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  When the last of the loose dirt had been put into place, they walked away in pairs, Joe and Peter, Lil and Navarro, Devin and Flix. Once, Joe glanced back at the mounded grave. Aria knelt at the edge. Joe turned around and kept walking.

  Back at the house, Lil moved about blindly, setting out food. Flix fell asleep on the couch almost instantly, his head in Devin’s lap. Devin stopped his slow stroking of Flix’s hair to squeeze Joe’s hand as he walked past.

  “Come, nuevecito,” Navarro said. “It’s time you let me tend to your shoulder.”

  Joe followed Navarro to the exam room, relieved to escape the crush of grief, to do something, even if it was just to grit his teeth against the pain of Navarro’s exam. He turned down pain pills when Navarro offered them. He would save those in case someone needed them later.

  Joe sat on the metal table where he’d held Marcus down while Navarro had fixed his broken bones. Had he promised Marcus it would be okay?

  “He would have died,” Navarro said, drawing Joe back to the present. “He would have died if you hadn’t brought him here. I’m going to cut your shirt off.”

  Joe nodded at the scissors. “But...”

  Navarro shook his head. “No but.” He took a shaky breath and started cutting. “And she would have died, too, if not for you. If you hadn’t helped us buy her those glasses, she would’ve never been able to survive all this time.”

  “No.”

  “It doesn’t matter in the end. It’s not enough. But you did help them.” Navarro slipped the shirt over Joe’s shoulders and picked up a spray bottle of Antisep. “It’s gonna hurt.”

  “Good. It’s my fault they —” Joe broke off as Navarro squirted the liquid onto the wound, first in front, then in the back. He hissed, then clamped his mouth shut so he didn’t scream when Navarro dug in with tweezers and pulled out flecks of fabric the bullet had taken with it on the journey through Joe’s shoulder.

  “Should have taken the pain pills, dumb shit.” Navarro looked up and smiled, but his eyes were full of tears. “I just lost the closest I will ever have to a child. And you are the only brother I will ever know, so please...”

  “I’m so sorry,” Joe rasped.

  “Please don’t make my pain worse by talking about things that are not your fault. I need to ask you for one last favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “Two favors.” Navarro held up a needle in one hand and a patch in the other.

  The patch would make it look like Joe had never been shot. He pointed to the needle; he wanted a scar, a reminder.

  Navarro nodded and put the patch back in a drawer. He picked up a syringe and popped it into a vein at Joe’s elbow. Once he’d collected a vial of blood, he added a clear liquid to the vial, changed out the syringe needle for a blunt-tipped applicator, and inserted it into the cavity the bullet had made. The warm flow of the bloody solution didn’t hurt, but it nauseated Joe all the same.

  “It’s a formula to promote healing using the platelets in your plasma,” Navarro said. “You’ll have to take it easy and get some exercise with your arm every day, but you should heal fine. So, the favors. First, sleep before you leave.”

  “Okay.”

  Navarro started on the stitches. His fingers on Joe’s skin felt warmer than Joe had expected, and the rhythmic sting of the needle and pull of the thread felt like maybe Navarro could stitch Joe back together, make him whole again.

  “Take Aria with you.” Navarro didn’t look up from his work.

  “No.”

  “It’s the only way to keep her safe.”

  Joe couldn’t. Wouldn’t do that to Flix. “It’s her fault Sadie and Marcus are in a grave.”

  Navarro’s eyes flared. “I thought you did that.”

  Joe had no response.

  “There’s plenty of blame for all of us,” Navarro said. “But once the townspeople figure out that Aria killed all those Sons, and they will, they will kill her. You have to take her away.”

  “Lil’s the mayor. Can’t she protect her?”

  Navarro’s gaze shifted to the door. His voice dropped low. “Lili’s angry right now, nuevecito. She’ll come around; I know she will. But if I don’t get Aria out of here, Lili may do something she’ll regret.” Navarro laid a hand on Joe’s good shoulder. “I need you. Please.”

  Joe couldn’t say no to Navarro. But he had his own family to look after. “Flix. He’ll never forgive me. He might kill Aria in her sleep. She might kill him. You didn’t see her, Navarro, the way she looked at him last night.”

