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What has Sefton done to Allison? If that bastard has hurt her, I will tear him apart. I don't care that he's my brother. He lost the right to expect me to feel sorry for him when he turned the world inside out.
Willow sprints up to me, grinning, and holds up her spear—with a fish impaled on it. "I caught one. Isn't that awesome?"
"Yes, it's awesome." I probably sound less than enthused, but I can't help that. What if Sefton starves Allison to punish her for shagging me? I need to get back to her, but I have no idea how to accomplish that feat.
"You sure worry a lot," Willow says. "Mostly about Allison, right? You're scared about what your brother might do to her."
"I have no way to get back to Allison. So yes, I am deeply concerned."
She nods gravely. "Yeah, not having cars or planes or even scooters really sucks."
"Yes, it certainly does suck."
Maybe I should tell Willow that Sefton created the apocalypse. But even if I trust her, our host is within earshot, and I still can't figure him out.
Grant saunters out of the water wearing only a pair of long swim trunks and carrying a spear loaded with two fish. They're both smaller than the one Willow caught. She is a clever child, and a brave one considering that she ran through a crowd of Echo creatures to reach Fallenmouth. She reminds me of Allison in some ways.
Grant leads us back to his campsite along the rim of the mountain. "Dax, why don't you prepare the fish while I get the fire going again?"
"I can do that."
"What about me?" Willow asks. "Don't I get a job?"
"You can help me," I say. "Learning how to gut and clean a fish is a useful skill. But if you still feel it's 'too icky,' I can handle the task alone."
She wrinkles her nose. "Still sounds yucky. But I'm in."
Willow learns quickly, and I only need to demonstrate the techniques for her once, then she takes care of the other two fish on her own. I keep an eye on Grant the entire time. He reignites the fire and creates a makeshift spit for roasting our catch, and soon we're all enjoying a hearty breakfast. Well, "enjoying" might be an overstatement. We're too hungry to care that our meal is slightly burned.
After breakfast, Willow wades out into the waves to hunt for seashells, though I'm not convinced she will find any. I order her to remain within my sight. She rolls her eyes and calls me "such a dork."
Grant excuses himself to find "a boy bush." I decide that's his polite way of saying he needs to relieve himself.
And I take the opportunity to explore his makeshift shelter.
Last night, it had been essentially dark by the time we found Grant and he offered us shelter. The interior of the shelter had been too gloomy for me to see what he keeps inside it, but I need to know more about our host. That requires reconnaissance.
I quickly search the shelter but find nothing of interest—until a spider lands on my boot and I stomp my foot to shake it off. The sole of my boot hits something hard. Metal, I'd say. The object lies buried under the sand alongside the spot where Grant had slept. Heishiding something. And I need to know what it is.
Leaning out of the shelter, I check whether Grant is coming back yet. I see only Willow building a sandcastle.
But our host might return at any moment. I need to hurry.
Pulling back Grant's sleeping bag, I dig in the sand to excavate the mystery item, which turns out to be a metal box. I brush the sand away from its top and open the lid.
A gun lies inside the box, nestled on top of a sheaf of folded papers.
"It's a Beretta .9mm semi-auto, in case you were wondering."
When I glance over my shoulder, Grant is hovering just outside the shelter. He's wearing jeans and a T-shirt now, with hiking boots and a denim jacket. I hadn't seen him change clothes, but I did notice he took a pile of clothing with him when he wandered off into the woods.
I rise from my crouch and exit the tent with the box in my hand.
Grant waits while I approach him, his expression as calm as his voice had been.
"Where did you get a gun?" I demand.
"Took it off a dead body. I didn't kill the guy. But I did take his weapon since I figured he didn't need it anymore." Grant taps the box's rim. "Only one bullet in there. Check and you'll see."
