"Alright, I'd say our work here is done," Eugene wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his mud caked gloves. It does not seem to bother him that this simply replaces the sweat with streaks of dirt. "The next rotation can take it from here,"
"I'm not going to argue with that," I tell him, striking my shovel into the ground and pushing it securely in place with the heel of my boot before calling out to the group. "Wrap it up! We'll let the next group go from here,"
The thawing winter snow brought more than just the usual change of season to Jackson. A group of escapees from the Denver QZ had managed to make their way to our settlement with surprisingly minimal loss, though they were starving and weak from traveling through the harsh Wyoming winter. Their assimilation into the settlement was welcome, but also caused those in charge to recognize that we needed to expand. Emergency meetings were held around Maria and Tommy's dining room table, maps and papers spread out as the group determined which houses could be occupied after minimal repair and, more importantly, how we could extend security measures to our ever expanding border.
That is how I found myself digging trenches into the muddy terrain at the more remote edges of the settlement. The air is heavy with the musty scent of wet earth and sweat as each rotation has worked tirelessly through the week to fortify the existing walls and expand the perimeter where needed. This is a necessary but demanding change from my usual responsibilities overseeing the gardening rotations - the fortification project is an all hands call, so everyone is putting in time to protect our home.
My current group is largely new faces, except for Earl and Eugene, who is pushing 70 yet insists he can do the work of a much younger man. In his defense, he seems to be proving his point. His sections of the project are generally the quickest to be done and needing the least follow up repair. I find myself spending a large portion of time helping the newer recruits and answering questions, but I honestly don't mind. My shoulder does not appreciate the repetitive, heavy swings with the shovel and the strain it puts on those weakened muscles. Spreading beds of compost and strategizing new crop rotations puts far less stress on the old injury I sustained in the journey to Jackson.
"I'm starving," A young man from the newly arrived group slumps against the handle of his shovel, pulling the gloves from his hands. He appears to be no more than 17-years-old and among the youngest of the group. They may have only arrived three days before, but no one is exempt from pulling their weight.
"We'll be getting back at the perfect time then," I tell him, trying to step in before any of the men give him a hard time. I hate when they are hard on new people, no matter how much they insist it's their way of welcoming them to town. "They should be serving lunch at the community center about now. I'll walk over with you all,"
The month of May is when the settlement really comes alive. The harsh winter weather is finally easing up, bringing the world back to life in shades of green and blue. Ever since we built the greenhouses, gardening became a year-round endeavor. I have lost count of the times I have stood knee deep in snow, trudging from greenhouse to greenhouse to harvest freshly grown produce and flowers to keep the community fed. When the weather begins to warm like this again, I remember why I volunteered to take on this position in the first place.
The fix for the turbine back in the fall seems to be holding strong. Aside from preventive patrols monitoring the dam, we have had no need to return or address major damage. In the weeks following the excursion, I began to realize that something within me was off. I had always been quick to volunteer for patrol groups, assisting wherever needed without much conflict. After the dam, I was different. I startled more easily, jumping at sudden noises or movements that were truly inconsequential. It was Maria who finally sat down with me and addressed what she believed to be the issue - the bandit was the first person I had actually killed. She points this out to me over a cup of tea at my kitchen table, believing I will take some tough love better in the comfort of my own home. I've handled plenty of weapons and killed numerous Infected, but until now I have never been in the position of taking a human life. With her agreement, I took myself off patrol outings and focused primarily on the more domestic rotations. The garden became my domain, and more recently I found myself raising a flock of chickens. Eugene found stray hens on one of his rides outside the gates that he somehow managed to round up and bring back, then some of the boys built a coop as a school project.
We load our gear and materials back onto the cart and start our trek back to the center of town, passing the houses being unboarded and repaired for the new occupants calling them home. The closer we get to the community center, the livelier things become. It is normal for people to be out and about, especially in weather as nice as today, but something about this feels different. There is an almost nervous, yet excited energy in the air and I can tell something has changed. When we arrive at the warehouse to store the equipment, I spot a familiar face. Esther is helping the next group organize, passing out shovels and checking names off the list on the clipboard in her hands.