  Navarro shook his head. “They need guidance, both of them. Sanders did a number on Aria, and the boy, he needs help growing into a man. You are the one who can help them.”

  Joe didn’t believe that for a second. Flix and Aria were both stubborn asses. The only way they’d learn was through experience. Aria didn’t deserve their help. But if Navarro was right, and she would be killed for murdering the Sons, when Joe had the ability to take her away and try to keep her safe... Maybe Sadie and Marcus’s deaths weren’t exactly his fault, but Aria’s would be. “I need to talk to Devin.”

  “I’ll have him come back here.” Navarro turned at the door. “Joe? I’ll miss you.”

  Joe ached for hearing Navarro tell him that. “I’ll miss you, too.”

  Navarro nodded and left. Joe pressed his palms to the cool metal of the exam table. Goosebumps spread up his arms and across his shoulders. The smooth surface reminded him of the wall. When the sun set, he was walking past that wall, into New America, and never coming back. A week ago, crossing that line had been his biggest worry. Now, he couldn’t summon any fear, any excitement, just the numb certainty that none of it really mattered.

  Devin poked his head in and offered Joe a grim smile. “Hey.”

  Just seeing him kick-started Joe’s sluggish heart. He patted the table next to him, and Devin limped over and hopped up. Joe’s goosebumps melted away, and all the pinpricks of sorrow and guilt that had stung his head and heart, they eased a tiny bit. “Hey.”

  Devin ran careful fingertips over the skin around Joe’s newly stitched wound. “You got shot.”

  Now the pinpricks were in Joe’s eyes and throat, and he laid his head on Devin’s shoulder and let a few tears escape. “I did. It’s so absurd.”

  “Don’t do it again, asshole.”

  Joe chuckled. “Don’t get your stupid self kidnapped again.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, and Joe reveled in the comfort. He’d take this feeling, this thing that wasn’t happiness but kept him warm all the same, as long as he could.

  Devin sighed. “Flix is a mess. I don’t know how to help him.”

  “You’re helping him already. Keep doing what you are, and when he needs something different, we’ll figure it out.”

  “Marcus was a good kid. It hurts so much, losing your brother.”

  Joe remembered how lost and broken Devin had been when he told Joe about how his brother, Tanner, had died. Maybe Devin would be the one to help Flix and Aria.

  “I have to ask you something,” Joe said, “and you won’t like it, but I think it’s what we have to do.”

  “Just say it.”

  “We have to take Aria with us.”

  Devin climbed off the table and stood in front of Joe with his hands on his hips. “That’s a mistake. You’ll wreck Flix. Peter, too.”

  “Navarro asked me to. I owe him.”

  “God damn it, Joe. We owe him. It’s a mistake. A big one.” Devin put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. “I’ll back you up on this, do what you want, but it’s gonna mess everything up.”

  “Everything is already messed up.” Joe jumped down from the table and slipped his hands around Devin’s waist. He kissed his lips, savoring the softness, the connection. “I love you. That’s the only thing that’s not messed up.”

  Devin’s arms wrapped around Joe, pulling him close. Joe needed this, needed Devin. Needed to sleep tangled in his arms. To
night, they’d set out for Minneapolis.

  ***

  They left Purcell at sunset. Joe held Devin’s hand openly, not caring about offending the townspeople who’d come out to gawk at their departure. On his other side, Navarro limped along. He’d insisted on walking Joe and the others to the wall. Joe wished he’d stayed home. His presence prolonged the goodbye, made it worse.

  Just outside town, Aria joined them. She fell in step next to Peter and walked on. Didn’t look at them. Didn’t talk to them.

  No one talked to her, either.

  Joe had been in noisier funeral processions. Complete silence, except for the soft thump of Navarro’s cane and Flix’s stuffy breathing, which was muffled somewhat by Devin’s shoulder. Joe hadn’t expected to come to New America like this.

  Just like the first day they’d seen the wall, the closer they got, the higher it loomed. Marcus should have been here with them, cracking jokes. Sadie should be home making dinner and yapping that sassy mouth.

  Liliana was home alone after refusing to get out of bed to say one more goodbye, and instead of Marcus, they were traveling with Aria.

  The wall snuck up on them so quickly. Before he was ready, or maybe far past it, Joe found himself watching Navarro say goodbye.

