Botanicaust

continue.
    Draping the robe over her head, she watched Levi cut a return path across the water ’ s filmy surface, towing the basket behind him. He ’ d lost his notebook and a few weeks of freedom, but he could go back to his old, peaceful life.
    And she had time to convince him to convert.

A s Levi gathered their scattered supplies, he prayed for guidance. Seeing his notebook ’ s images crumble to dust in his hands was like losing Sarah all over again.
    He upended the basket, showering water bottles onto the rock, then stalked past Tula without a glance. She called his name, but he ignored her. He couldn ’ t look at her without accusation. If her people hadn ’ t captured him, he ’ d be with Josef right now. Curing him. Making things right. The Blattvolk were a worse atrocity than his people understood.
    Diving back into the lake, he set out to gather packages of gauze and pills with foreign labels. His hat had been destroyed. He should have set out days ago, but he ’ d waited around for Tula to get better. He shoved a roll of adhesive into the basket. His debt was repaid. He needed to stop being so compassionate for others and put his son first.
    To his right, the glossy dark head of a muskrat broke the surface, looked at him, and dove again. Levi tread water. The muskrats were out of luck, as well. The pond would regenerate, but not until spring. Would they have enough food to survive the winter? He shook it off. The muskrats were the least of his concerns. But the homeless creature made him even more furious with the Blattvolk.
    At the other end of the lake, Tula stood hip deep in the water, fishing a last few packets from the first aid kit out of the lake. She stretched a little deeper, eyes wide with fear. He was impressed she would even get her feet wet after what she ’ d been through. A small twinge of guilt plucked his soul.
    When the loud speaker from the flyer had come on, it had sounded like they were inviting her back. But she ’ d hesitated. He wished he knew what they ’ d offered her - or threatened her with. Or more likely threatened him with. Saving him had cost her everything.
    And he resented owing a Blattvolk so much.
    He pulled back to shore and looked over the supplies, still refusing to acknowledge her. She ’ d filled the water bottles and placed the items she ’ d retrieved in a pile nearby. The water in the bottles might last two of them a day. He guessed the river might be a day and a half or two days walk. If she wanted to come, it would be a thirsty walk.
    Shoving the gear into the basket, he lifted it to his shoulder and turned north. He stared at the horizon for a heartbeat. Tula remained silent behind him. With one hand, he gestured for her to follow and set out into the plains without looking back.
    The air away from the pool was like opening an oven. His sweat evaporated before it could cool him. As the sun beat upon his head, he longed for his straw hat. The scrubby brush and amarantox dotting the plain shimmered with the bronze cast of waning autumn. Had they started the harvest? Was Josef getting enough to eat?
    “ Levi, what is called — ? ” Tula pointed to a rock. Next to it a shiny black scorpion hid in the shadow.
    “ Skorpion. ” He clipped. He would have left it at that, but she squatted close to the creature and reached for it. “ Danger! ”
    She jerked back and continued following him. His long strides didn ’ t seem to stress her, and now that he ’ d spoken to her, she chattered at him, asking all kinds of words. Rocks. Mountains. Trees and shrubs. He answered in monosyllables, and she eventually grew quiet.
    They reached the river much sooner than he expected, just as the sun hovered full and orange over the western mountains. Tula fell behind, staring at the stretch of lazy water from a rise. He hadn ’ t thought about crossing, but he ’ d obviously have to find a bridge rather than swim.
    He ground his teeth. Again, she was slowing him down.
    Speeding his walk, he left her to gawk and pushed through a stand of tamarisk to a sandy spot next to the water. The rough handles of the basket had rubbed his shoulders raw, and he dropped it at the edge of the trees. Tula remained on the plain, but he ignored her. She could join him or not, as she liked. It wasn ’ t like she needed food or anything. His stomach rumbled. He had cattail roots in the basket, but he wished for another juicy muskrat. He set about bending the needle from the sewing