Mother always says the letters in the acronym, like saying shit in front of us is wrong. It’s the motivation of our entire existence. I don’t see why it’s a big deal. “When the shit hits the fan, Mother. Just say it. If you’re going to talk about the potentiality of using rattlesnake venom as a deadly weapon, surely you can say the word shit in its relationship to hitting the fan.”
“You mean if,” Blue says loudly, full of conjecture. “Which one of our goats was worth the price of potential profit?”
We all turn our eyes on her. She’s holding the shirts that will soon be stitched with sayings full of as much inference. My sisters and I have all thought it, but none of us has dared to say if the shit hits the fan out loud until now. Blue has always been best at remaining expressionless in tense situations, but the storm behind her eyes right now is unmistakable. I know it doesn’t help, but I tried to warn her the goats weren’t pets.
“June,” Mother answers. “She was our lowest milk producer.”
I won’t lie. I was silently praying she wouldn’t say Maggie or Milkshake.
“I need to go feed the others and take Achilles hunting,” Blue says. That’s it. No further comment on the goat Mother gave to Dieter. She pulls on the Bog boots she left by the door and walks out.
“Blue, wait!”
She turns. “What’s done is done. Let it go.”
“There are things we have to do for the greater good,” Mother says. “It’s my job to protect our group and help ensure long-term survival. We can breed another goat or barter for someone else’s.”
“What exactly about sending a sixteen-year-old into the woods to bug out alone was done for the greater good?” Birdie chirps.
“That was disciplinary. My understanding is Daniel got caught and wasn’t as close-lipped as he should have been.”
“I don’t believe that,” Birdie snaps, and I’m inclined to agree. “The people who live on this compound, especially the Ackermans, are all Daniel has left. Nobody from The Burrow was with him when he went to speak with Principal Weaver.”
“Honey’s chemistry teacher was there,” Mother says. “So were the police and a federal agent.”
Honey’s chemistry teacher. I’m starting to suspect everything I do, anyone I talk to, is being watched and reported on by the same people I’m supposed to trust most.
“To be fair, isn’t what happened to Daniel Dieter’s fault?” I say, coming to Birdie’s aid. “He’s the one that sent them on a civilian interaction training mission.”
“Sneak in. Sneak out,” Mother says. “Whose idea was it to use flash-bang grenades?”
“I don’t know,” Birdie tells her. “But I would bet my life it wasn’t Daniel.”
“I know he’s your friend—” Mother starts.
“You don’t know,” Birdie pipes, her face flame red. She’s about to go off like a Roman candle. “You don’t know anything. You just—do whatever Dieter wants like the rest of his robots. Take a goat, give him one of our chickens, all our eggs, run off in the middle of the night doing god knows what, walk miles home from town. Have you lost free will or is the sex with him so mind blowing your brain got mangled?”
Mother marches up to Birdie and slaps her across the face. My sister’s jaw drops with the loud crack and her hand goes to her cheek, but she doesn’t back down. “That’s what I thought,” Birdie says.
It’s the first time Mother has laid a finger on any of us. I rush to my sister’s side, but Birdie waves me away. “I’m fine.”
“Birdie.”
“I said I’m fine.”
She might be. Birdie is as strong and stubborn as a ram. But I’m not fine. Everything Mother said implies that she knows why Daniel was punished so harshly. I know my sister was pressing every button. She’s the empress of saying things that get the biggest rise out of someone, and in a battle of wits, my middle will most certainly win. But when it comes to laying hands on Birdie or Blue, no one, not even our mother, has that right.
Mother’s face crumbles into a mask of regret. She takes a tentative step toward Birdie, and I step in front of her. “Leave her alone.”
“I’m sorry,” Mother coos, ignoring me. “My little lost Birdie, I shouldn’t have.”
“I’m not little anymore, Mother. And I’m not lost or afraid. I’m right here, fully aware of what’s happening and glad to know where your allegiance lies. If I’m wrong, maybe you’ll at least think about it next time Dieter is telling you what to do or filling your head with lies.” Birdie picks up her EDC and slings it across her chest. “I’m gonna go help Blue with the animals.”
