Last Girls
Page 33
Strangely, in the end, we were perfectly prepared for own survival. And nothing that happens going forward will ever refute the fact that for a long time we were the Juniper sisters.
YOYO
YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN
JONESY AND OUR real mother let us walk away from The Nest on foot at my request. I want to walk out of this life the same way we came into it, on foot, with nothing more than the clothes on our backs. Only this time, we’re not on our own.
We only get a mile before it starts sprinkling. Within minutes, it’s raining harder, but not soaking us through. Jonesy pulls up and asks if we want to hop into the back seat of his car, or maybe the catering van Rémy is driving, following us out of this place. I think Jonesy’s pressing concern is more for Bucky than us. My sisters and I could walk to San Diego if needed, but he’s injured and limping.
To my surprise, Bucky shakes his head. “Not yet.”
“I’ll pick you up in another mile,” Jonesy says. “Before you hit the main road.”
“Stick together,” our real mom says from the passenger seat, making tears form in my eyes that are camouflaged by the rain on my cheeks.
For a brief moment, I can’t help wonder if we should have taken the ride. Not from Jonesy, but way back when Allison Murphy pulled up alongside us, familiar and safe, and changed the course of our lives forever.
“Do you think we’ll be able to keep the names we have?” Blue asks, pulling a swatch of cobalt hair between her lips.
“I think if that’s what you want, sure. As long as she lets me legally change my name to Bucky.”
“If she hasn’t yet, I doubt it’s gonna happen,” Blue says.
“Hold on,” I say and freeze, tugging on Bucky’s arm to stop him. “This means I’m not the oldest. I’m a middle child.”
“Welcome to invisible world,” Birdie says. “I’m not sure how I feel about the name Imogen. I’ll have to look it up.”
“At least you’re not named after a literal shrew,” I say.
“Hey, our mom loves that play,” Bucky says, “Katherina is a badass. And Imogen is mentioned in a lot of stories, not just Shakespeare.”
“I’m still the baby. No matter what my name is,” Blue says.
“We know, Blue. We know.”
“If it makes you three feel better, Sir Toby Belch was a drunk in Twelfth Night,” Bucky tells us.
I dig around my bug-out bag for the hundred milliliter whiskey bottle I keep inside to help start fires, clean wounds, or trade in an out-of-supplies emergency. “Here. You earned this.”
“I could have used this a few hours ago.” He doesn’t hesitate to take a swig.
I know he means the drink, but I should have thought to use the alcohol to wash his wound. It only goes to prove that maybe I’m not always big R Ready, even though I tried.
“I wonder what it will be like to have normal lives,” Birdie says.
“I don’t know about normal,” Bucky tells her. “We’re all artists.”
“I think she means we won’t be the weird sisters anymore.”
“Well, you were born a renegade, Imogen Birdie. And you, Cassandra Blue, a soothsayer, and you, Katherina Honey, a protective peacemaker. Weird is good. It’s in your DNA.”
“Since I’m not the oldest anymore, I won’t have to worry about everyone all the time. I can pass that torch to you.”
“I’m happy to take it. I’ve been searching for the light from that beacon for a long time.”
“I just hope you live up to the Bucky you planted in our heads,” Birdie says. “It’s a pretty tall order.”
“I promise to spend the rest of my life trying. Until the crack of doom.”
A look passes between my sisters and me that Bucky can’t fully understand. But I think he will, in time.
Dear Rémy,
This may come as a shock, but I miss the sound of your camera shutter. San Diego is full of smiling tourists taking sunny photos. I must turn my head a hundred times a week to the whirring click, thinking you’ll be behind the lens. I’m sure you’re grinning right now. Normally, I’d tell you to stop, but I’ll allow it since there’s only one you. I’m not sure anyone else will ever view me the same way. Through a glass lens or otherwise. But rest assured, we’re still the weird ones. The missing sisters who were found by fluke and circumstance years later thanks to two boys who didn’t know how to give up. I don’t know all the details of what happened once we left the compound, but Dieter was on the FBI’s wanted list for amassing weapons. He’s being investigated as a domestic terrorist, because of what they found in his lab. Ansel made a bargain and is working toward becoming an emancipated minor. Once that goes through, we can reach out and offer him a landing pad. I guess that makes three boys that didn’t know how to give up. His sister and mother were charged with the murder of Daniel Dobbs. I haven’t asked for all the details. I will, soon, but right now everybody is insisting we take it easy. They still don’t understand what it was like for us to train as preppers and survivalists. Maybe they never will. All I know for now is that we haven’t fully adjusted to the San Diego chill vibe. We still carry EDCs full of supplies for TEOTWAWKI, only we call them backpacks now like everyone else. Bucky is slowly reading every letter I wrote him when I thought he was just our imaginary friend from childhood. I still look at him and can’t believe he’s real. Especially when he takes us out at night and shows us the street art messages he painted on our behalf, railing at the police for not finding us. To be fair, Jonesy is amazing, and our mom, our real mom, is the greatest artist ever. Alice used to tell us making art was the work of dilettantes. That it served no purpose. She was wrong about a lot of things. Making art is never a frivolity. For us, it was lifesaving. I hope you look at the painting I left with you and remember everything about me and my sisters without regret. I can’t wait for you to visit this summer. Before you ask, yes, that means you can kiss me. You better. The world could end at any moment. More soon.
Love,
Honey
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The idea for this story came from my own paranoia about the fate of the world we currently live in, and what might come to pass if we don’t stand together against erroneous political extremism and greed. With that said, enormous thanks to everyone at Tor Teen for believing in this book, especially my whip-smart editor, Bess Cozby (lover of all things doomsday prepper), who worked tirelessly on this book from day one. We made it all the way to publication by sticking together, no matter what.
