Flanked Read online

  Flix shook his head. “This is taking us so far out of the way. Why can’t we —”

  “We’re going to Purcell, Flix.” Joe put the light between his teeth and spread the map on the ground. “Quit trying to get me to change my mind.”

  Flix rolled his eyes, easy for Devin to see with the Nightsight on his vision shields, and crouched next to Joe. So close together, with matching expressions of frustration on their faces, Flix and Joe almost looked like brothers, too. Their curly black hair and slight frames, their smart eyes. Joe’s lips were fuller, Flix’s skin darker. Flix’s rounded face still belonged to a boy while Joe was all sharp angles. Flix was cute. Joe was gorgeous. But close enough. All four of Devin’s companions could be family, they looked so much alike. A pang of longing hit. Tanner had shared Devin’s hair and eyes. He’d been a bit leaner, but if anyone had ever seen them, it would have been obvious they were brothers.

  Flix swatted at the map. “But we could save time if we didn’t veer west.”

  Devin had never heard Flix disagree with Joe before. A big part of him agreed. Heading out of their way to find some mystery friend who may or may not be alive sounded like a colossally stupid idea, especially when they were already so short of food that Joe and Devin had eaten little more than crumbs today. But Devin didn’t know how to read a map, and he’d put his faith in Joe a long time ago.

  “You don’t know that.” Joe moved Flix’s hand out of the way. “If you don’t like it, you can go the other way. I’m going to Purcell.”

  “Damn.” Devin hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but well, damn.

  Joe sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Look, making sure my friends are okay is important to me.” He glanced at Devin, Marcus, and Peter before returning his attention to Flix. “All of you, I think they could help us. I can’t force you to come with me. It’s your choice. But I’m going, unless Devin —”

  Kissing out here with strangers around was a bad idea, so Devin gently kneed Joe’s back. “I’m with you wherever you go.”

  Flix stood up and spoke to his brother and Peter. “The three of us are in this together. But I trust Joe, and I’m willing to go with him if you are.”

  Peter and Marcus both took a step back. Marcus’s eyes widened, and he shook his head as though surprised he was being asked. Peter’s eyes were hidden behind the other pair of vision shields, but Devin imagined he looked as bewildered as Marcus. They put their heads together and whispered for a few seconds before Marcus said, “We trust you guys.”

  “Good, ’cause...” Movement behind Joe and Flix caught Devin’s eye. He ripped the long gun off his back and aimed it at what turned out to be two men pulling a cart. Grown men, too, with long hair, beards, and hard, weathered faces, not teenagers like him and Joe. He released the safety, and the men’s hands shot up. “That’s close enough. Move along.”

  To his right, he heard Marcus position the second rifle. Like they’d practiced, Peter pressed back to back with Devin. Part of the point was to keep everyone safe. Another part was to keep Devin and Peter’s pale faces hidden. The hoods on their jackets helped, but they needed to take every precaution.

  Marcus came into view, pivoting in a circle. “All clear, boss. They’re alone.”

  Joe slowly got to his feet, tugged Flix with him, and moved closer to Devin.

  The taller of the two strangers spoke in rapid-fire Spanish, his beady eyes shifting from Joe to the guns to the broken overpass and back. Some of the tension went out of Joe’s shoulders.

  “What’s he saying?” Peter whispered.

  “He wants to know if we’d like to make a trade,” Flix said.

  Joe answered the man in Spanish, and again, Flix interpreted. “Joe says we might be interested. Depends on what they’ve got.”

  The conversation continued in Spanish. Flix jumped in occasionally and translated as Joe asked for outlandish items — dental dams, arm-mounted missiles, and copper-plated underwear — that had the men shaking their heads. The men wanted a gun and the vision shields. Joe said no. The more weird things Joe asked for the more interested the men seemed to be. Finally, he sighed like he was disappointed and asked for food. The men eyed one another, then uncovered the lower shelf of their cart. Insta-food bars lined the entire surface. Devin’s stomach growled loudly enough that everyone turned to look at him. The taller man shook his hair back and started talking again.

  “He says you seem awfully hungry.” Flix touched Devin’s side. “He wants both guns.”