The screen door slaps against the frame as Birdie leaves, making Mother flinch.
“Honey, you know I would never do anything to hurt you girls. You’re my whole world. Your happiness is the thing that’s fueled every decision I’ve made. I’ve always only wanted to keep you girls safe from harm.”
“You turned us into doomsday soldiers,” I tell her. “Bringing us here. Teaching us how to survive against all odds. Well, the lessons certainly seeped in, Mother, so believe me when I say this. If you ever raise a hand to one of my sisters again, we’ll use everything we’ve learned about staying safe from harm to get away from you. Three against one for infinity. Then you can have your precious Nest and everything that comes with it when it’s empty. I know Birdie was out of line. She has the ability to turn any saint into a sinner. But no one, not even you, gets to abuse their power to hurt us.”
I walk away. Alice Juniper’s third daughter to leave her standing in the kitchen to contemplate what she’s done, the decisions that led us here, and how quickly listening to your heart instead of your head can spoil a potentially good situation. And yet, as I make my way across the yard, my hypocritical thoughts go to Rémy, wondering what happened after he got pulled into Weaver’s office. Just like Daniel.
I find Birdie by the chicken coop, pressing Daniel’s shirt to her face. When she lowers it, I see the cherry-red sting on her cheek. “Are you really okay?”
“I will be. Blue went into the open field with Achy. She’s pretty mad about June, so I don’t think we should tell her one of our non-laying hens is missing. What happened with Mother after I left?”
“You may have tipped your hand on the Daniel thing,” I tell her. “But don’t worry. I told her I would fuck her up if she ever raised a hand to either of you again.”
Birdie feathers her bangs with the tips of her fingers to hide her amusement. “No, you didn’t.”
“You’re right. I didn’t. At least not in those words. But you’re my middle. Nobody gets to inflict bodily harm on you. Except me.” I sweep my leg behind Birdie’s and take her down while she’s not expecting it. Before she can retaliate, I push her down flat and sit on her stomach. She flails and tries to wriggle free like a flipped-over beetle, but I have her pegged.
“Get off.”
“Nope. I need to know you accept being taken down by your one true protector.”
Birdie groans and squirms again. She doesn’t give up for another minute and neither do I. Not until she pats the ground next to my boot and says, “Fine. Beaver.” Ceding to me with our childhood tap-out word.
I spring up, pumping my fists in victory before helping her off the ground.
“Horse,” she says, dusting off her backside.
“Wimp.”
Birdie shakes her head. I’m glad she’s grinning and not raging or, worse, crying.
“What are you gonna do when we go back inside?”
“Nothing. She made her own bed. Let her lie in it.” She saunters into the coop and scoops up some fresh feed. “I’m more concerned with finding Daniel’s clothes at AMVETS. I’ll give him until end of day to show up, but then I’m going to The Burrow to ask about him.”
“You can’t. If Dieter figures out you were involved, he might decide to send you away, too. Especially if they think Daniel snitched about our group. He told you to play dumb and DTA to protect you.”
&n
bsp; My sister huffs dismissively. Ever the impatient one.
“I’m not denying something is going on, Birdie. Not after Annalise used Rémy to take the heat off us or whatever. I’m just asking you to give it a few more days. Daniel may have overestimated his ability to complete his tasks alone.”
“Maybe,” Birdie says. Only, she’s got the same determination in her eyes she had at the thrift store. The one that warns me to stay vigilant tonight.
