

  “Are you one of those New Americans from the entertainment console? I thought them guys wasn’t real.”

  From the corner of his eye, Joe caught Navarro’s grin, but he had no idea what the woman was talking about. “I’m from Texas Territory, ma’am. We had an entertainment console when I was young, but I haven’t seen a working one in almost ten years.”

  “Hmph. Well, I seen one ’bout six weeks ago. And them men don’t look real, but here you are.”

  “Here I am,” Joe echoed.

  Navarro snorted. “We need to head out. I’m checking on Tandaby. Do you have her package?”

  Cadia jerked her head toward the back door. Next to it sat a rickety-looking plastic table sitting on a piece of plywood with a handle stuck in it. “Over there. You be sure to tell that girl we ain’t made a money.”

  They reached the door. Navarro grabbed a small, neatly wrapped bundle from the table and ushered Joe outside.

  “What was she talking about?” Joe asked the moment they’d gotten far enough away from the greenhouse not to be overheard.

  “Greenhouse. Solar powered. Feeds most of the people in town.”

  Joe growled. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

  “I gotta get my kicks somehow, nuevecito.” Navarro grinned big, showed off his gleaming smile and dimples that formed vertical slits on his cheeks. “Cadia thinks you’re white and...” Navarro gestured to Joe’s face. “Attractive. Smoking. Bangable.”

  Joe wrinkled his nose. “Gross. She’s as old as my dad. Has to be. And I’m not white.”

  “Been there, known that. But I made that mistake, too, once upon a time, remember? You and your lying, Spanish-speaking, Mexican ass.”

  That had been a million years ago. It could have been yesterday. “Water under the bridge, right?”

  “Sure. I forgive you. You forgive me.”

  Joe reached for the missing part. The last sentence, the one Navarro couldn’t honestly say. I forgive myself. “What did Cadia mean about seeing an EC six weeks ago?”

  Navarro’s features darkened. “She’s one of them. Sons of America. They raid New American towns sometimes.”

  So it was possible to cross the border, even if it was done illegally. Joe pictured masked men and women breaking into homes, stealing. Terrorizing? He thought of Aria, her nose buried in a book, her mind a million miles away. “Will I see her?”

  Navarro followed Joe’s train of thought without dropping the beat. His voice came out gruff. “Probably. Small town.” He grimaced as his hand flitted to his knee. “So, Tandaby. She’s sixteen. Has a four-week-old baby. She’s afraid to leave her house, worried the kid’ll get sick.”

  “Is the father around?”

  “Damned if I know. The Sons don’t want me ordering contraceptives. Think we need to grow the town, strength in numbers and all. I tell the people how not to get pregnant, but you know how it is. People get bored and horny. They forget. They aren’t picky about partners. We all take care of each other, so it doesn’t serve much purpose to know who the actual dad is anyway. The baby belongs to the town.”

  The memory of baby Nina’s sweet face and chubby arms popped into Joe’s mind. Please, God, let them be okay. He reached for Navarro’s arm, then remembered who he was with and pulled his hand back. “You remember my friend Ebony?”

  “The girl you came to Flights of Fantasy with?”

  Navarro wouldn’t be asking if he’d seen her recently. Still, Joe needed to be sure. “She hasn’t been through here, has she? Her, a baby, a man.”

  “Why would she be?”

  Joe glanced around the shacks, checking to make sure he and Navarro were alone. A few people milled about, chatting or watching children play. Joe sp
otted the little girl who’d helped him find Lil and Navarro’s house. She waved and stuck out her tongue at him. He waved and stuck out his tongue, too. The girl laughed and turned back to her friends. Joe looked up into Navarro’s face. Three years had aged Navarro more than it had Joe. Small lines feathered out from his eyes. His skin had darkened. He was nearing thirty, though. Not many people made it that far.

  “Nuevecito? You gonna answer me?”

  Despite the absence of people nearby, Joe leaned closer. If it made Navarro uncomfortable, tough. He whispered, “Boggs stole Ebony’s baby. We got it back. Ebony and her partner left. I thought they might have been through here, traveling to New America.”

  Navarro sucked in a breath through his teeth. “When were you going to tell me?”

  “I’ve only been here twelve hours. It’s not like I’m hiding it from you.”

  Seconds ticked by as Joe and Navarro stared at each other. Eventually, Navarro closed his eyes and shook his head. “I haven’t seen your friend. But she probably didn’t come this way.”

  “Why wouldn’t she?”

  “Why would she? She’s black, right?”

  “So?”

  “So, dipshit, there’s nothing up there for her. You think the north is this fucking oasis.” Navarro smacked Joe’s arm with his cane. “Your stupid dad fed you nonsense. I don’t care how smart you are. You. Me. Your friend. We could be brilliant, decent, hard-working, and they wouldn’t want us. So why the hell do you want them?”

  Joe ran a hand over his face. If things were as simple as his father had said, why had he never come back for Joe? Maybe he was dead. Joe didn’t believe it. If he’d managed to stay alive in Austin for nine years, his dad had surely managed it in New America. He wanted to find his father. Not for some big happy reunion. He just needed to know.

  The rest of it — the going to New America, being a citizen — had been his dream for so long. What if the north was all a lie?

  “I don’t know,” he said quietly.