  Navarro shook the boys’ hands, Peter and Devin, reminded Devin again how to manage with that sprained ankle. Flix didn’t respond when Navarro reached for him, so he just patted his shoulder. He moved on to Aria and dipped his head to catch her eyes. “Aria Diana Benitez Ramirez...” His voice choked, and he didn’t finish.

  Aria acted like she hadn’t heard.

  Navarro gathered her into his arms and kissed her forehead. When she shuddered and whispered something against his chest, Navarro nodded. He let her go and turned to Joe.

  They stood there like fools, too stupid or proud to say what they needed to. Joe knew it while he was letting it happen.

  “Take care of yourself,” Navarro told him.

  “You, too.” Joe waved.

  Navarro nodded and made his way back toward Purcell.

  Joe would never see him again; he knew it as certainly as he knew Sadie and Marcus were dead. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of men Joe had known in his lifetime. Only three had mattered. And he was leaving one behind.

  Joe looked at the wall again. Its mammoth size and cold surface made it beautiful, in a way. An engineering marvel, almost as impressive as his father’s domes. Three men. One walking away. Joe was walking toward another. The third walked beside him.

  Joe walked through the gap in the wall, onto New American soil, and promised himself he was going home.

  SIXTEEN

  Two days after leaving Purcell, noontime sun fell warm and welcome on Joe’s face as he walked a ribbon of highway through Oklahoma City, leading a single-file line of mourners. They walked slowly because of Devin’s sprained ankle, and because of Flix and Aria’s broken hearts.

  Joe’s heart wasn’t faring much better.

  Crossing the border hadn’t improved their circumstances. If New Americans had a better world, it was well hidden inside buildings clotting with red dirt and bleeding out broken windows. He hadn’t seen any evidence of electricity, aside from a few homes and buildings with intact solar panels. No transportation, either. But the air was different here, more charged, more alert. If Joe wasn’t crushed inside, he’d be excited.

  Three women on bicycles whizzed past, pedaling fast then coasting down an exit ramp. Joe hadn’t ridden a bike since he was a child, and even though he’d seen them from time to time in Austin, they were everywhere here. Sweet and childlike, Marcus would have loved the bikes more than any of them.

  A warm, bready scent reached Joe’s nose. His stomach rumbled. He stopped and turned to his companions. Aria walked ten feet behind him, her eyes almost swollen shut with tears. Behind her, Peter acted as a buffer. At the back, so far away that Joe couldn’t see their faces, Flix and Devin shuffled along.

  “Peter, are you hungry?” Joe’s voice came out raspy from disuse.

  Peter glanced warily at Aria, then stepped around her, breaking the careful order they’d maintained since they’d set out. “I could eat.”

  “Once Devin and Flix catch up —”

  “Do you smell that?” Peter asked.

  It would be hard not to. “Bread.”

  Peter shook his head. “I mean, it smells fresh, like someone’s baking.” He grabbed Joe’s arm and pointed. “Look, there’s smoke coming out of that building.”

  Down the ramp the cycling women had used sat a squat, flat-roofed brick building painted bright red. Two dozen bikes leaned against the exterior walls, and two small SDVs were parked on the cracked concrete lot nearby. A faraway, niggling memory stirred in Joe’s mind.

  “I think it’s a restaurant,” Peter said. “Do you think we can go in? I have some money on my chip, and maybe they won’t care that you’re Mexican if you’re with white people. We might have to pretend you’re my servant.”

  “I...I don’t... Restaurant?” Joe shrugged. He’d heard the word somewhere but couldn’t place it.

  “You know? Where they make food for you and you eat it?”

  Peter wrinkled his brow with something that could be pity, and Joe felt his face heat. Now that they were in New America, they’d need to rely on Peter’s knowledge a lot more; Joe would have to get used to admitting what he didn’t know. “Like a cafeteria?”

  “I guess. A cafeteria is more like a kind of restaurant. Restaurants usually have a theme, serve some specific kind of food — Korean, Italian, ethnic Canadian, Mexican...”

  The tug of memory fell into place, and Joe saw his father sitting across a table from him. His curly brown hair kept falling over his glasses, and he held a thick piece of paper, telling a lady that he wanted carnitas and “black bean tacos for my son.” The lady took the paper and left, and the sad smile his dad offered made Joe uncertain.

