“Feel better?” Jeb asked, his eyes opening.
I shrugged.
“It’s going to be okay, you know.” He grinned a wide, face-stretching grin. “That stuff I said to Jared… Well, I won’t say I lied, exactly, because it’s all true if you look at it from a certain angle, but from another angle, it wasn’t so much the truth as it was what he needed to hear.”
I just stared; I didn’t understand a word of what he was saying.
“Anyway, Jared needs a break from this. Not from you, kid,” he added quickly, “but from the situation. He’ll gain some perspective while he’s away.”
I wondered how he seemed to know exactly which words and phrases would cut at me. And, more than that, why should Jeb care if his words hurt me, or even if my back was aching and throbbing? His kindness toward me was frightening in its own way because it was incomprehensible. At least Jared’s actions made sense. Kyle’s and Ian’s murder attempts, the doctor’s cheerful eagerness to hurt me—these behaviors also were logical. Not kindness. What did Jeb want from me?
“Don’t look so glum,” Jeb urged. “There’s a bright side to this. Jared was being real pigheaded about you, and now that he’s temporarily out of the picture, it’s bound to make things more comfortable.”
My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to decide what he meant.
“For example,” he went on. “This space here we usually use for storage. Now, when Jared and the guys get back, we’re going to need someplace to put all the stuff they bring home with them. So we might as well find a new place for you now. Something a little bigger, maybe? Something with a bed?” He smiled again as he dangled the carrot in front of me.
I waited for him to snatch it away, to tell me he was joking.
Instead, his eyes—the color of faded blue jeans—became very, very gentle. Something about the expression in them brought the lump back to my throat.
“You don’t have to go back in that hole, honey. The worst part’s over.”
I found that I couldn’t doubt the earnest look on his face. For the second time in an hour, I put my face in my hands and cried.
He got to his feet and patted me awkwardly on the shoulder. He didn’t seem comfortable with tears. “There, there,” he mumbled.
I got control of myself more quickly this time. When I wiped the wet from my eyes and smiled tentatively at him, he nodded in approval.
“That’s a girl,” he said, patting me again. “Now, we’ll have to hang out here until we’re sure Jared’s really gone and can’t catch us.” He grinned conspiratorially. “Then we’ll have some fun!”
I remembered that his idea of fun was usually along the lines of an armed standoff.
He chuckled at my expression. “Don’t worry about it. While we’re waiting, you might as well try to get some rest. I’ll bet even that skinny mattress would feel pretty good to you right now.”
I looked from his face to the mat on the floor and back.
“Go on,” he said. “You look like you could use a good sleep. I’ll keep watch over you.”
Touched, new moisture in my eyes, I sank down on the mat and laid my head on the pillow. It was heavenly, despite Jeb’s calling it thin. I stretched out to my full height, pointing my toes and reaching out with my fingers. I heard my joints popping. Then I let myself wilt into the mattress. It felt as if it were hugging me, erasing all the sore spots. I sighed.
“Does me good to see that,” Jeb muttered. “It’s like an itch you can’t scratch, knowing someone is suffering under your own roof.”
He eased himself to the floor a few yards away and started humming quietly. I was asleep before he’d finished the first bar.
When I woke up, I knew that I’d been solidly asleep for a long time—a longer stretch than I’d slept since coming here. No pains, no frightening interruptions. I would have felt pretty good, except that waking on the pillow reminded me that Jared was gone. It still smelled like him. And in a good way, not the way I smelled.
Back to just dreams. Melanie sighed forlornly.
I remembered my dream only vaguely, but I knew it had featured Jared, as was usual when I was able to sleep deeply enough to dream.
“Morning, kid,” Jeb said, sounding chipper.
I peeled back my lids to look at him. Had he sat against the wall all night? He didn’t look tired, but I suddenly felt guilty for monopolizing the better accommodations.
