FERN

I was still wiping sleep from my eyes when Tex walked into my camp the next morning. He had a pack slung over his shoulder and an apple in his hand. His smile was the usual one he wore when he'd meet me in the garden.

I blinked at him, searching his face as he drew nearer. He didn't look any different. He wasn't acting any different. Had I dreamed that kiss, or was I still asleep now, wishfully imagining that everything was back to normal?

Tex reached inside his heavy leather jacket, grabbed another apple, and tossed it to me. "Mornin', Darlin'." He plopped down beside me and took a large, crunching bite of his own. "What do you say we go huntin' today? Get somethin' big to eat."

"Where did you find apples?" It was last on the lengthy list of questions I had for him. First being why he'd left.

I hadn't imagined his hands; the way they'd slid across my back and pinned me close. His kiss had been eager yet tender, unbelievably soft. I hadn't expected that. The couple of times I'd caught John kissing a girl, he'd looked ready to eat her face off. But Tex didn't do any of that. The way he'd moved, light, artful, like dancing. His tongue had caressed and touched and disappeared in perfect time with a song I couldn't hear, and I wanted to try again. I wanted to listen harder and learn which notes I was meant to play.

It'd been perfect. All of it. How could a man give a girl a kiss like that and then get upset? If he didn't want to, he could have said no. He could have left when I'd given him the chance. But he hadn't. He was the one who pulled me back when I tried to walk away. He'd lifted me up and said he didn't want to stop. He'd wanted to do more.

Then, he'd all but ran away from me.

Yet, here he was, not a dream and smiling like all was fine, and it was just another day. "Some of the men went out and found an old abandoned property full of apple trees." He took another bite and chewed. "So, huntin'?"

"I need to get water for the garden."

"Already done." He tossed the apple core into the brush. "C'mon, Darlin." Each word was stretched, like a child begging for a treat. "I've had the berries." He nudged my arm with his. "I'm ready for the steak."

I dipped away to retrieve my bow and hide my burning cheeks. "We can give it a shot, but there's no guarantee we'll find anything," I said. This was normal. It was the deal we'd made. And just like this deal, he'd shown me something the night before. That was all it was, a moment, my memory to keep. A twinge of disappointment clenched my chest, but I couldn't explain why. That was what I'd wanted. He'd given me what I'd asked for. As far as first kisses went, I felt confident that it couldn't have been any better. Then what? Was I still being greedy, like I had the night before?

Tex took my pack from me, then watched me gather my arrows. "Julia wanted me to thank you again, for being such a good witch." He slung my pack over the same shoulder he carried his own on, and despite there being two of them, they looked insignificant compared to his size.

"It was fun." I stepped ahead. "It reminded me of before."  We weaved through the trees and over the brush, alternating who led by whoever had less obstacles. It'd been more than fun. It'd been a miracle. A perfect day from beginning to end. I'd laughed and been surprised and made a memory for two kids to carry into whatever after awaited them. I smiled.

Tex dipped beneath a branch and caught up to my side. "You say that a lot. Before. But you barely talk about it." His gaze found mine as we maneuvered through the brush. "What was your life like then? What led to you being out here alone?"

That day. Just the mention of it brought dark thoughts I knew would cripple me. They'd crippled me in the beginning. They'd almost made me unable to survive that first winter. It'd only been Daddy's voice urging me that kept my head just above the surface. I didn't talk about that day. I didn't think about it. "Why'd you leave so quick last night?"

"Because I didn't want to leave at all."

I stopped walking and stared at him. The answer had rolled from his lips so quick and easy, as if he'd been waiting for me to ask it since he'd arrived. He wanted to stay the night? I imagined what that would mean, more touching, more kissing, maybe even whatever came after. Would I have wanted that? More firsts. More experiences to have to help balance out the bad. "You could have asked..."

He groaned and pushed ahead. "No, Darlin'. I couldn't have."

