Gertie wouldn't change my mind. She couldn't. I still planned to drag my group across the country. There was no time for self-reflection. There was only moving forward.
Seeing my expression, Gertie let out a frustrated sigh. "You and your group can stay here through the storm. Jaquan also said he promised you supplies." She said the word as though she found it distasteful. "I looked through what you have and it seems to me that you really don't need much."
"So, what does that mean? You have nothing to give us?" I knew that I was pushing my luck, but Gertie had managed to put me in a terrible mood and I wasn't about to make anything easy for her.
Gertie almost snorted a laugh. "I didn't say that. We keep our promises. What I noticed you're missing is a map. Won't your group need one at some point?"
My heart skipped a beat. We had people like Carlos who had known a lot of the nearby areas, but the further we traveled, the more guesswork was put into which roads we had chosen to take. I had planned on looking for a map as we went.
"We could use one," I said, trying to hide my excitement.
Gertie smiled readily at my pathetic attempt, releasing some of the tension between us. "Well then, you really did come to the right place. If there is one thing we have too much of, it's maps. Helps to be next to a gas station, don't you think?"
"I guess so."
"Hopefully the storm won't last more than a day or two. Does your group already have a plan or were you just moving to move?"
I hesitated before answering, but I didn't think telling Gertie a hint of our plans would cause any harm. "We're headed east."
"Hmm, how far?" Gertie looked pensive as she almost began to pet one of her plant's leaves.
"Why?"
"You don't want to go anywhere near Chicago. Nothing out east can make traveling through there worth it. I've heard it's hell on earth."
I wasn't going to let her words scare me. After everything we'd faced, I was confident that so long as my group was smart and careful, we could skirt around the worst of it. I also had no plans of taking us through the heart of the city. We would take the longest way around that wouldn't also completely derail our trip. The last thing we needed was to run out of food for our journey by wasting time and energy on avoiding Chicago altogether.
"We can handle it," I answered as good-naturedly as I could.
"No, you can't." Gertie shook her head at me as though she once again found me disappointing. "But who am I to stop you? Let's change the subject – what can you tell me about what's going on in the north?"
Deciding to not rile up our host further, I indulged her, telling her everything from my time in Milwaukee to the thieving and looting I'd seen – and sometimes partook in. She was an avid listener, constantly asking questions and wanting more details. At first, I'd thought that I must have been doing a good job storytelling, but that was only because of how charming Gertie's responses were. Her enthusiasm was contagious and her ability to focus on my every word tricked me into almost having bolstered my own self-importance.
Frankly, the woman was brilliant. It took me a while to catch on, but it suddenly occurred to me where Gertie's real power was – in information.
By letting transients stay, she was not only able to trade goods but information as well. In doing so, she had a bird's-eye of the world around her that I had thought was a thing of the past. She knew what was coming long before it arrived. For her, guns really could be a secondary measure.
My respect for her grew immensely and despite our differing beliefs, I found it difficult to dislike her. I didn't withhold information to spite her for her earlier judgment, instead, I went into as much detail as I could. If she had managed to find some way to keep so many people alive and well with the knowledge she'd gained, then she'd earned it.
A few hours must have gone by before the woman standing at the door knocked on it with her knuckles. Gertie had been asking me more about the guard structure Milwaukee had set up and seemed disappointed at the interruption.
"Is it almost time?" Gertie asked loudly enough to be heard through the glass.
The woman nodded.
"Shucks," Gertie said as she stood up straight. "I'd like to continue this – if you wouldn't mind – maybe tomorrow?"
"Sure." I was curious if I could get anything out of her in return.
Gertie began to move about the greenhouse, making sure everything was in its proper place. "You said it was your job to mend clothing, right?"
"What?" Her question caught me off-guard. It had been a passing statement to explain why I hadn't left my assigned apartment often. It wasn't a detail I'd thought she'd even picked up.
Seriously stellar listening skills.
"Do you also knit?" She looked at me expectantly.
"I do, why-"
"That's great!" she exclaimed, cutting me off. "A few outings ago, we found a yarn shop and now we have more yarn than we know what do with. I have some people working on projects during their downtime, but I'd really like to get a couple of scarves or hats done. They're great for trading, especially in this weather."
"And so you want me to knit?" I asked, feeling strangely sick at the prospect.
Gertie pursed her lips in the same way Prisha did when she thought I was being unreasonable. "I wouldn't ask you to do it for free. And if you're staying here anyway, why not put your time to good use?"
I eyed her skeptically. "What could you offer us? Didn't you say that my group didn't need much?"
Gertie took a moment to think before answering. "How many scarves can you get done in the next few days? What if you stayed here for three?"