"What's going on?" I ask her, turning to wash the dirt from my hands in the well worn industrial sink. The warehouse is an old barn, now used to store construction materials between projects. No matter how hard I scrub, I know the brown tinge of mud around my fingernails will take days to truly wash away. "It seems like there is a lot more activity happening outside…"
"New arrivals," She explains, not seeming concerned. It takes a lot to rattle Esther, which I appreciate. "It's a small group this time though, just two people. I think everyone is interested though because Maria let them skip the usual process. I heard they're already being assigned a house."
"What? That can't be true…" This cannot be right. Jackson is welcoming, but not without well deserved caution. Not every traveler who comes around does so with good intentions, so a strict protocol has been in place since before my arrival to essentially screen anyone who intends to stay. We have to be sure we are not opening ourselves up to an ambush by letting a clever group of hunters send someone in as a cover. There is no way Maria or Tommy would just let someone walk in the gates and immediately be offered a place to live.
"That's what I've heard, but it could just be people talking. Lots of change is happening right now with the Denver group getting settled, so maybe wires got crossed." Esther shrugs, handing me a dry towel for my hands. "I think they're still at the community center with Maria and Tommy. Maybe stop by and see what they say?"
"Thanks, Esther," I hand the towel back and nod toward the door, encouraging the hungry young man and his friends to start walking out. "We're headed there now to get some lunch, so I'll see what I can find out,"
Being a central gathering place in the center of town, the community center is generally pretty full. Today, it is outright crowded. At first, I thought Esther may be right and there was simply a miscommunication with the new group still settling in. Now I am starting to believe that something else may be going on.
"Go ahead and grab some food," I point in the direction of the kitchen and the boys take off before I provide any further instruction. My stomach feels uneasy and I can feel the dirt caked uncomfortably at the back of my neck. I'll eat once I have bathed…and when I know why everyone is acting so strange. Taking a quick scan of the room, I spot Tommy and Maria at a table off toward the back corner. There are two people sitting across from them, but all I can see are their backs, leaning over occasionally to take a bite of food from the plates in front of them. Tommy and I make eye contact despite the crowd bustling around and he waves me over. The look on his face is indecipherable, but I am anxious to know the story of these mysterious new arrivals.
"It's a great house, plenty of space," I hear Tommy telling the man across from him as I approach. "It's right down Rancher Street, near the greenhouses with a great little path to the center of town. Close to everything, but still a little private. You'll love it,"
"How's the fortification project going?" I have barely reached the table when Maria addresses me, the tone of her voice very clear and calculated.
"Great," I tell her, attempting to subtly get a look at the two people sitting at their table. "The new guys are working really hard, making great progress. I'll be very happy to get back to full-time gardening though, not going to lie,"
"Speaking of Rancher Street -" Tommy interjects, gesturing in my direction as he continues speaking to the pair. "Meet one of your new neighbors. Well, I guess you've technically met before, but still, doesn't hurt to have a re-introduction,"
You have to be fucking kidding me.
Looking across the table, I find myself face to face again with Joel Miller.
No one has discussed Joel since that day at the dam. After he and Tommy took off after Ellie, the rest of us returned to Jackson and waited to see what would happen. That night, Tommy came back alone. Maybe he gave more detail to Maria once they were home alone together, but the explanation he gave to everyone else was simple and clear:
"Joel had a change of heart. They're going to find the Fireflies,"
Now here he is, eating a bowl of venison stew in the Jackson community center as though this is a normal, everyday thing. To his left, Ellie is silently dragging her spoon back and forth through her stew, not fully focused on the conversation at hand.
"You're back," I state an obvious fact because no polite, welcoming sentiment comes to mind. My jaw is tight. I can feel Maria staring at me, watching my expression and trying to anticipate my reaction, but I refuse to look in her direction. "That's…unexpected,"
"Sorry, ma'am," Joel has a confused, almost embarrassed expression on his face as he speaks to me. Good. He should be embarrassed by his presumptuous behavior, but I feel my eye involuntarily twitch at the way "ma'am" rolls off his tongue. "I don't recall having met…"
He's joking, right? He has to be. His voice is different, but I cannot explain why. Before I can respond, Ellie looks up from her bowl, the deprecation toward his statement evident on her face.
"Joel, she fucked up that guy who tried to shoot us at the dam last year. She like, literally saved my life,"
Yeah, I fucked him up. That's a way to put it. My throat feels thick, almost tight and for a moment I struggle to draw in a breath. Her description seems to jog his memory and Joel nods slowly, clearly remembering our encounter but not my name.
