In a Handful of Dust by Mindy McGinnis Page A

bad.”
    “They didn’t have shoes.” Joss’ voice was muffled.
    “What’s that?”
    “They didn’t have shoes,” she said, pulling the handkerchief away for the briefest instant before cramming it back against her face. “Those were my people.”
    “Them?” Lucy peered into what was left of the faces. “You were traveling with three men?”
    Joss eyed her over the wadded fabric. “You do what you have to do.”
    “Don’t know what happened here then,” Lynn said. “But it didn’t happen too terribly long ago. We need to be moving on.”
    “We’re not going to cut them down? Bury them?” Lucy asked.
    Lynn glanced at her. “Not today, little one.”
    They left the road they had been traveling for another that ran parallel to it, Lynn’s rifle unstrapped from her back and resting lightly in the crook of her elbow. Lucy followed behind, resisting the urge to touch the butt of the pistol jammed in her waistline. Shaggy woods, dense with undergrowth, shadowed them to the left. The right side of the road was unbroken grass, waving in the breeze. The wind rustled through the trees, and Lucy noticed Joss shift positions to put Lucy between her and the changing shadows playing inside them.
    It was at least ten degrees cooler in the shade of the forest, and Lucy felt goose bumps popping out on her arms. The days had been long and each hotter than the next, as they walked in their unending line. Even so, the coolness of the woods had her looking forward to the bright streak of sun she could see ahead where the trees ended.
    Lynn broke into the sunlight first and immediately stopped, the stiffness in her back making Lucy reach for the pistol. Joss slipped behind her.
    “What? What is it?”
    “It’s . . .” Lynn trailed off, disbelief closing her throat. “It’s corn.”
    Lucy relaxed and Joss let out an audible sigh. “Didn’t know you were scared of corn,” Lucy said.
    “Come see for yourself what I’m scared of.”
    Lucy felt Joss’ hand on her elbow and resisted the urge to shake it off. She walked to the break in the trees.
    A vibrant green fanned out from the road in symmetrical lines, marching into the distance as far as Lucy could see. The breeze blowing through the knee-high stalks made more rustling than the woods.
    “Shit,” she said, all cleverness wrung from her. “How many people does it take to plant that much corn?”
    “And how many more to eat it all?” Lynn asked, already backtracking into the shadow of the woods. “We’re turning around. Right now.”
    “To go where?” Joss asked. “To do what?”
    “Away from here,” Lynn said simply, breaking into a trot and leaving the road for the cover of the woods. Lucy followed, holding back branches so they wouldn’t whip Joss in the face. They cut into the middle of the woods, where Lucy scrambled up a tree for a better look.
    To the south, the road where they had found the hanged men was wide, and she could easily see it from her perch. No houses were in sight, no community capable of sowing the immaculate field of corn.
    “Anything?” Lynn’s voice, though hushed, carried from the ground. Lucy shook her head and shimmied back down.
    “Can’t see anything for miles,” she said, once her feet hit the ground. “Behind us there’s the road we were on. There’s another one to the north of us running east-west we could travel. But there’s no good cover, just grass on both sides.”
    “So now what?” Joss asked, nerves cracking her voice. “What’re we gonna do?”
    Lynn looked at the height of the sun in the sky. “We’ll head north for now,” she decided. “Cut across the grass to the next road, and the one after that if we have to, ’til we find something that can cover us better than blades of grass.”
    “And then?”
    Lynn sighed. “And then I’m gonna put you in charge, and ask you a bunch of annoying questions.”
    Lucy squelched a smile as they cut across the road and into the grass, trotting at a