Page 29 of Ensnared

Itake a step toward it, butLuckydrops his hands on my shoulders, spins me, and nudges me in the other direction.

“Unlessyou feel like another run-in withJaykob, we should go this way.”Hebites down on the corner of his bottom lip, but his smirk is irrepressible. “Thebarn is where he works.Andsleeps.Wherehe spends most of his time—since he’s a damn recluse.Theshed is for dressing, drying, and stocking our meat, and we keep a locker for our heavy-duty weapons in there.NotthatIhave a key.”Hepouts. “Domhas a ‘thing’ about keeping explosives in the house.”

Idon’t particularly care about the weapons, beyond being glad thatI’mnot sleeping on top of a powder keg, but the memory ofJaykob’sscathing scowl makes me step a little faster.

Ifastidiously ignoreLucky’ssnicker.

Heslows as we pass the apple tree and plucks a ripe orb from between the leaves.Herubs his thumb over its crisp, ruby red flesh, andI’mso caught up in watching the provocative slide thatI’ma beat too slow when he tosses it to me and fumble it awkwardly.

“Wanta bite,Eden?” he asks, his smile making a reappearance whenIfinally catch it.

Ilift a brow. “Kindof low-hanging fruit, don’t you think?”

Luckylaughs, then leads me to the right side of the house until we reach a hidden tunnel leading into the cliff.Thesneaky entrance is tucked between folds of rock and can only be seen from a certain angle.Thestone is rough under my palm asIgingerly pick my way inside.Itsmells cool and wet.We’reonly swallowed by the dark for a few moments before it opens out into a grassy cavern.

Thereare openings in the rock above where sun shines in from several angles, and an underground stream bubbles along one rock wall, trailing in from deep within the cave network.Wirefences enclose the space neatly, blocking off several dark, snaking trails.

Whattruly catches my attention, though, is the multitude of animals bustling around the enormous space.Chickens, goats, and pigs share the clearing, perhaps two dozen of each trotting comfortably alongside one another.Realizingmy mouth is hanging open—quite improperly—Ishut it with a click.

“How...?”Iask weakly.

Luckyrubs his hands together, delighted. “Itwasn’t easy.Ittook ages before we could get this many.Thecocks were especially bad—they kept going after each other until we started keeping them penned.Fightingover the hens, you know?”Heindicates a few small pens toward the back.Thedimples are back, andInotice the one on his left cheek is particularly pronounced.

Heopens the feed bin beside us and draws out a scoop of mixed vegetables and scraps. “Youshould have seenDomandJayktrying to get the pigs from the farms.Theyhad to take theJeep, and by the time they got back here with the first load there was shit all over the seats andDomwas just about ready to start the slaughter early—starting withJayk.”Hegrins. “Jasperrefused to clean it.”

Hestarts laughing, and my lips twitch at the image.It’shard to imagine stern, domineeringDomwrestling dung-covered pigs.

Luckyopens the latch on the wire fence and steps into the clearing, indicating with his head for me to follow.Itake a cautious step in, and immediately the animals seem to perk up, shuffling our way.

“Ittook months to get all the basics here.Iwanted cows, butDomsaid unlessIcould ride one in here, it wasn’t going to happen.Alwaysbeen a spoilsport.”Hesighs and starts scattering the food around. “Theyonly get sunlight during certain hours, but it doesn’t seem to bother them too much.Theykeep breeding anyway.”

“So, you eat them?”Iask, watching a baby goat nuzzle its mother.

Luckystudies me. “Areyou a vegetarian?Yousaid you caught rabbit and fish, right?”

“No,I’mnot, but they’re just so...”Cute.Damnit.Itrail off, realizing how stupidIsound.It’sbeen a while sinceI’veseen anything so soft and sweet—innocent things don’t last long these days.It’snever been a sentimental world, and it’s only gotten worse since the strikes.

Atwinge of guilt twists my guts.Memoriesof the small, hungry faces in that group haunt me, as they do every few days.Whatwould they have given for a home like this?

Asmall pig presses its wet little nose to the back of my bare legs, snuffling, andIreach down to scratch its pink ears, hiding my face.

Luckygrins at me, oblivious to the dark turn of my thoughts. “Wedon’t usually kill these guys.Mostly, we use the eggs from the chickens and the milk from the goats—you can thankBillieand her sisterBaa-bara over there for the cheese.WhenIgo hunting,Iusually pull us enough meat that we don’t need to worry.Rabbitand fish are pretty much a given, sometimes turkey or pheasant, butI’mafter the deer, mostly.Agood-sized buck will feed us for weeks—months if we really ration it.Weonly crack out the pork and bacon if we’re running low, or for special occasions.”

Myforehead knits, andIstraighten again as the pig gets distracted by the produce. “Butfeeding them alone would take so much work.Howdo you even get all of this food?”

Luckyplucks up a particularly fluffy black hen, nuzzling into her.

“ThisisHenrietta.She’sneedy,” he explains.Thenhe lifts one shoulder, refocusing on me. “Theydo okay.Wehad a couple shi—sorry, crap—years when we couldn’t get anything to grow properly.Wehave the veggie patch over byJaykob’sworkshop.Berries, cabbage, pumpkin, tomatoes, corn.Lotsof corn.Wealso let it pretty much run wild in here, so they get insects and worms and shi—ah, stuff—too.ThoughtJasperwas going to shoot one of us and use the corpse to feed to the pigs before he finally got the hang of it.”

God.Howcan they havesomuch?Istay quiet, just watching the animals and thinking, untilLuckystarts shifting beside me, his smile slipping.

“Eden—”

“It’sjust—Don’tyou ever feel guilty?”Ican’t stop the words; they bubble from some dark, envious vault inside me.Istarved and scraped through foryearswhile they had all of this? “Peoplewould kill for what you have.Literallykill for it.Peoplestarved, good people, who needed homes and safety and food—and you had all of this!Howis that fair?Whycouldn’t you share?There’sroom.There’sso much room.Withthese caves...Howmany people could you have saved?YouwereArmy, right?Doesn’tthat mean you have to protect and serve?”

Myhands clench around my shirt, twisting it.Theevents of the last few days, weeks—heck,years—are bubbling over into my emotions.Iwant desperately to understand.Ineed to.

Atmy words,Lucky’sface turns grim, its playfulness stilled.Henriettalets out an anxious squawk, and he sets her down with an absent, soothing rub of her feathers.

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