"Good to see you again, Ellie," My voice cracks slightly, but I don't think anyone but Maria notices. "Especially under less stressful circumstances,"
"Joel and Ellie are moving into that two story by you, next to the greenhouses," Tommy explains. "I was just telling 'em what a great spot it is - close to everything, but plenty of space, especially for two people,"
I know exactly which house he is talking about and he's right - it's great. It is not quite as far out as the houses being worked on for the Denver group, but it has not been occupied yet because the windows needed some work. Conveniently, they were fixed a few days ago when we started working on the other houses. It's two stories with a little garage in the back and a beautiful little porch on the front. I know because I see it every day from my own front porch directly across the street. I have no idea why Tommy thinks I will have any kind of positive response to this news.
"Maria, can I talk to you for a second? Just want to go over some stuff that came up this morning, you know, so the next groups coming along don't run into the same issues," My lie does not sound convincing, but Maria gets up and follows me regardless. Finding a spot inside without anyone around is not possible, but we weave our way through the kitchen and out the back door. The alley behind the community center is stacked with empty pallets and barrels, mud caked along the bottom of the fence separating us from the house on the other side.
"What the hell, Maria?" She expects my candid exasperation. "Just a few months ago this man shows up and tries to send Tommy on a suicide mission and now you're just giving him a house? What happened? Weren't they going to the Fireflies or something? Did they not want them either?"
"Take a breath," Maria places her hands on her hips, looking down momentarily as she collects her thoughts. "We're all surprised, okay? They showed up at the front gate this morning not too long after your group went out. No one was expecting this. All I know is that things didn't work out with the Fireflies and they are back. When they left last time Tommy promised them there would always be space for them here if things didn't go as expected, so they came back."
"And that isn't suspicious to you? You're not putting them through the thousand question interrogation the rest of us go through? I'm pretty sure you're the one who told me what a bad person he is, aren't you? And now he's just going to be living across the street from me with his kid,"
"Ellie isn't his kid,"
"That doesn't make me feel better. Actually, it just gives me like ten more questions about why the fuck we're allowing them to stay,"
"And I'm sure you'll get those answers in time, but for now, I need you to drop it," The stern tone of Maria's voice is unexpected. "This is not up for debate. Joel is Tommy's brother, and whether I like it or not, he's my brother-in-law. We take care of our family here. You know that. Tommy trusts him, and I trust my husband to be a good judge of character. We'll get them moved in and settled later today."
"I guess I should head home and start baking a 'welcome, new neighbor' pie to deliver," I quip, gesturing sarcastically.
"That won't be necessary," Maria does not indulge my childish response, "I do, however, want you to get Ellie into a garden rotation. I think it'll be a good starting point for her while we figure out their regular assignments."
"Fine," I sigh, the tightening feeling in my throat and chest beginning to strengthen. "I could use some help tomorrow morning. We have a decent crop of peas ready in greenhouse two, so I can teach her how to harvest them."
"Perfect, I'll let her know where to meet you. Until then, go home. Take a shower and a few deep breaths. You don't have to like this, but I need you to trust us."
The thing is, I do trust them. Tommy and Maria have never led me astray or made impulsive decisions. Deciding to let Joel and Ellie stay means they have given this thought and decided it is a safe, reasonable decision. But no one is perfect, so maybe this is the moment in their leadership where they have finally slipped up and made the wrong call.
"This fucking sucks,"
Ellie is less than thrilled to be harvesting pea pods as the morning sun barely breaks over the mountains. I'm sure she did not expect to be working already on her first full day as a resident of Jackson, but such is the way for us all. Something in her voice tells me that there is more to her frustration than just teenage angst, but I do not push it.
"You're doing great," A handful of ripe pods drop into my basket, which is twice as full as hers. "It can be kind of repetitive, but it's easier than digging trenches all day,"
"You do this every day?"
"Mostly," A few more pods fall rhythmically. "There's not always something to pick, so some days I'm planting or weeding the beds, turning the compost and distributing it. There's a lot of maintenance that goes into the actual greenhouse structures, too. I create the rotation schedule, train new workers like you. So, I'm here most days but each day looks different,"
"So you're like one of the important people, like Maria," Ellie is picking pods at a snail's pace, focusing more on the questions she began asking the moment Maria left after walking with her to the greenhouses.