“So the guys are long gone,” he said enthusiastically. “How ’bout a tour?” He stroked the gun slung through a strap at his waist with an unconscious gesture.
My eyes opened wider, stared at him in disbelief. A tour?
“Now, don’t turn sissy on me. Nobody’s going to bother you. And you’ll need to be able to find your way around eventually.”
He held out a hand to help me up.
I took it automatically, my head spinning as I tried to process what he was saying. I would need to find my way around? Why? And what did he mean “eventually”? How long did he expect me to last?
He pulled me to my feet and led me forward.
I’d forgotten what it was like to move through the dark tunnels with a hand guiding me. It was so easy—walking barely took any concentration at all.
“Let’s see,” Jeb murmured. “Maybe the right wing first. Set up a decent place for you. Then the kitchens…” He went on planning his tour, continuing as we stepped through the narrow crevice into the bright tunnel that led to the even brighter big room. When the sound of voices reached us, I felt my mouth go dry. Jeb kept right on chatting at me, either missing or ignoring my terror.
“I’ll bet the carrots are sprouted today,” he was saying as he led me into the main plaza. The light blinded me, and I couldn’t see who was there, but I could feel their eyes on me. The sudden silence was as ominous as ever.
“Yep,” Jeb answered himself. “Now, I always think that looks real pretty. A nice spring green like that is a treat to see.”
He stopped and held his hand out, inviting me to look. I squinted in the direction he gestured, but my eyes kept darting around the room as I waited for them to adjust. It took a moment, but then I saw what he was talking about. I also saw that there were maybe fifteen people here today, all of them regarding me with hostile eyes. But they were busy with something else, too.
The wide, dark square that took up the center of the big cavern was no longer dark. Half of it was fuzzy with spring green, just as Jeb had said. It was pretty. And amazing.
No wonder no one stood on this space. It was a garden.
“Carrots?” I whispered.
He answered at normal volume. “This half that’s greening up. The other half is spinach. Should be up in a few days.”
The people in the room had gone back to work, still peeking at me now and then but mostly concentrating on what they were doing. It was easy enough to understand their actions—and the big barrel on wheels, and the hoses—now that I recognized the garden.
“Irrigating?” I whispered again.
“That’s right. Dries out pretty quick in this heat.”
I nodded in agreement. It was still early, I guessed, but I was already sweaty. The heat from the intense radiance overhead was stifling in the caves. I tried to examine the ceiling again, but it was too bright to stare at.
I tugged Jeb’s sleeve and squinted up at the dazzling light. “How?”
Jeb smiled, seeming thrilled with my curiosity. “Same way the magicians do it—with mirrors, kid. Hundreds of ’em. Took me long enough to get them all up there. It’s nice to have extra hands around here when they need cleaning. See, there’s only four small vents in the ceiling here, and that wasn’t enough light for what I had in mind. What do you think of it?”
He pulled his shoulders back, proud again.
“Brilliant,” I whispered. “Astonishing.”
Jeb grinned and nodded, enjoying my reaction.
“Let’s keep on,” he suggested. “Got a lot to do today.”
He led me to a new tunnel, a wide, naturally shaped tube that ran off from the big cave. This was new territory. My muscles all locked up; I moved forward with stiff legs, unbending knees.
Jeb patted my hand but otherwise ignored my nerves. “This is mostly sleeping quarters and some storage. The tubes are closer to the surface here, so it was easier to get some light.”
He pointed up at a bright, slender crack in the tunnel ceiling overhead. It threw a hand-sized spot of white onto the floor.
We reached a broad fork—not really a fork, because there were too many tines. It was an octopus-like branching of passageways.
“Third from the left,” he said, and looked at me expectantly.
“Third from the left?” I repeated.
“That’s right. Don’t forget. It’s easy to get lost around here, and that wouldn’t be safe for you. Folks’d just as soon stab you as send you in the right direction.”
I shuddered. “Thanks,” I muttered with quiet sarcasm.