“Future of the species, of course,” Grimm said.
Lemon just frowned, and the boy pointed to one of the framed pieces of art on the ceiling above. It showed six figures in profile, walking in a row. On the far left was a small furry animal Lemon recognized from a history virtch as a monkey. The next figure was a taller monkey, walking on two legs. The third looked like a small man with a heavy brow, and so it went, down the line. The last figure was just a regular dustneck with no clothes on, labeled HOMO SAPIENS.
“You ever heard of Darwin?” Grimm asked.
Lemon shook her head.
“He was this old geezer,” Grimm explained. “Before the Fall. Wrote a book that turned the world upside down. Said how animals and plants ’n’ that are always changing in reaction to the world around ’em, yeah? And the ones that change the best, do the best, and pass on their changes to their kids.”
“Okay.” Lemon shrugged. “So?”
“So that’s us. We’re the change. The next step in the chain. Homo superior.”
Lemon raised one eyebrow. “Rrrrrrright.”
“Look, it’s hard to explain. The geezer did it better.”
Grimm rolled off the couch, walked to the bookshelf. Lemon sucked on her lip and tried very hard not to notice how well those pants of his fit, or study the way the muscles in his arm moved as he reached up to the shelf. He pulled down an old tome that looked like it had been through several armed conflicts and at least one serious food fight, and tossed it into her lap.
“On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection. Annotated Version.” Lemon blinked up at Grimm. “You want me to read this whole thing?”
“Got a problem with reading?”
Lemon raised her hands to her eyes and hissed. “It burns usssss.”
Grimm laughed. “How old are you?”
“Dunno, really. Best guess is fifteen or sixteen. But it’s just a guess. I got left outside a pub in LD as a sprog. The only thing my parents gave me was—”
Lemon frowned, reaching up to her neck and suddenly realizing…
“My clover’s missing.”
She stood, heart in her throat.
“My clover’s missing!” she cried.
“Take it easy,” Grimm said. “It’s all ri—”
“No, it’s not all right!” Lemon said, voice rising. “Do you know the crap I had to go through to hold on to that thing all these years? Do you know how hard it was not to hock it or lose it or have it snaffled by some damn gutter sprog? It’s not all fuc…”
Her voice trailed off as Grimm reached into his pocket, produced a thin black choker set with a small silver five-leafed clover.
“Fix found it in the truck,” he said. “I remember seein’ it round your n—”
Lemon snatched the trinket from the boy’s hand, checked that it was still in one piece. The choker was snapped, but the charm itself seemed unharmed, and Lemon squeezed it tight in her fist, feeling her heart thump in her chest.
Grimm sat back on the couch looking abashed, and Lemon felt suddenly embarrassed. These people had shown her welcome in a world where most folks only showed you the barrel of a gun. She bit her lip, tucked her hair back behind her ear again.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” she said. “For yelling and stuff.”
“S’aright,” he murmured.
“No, it’s not. It’s just…” Lemon ran her thumb across the charm, pursing her lips. “Just…my folks dumped me when I was little, yeah? They didn’t leave a note. They didn’t even give me a name. All they left me with was this.”
“I get it.” The boy smiled gently. “I do.”
Lemon stood awkwardly in the silence, finally looked in the direction of the bathroom. “So, um, I’m gonna go avail myself of these lovely facilities, and then maybe try to get some zees. Nice talking to you, Grimm.”
Grimm pointed to the book. “Have a gander. It’s worth your time, trust me.”
“Nice of you and all, but I’ve gotta motor tomorrow.”
“Got someplace to be?”
“Friends who need me. Rule Number One in the Scrap.”
Grimm blinked, obviously confused.
“Stronger together,” Lemon explained. “Together forever.”
“Take the book,” Grimm said. “Might change your mind about staying.”
“It won’t.”
Grimm stood and walked around the table until he was standing in front of her. This close, Lemon could feel the warmth off his body, see the dozen different shades of brown in those bottomless eyes of his. He was tall and he was strong and he was fine. She felt the silly urge to look away, reaching for her braveface and staring him down instead.
He held up the book between them. “Trust me.”
“Look, I’m sure it’s real interesting and all,” she said. “But where I come from, you stick by your friends.”
“I respect that,” the boy nodded. “But see, we’re more than your friends.”
He pressed the book into her hand.
“We’re your people.”
* * *
________
She stayed up all day. Tired beyond sleeping, too wired to crash. Hunched over that old beaten book and chewing on a lock of cherry-red hair. Her eyes were wide, she felt utterly exhausted. But more, she felt…awake.
A gentle knock came at her door, the handle turned slowly and Grimm poked his head around the frame, a tray of steaming food in hand.
“Thought you might want some ch…”
The boy’s voice trailed off as he saw Lemon sitting in bed, book in her lap.
“Have you been up all day reading?” he asked.
Lemon blinked up at him, as if noticing he was there for the first time. She could feel tears shining in her eyes.
She closed the cover.
Heaved a sigh.
“Holy shit,” she breathed.
“This is a bad plan, Snowflake.”
“Shut up.”
“Look, I know bein’ mean is just how you show affection and all,” the Preacher whispered. “But you keep this up, you’re liable to hurt my feelings.”
“Shut up!” Ezekiel hissed.