  Joe had the VICE-shot in his pocket. Devin had given it to him when he and Marcus had taken ownership of the rifles. They could survive without the long guns if they had to. Devin hated guns, but he’d found they were less scary in his hands than in someone else’s. He didn’t plan on letting go of the rifles.

  “Joe’s offering him rash cream.”

  Rash cream didn’t seem incentive enough to part with food, but the man eyed Joe for several seconds before answering. Joe threw his face to the night sky and laughed.

  “What’d he say?” Peter asked.

  Flix cringed and glanced at Devin before he answered. “He says Joe’s got a nice mouth. He’d take other forms of payment.”

  Devin growled. “He does understand we have guns? We could just shoot his ass and take his shit?”

  “Joe’s telling him that right now.”

  “Tell Joe to tell that asshole I’m about three seconds away from blowing his brains out.”

  Joe jerked and stared at Devin. “I understand English. And get a grip. Remember who you are.” He returned to his bartering.

  Devin’s breath stuttered as Joe’s words hit him harder than a punch. Who he was? Joe’s lover. Tanner’s brother. And Tanner had died because some idiot with a gun hadn’t exercised restraint.

  “It’s okay,” Flix whispered. He petted Devin’s back. “Whatever it is that’s making you scared, you’re not what you’re seeing in your head.”

  “You don’t know.”

  “I know you.” Flix said it so simply, like that was the end of the argument, irrefutable.

  Devin couldn’t fathom what Flix thought he knew. Hell, Flix hated him. Well, was jealous of him, at least. “Thanks.”

  Flix nodded and petted Devin a few more times. “Joe’s done. He’s made a deal.”

  Joe moved behind Devin, nudged Peter sideways, and withdrew something from the pack on Peter’s back. When he came back into Devin’s line of sight, he had the rash cream and a roll of the green money they’d used for poker back at the Flats. Joe pulled Flix forward with him, and the men filled their hands with enough Insta-food bars to last a week.

  The taller man patted Joe’s arm, then he and his companion dragged their cart away. Everyone watched them go. When they’d disappeared into the night, Devin replaced the safety on the gun and slipped the awful thing onto his back. Joe and Flix shoved the food bars into the backpacks.

  “Well, that was weird,” Marcus said. “Let’s get out of here.” Before Devin could remind him, Marcus backed away in the direction they’d been heading and toppled right over the edge of the fallen-in overpass.

  ***

  For a moment, the world stood still. No one moved. No one seemed to breathe. And all Flix processed was the surprised face of his brother as he disappeared over the edge of the road.

  Movement to his left and right. Shouts. Someone grabbed his hand and dragged him away, down a slope, over a barricade, onto dirt sprinkled with dead grass. Running. Dirt gave way to sand.

  There.

  Marcus lay on his side, panting, eyes screwed shut. Alive.

  Flix sucked in a breath. The world rushed in again. Joe on his knees next to Marcus, touching, asking quiet questions, his face a mask of concentration. Devin with his weapon drawn, checking that they wouldn’t be robbed while distracted. Peter watching it all, his dry heaves almost enough to cover the sound of his tears.

  Marcus screamed.

  Joe looked up, met Flix’s eyes.
Said something.

  So far away. Why were they all so far away? Why was he so far away?

  Big hands on his shoulders. Push. Push. Marcus got closer. Shove down. Knees in the sand, avoiding Marcus’s sick. Flix reached out, held his brother’s cold hand. Shallow breathing. Strong pulse.

  “Hey.” Hand on his jaw, holding him steady. Joe. “He’s going to be okay. Does he have any allergies?”

  Flix opened and closed his mouth.

  Joe rattled a bottle in his face. “I have pills to help with the pain. But I need to know if he has any allergies so I don’t accidentally make things worse.”

  “He’s... He’s never taken pills.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Any kind of allergies? Foods?”

  “No. Not... No.”

  Joe shook a little green pill out of the bottle and shoved it in Marcus’s mouth. “Lift his head.”