I picked up my pace to catch up to him. "Why not?" He was being so weird, hot and cold. He wanted this; he didn't want this. He wanted to stay; he needed to leave. I wished I could ask Mama. She would know. She'd understand. She'd always seemed to know what was bothering Daddy, even when he got in his quiet moods. "I know I got a little aggressive," I said, desperate to clear the air and shake away the guilt. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

He laughed. "You made me uncomfortable, alright, but not in the way you're thinkin'." He stopped and turned to look down at me. "You're serious that nobody ever kissed you, not even a little?" He scanned my face. "Didn't you have any boys you liked at that church you were telling me about? Some nice kid from a nice family with a nice thick Bible in his hand?"

"It wasn't exactly a priority," I said. He didn't have to be so blunt about it. It wasn't like I wanted to be twenty and not know these things. It hadn't been by choice. "I had other things to worry about."

"Like what?" He stepped closer.

I started walking again. "There was a boy from my church, though. Jimmy Johnson. He came from a good family, like you said, and he was nice. He used to hold my hand whenever we'd walk home together."

Tex kept pace just behind me. "Held your hand, huh?" He reached forward and took mine, bringing me back to his side. "Like this?"

Another zing did cartwheels inside my chest. Just one touch, and I was done for. All I'd felt from Jimmy's hand was soft skin and warm sweat. "It was different." I peeked up at him, then focused on my steps as the brush got more dense.

"How is that?" He kept his grip secure and lifted my arm to help me balance over a log.

"For starters, yours is much bigger."

He stopped so sharp, I almost stumbled. His smile was wide and boyish. "Gee, Darlin', keep that up, and it may just be me that's blushin'."

I furrowed my brow at him. Because his hand was bigger? He was a grown man, and massive. Of course it was. "I don't understand."

He snorted and tugged me along. "The line is just ahead. Once we pass it, it should be safe to hunt any game we find."

I followed behind him, staring at his back. The trees thinned out to a valley, and I saw the signs for the first time. They lined the perimeter, secured to the trees with rusty bolts that'd obviously been there a while. "What are they dumping here?"

Tex waited until we broke through the trees to answer. "They came up with a chemical that could melt down all the garbage, but they didn't give too much thought about how toxic that would be. Or they probably did and didn't care." He cut a look at my face and grinned. "I like to think of it as a real-life witch's brew. It's got a whole lot of everything in it, and it'll either kill you or make you powerful."

"Has it ever killed any of your men?" I reached down and skimmed my fingers over the tall grass, praying no snakes inhabited it.

"No. Once it's diluted, it only enhances. They've been testing it on people for years. I'm assumin' to find a way for people to survive it. The way they keep it before dumping, pure and in large silos, will rot the teeth right out a man's mouth if he even stands close for too long. They have to force people to do it." He grimaced as if the words tasted foul, then tugged on my hand. "I know a spot where my men have found deer before. They just couldn't get the jump on them. How about we go sit and watch for a bit?"

I nodded and followed his lead, his last words ringing through my head and forming nightmarish memories made of pure imagination. "Who works with it before dumping?"

He tensed a bit but didn't stop walking. He led us into the trees on the opposite side of the clearing and pulled me with him to sit beside one. "The listed. Anyone able bodied that they don't want to get rid of right away."

Daddy. John. The images assaulted me, their faces all gaunt and drawn, their skin riddled with sores, like the woman and her child behind the barn. I'd had a hard time accepting that they were gone. That they'd been killed. But tortured, forced to die little by little? Daddy sick and falling apart and wondering if I'd made it away, if I was okay?

Tex turned and cupped my cheek, tilting my face towards him. "Hey," he cooed. "Don't cry, Darlin'. Please."

It was only then I noticed the tears. He used his thumb to wipe one away, then cursed beneath his breath. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you that."

"Who do they use?" My voice sounded foreign, too raspy and raw to be mine. "Who do they force to do that?" In my heart, I already knew the answer, but I needed to hear it. I needed to know.

