Last Rites by Kim Paffenroth Read Free Book Online Page A

saying, and some of the time the rain and thunder drowned out the conversation completely.
    Lucy gripped his arm tighter and turned her head toward him. He looked into her one good eye.
    “I love you,” she said. “May not have another chance to say that.”
    She’d said it a few times before, but was still shy about it most of the time. It made her more desirable—a fact Truman thought she was quite well aware of. But now she came right out and said it, and that made Truman much more frightened, that she’d think these might be their last moments together. It was one thing if he were scared—lots of things scared him. But Lucy wasn’t like that. Maybe the situation was worse than he thought.
    “I love you too. Don’t be scared.”
    “I’m only scared for you. I r—r—r—” Being unable to pronounce something didn’t seem to make her angry this time. She relaxed her grip on his arm and took a deep breath. “I respect you. Not them. I like them, sometimes, but I don’t respect them. They don’t deserve it.”
    Truman shook his head slowly. “They can’t help it. They’re like animals or children. It’s not their fault.”
    Lucy nodded and turned back to face the hatch. “Maybe.”
    The hatch opened. Lucy was up faster than Truman, pulling him to his feet. “Now,” she whispered. “Remember.”
    Will came down the first two steps. He was soaked from the rain, and he shook his head to get his hair off his face. He looked around for a second before spotting them in the back. He turned to speak to the people on deck.
    “Really, we need your help,” Will said to them. “My girlfriend’s really sick. I don’t know how much longer she’ll make it.”
    “I know that,” came the reply. It was a male voice, calm but not gentle. “You told us a couple times already. But you’re gonna have to show us everything on the boat. And if you got any of those things on board—we’re gonna have to do something about that. Otherwise you can just untie from the dock right now and keep going. It’s fine with us. Is that what you want?”
    Will turned back toward Truman and Lucy. He stared at them a moment. “No,” he said, and came down the remaining steps.
    Will stood next to the hatch to Rachel’s cabin as two other men followed him down the steps. One looked a few years older than Will; he had dark hair and an almost comically long mustache. The other man was younger than Will, with light brown hair and a clean-shaven, boyish face. Both men wore raincoats, though these were open in front, revealing holstered guns at their hips; each carried a shotgun as well. Their eyes immediately found Lucy and Truman huddled against the back wall. The young man leveled his shotgun at them; the older man just regarded them with a frown.
    “See,” Will said. “They’re harmless. They don’t attack. They’re our friends. You can’t just shoot them.”
    “Terry, put down the gun for a second,” the older man said, pushing down the barrel of his companion’s shotgun. “We’re gonna discuss this. Nice and calm.”
    “Okay, CJ,” Terry replied.
    CJ’s glance went from Terry to Truman, then to Will. “I already explained this to you. You can’t just take your girlfriend to the hospital and leave these two things here. We know you’re from somewhere way out in the wilderness and you’re not used to civilization. Terry here’s younger, so he doesn’t know. But I’ve met wild people before. They come down out of the hills to trade. Not many left out there anymore, ‘cause they act so crazy and stupid. But I’ve seen a few, and how some of ‘em like having these things as pets. Or maybe it’s their family. I dunno. But whatever it is, it doesn’t matter—we got rules. Dead things don’t go inside the city, and they can’t be on a boat tied to a city dock. Either they’re disposed of, or they’re put in a work detail outside the walls, if they’re good at something and they can be