  Flix did, and Joe pushed the lip of the water jug to Marcus, who managed a sip. Flix shifted so Marcus’s head laid in his lap. He stroked the hair away from Marcus’s face. Long and thick, the strands tangled in his hands. He scraped his fingers up the shaved sides, which were growing out now, almost long enough to grasp, and they’d only been gone a little over a week. Please don’t die. Someone laid a sleeping bag over Marcus. One settled over Flix’s shoulders, too. He realized he was shaking. And crying.

  He lost track of how long he sat in the sand, holding Marcus’s head, playing with his hair. The others talked quietly, Joe and Devin having a conversation while Peter watched. At some point, Marcus relaxed, his body loosened, and he opened his eyes.

  “Holá, hermano.” Like Marcus had no energy to put into the words. “Hurts.”

  Flix slashed the tears from his own face and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry. Joe gave you some pain pills.”

  “I’m gonna be fine, Flix.”

  “Yeah. You are.” Flix hoped he wasn’t lying. “Rest.”

  Marcus’s eyelids fluttered. He smiled a little and went to sleep.

  Joe kneeled next to Flix and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “We need to keep going.”

  Flix reeled. “You’re leaving us?”

  “No.” Joe’s tone remained gentle. “No. We’re all going to help carry Marcus out of here. We’re going to walk night and day, rest as little as possible. My friends in Purcell, one of them knows how to treat broken bones.”

  “Is that what’s wrong with him?” Broken bones were nothing. They could be fixed.

  “It’s what I can see.” Joe hesitated. “His foot, I think. I don’t think we should take off his shoe.”

  “Okay, sure. That’s —”

  “Also his leg, Flix. His arm. More could be wrong.”

  Flix crumbled. His crying turned into sobs so sharp he couldn’t see or breathe. Joe’s arm around his shoulder squeezed tighter, and he was lifted away from Marcus and curled into Joe’s body. He pressed his head against Joe’s chest and let himself be manhandled. They ended up standing, Joe’s strong arms wrapped around him, fingers slipping up and down his back, over the mostly healed cuts there. Joe whispered comforting nonsense words and rocked him back and forth like a baby.

  Another warm hand rested on his back. He looked up and found Devin. “We got the sleeping bag under him. I left the foot thing for you to do.”

  “Thanks, papi.” To Flix, Joe said, “I need to finish up so we can head out. Are you going to be okay?”

  Not really. But every moment they waited on Flix to get his act together was a moment longer it would take them to get Marcus help. Flix worked to slow his breathing and calm his tears. “I’m ready.”

  He half-watched as Joe tied a weird knot in the sleeping bag to bring together the two corners near Marcus’s feet. Joe explained they’d be able to carry Marcus three at a time, so they could always have one person taking a break. Devin slipped the other sleeping bag from Flix’s shoulders and used it to cover Marcus. He surprised Flix by removing his slick black coat and helping Flix into it. Devin stood in front of Flix and zipped the coat up to his chin, then pulled the hood over Flix’s head. Remnants of Devin’s body heat made the coat soothingly warm.

  Too late, Flix said, “I can’t take your coat.”

  Devin smiled. “You didn’t. I gave it.” He put his hands on Flix’s shoulders and squeezed. “Let’s go.”

  On shaky legs, Flix set out, praying all the while.

  ***

  In the dark, the lake glittered like a goldmine. Joe had never seen a body of water so big. If Marcus wasn’t hurt, Joe would strip off his clothes and wade out there, let the water cleanse him. As things stood, he had to be practical. They’d carried Marcus until they were ready to drop, slept a while, then headed out again. Between the extra effort and Marcus’s need to stay hydrated, they had less than a quarter of their water left.

  “I’m going to go down and get some water,” he said.

  Devin twisted from his place at Marcus’s feet to look back at Joe and wrinkled his nose. “Where?”

  “Down in that lake.”

  Devin squinted in the direction Joe pointed. “I see a lake bed. No water.”

  “It’s farther out. But it’s there.”

  While Devin scanned the area, Joe pulled out the water jugs. “I’m taking Flix.”

  Flix’s head jerked up from where he’d been staring at his unconscious brother. “I want to stay with Marcus.”

  Joe should have realized. “That’s fine. I’ll head down and —”

  “I don’t see any goddamned water,” Devin snapped. “And you’re not going anywhere alone. Jesus, Joe, you’re supposed to be the one with common sense.”

