Fear: A Gone Novel

up with an excuse to see Sam. At the same time she suspected that she was looking for an excuse to back off and avoid her duty to help.
    It occurred to Astrid that in days gone by she might have prayed for guidance. It brought a wistful smile to her lips. What had happened to that Astrid? Where had she gone to? Astrid hadn’t prayed since…
    “‘Put aside childish things,’” she quoted mentally. A Bible quote, which was ironic, she supposed. She shifted her pack and slipped her shotgun off her sore right shoulder onto her left. She started toward the fire.
    On the way she worked out a simple method for measuring the spread of the dark stain on the barrier. If someone had a functioning digital camera it would be easy enough. She ran the math in her head. Maybe five sample locations. Calculate the progression day by day and she would have pretty good data.
    Numbers still gave her pleasure. That was the great thing about numbers: it required no faith to believe that two plus two equaled four. And math never, ever condemned you for your thoughts and desires.
    “Who’s there?” a voice cried from the shadows.
    “Take it easy,” Astrid said.
    “Who is it or I shoot,” the voice said.
    “It’s Astrid.”
    “No way.”
    A boy, probably no older than ten, stepped out from behind a bush. He had a rifle leveled, with his finger near but not directly on the trigger.
    “Is that you, Tim?” Astrid asked.
    “Whoa. It is you,” the boy said. “I thought you were dead.”
    “You know what Mark Twain said? ‘Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.’”
    “Yep. That’s you, all right.” Tim shouldered his weapon. “I guess you’re okay to go on in. I’m not supposed to let anyone pass unless I know them. But I know you.”
    “Thanks. Good to see you well. Last time I saw you, you had the flu.”
    “Flu’s all gone now. Hope it doesn’t ever come back.”
    Astrid walked on, and now the trail was clearer and easier to follow, even as evening crept closer.
    She passed a few tents. An old-fashioned Airstream trailer. Then she reached the circle of tents and trailers that ringed the bonfire. She heard kids laughing.
    She approached nervously. The first to see her was a little girl, who nudged the older girl beside her. Astrid instantly recognized Diana.
    Diana looked at her without showing the least surprise and said, “Well, hello, Astrid. Where have you been?”
    Conversation and laughter died, and thirty or more faces, each lit orange and gold, turned to look.
    “I’ve been … away,” Astrid said.
    Diana stood up and Astrid realized with a shock that she was pregnant.
    Diana saw the look on Astrid’s face, smirked, and said, “Yes, all kinds of interesting things have happened while you were away.”
    “I need to see Sam,” Astrid said.
    That drew a laugh from Diana. “No doubt,” Diana said. “I’ll take you.”
    Diana led the way to the houseboat. She still moved with unself-conscious grace despite the bulge. Astrid wished she moved like that.
    “By the way, you didn’t happen to see a kid, a girl, on your way here, did you? Her name is Bonnie. About seven, I think.”
    “No. Is someone missing?”
    Edilio was sitting in a folding chair on the top deck, keeping watch over the scattered tents, trailers, Winnebagos, and boats. He had an automatic rifle on his lap.
    “Hi, Edilio,” Astrid said.
    Edilio jumped up and clambered down to the dock. He swung his rifle out of the way and threw his arms around Astrid. “Thank God. It’s about time.”
    Astrid felt tears forming. “Missed you,” she admitted.
    “I guess you’re here to see Sam.”
    “Yes.”
    Edilio nodded to Diana, dismissing her. He drew Astrid up onto the boat and then into the empty cabin. “There’s a little problem with that,” Edilio said in a whisper.
    “He doesn’t want to see me?”
    “He’s, um… He’s out.”
    Astrid laughed. “I assume from your conspiratorial look you mean he’s up to something dangerous?”
    Edilio grinned and shrugged. “He’s still Sam. He should be back by morning. Come on; let’s get you something to eat and drink. You can sleep here tonight.”
    The pickup truck crept down the road. Crept for many reasons: First, it saved gas. Second, they were driving with the lights out because headlights would be visible a long way off.
    Third, the road from the lake down to the highway was narrow and only sketchily paved.
    And fourth: Sam had never really learned to