THREAT ASSESSMENT:
BESS COZBY|5’7” AVERAGE—STRONG BUILD|CLOSED SOCIAL GROUP|TRUSTING
MOST LIKELY TO: fight for a story she loves until it stands proudly on a shelf.
LEAST LIKELY TO: overlook even the smallest of plot holes.
0/10 WOULD IMPEDE (PUBLISHING) SURVIVAL.
CASUALTY POTENTIAL: low
Dana Lédlová (aka @myokard_) is the superstar illustrator responsible for the incredible cover artwork. It is everything I could have hoped for and more. Lesley Worrell, jacket designer, Peter Lutjen, art director, and Nicola Ferguson, designer, for Tor Teen deserve so many thanks, in addition to gold medals, for accepting my feedback on the cover and interior pages. You smashed it. I’m head over heels for the design of this book.
Huge, heartfelt thanks to my agents, Suzie Townsend and Devin Ross, for believing in me and this story. I’m doubly lucky to be represented by such strong, intelligent women. Believe me when I say, you’re the stuff (publishing) survival teams are made from.
THREAT ASSESSMENT:
SUZIE TOWNSEND|5’3” PETITE—STRONG BUILD|CLOSED SOCIAL GROUP|TRUSTING
MOST LIKELY TO: take an author and show them dreams can come true.
LEAST LIKELY TO: let me sit on my laurels when there are words to be written.
0/10 WOULD IMPEDE (PUBLISHING) SURVIVAL.
CASUALTY POTENTIAL: low
THREAT ASSESSMENT:
DEVIN ROSS|5’6” AVERAGE—STRONG BUILD|CLOSED SOC
IAL GROUP|TRUSTING
MOST LIKELY TO: let me run with an idea until we’ve exhausted every angle.
LEAST LIKELY TO: focus and stick to the goal, even when the going gets tough.
0/10 WOULD IMPEDE (PUBLISHING) SURVIVAL.
CASUALTY POTENTIAL: low
My deepest gratitude to Mia Roman and Veronica Grijalva at New Leaf Literary & Media for working on foreign rights for this book, and Pouya Shahbazian and Mariah Chappell for working on film rights. Dani Segelbaum, thanks for scheduling all the things and giving me expert London travel tips.
Thank you to my friends, family, and fellow authors for your encouragement, support, humor, and camaraderie. I’m especially grateful to my writing confidants, Robin Reul and Nikki Katz, for always taking my phone calls, texts, and emails, and for clapping enthusiastically for everything large and small. Thank you to my longtime bestie, Holly Maguire, for allowing me the use of her maiden name for the art teacher in this story. Your artistic abilities and innate creativity will forever be an inspiration to me. Much appreciation goes to my sisters, Nia (oldest) and Angie (middle), for unwittingly teaching me everything I needed to know about sister sibling dynamics. I’m still the youngest and the weirdest.
I’m eternally grateful to the booksellers, readers, and bloggers who give of their time to share and promote the books they love. I see you. Thanks for making my cover reveal a smashing success and for always supporting me and my books. When the SHTF we will save all the books together. Christy Hayes, your enthusiasm for my books is unparalleled. I can’t thank you enough for shouting about my books from every metaphorical rooftop imaginable. You are more than an avid fan; you are a treasured friend. In case you’re unaware, the rest of us are expecting you to lead us through the end of days.
Last, but never least, to my husband, Michael, for insisting this prepper idea was a good one. Not a day goes by that you don’t encourage and inspire me. Thank you for reading every word of this book and taking long walks with me to discuss the plot. You are my true EOTWBFL.
Also by Demetra Brodsky
Dive Smack
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DEMETRA BRODSKY loves to write twisty thrillers about dark family secrets. She is an award-winning graphic designer and an art director turned full-time writer. A first-generation Greek American and a native of Massachusetts with a B.F.A. from the Massachusetts College of Art and Design, Demetra now lives in Southern California, where she’s always exploring, researching, and hunting for clues that might feed into her next book. Dive Smack, her debut young-adult thriller, was a 2018 Junior Library Guild Selection, and an ALAN Pick by the Assembly on Literature for Adolescents of the NCTE (National Council of Teachers of English). You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Epigraph
ATL: Attempt to Locate
EDC: Every Day Carry
ASAP: As Soon as Possible
CYA: Cover Your Assets
BSTS: Better Safe Than Sorry
CQB: Close Quarters Battle
FUD: Fear, Uncertainty, and Doubt
FWIW: For What It’s Worth
SERE: Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape
TPTB: The Powers That Be
IDF: Indirect Fire
IFAK: Individual First Aid Kit
SNAFU: Situation Normal all Fucked Up
EOD: End of Days
BOHICA: Bend Over, Here It Comes Again
SOL: Shit Out of Luck
BOV: Bug-Out Vehicle
JIT: Just In Time
NVD: Night Vision Device
JIC: Just In Case
SIP: Shelter In Place
LP: Listening Post
GOOD: Get Out of Dodge
DTA: Don’t Trust Anyone
INCH: I’m Never Coming Home
BOL: Bug-Out Location
LTFS: Long-Term Food Storage
SFWF: Shelter, Fire, Water, Food
WROL: Without Rule of Law
TEOTWAWKI: The End Of The World As We Know It
YOYO: You’re on Your Own
Acknowledgments
Also by Demetra Brodsky
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
LAST GIRLS
Copyright © 2020 by Demetra Brodsky
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Dana Ledl
Cover design by Lesley Worrell
A Tor Teen Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates
120 Broadway
New York, NY 10271
www.tor-forge.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC.
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-25652-2 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-76066-1 (ebook)
eISBN 9781250760661
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First Edition: May 2020