  “At this place, they make them just like your mama made,” his dad said.

  Joe had nodded like that made it okay, like he didn’t miss his mama.

  Joe startled at a touch on his elbow and focused on Aria’s splotchy face. He took a step away from her.

  “White men won’t feed us, and your plastic boys are going to get the shit kicked out of them.”

  Still lagging behind, Devin had his arm around Flix’s shoulders. Devin’s limp was pronounced, and he obviously needed help walking. Aria was right, though. Someone here could decide two males shouldn’t be hanging on each other like that. Especially when one of them wasn’t white.

  “Peter,” Joe said, “run back and see if you can give Flix a break and get Devin to hurry a little faster.”

  Peter jogged away, and Joe grabbed Aria’s arm and yanked her hard. “Do not call them names.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Joe,” Aria snapped and jerked her arm away. “Is there a name you’d like better? I don’t want to hurt your precious feelings.”

  “Not from you. Silence from you would be just fine.”

  Aria’s nostrils flared, but just as quickly as her anger had risen, it died away. She looked down. “You used to be my friend.”

  “After what you did to your family?” Joe dropped his voice so Flix wouldn’t hear. “To Marcus? You’re here because I care about Navarro. That’s it. You threw away my friendship just like you threw away your family.”

  Aria recoiled but didn’t say anything else. Flix drifted into Joe’s path and kept walking. Their shoulders bumped, and Flix didn’t react.

  Joe rolled his shoulder, wincing at the sharp sting that lingered whenever someone touched his gunshot wound. “Hey, Flix, are you hungry?” He didn’t dare mention the restaurant, not when Aria might be right. No sense getting anyone’s hopes up.

  Flix didn’t answer, not that Joe had expected him to. Instead, Peter slipped past, muttering, “I got him,” and guided Flix down the ramp. Aria followed at a distance, and Joe waited for Devin to catch up.

  “Ankl
e hurts like a bitch,” Devin said as soon as he pulled near. “Flix is bad off.”

  Joe closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Devin stunk of sweat, but under that, he smelled like Devin, and that was enough to give Joe comfort. They weren’t even sleeping together at night because they had to take turns standing guard. Aria would probably run off if she had to stand guard, Flix couldn’t be trusted not to kill Aria, and Peter was too scared. “Sorry about your ankle. Do you want to take something? Navarro stocked me up with medicine. Also, we’re going to try to get something to eat from in there.” Joe pointed to the building. “It’s possible they won’t serve us. Likely, even.”

  “Let’s find out. And I’ll be fine. What about Flix?”

  “You’re doing great with him.”

  Devin brushed his knuckles over Joe’s hand. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too. I wish you’d taken the crutches when Navarro offered them.”

  “Nah. They would have reminded Flix of Marcus. I’ll be okay.”

  They reached the restaurant, where the rest of the group loitered outside. Aria and Peter were examining the bikes. Flix leaned against the wall, looking at nothing. Joe was relieved when Devin put his hand on Flix’s shoulder and guided him toward the door.

  “Wait,” Joe said. “Let Peter and me go first.” He pulled on the door and followed Peter inside. The low lighting made it seem more like twilight than noon, and it took a moment for Joe’s eyes to adjust. Four rows of brightly covered tables marched to the back of the room. Most were occupied, and Joe was relieved to see people of a variety of skin tones. He headed for an empty table near the entrance when a dark-skinned woman in a weird cylindrical dress bustled in from the back and held up her hand.

  “Two, sir?”

  Joe had no idea what the woman was referencing. He glanced at Peter, who mouthed, “Five.”

  “Oh.” Joe turned back to the woman and gestured to his group. “Five.”

  The woman’s eyes roamed behind Joe, probably sizing up Devin, Aria, and Flix. She grimaced and shook her head. “Over here, then.” She led them to a table on the far side of the room, at the very back.

  Dark brown ring-shaped stains dotted the table covering. Joe put his hand on one of the plastic chairs and it came away sticky. He’d eaten at worse. He pulled up a fifth chair and motioned for Peter to sit there, while he and Aria took one longer side of the table and Devin and Flix took the other.