Dear Bucky,
You won’t believe how much has happened since I last wrote. I need sleep like a fish needs water, but I have to get a million things off my chest. I’m worried about Birdie. We found her boyfriend’s clothes at the local AMVETS, which left us all unsettled. Do you remember being on a seesaw and holding the other kid in the air until they panicked and contemplated jumping? They’d get you back after the next few up and downs, a teeter-totter battle for control. That’s how I’ve always felt about my relationship with Birdie. Lately, she’s always on the verge of jumping something, to conclusions, into action, but never safety. I’m trying to understand why everyone is acting so secretive so I can make things right for Birdie and Daniel, apologize for the flash-bang grenade Annalise Ackerman planted on Rémy, and heal my failing friendship with Ansel. But I need help. The only person I felt like I could trust with my questions was Mr. Whitlock, my prepper-slash–chemistry teacher. I understand the tight corner that backs me into, but it was a risk I had to take. He already knew more than I told him because he can read lips. There’s a threat I never anticipated. Worse, I learned Rémy can read the cipher we’ve been using to pass secret notes. Apparently it’s not a secret. It’s called Pigpen cipher and lots of people know it. I’ll let you know how it all shakes out. Stick with me.
Love,
Honey
NVD
NIGHT VISION DEVICE
A DULL THUD outside rouses me out of sleep and my first thought is Daniel must be back. I illuminate the face on my watch. It’s one a.m. Tuesday—not Monday, as promised—but Birdie will still be happy to know he kept his word.
My eyes adjust to the dimness of the room, and unless I’m mistaken, the haphazard blankets heaped on Birdie’s bed means she’s already flown the coop. I tiptoe to the window, where the sash is open a half inch. I don’t see my sister or Daniel making a getaway, but they couldn’t have gotten far. Believe me when I say these two lovebirds are going to be the death of us unless I strangle them for their reckless stupidity first. Not literally, of course, but Birdie is definitely testing my boundaries for compassion. She knows the curfew is still in place, and I’m getting tired of being the one who has to worry about covering for her recklessness.
I tug on jeans and a zippered hoodie as quietly as possible. Birdie has never gotten caught, but there’s always a first time. Blue is mumbling in her sleep when I approach her bunk. I lean closer to listen.
“She should have stayed home,” she mutters. “Bucky should have stayed home, too.”
I think she’s subconsciously confused and means Birdie, but I couldn’t agree more. I shake her shoulder and hold a finger over my lips as her eyes open and focus.
“Birdie isn’t here,” I whisper. “Did she say anything to you?”
She shakes her head.
I crouch down and push Birdie’s blanket around, lift her pillow, hoping she was smart enough to leave us a note, but no. Birdie, as always, does what she wants without thinking. If I know my sister, there’s a good chance she and Daniel are making out in the barn. No amount of preparedness will save her when I catch up to them. She can deal with the embarrassment of being physically dragged home by her older sister.
“Listen, I’m gonna go after her,” I tell Blue. “If Daniel’s back, she didn’t go far.”
“Maybe it’s time for you to listen for once.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I always listen to you, Blue.”
“Our end will bring our beginning to light.”
Now that grabs the brass ring for weird. I used to wonder if Blue was one of those people who can sleep with their eyes open. Even now, I contemplate waving my hand in front of her face. I looked it up on the internet once to make sure she didn’t have some rare form of narcolepsy and learned sleeping with your eyes open is called nocturnal lagophthalmos. I dug deeper and found something called confusion arousal in kids who talk with their eyes open while asleep. But Blue is always awake when she says these things.
She crawls down from her bunk and pulls on a pair of jeans. “You went out the other night and were lucky you weren’t caught. This time, I’m coming with you.” She taps the back of her arm where we have our tattoos. “One branch, three berries. We stick together no matter what.”
I can’t argue with that and don’t disagree.
“Hurry up. Grab your EDC. We need to find Birdie and bring her straight home before she gets us all in trouble again.”
I double-check my own EDC to make sure I put my night vision device inside when I reloaded it for its intended use. I have my headlamp, too, but an obvious light source could get us seen by anyone stationed in the lookout towers.
“Ready,” Blue says.
I open the window wide, and we crawl onto the roof and scurry down the trellis. It’s cold enough to see our breath tonight, but not so cold that frost took hold of the ground. If it had, we’d be able to track Birdie’s footprints. I tug Blue’s sleeve and pull her into the inky dark night toward the barn.