"Not exactly. We have a leadership group, like some of us that come together and collectively make decisions and make sure different areas are operating properly. Maria is really the one in charge, but the rest of us contribute to decisions being made,"
"Okay," She nods, trying to comprehend. "So were you a farmer or something before? Or do you just really like doing boring, repetitive shit every day?"
I like her. Even if she isn't trying to be funny, her blunt observations make me laugh.
"I live for boring, repetitive shit," I joke, carefully watching out the side of my eye to see her reaction. She tries to suppress it, but I see the corner of her mouth turn up in a smirk. "I wasn't a farmer, but we all learned skills to survive. I do enjoy it though. It's a lot of work, but there's something incredibly rewarding about watching a tiny seed turn into an entire plant that provides food for everyone."
"I guess that's pretty cool," Ellie mumbles, turning a pod between her fingers to determine if it is ripe or not. "How long have you been here?"
"Three years,"
"Where were you before that?"
"Atlanta," I hope one word answers are sating her curiosity, because I do not intend to expound.
"Why'd you leave?" She tries, and I have to give her credit. I take a minute before responding, not wanting to come across as frustrated or rude. I want her to feel comfortable talking, just not about my past.
"Enough questions about me," I try to shake my head playfully, but I am not sure that is the tone it sets. "What about you? Where were you before this?"
"Fair enough. I was in Boston, born in the QZ. I never left until Joel and...well, we're a long fucking way from Boston now," She is hiding something, but I am not going to press the issue. There is something different about her voice, something less animated or engaged. When she and Joel arrived at the dam, she was enamored with the horses and flailing her arms in excitement recounting the bandit attack to him. It feels like that energy is gone, but I could be misremembering. It was months ago and I tried pretty intently to remove that entire week from my memory. "He's not my dad, you know,"
Her sudden disclosure takes me off guard, despite Maria already stating this yesterday.
"How did you end up traveling together?" Is there a polite way to ask someone how they ended up being smuggled? If so, I don't know what it is.
"A friend asked him to help me get out of the city, as a favor. Now we're here, but I think that's what he really wanted in the end. He never fucking shut up about finding his brother and now he has,"
Joel wanting to find Tommy seems far fetched, like a story he would tell a child to deflect from the reality of their situation. Her story is full of holes and inconsistency, and I am still not sure why they did not stay with the Fireflies they took off to locate. Something about the way she speaks tells me she does not want to dive into the details, but she is trying to connect. Being smuggled across the country at such a young age would have to take a toll on her and I find myself pushing back feelings of pity for the young girl.
"Do you like the house?" Changing the subject may help, focus the topics on the more current situation.
"I guess," She shrugs, pulling two pods off the vine at once and tossing them into her sparsely filled basket. "I'm staying in the garage. By choice, not like because anyone is making me. I think it's a cool space,"
"So you've got your own apartment pretty much. Very mature," She responds well to sarcasm, I've noticed.
"Joel hates it. He keeps worrying about me being out there alone, like we aren't in a fucking guarded community where shit doesn't happen,"
"You'll be fine out there. Jackson is incredibly safe,"
"Maybe you can tell him that, you know, as someone who's been here awhile. He might take you more seriously,"
"I don't think Joel wants to hear what I have to say about anything..." I shake my head in jest, but she is a smart kid. She catches on to the contempt in my voice and drops the subject quickly.
It takes Ellie twice as long to fill her basket as it takes me to fill mine, but I move on silently to my next task while she works. By now we're nearing the end of her shift and I'm sure she is anxious to get going. Together we set the baskets aside for the next shift to clean and shell, and I show her where the sinks are to wash up. Next time, I'll set aside a pair of gloves specifically for her and her own basket as well.
"Hey, um, thanks," Ellie turns as she starts to exit through the gate leading to the house. "I know I said this sucks, but you're pretty helpful,"
"No problem. Go relax some, maybe work on making that garage a home," I smile, and she's gone without another word.
The rest of the day is so busy, I do not have time to think about how much I hate the situation with my new neighbor. The morning harvest is cleaned, prepared and either prepped to be preserved or distributed through town. Between training more of the Denver crowd and taking care of my own tasks, the day passes in what feels like minutes. It is only once everyone has gone home for the day and I am making my final pass through each greenhouse that I see Ellie's jacket laying along the table by the sinks.
