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.Six will trek to our next bigcamp, which is eighty miles south, carting food andsupplies in backpacks strapped to their bodies.When theyreach camp, they will bury half the food in the ground, so it will not be consumed by animals, and mark the place ofburial with a group of stones.Two will return to thehomestead; the other four will go on another sixty miles,where they will bury half of what remains.Two of the four willthen return to the homestead.The fifth scout will wait there while the last scoutpushes a final forty miles, equipped with the remainingportion of food.They will return to the homestead together,trapping and foraging what they can.By then we will havemade all the arrangements and finished packing up.When I ask Raven why the camps get closer andcloser together as they wind southward, she barely glancesup from what she s doing. You ll see, she says shortly.Her hair is plaited intodozens of small braids Blue s work and Raven has fixedgolden leaves and dried red baneberries, which arepoisonous, at their ends. Isn t it better to go as far as we can every day? Ipress.Even the third camp is a hundred miles from our finaldestination, although as we move south we ll find otherhomesteads, better trapping, and people to share theirfood and shelter with us.Raven sighs. We ll be weak by then, she says, finallystraightening up to look at me. Cold.Hungry.It willprobably be snowing.The Wilds suck the life out of you, I mtelling you.It s not like going on one of your little morningruns.You can t just keep pushing.I ve seen She breaksoff, shaking her head, as though to dislodge a memory. We have to be very careful, she finishes. I m so offended I can t speak for a moment.Ravencalled my runs little, as though they re some kind of game.But I ve left bits of myself out there skin, blood, sweat, andvomit bits of Lena Haloway, flaking off in pieces,scattered in the dark.Raven senses she s upset me. Help me with these,will you? she asks.She s making small emergencypouches, one for every homesteader, filled with Advil,Band-Aids, antibacterial wipes.She piles the supplies inthe center of squares of fabric, cut from old sheets, thentwists them into pouches and ties them off with wire. Myfingers are so fat I keep getting everything all tangled. It s not true: Raven s fingers are thin, just like the rest ofher, and I know she s trying to make me feel better.But Isay, Yeah, sure. Raven hardly ever asks for help; whenshe does, you give it.The scouts will be exhausted.Even though they will beweighed down by food, it is for storing, not for eating, andthey have room to carry only a tiny bit for themselves.Thelast scout, the one who goes all one hundred and eightymiles, has to be the strongest.Without conferring ordiscussing it, everyone knows it will be Tack.One night, I work up the courage to approach him.Heis in a rare good mood.Bram brought four rabbits from thetraps today, and for once we have all eaten until we werecompletely full.After dinner, Tack sits next to the fire, rolling acigarette.He doesn t look up as I approach. What? he asks, abrupt as ever, but his voice has none of its usual edge.I suck in a deep breath and blurt out, I want to be oneof the scouts. I ve been agonizing all week about what tosay to Tack I ve written whole speeches in my head butat the last second these eight words are all that come. No, Tack says shortly.And just like that, all myworrying and planning and strategizing have come tonothing.I m torn between disappointment and anger. I m fast, Isay. I m strong. Not strong enough. I want to help, I press, conscious of the whine that iscreeping into my voice, conscious of the fact that I soundlike Blue when she is throwing one of her rare tantrums.Tack runs his tongue along the rolling paper and thentwists the cigarette closed with a few expert turns of hisfingers.He looks up at me then, and in that second I realizeTack hardly ever looks at me.His eyes are shrewd,appraising, filled with messages I don t understand. Later, he says, and with that, he stands and pusheshis way past me and up the stairs. nowThe morning of the rally is unseasonably warm.What littlesnow has remained on the ground and the roofs runs inrivulets through the gutters, and drips from streetlamps andtree branches.It is dazzlingly sunny.The puddles in thestreet look like polished metal, perfectly reflective.Raven and Tack are joining me at the demonstration,although they ve informed me that they won t actually staywith me.My job is to keep close to the stage.I m to watchJulian before he heads uptown to Columbia Memorial,where he will be cured. Don t take your eyes off him, no matter what, Ravenhas instructed me. No matter what, okay? Why? I ask, knowing my question will go unanswered.Despite the fact that I am officially part of the resistance, Iknow hardly anything about how it works, and what we re supposed to be doing. Because, she says, I said so. I mouth the last part along with her, keeping my backturned so she won t see.Uncharacteristically, there are long lines at the busstops.Two different regulators are distributing numbers tothe waiting passengers; Raven, Tack, and I will be on bus5, whenever that arrives.The city has quadrupled thequantity of buses and drivers today [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.Six will trek to our next bigcamp, which is eighty miles south, carting food andsupplies in backpacks strapped to their bodies.When theyreach camp, they will bury half the food in the ground, so it will not be consumed by animals, and mark the place ofburial with a group of stones.Two will return to thehomestead; the other four will go on another sixty miles,where they will bury half of what remains.Two of the four willthen return to the homestead.The fifth scout will wait there while the last scoutpushes a final forty miles, equipped with the remainingportion of food.They will return to the homestead together,trapping and foraging what they can.By then we will havemade all the arrangements and finished packing up.When I ask Raven why the camps get closer andcloser together as they wind southward, she barely glancesup from what she s doing. You ll see, she says shortly.Her hair is plaited intodozens of small braids Blue s work and Raven has fixedgolden leaves and dried red baneberries, which arepoisonous, at their ends. Isn t it better to go as far as we can every day? Ipress.Even the third camp is a hundred miles from our finaldestination, although as we move south we ll find otherhomesteads, better trapping, and people to share theirfood and shelter with us.Raven sighs. We ll be weak by then, she says, finallystraightening up to look at me. Cold.Hungry.It willprobably be snowing.The Wilds suck the life out of you, I mtelling you.It s not like going on one of your little morningruns.You can t just keep pushing.I ve seen She breaksoff, shaking her head, as though to dislodge a memory. We have to be very careful, she finishes. I m so offended I can t speak for a moment.Ravencalled my runs little, as though they re some kind of game.But I ve left bits of myself out there skin, blood, sweat, andvomit bits of Lena Haloway, flaking off in pieces,scattered in the dark.Raven senses she s upset me. Help me with these,will you? she asks.She s making small emergencypouches, one for every homesteader, filled with Advil,Band-Aids, antibacterial wipes.She piles the supplies inthe center of squares of fabric, cut from old sheets, thentwists them into pouches and ties them off with wire. Myfingers are so fat I keep getting everything all tangled. It s not true: Raven s fingers are thin, just like the rest ofher, and I know she s trying to make me feel better.But Isay, Yeah, sure. Raven hardly ever asks for help; whenshe does, you give it.The scouts will be exhausted.Even though they will beweighed down by food, it is for storing, not for eating, andthey have room to carry only a tiny bit for themselves.Thelast scout, the one who goes all one hundred and eightymiles, has to be the strongest.Without conferring ordiscussing it, everyone knows it will be Tack.One night, I work up the courage to approach him.Heis in a rare good mood.Bram brought four rabbits from thetraps today, and for once we have all eaten until we werecompletely full.After dinner, Tack sits next to the fire, rolling acigarette.He doesn t look up as I approach. What? he asks, abrupt as ever, but his voice has none of its usual edge.I suck in a deep breath and blurt out, I want to be oneof the scouts. I ve been agonizing all week about what tosay to Tack I ve written whole speeches in my head butat the last second these eight words are all that come. No, Tack says shortly.And just like that, all myworrying and planning and strategizing have come tonothing.I m torn between disappointment and anger. I m fast, Isay. I m strong. Not strong enough. I want to help, I press, conscious of the whine that iscreeping into my voice, conscious of the fact that I soundlike Blue when she is throwing one of her rare tantrums.Tack runs his tongue along the rolling paper and thentwists the cigarette closed with a few expert turns of hisfingers.He looks up at me then, and in that second I realizeTack hardly ever looks at me.His eyes are shrewd,appraising, filled with messages I don t understand. Later, he says, and with that, he stands and pusheshis way past me and up the stairs. nowThe morning of the rally is unseasonably warm.What littlesnow has remained on the ground and the roofs runs inrivulets through the gutters, and drips from streetlamps andtree branches.It is dazzlingly sunny.The puddles in thestreet look like polished metal, perfectly reflective.Raven and Tack are joining me at the demonstration,although they ve informed me that they won t actually staywith me.My job is to keep close to the stage.I m to watchJulian before he heads uptown to Columbia Memorial,where he will be cured. Don t take your eyes off him, no matter what, Ravenhas instructed me. No matter what, okay? Why? I ask, knowing my question will go unanswered.Despite the fact that I am officially part of the resistance, Iknow hardly anything about how it works, and what we re supposed to be doing. Because, she says, I said so. I mouth the last part along with her, keeping my backturned so she won t see.Uncharacteristically, there are long lines at the busstops.Two different regulators are distributing numbers tothe waiting passengers; Raven, Tack, and I will be on bus5, whenever that arrives.The city has quadrupled thequantity of buses and drivers today [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]