  Joe sighed. Maybe Devin’s vision hadn’t fully improved. He should have been able to see the water, especially with the Nightsight. “Peter, do you see the water?”

  Peter jumped like he was surprised he’d been consulted. Since people still milled about in this suburban area north of Dallas, he was wearing the other pair of vision shields to hide his green eyes. He’d be able to see better than the others.

  “I see it. Yes. Like stars on the ground.”

  “Good. Thanks. Let’s set Marcus down along the frontage road, and Peter and I can go fill up the jugs.”

  Joe could tell Devin didn’t like it, and to tell the truth, he wasn’t thrilled about Peter being his field trip buddy. Either Joe or Devin needed to stay with Marcus, though, and Flix wasn’t mentally prepared to be separated from his brother. That left Peter.

  “Me?” Peter asked.

  The highway crossed the lake bed over a dry inlet, so they’d have an easy enough time getting to the water. Joe smiled encouragingly. “It’ll be fine.”

  Devin grumbled but kept his mouth shut.

  They veered off the main lanes of the highway and onto the secondary road, where they laid Marcus on a smooth patch of pavement. Before Joe could take more than a couple of steps, Devin blocked his path.

  “Gimme the rifle.”

  Joe had taken the rifle Marcus had been carrying when he went over the ledge. Thank God it hadn’t gone off when Marcus fell. Joe pulled it off his shoulder and handed it over.

  Devin lowered his voice. “I’m gonna show Flix how to use it while you’re gone. I’m not sure it’s the greatest idea, but neither of us can use two guns at once, and that leaves one weapon useless unless we teach Flix or Peter how to shoot.”

  “We don’t know how to shoot these. Not for sure.”

  “We’re pretty sure. And we look like we know what we’re doing. I figure that’ll keep most people at a distance.” Devin pulled Joe into an embrace and kissed him lightly. “Be careful down there. Don’t start any fires.”

  Joe held up two fingers. “Prostitute’s honor.” He nodded to Peter and headed down the slope to the lake bed. Joking about the fire wasn’t what he would have chosen; guilt still gnawed at him. But he needed to let it go, or at least accept that he couldn’t change what had already happened. Devin was good at reminding him of things l
ike that.

  Thank God Devin had let go of his anger toward Joe. That loss of trust, even beyond any romantic relationship, had been so hard to take. Funny how Joe had spent so long alone, only focused on getting to his father, and Devin had come along and turned his world upside down in a couple of months. Everything was more complicated now, but Joe would never go back to the disaffected man he’d been.

  A quiet sniffle disrupted his thoughts.

  “Is Marcus going to die?” Peter asked.

  His quiet voice barely reached Joe’s ears. He was walking a few steps behind, so Joe turned and waited for him to catch up. “Why would you say that? I already said he’d be okay.”

  Peter removed the vision shields. His eyes sparkled with tears. “You said that because Flix was blasted.”

  “You mean he was upset?”

  Peter nodded and toed a crack in the lake bed.

  “I don’t lie.” Much. Joe backed up and tried again. “I’m trying really hard not to lie or withhold the truth. Doing stuff like that caused a lot of trouble, and I made a promise to Devin to do better. If I tell you something, it’s true.”

  “I don’t know you.”

  “I guess not.” Joe reached out to touch Peter’s elbow so they’d start walking again, but Peter shied away. Joe walked, and Peter followed. If Peter wanted Joe’s life story, he was about to be disappointed. Only two people had ever known all of it, and one of them was dead. Joe traced the V-shaped scar on his elbow.

  “Thank you.”

  Joe hadn’t expected that. “For what?”

  “The ants. I never said thank you. But I do. Appreciate it.”

  “How’s the itching?”

  Peter chuckled without humor. “Feels like I’m in hell. But I can’t really...” He gestured back toward the road. “Marcus. My parents. Ant bites... I shouldn’t complain.”

  “You’re allowed to express what’s going on with you, Peter.”

  They reached the edge of the water. The air felt thicker down here, more humid. The slight breeze slipped around them, bringing with it the smell of dead fish and something a little less pungent, more earthy. But the moon glinting off the water? The gentle, lapping waves? So peaceful.