I stop my pacing and spin on my heel toward her. “Did you know that Jackson had an expecting wife?”
Katherine shakes her head. “No. But now that you mention it, it does not surprise me.”
“And why’s that?”
She laughs. “Jane, that is what most people want, is it not? To find love, settle down, share their life with someone. A family . . . I must admit, the whole idea has never appealed to me, but I do understand why Jackson would chase after such a dream. Regardless: Why would you begrudge Jackson the opportunity? Not everyone wants to spend their life killing the dead.”
“And you think I do?”
“I think that you have never once stopped to consider that a life beyond killing might be possible.”
“You think I like putting down shamblers, that I enjoy it?”
Katherine sighs. “I think you have accepted it as your path. But that is not the point. Jackson is dead, and still you let his choices in life upset you so?”
“Well, what else am I supposed to do? Jackson was all I had, I ain’t got anybody else!”
Hurt is writ large on Katherine’s fine features, but it ain’t a match for my incandescent anger. Anger at myself, for trusting in Jackson, and in Gideon Carr, and believing that I could one day find happiness despite the misery of this world. I ain’t got a single person I can rely on.
“Jane, you are far from alone. You have Sue, and all the other Miss Preston’s girls. Ida and the rest of the Summerland patrols are loyal to you to a fault. And, believe it or not, you have me.”
“Kate, you know we ain’t friends. We were at best uneasy allies, two people pushed together by fortune and necessity. But that time has passed. I don’t expect a lick from you, and you shouldn’t expect a damn thing from me.”
“Jane . . . ,” she begins, but she doesn’t go on, and I ain’t in the mood to wait around for whatever honeyed words she’s trying to manufacture.
“Say what you need to say and go. I’m sure you’ve got other places to be.” My gaze is direct, and she lifts her chin a little at the challenge, just like she would when I’d lay into her back at Miss Preston’s.
Maybe it’s just easier to tread familiar ground instead of forging new paths.
“I came here to tell you about the vaccine and the town meeting, but I can see that you are in one of your moods. So all I will say is this: if you want to feel sorry for yourself, that is fine, but do not sit there and pretend that you are the only one in danger. This entire town will be overrun by the dead inside of a week, and unless we figure a way out—together—we will all of us be dead.”
As if to punctuate her point the rail gun takes up its cadence, booming just outside the office. I want to come back at her with some kind of witty rejoinder, but the truth is I ain’t got a thing to say. She’s right.
But that doesn’t mean I’m going to tell her so.
Without another word she sweeps out of the sheriff’s office, leaving me alone with nothing but the sound of the rail gun and the churning of my stomach.
Make no friendship with an angry man; and with a furious man thou shalt not go.
—Proverbs 22:24
—KATHERINE—
Chapter 16
Notes on a Friendship
I leave the sheriff’s office before I start crying. Damn that Jane McKeene. She is hurt and lashing out, just like she has been since Jackson died, but directing all that anger outward instead of reckoning with it is just going to get her deeper into trouble. Between the approaching horde, her murder accusation, and the plots afoot in Nicodemus, she is going to need to be at her sharpest, and this definitely is not it.
I restrain the urge to stomp my foot in frustration, and instead I adjust my hat with a bit more force than necessary, nearly jabbing my scalp with the hatpin. Once it is resettled I take a deep breath, enjoying the reassuring grip of the corset on my ribs before I set out to find Sue and plan our next steps.
I spot her on the boardwalk a little ways up from the sheriff’s office, and she turns toward me at my approach. She is fully armed, and her scythe swings as she walks. She looks like an omen, a dark personification of the grim reaper, beautiful and relentless.
“You should get your weapons,” she says, noting my lack of arms. “That gate could come down when we least expect it, and it would be a shame for you to have to run to find blades.”
She is right, of course. Things are rapidly spiraling out of control in Nicodemus and a good pair of swords is always the best accessory. “Excellent idea. I will head back to the house to get them now.”
“I’ll walk with you. I haven’t been able to find Lucas or Ida anywhere, so I guess we might as well let them find us.”
Lucas was supposed to tell us his plan for breaking Jane out, a plan that was supposed to go into action that very night. But I had the feeling that things had changed, especially in light of Ida working alongside Gideon Carr.
It was difficult to ascertain whose side anyone was on at the moment.
We stroll in silence for short while until Sue asks, “You talk to Jane?”
“Yes. We have to get her out of there. She is . . . unraveling. Emotionally. She is nearly hysterical.” I do not mention Jane’s claims of being visited by Jackson’s ghost. I believe Sue catches my drift without any elaboration.
“That ain’t surprising. Jane doesn’t do well on her own. Did you tell her about the vaccine? And the mayor’s plan to save the town?”
I nod, and take a deep breath and let it out. “She agrees that there is something happening here, something of which we have only seen the beginning. But . . .” I trail off.
“She being tetchy?” Sue asks, her eyes taking in the whole of the street.
“Yes. She pinched a letter that was not meant for her and learned something she did not want to know. Jackson had secretly gotten married, and his wife was with child.”
Sue lets out a low whistle. “Now that is some piece of news to stumble upon. For what it’s worth, I told her that boy was never any good, but you know how stubborn she is. Like a mule, that one. Sets her mind about a bit of business, and even when it goes sour she’s still set on seeing it through.”
There is an opportunity to glean some information here, and I blink at Sue, making my face seem as guileless as possible. “Do you know what happened between the two of them? Jackson and Jane? How they met? I never really understood how Jane could take up with such a ne’er-do-well.”
That makes Sue laugh and stop walking. She rests the hilt of her scythe on the boardwalk and leans on it. “Don’t try to use that honey on me, Miss Priss. I know what you’re up to. But it’s no secret, that history between Jane and that boy of hers. Once Jane makes up her mind about someone that’s all she can see. Nothing short of the fires of Revelation raining down upon her head will change her course. She met him while out and about on one of her nightly adventures, saving people from shamblers. Angel of the Crossroads, they called her.”
I nod, because I had heard the stories back at Miss Preston’s. Reckless nonsense, I had thought back then, but I had jumped at the opportunity to tag along with her when Jackson asked her for help finding Lily. I understood then why she had done it, sneaking out all those nights. There was no freedom, no place to breathe at Miss Preston’s. Our movements were carefully coordinated and controlled, everything geared toward turning us into biddable handmaidens with killer instincts. But running along the dirt highways of Maryland in the dark? There were no rules out there in the wild.