I had completely forgotten she had taken it off before getting to work. After securing each greenhouse door, I grab the hoodie and make my way toward their gate. Thankfully, I know she is in the garage and not the main house, so this should be a quick, painless interaction.
Of course, the lights on the garage are out. The thin curtains barely cover the windows and it is evident no one is inside. At first, I am tempted to just hang the hoodie across the door knob and leave, but the sunset is splattered with dark clouds and the air already smells like rain. I do not want to risk leaving it outside to soak and be ruined. Maybe I can hold onto it for tonight and find her tomorrow...
I turn and make my way toward the side of the house, my front door visible across the street and a more than welcome sight after a long, yet productive day. I want nothing more than to rinse the dirt from every inch of my body, wrap myself in a blanket and sleep without interruption.
"Should I be worried about you lurking around my backyard?"
My heightened startle reflex betrays me, and I jump so suddenly I nearly lose my footing. Gripping the jacket to my chest, I center myself and balance with both feet firmly on the ground. My heart is racing so violently that I feel it beating through my ears.
Joel is watching me quietly from the open window above, his expression almost amused at my overreaction. I had not even noticed the lights inside the main house or that the kitchen window was open, letting in the fresh evening air. He looks near identical to that day at the dam, with the same greying brown hair, beard, and scar cut deep across his broad nose. He is wearing a brown t shirt, sleeves beginning to fray along the edges but still holding up. Through the window screen I can tell that there are small, wet splotches across his stomach and I assume he has been washing dishes since the lower half of him is hidden behind a counter with a visible faucet from the kitchen sink.
"I have Ellie's jacket," I explain defensively. "She left it during her shift, so I was bringing it back,"
"Oh yeah, she just left to go grab some food with Tommy. Something about wanting her to meet some of the other kids her age," he said.
"I see. Well, it's going to rain, so I didn't want to leave it outside..."
"Hang on a sec," Joel interrupts me, abruptly leaving the window. He can't even be bothered to listen, evidently focused on something else.
The back door opens with a tired creak, clearly not having been used for awhile. I hear his boots crossing the old wooden porch before I actually see him coming. When he descends the porch steps, I remember the way he defensively towered over me back at the dam all those months ago and note that his posture now is decidedly different. He is more relaxed, moving casually and without an agenda as he stands before me and extends a hand. It takes me a minute to realize he is reaching for the jacket, and I push it toward him with more force than intended.
"There," I nod before immediately turning and preparing to bolt in the direction of my front steps.
"I wanted to thank you,"
I stop dead in my tracks, back still turned to him. My nostril flare and the same constricting feeling from earlier creeps up the back of my throat.
"I'm sorry?"
When I turn and face him, I expect to see the same face from before. Furrowed brows framing his stern eyes that seethe with disdain. Last time we stood this close to each other, the only thing stopping us from ripping each other apart was Tommy stepping in, and Tommy is not here now.
"I wanted to thank you," Joel repeats, holding Ellie's jacket in one hand and rubbing the back of his neck with the other. There is no contempt or anger in his voice, and he is not using his posture for physical intimidation like before. "For protecting Ellie back at the dam."
"That was months ago. You don't need to thank me," I am instantly skeptical, watching his mannerisms as he continues. There has to be a catch, but unlike Tommy and Maria, I am not falling for any tricks he is trying to pull. "We were being attacked, so I defended us. Anyone would have done it,"
"Either way, thank you. We wouldn't be back here now if not for you,"
That's rich. If I had missed the shot, Maria would have just finished it. But then it would be her fault and not mine that I am now neighbors will this man whose presence alone makes my blood run hot. I don't know what to make of his open, relaxed posture and the newly calmed tone of his voice.
"Great," I nod to indicate this discussion is done, but he is still standing in the same spot without moving. It takes all my self control to not wring my hands together as pinprick tingles shoot from my wrist down through every finger. I shift my weight uncomfortably between each foot, unsure of what is stopping me from simply walking away.
"Well, I'm sure we'll see each other around," Joel returns my nod, "Thanks for returning her jacket, and working with her today. I appreciate knowing Ellie's got someone she can rely on here aside from just me,"
"Of course. Have a good night," I toss a dismissive wave his direction and this time truly do leave, moving with haste past the side of his house, down the front steps and across the street home.
If he says good night back, I do not wait to hear it.