Page 151 of Wayfarers

it’s both unbelievable to me

and the most believable thing

in the world that they’d end

up here too.

It’s Dawn, and I wish I meant the sun

peeking fresh and golden above

the horizon to herald a new day, but no,

I mean Dawn, the one who robbed

Sylvie; who slapped her and pushed her

into the dirt; who left her feeling

alone and afraid and reminded her

that this world is filled

with jackals and pirates.

Adrenaline sears the walls

of my chest and my pulse spikes

like when I can hear

the buzzing of a wasp inside

the car but I can’t see it,

because this sandcastle I’ve built

with Sylvie? I know Dawn well enough

to be certain she’ll kick it over

for the pleasure of stealing

something she can’t possess.

Knox

“Hey, I forgot I wanted to get some—” I grab Sylvie’s upper arm so quickly she startles, turn her around, and start leading her back inside the store. I’m afraid I’m being too rough but even more afraid of Dawn seeing me.

“’Munk?” Dawn calls after me. “Dude, ’Munk! What happened to your arm?” At her side is a guy I don’t recognize. He’s skinny with white-guy dreadlocks, a predatory stare, and a tattoo of a spider on a spiderweb entirely covering his throat.

I pretend not to hear her and keep leading Sylvie inside.

Sylvie looks back over her shoulder and sees Dawn. I sense through my hand her whole body tensing. “Knox. That’s that girl who robbed me at the campground.” Her voice sounds like a guitar string wound too tight, about to snap.

Dawn calls after us. “Your mom is gonna freak when she finds out you’re here. She was pissed when you left.” She sounds gleeful at my obvious distress but doesn’t seem to even remember Sylvie. She doesn’t follow us inside the store. If I had to guess, it’s because some Walmart loss prevention associate circulated her photo to every location in America and told her she’s not ever welcome in a Walmart again and if she sets foot inside, they’re having her jailed.

We get deep inside, by the fishing gear.