The Gypsy Morph by Terry Brooks Page B

us, when I still had my family. Street people, they called us. Trash. Sometimes worse.”
    He studied her for a moment. Then he sighed. “Come over here and sit down with me.”
    She did so cautiously, suspicious of his motives. When she sat, she was careful to keep out of arm’s reach. He supposed she understood the dangers better than he did. Wordlessly, he passed her food and water in their prepackaged containers. “Here. Take these.”
    She ate and drank as if she hadn’t done so in a very long time. He watched her devour everything, barely pausing to look up. “Tastes good” was all she said.
    He finished his own meal, and by then she was done with hers. She wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her coat. She was sullen-faced and not very pretty, but her smile was nice. She inclined her head in his direction. “Thanks.”
    He nodded. “You don’t have anyone you can go live with?”
    She shook her head. “No one close. Wouldn’t know if the ones farther off are even alive.” She hesitated. “I could come with you.”
    He furrowed his brow. “That’s not a good idea.”
    “I can keep up. I’m a good walker. I could help carry stuff.” She licked her lips, looked back down at her feet. “I could keep you warm at night. I could do things for you.”
    “I’m going somewhere dangerous. You wouldn’t be safe.”
    She curled her lip disdainfully. “Safe? What are you talking about? I’m not safe here! I’m not safe anywhere! You know what happens to girls like me out here alone? You know what’s already happened, not two days after Mama died? Safe? Hey, mister, what world are you living in?”
    He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t come with me.”
    She stared at him a moment, then let her shoulders sag. “I thought you would say that, but I had to ask. You don’t look like someone who needs me or anybody.” She eyed him furtively. “Can you spare me a little more food? Just a little?”
    He gave her half of what he had brought. He couldn’t seem to help himself. When he looked at her he saw Meike, the freckle-faced girl he had left behind at the Safeco Field compound in the aftermath of Hawk’s disappearance. He had told her to run away, but had she? If she had, had she ended up like this girl—ragged and starving and alone? He didn’t like thinking about it, but there it was. All these abandoned children, tossed into a world of predators and poisons, bereft and hopeless waifs. He wanted to save them, just as Michael had saved him all those years ago. But he knew it was impossible. He couldn’t save them. Probably no one could.
    “You sure you won’t take me with you?” she asked him again. “I won’t be any bother. I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”
    He shook his head. “Tell you what you should do,” he said to her. “Go back up the road, cross the bridge into Washington, and keep going north on the freeway. First two-lane road you come to—only one you’ll pass that’s a real highway—you take it east toward the mountains. Some other kids are going that way. There are even more kids waiting for them, and some adults, too. They’re all heading for a place that really is safe. If you can catch up to them, you’ll be all right.”
    She looked at him doubtfully. “For real?”
    “Better than staying here, isn’t it?”
    She nodded slowly, flicking back loose strands of her long hair. “Okay. I guess I can try. I can walk all right. I can find my way. Some other kids would be good company.”
    “If you leave now, you can get to the crossroad by nightfall. Just keep traveling east after that until you catch up to them. Be careful.”
    She grinned crookedly. “You don’t need to tell me that.” She paused. “Is it really all that dangerous where you’re going?”
    “Worse.”
    She studied him a moment. “Okay, I believe you. Good luck. Thanks.”
    He set out alone a short time afterward, waving good-bye to her as she began walking in the opposite direction.