Page 164 of Entangled

If they’re really smart, the Sinners will just wait us out—we don’t have enough food to keep these people from starving under a siege.

In the shadow of the porch, where no one can see me, I grip my head in my hands as the dread takes over.

These people are going to die... and I don’t know how to save them.

I sit there for a long time, until finally, movement catches my eye. Heather walks from tent to tent, checking on the inhabitants one by one. Some are silent, but she stops and talks to others. Laughing with them. Reassuring them.

In an odd way, it reassures me too.

I think of Jasper telling me I take on too much responsibility. He understands better than most how hard it is for me to give up control, but maybe I haven’t been trying hard enough... because he was right.

These people aren’t military, but they are good at what they do. Heather drew these people together and kept them there, and she’s doing a damn good job.

Better than I ever did.

I look around Bristlebrook again, and rather than seeing everything unfinished, I see everything thathasbeen done. It’s been one week, and they’ve accomplished so much. They’re organized. We have hunting teams and fishing teams, the medical team, the supply team. We have maintenance teams and rations teams. After I mentioned my concern over food, Eden started working on a new vegetable garden, too.

Somehow, despite the rations, despite the danger, despite their unhappiness, these civilians are holding together... and it has nothing to do with me.

The night breeze teases over me. It’s crisp and free, and charged with the turn of a new season. Mary Beth grins up at Heather as she moves on, in a proud, easy way no civilian has ever looked at me, and it finally hits me.

Maybe I’mnotthe king.

Maybe I never was.

Maybe I’m just general to the queen.

Heather is the one holding the community together. She’s working on their problems—on the lack of food and shelter, on their fears and feelings.

Maybe I just need to focus on my one job.

I need to figure out a way to save us from Sam.

* * *

Jaykob

“Will this be enough to save them?” Kasey asks, her hands buried in the back of the camera.

Ava shines the flashlight over the machinery as I cross my arms.

“Just screw the cap back on,” I mutter.

We’ve been gone for five days, and the distance is starting to itch at me. I don’t like thinking of anything happening while I’m not there.

The kid’s face screws up in concentration until the cap clicks into place. Then she turns it, spotting the pivoting lens that says the camera is active.

“Nailed it!” She stands, handing it over to me with a smirk. “Told you I could do it myself.”

I shrug off my dark mood.

“What do you want? A trophy?” I secure the camera high on the tree we agreed on as Ava and Sloane nudge the girl in congratulations.

Akira hangs back, stone-faced and disengaged as she has been since we left. I know the look, and she’s too fucked with grief to be much good to anyone right now. Been there. She’s moving at least, which is something.

I look the camera over before I step back. It was tight work—Kasey handled the tools well. For someone who only saw it done twice before, she picked it up fast.

Ava and Sloane stand protectively over Kasey, giving me identical, expectant looks over her head. I scowl at them. Sloane cracks her tattooed knuckles.

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