Hennessey, some of the older guys, Alice Burnside … you know … sons and daughters of the revolution. Josh is … well, I’ve never seen him like this. He’s pretty messed up. Just sitting on the ground outside his tent like a sphinx … ain’t saying a word … just staring into space. Says he’ll go along with whatever they decide.”
“What does that mean?”
Bob takes another healthy sip of his medicine. “Lilly, this is all new. Somebody murdered a living person. These people ain’t dealt with anything like this before.”
“‘Murdered’?”
“Lilly—”
“That’s what they’re calling it now?”
“I’m just saying—”
“I gotta go talk to them.” Lilly tries to stand but the pain drives her back to the edge of the cot.
“Whoa there, Kemo sabe. Take it easy.” Bob leans over and gently steadies her. “I just gave you enough codeine to calm a Clydesdale.”
“Goddammit, Bob, they’re not going to lynch Josh for this, I’m not gonna let that happen.”
“Let’s just take it one step at a time. You ain’t goin’ nowhere right now.”
Lilly lowers her head. A single tear wells up and drips from her good eye. “It was an accident, Bob.”
Bob looks at her. “Maybe let’s just focus on healing right now, huh?”
Lilly looks up at him. Her busted lip is swollen to three times its normal size, her left eye shot with red, the socket already blackened and bruised. She pulls the collar of her thrift shop overcoat tighter and shivers against the cold. She wears a number of oddball accessories that catch Bob’s eye: macramé bracelets and beads and tiny feathers woven into the tendrils of amber locks falling across her devastated face. It’s curious to Bob Stookey how a girl can still pay attention to fashion in this world. But that is part of Lilly Caul’s charm, part of the fiber of her being. From the little fleur-de-lis tattoo on the back of her neck to the meticulous rips and patches in her jeans, she is one of those girls who can make ten dollars and an afternoon at a secondhand store stretch into an entire wardrobe. “This is all my fault, Bob,” she says in a hoarse, somnolent voice.
“That’s a load of crap,” Bob Stookey counters after taking another pull off the tarnished flask. Maybe the liquor has begun to loosen Bob’s lips, because he feels a twinge of bitterness. “My guess is, knowin’ that Chad character, he’d been asking for this for a while now.”
“Bob, that’s not—”
Lilly stops herself when she hears the crunch of footsteps outside the tent. The shadow of a leviathan falls across the canvas. The familiar silhouette pauses for a moment, lurking awkwardly outside the zippered front flap of Bob’s tent. Lilly recognizes the figure but says nothing.
A huge hand gently folds back the tent flap and a large, deeply lined brown face peers in. “They said I could—they gave me three minutes,” Josh Lee Hamilton says in a choked, sheepish baritone.
“What are you talking about?” Lilly sits up and stares at her friend. “Three minutes for what?”
Josh kneels in front of the tent flap, looking at the ground, struggling to tamp down his emotions. “Three minutes to say good-bye.”
“Good-bye?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you mean, ‘good-bye’? What happened?”
Josh lets out a pained sigh. “They took a vote … decided the best way to deal with what happened was to send me packing, kick me outta the group.”
“What!”
“I suppose it’s better than gettin’ hung from the highest tree.”
“You didn’t—I mean—it was completely accidental.”
“Yeah, sure,” Josh says, staring at the ground. “Poor fella accidentally bumped into my fist a whole bunch of times.”
“Under the circumstances, though, these people know what kind of man—”
“Lilly—”
“No, this is wrong. This is just … wrong.”
“It’s over, Lilly.”
She looks at him. “Are they letting you take any supplies? One of the vehicles maybe?”
“I got my bike. It’ll be okay, I’ll be awright…”
“No … no … this is just … ridiculous.”
“Lilly, listen to me.” The big man pushes his way partially into the tent. Bob glances away out of respect. Josh crouches down, reaches out and gently touches Lilly’s wounded face. From the way Josh’s lips are pressed together, the way his eyes are shimmering, the lines deepening around his mouth, it’s clear he’s holding in a tidal wave of emotion. “This is how it’s gotta play out. It’s for the best. I’ll be fine. You and Bob hold the fort down.”
Lilly’s eyes well up. “I’ll go with you, then.”
“Lilly—”
“There’s nothing for me here.”
Josh shakes his head. “Sorry, babydoll … it’s a single