The goats stir but don’t bray as we enter, and we’re met with the kind of stillness and quiet Birdie is incapable of maintaining. A prickling sensation rises on my scalp as I realize I may have been wrong. If Daniel didn’t come back, Birdie may have gone to The Burrow.
The determination in Birdie’s eyes flashes across my mind as I stare down the path to the training area. Damn her.
“What do you think? Should we split up? It’s not optimal, but I can go to The Burrow and see if Birdie was dumb enough to go over there looking for Daniel. And you could go home in case she went back, and we missed her.”
“She’s not home. Plus, I said what I said.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
She’s right. We should stick together. Taking the normal path isn’t an option past curfew. I lead Blue back into the dark, dank woods with the moon laying a lattice of light for us. The snap of twigs and crunch of leaves between the trees sends a flutter of unseen birds to flight, but nothing that might alert anyone to our presence. We keep skittering along the edge of the woods to the Ackerman house. The male Ackerman house, on The Burrow side of the property. The yellow lighting from their garrison extends to the trees.
I put an arm out to stop Blue and study the new construction taking place on the property. There’s always been a bunker for the Ackermans directly behind their house in what most people would call a backyard—if ten acres counts as a yard—but now it’s marked with a yellow-and-black biohazard symbol. Several concrete boxy buildings with steel doors pepper the acreage between mounds of dirt and sod that will ensure the new bunkers appear as hillocks from above. I don’t remember any compound-wide disclosures about expanding membership in the coalition, but it makes me revisit Mr. Whitlock’s motives for helping us.
Tonight, two Burrow Boys are delivering supplies to the bunker. I pump my hand so Blue will follow my lead and get low to the ground. Inch by inch, I pull the night vision device from my EDC to get a closer look. Both boys are wearing gas masks, wheeling in combustible tanks and metal boxes under the cover of night. I hand the NVD scope over to Blue, but so far, there’s no sign of Birdie.
A few seconds after they’ve wheeled everything inside, someone else comes out from behind the bunker, pulling another person toward the woods like they’re about to commit murder. I tug on Blue’s sleeve and we move away from the Ackermans’ bunker, backing deeper into the woods. I can almost make out the face of the taller figure pushing the other one up against a tree. I extend my hand for the NVD, but Blue doesn’t pass it over. The
taller one takes a knee to the balls, and his groan echoes through the trees. I crouch and weave from one tree to another, trying to size up the full scope of the situation. The one that’s buckled over from the strike below the belt managed to keep his hand pressed on the other Burrow Boy’s chest, pinning him in place.
“I’m trying to keep you safe.” I recognize Ansel’s voice. The other boy could be Daniel, but then where is Birdie? I weave strategically, two more places forward like a living queen in a game of chess, waiting for Ansel to make his next move before I let him know I’m out here.
“Like you kept Daniel safe? He said he’d be back on Monday. He’s never lied to me or not been where he said, so I have to assume the worst.”
Birdie.
My breath catches in my throat. I look over my shoulder for Blue, and her shadowy figure peeks out from behind a tree. She didn’t pass me the NVD because she never followed me forward. She holds her index finger to her lips and brush-waves her hand, gesturing for me to get Birdie while she waits.
“Hey!” I whisper-yell and step out of hiding. “You can stop pressing her against that tree now.”
“You heard her,” Birdie says.
“Last time I did that, she ran. In the wrong direction,” Ansel says, completely unsurprised to see me.
“She’s not gonna run anywhere this time.”
The directive is for Birdie. Ansel must not trust her enough, since he doesn’t ease up. Pulling rank with me serves no purpose. Ansel knows I’m first-in-command when it comes to me and my sisters. I don’t know why he’s posturing.
“Are you wearing Daniel’s clothes?” I push Ansel’s locked arm off my sister’s breastbone.
“So?” Birdie’s version of challenge me. She’s shaking her arms out like a boxer preparing to do damage in the ring. There is no flight with Birdie. Only fight. I put my hand on her arm, and she paces back and forth to settle down.
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