He shook his head. "Some people volunteer for ration tickets and more time. Some are already listed and forced to. There's no real criteria, Darlin'. Able bodied people. Nobody who puts up a fight. They don't waste their time with fighters, so whoever you're thinking about, it probably didn't happen to them."

"He didn't fight," I said. "Remember? I told you that. He didn't fight. He wouldn't have. My Daddy never started a fight he knew he couldn't win. He was able bodied and used to working in the fields. He would have jumped at the chance to—" My voice broke apart, and I paused to gather my emotions. "He would have jumped at the chance to keep my brother alive, no matter the cost they'd have to pay."

Tex didn't try to persuade me otherwise. He didn't attempt to explain away my reasonings or offer platitudes to console my mind. He stroked my hair, pushing it away from my face and petting me like a wounded kitten he'd just found in a back alley. "I told you my father led these men," he said. "This group didn't form because of the government. It wasn't created for survival. It's a gang, Darlin'."

He settled back with a hard exhale and pressed my head into the crook of his shoulder. And I let him. I sat there, listening, letting his arm circle me, and his fingers trail through my hair.

"I told you before, I'm not a good man. None of us are. We dealt with weapons, drugs, and a number of things I wouldn't dare stain your pretty ears with." His arm drew me in tighter as he leaned over and pressed his nose to my hair. "People like us were the first to be listed, and they chased after my father for years. When they finally caught him, it wasn't like normal. He'd become too famous, and too popular among even the law-abiding lower classes. His rebellion against The Greater Good and their agenda gave too much hope to those in hiding, so, when they killed him, they did it in a way that would kill all that hope with him."

His voice was low and spoken against my scalp, and he breathed in as if the scent of my hair somehow granted him calm. He nuzzled me absently, and my own thoughts shifted back to the present, to his story, and the warmth of his life seeping into mine.

"They beat him unrecognizable then broadcasted his death on every news station. People celebrated it, like some kind of victory, as if he were more dangerous than an entire government killing its own citizens. Josef Arogander himself gave a speech, and when I get my army built..." He trailed off, voice thickening into a growl and fingers curling into my hair.

"Daddy hid people in our barn," I said. His anguish over his own dark memories struck a nerve, and I wanted to distract him. I wanted to give back what he'd so readily given me. A part of himself. A scar. "That's why I haven't experienced much. We kept to ourselves, only participating in the church on Sundays. We didn't accept company or bring anyone around, and I was always too busy helping Mama feed everyone to think about boys or anything else."

His body relaxed, and his hand resumed its motions, back and forth, a soft pattern that made tingles spill from my scalp and trickle down my spine. "Who were they? Listed people? Were you close with any of them?"

"Oh, no. Daddy wouldn't let me near the barn. He kept them separate from us. We knew they were there. We baked bread and prepared the meals. We helped clean blankets and supplies whenever Daddy would find some, but he never let us interact. I think, in a way, he wanted to keep us away from it. Like he knew, even then, that it would all go bad, and if we weren't by the barn, we would be safe from the fallout whenever it came."

"He sounds like a strong man, your father. He must have been to have raised a girl like you."

Warmth filled my chest, and it was a surprising sensation to have while revisiting my memories of before. Daddy was a strong man. He was the best man.

Tex suddenly sat up and whispered, "Look."

Straight ahead, a buck stepped through the trees, nibbling at the ground. My adrenaline surged the way it always did when big game came into play. I pulled my bow off my shoulder and settled an arrow into it, then, slowly, silently, I straightened to my knees and took aim. I had a perfect shot, right in the heart. The world stilled as I focused on my breathing, and Daddy's words echoed through my mind. Deep breath in through your nose, then slowly out your mouth. Release on the exhale. Smooth and calm.

I was about to let it loose when a crack of gunfire reverberated through the air. Tex jumped to his feet and whipped in the direction it'd come from, and the buck broke off into a full gallop through the trees.

More shots fired, then rang up as if a war were playing out right behind us. Tex bent, picked me up, and sprinted toward the sound.