Page 17 of The Wild Beneath

“I’ll put a call out,” Evan says to Ruth.

“Thank you.” Ruth pats his upper arm. “Let us know if you hear anything.”

“Of course.”

“I’m going to talk to Henry.” Ruth climbs across the detritus to her brother’s tent. Walker doesn’t leave Annie’s side.

“You still have enough to eat?” Evan asks. He’d been over briefly, two days ago, with a collection of bruised crab-apples, a sack of split peas, and vegetable oil from the logging truck supplies. “I’m heading to camp to bring back more food.”

She hates that he didn’t visit again yesterday, but can’t bring herself to tell him.

“We’re fine.”

“I’ll be there for a few days. Maybe longer.”

“Why so long?” Annie doesn’t like any of it. She doesn’t like him staying in town with Isaac, camping out in one of the dry houses up the hill, working the beach at Isaac’s side.

“We’re bringing down more logs.”

Annie looks back to the excavator. Behind it, a truck waits, loaded with trees. She can’t help but say it: “Why does that matter right now?”

“We’ll go broke.” Evan blows out a breath. “Then people will have no jobs. That’s what Dad says.”

“As if there’s anywhere to take the logs? The mills must be destroyed.”

“The mills up the channel are inland enough.”

They both look at Isaac, who is back on his vending machine and growling into a walkie talkie.

“What else am I going to do, Annie? He’s my dad.”

“You could have stayed with us.”

Heshouldhave stayed, is what she means.

Evan doesn’t answer. He looks at Walker and lowers his voice. “He seems... is he confused or something?”

Annie glances over her shoulder. His hum surrounds her, drowning out the excavator. “I don’t know what he is.”

Evan frowns. “Are you holding up?”

“Not really.” It’s firmer than she intended. She kicks at the sand and uncovers a shiny object. Crouching down, she picks up a watch and brushes the sand off. It’s still ticking, hopeful in its evenness. She buckles it on.

Evan reaches out and holds her wrist where the watch is.

“We’re going to be okay.” His voice is steadfast.

Annie meets his eyes. She wants to believe him.

Raindrops start falling like they mean it. Annie sees Ruth brokering her way back over the debris with a big, dead fish in her hands.

Chapter 8

Before

“Let’s walk the beach, my love.”

It’s mid-October, the year Annie turns eight.Amphitriteis moored in its usual spot in Ruth’s cove. Annie sorts her rock collection into a divider box at the galley table.