I had become extremely efficient at scarves during my time locked up. My stomach twisted at the mere thought of touching needless again, but I'd do it if Gertie had an offer worthwhile. "Depends on how bulky the yarn is, but using I can probably make two a day."
Gertie looked thrilled at the prospect. "I need to talk to some people in my group, but if you can make me at least four scarves during your time here, I'll make it well worth your while."
I had no sufficient reason to turn her down. "Alright. You have a deal."
"Wonderful. Then I'll just have Tory take you back for now and someone will drop off your yarn and needles in a bit. Sound good? Need anything else?"
"No, I think we're good." My stomach ached.
Gertie made a motion and I heard the glass door open behind me. "Can you take Kate back?"
"Okay, I just need to tell someone to move the thing first, is that okay?" The woman I assumed was Tory asked. Her question was oddly phrased, but as Gertie held her power in gaining information, it also was clear she kept it by denying information as well.
Gertie gave the woman a nod. "Of course."
I could hear the door slide again as it closed and it gave me the urge to test my waters. After everything I'd given, I wanted to see if I could get a little back. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"
Gertie's gaze flicked to me and her relaxed posture melted away as though it was nothing more than wax on hot steel. "You're welcome to ask," she said kindly enough. "Depending on your question, I may or may not answer."
Fair enough.
"How many people do you have here?"
Gertie's eyes narrowed as she searched me for my motives. I had none to hide. She had already outplayed us and even if the numbers were fewer than I believed, I wasn't about to rob her or her group. Secrets were her bread and butter, but if we were going to be at her mercy for a few more days, I wanted to see how far the trust would extend.
The door opened behind me again before she could answer. I turned to face Tory and gave her a small smile as she waved at me to follow her.
"Stick close," Tory warned.
I stepped through the doorway and as Tory was about to close it, I caught sight of Gertie's wry smirk. I had tested the waters and evidently, she wanted to test them too.
"Forty-two."
---
"Touch it one more time and I will wrap that yarn so tight around your finger that you'll never be able to use it again," I warned Ray. He dropped the yarn as though it was on fire, holding up his hands as he stood up and moved across the room to sit next to Ian instead.
My group had never done well with boredom and the more I focused on my knitting project, the more they seemed to feel the need to insert themselves into it by either petting the fabric or asking questions about it.
At first, they had wanted to know why I'd been gone so long, but I gave them short answers. As displeased as they were to be kept in the dark, I wasn't about to spill everything I knew while Big Al listened in and gave commentary.
Everyone seemed to get along with Big Al – especially Ian. They all seemed to have bonded more during the short time I was gone. But, it was a good thing given Gertie's group could squash us at a moment's notice.
Forty-fucking-two.
I almost couldn't believe it. Looking back, however, it all made sense. They weren't hiding their numbers to make themselves look bigger, but rather, they hid their numbers so they could be underestimated. Gertie knew to show just enough to be intimidating and that was it.
How do they even fit in that house?
There had to be people living in the gas station and in the barn with us as well to make it work. I wondered if they rotated in shifts, giving everybody some time in the house. I couldn't even fathom how Gertie managed it all. It was more than I would have ever guessed.
"And then, then she says, 'it's not an apple. It's an onion!'" Big Al laughed at what I assumed was the conclusion to his story. I'd mostly been ignoring the chatter, wanting to concentrate on knitting as fast as possible so I would never have to do it again.
Ian chuckled and despite myself, I tuned into him. He had a genuine smile on his face that warmed my heart. "That happened to me once too."
"Really?" Big Al asked, sounding eager to hear more.
"It's not as good as yours. But, I was on patrol one time, and my friend, Chris-"
I froze. It was like all the air had left the room. The happy banter that had been so easily playing out came to a sudden stop the moment Chris's name left Ian's lips. He had stopped himself from whatever he was going to say, but it was far too late.
Ian's eyes met mine as the blood drained from his face. He studied me to see my reaction, but I wasn't sure what kind of reaction I was supposed to have. I looked down at my needles, forcing them to move in a short choppy rhythm as I took a deep breath in through my nose.
Chris was dead. Neither one of us could change that. We hadn't talked about him or how he had been a part of both of our lives, bringing us together – not since things had begun to shift between us. Ian saying his name so casually threw me.
"I uh." Ian cleared his throat. "Never mind."
"No, no!" Big Al sounded almost alarmed by the sudden end to their story-sharing. "Tell me."
I kept my eyes firmly on my hands.
"That... that story wasn't a good one." Ian's voice sounded a little raspy to my ears, almost as though there was some emotion mixed in that I couldn't easily read. "I have a different one."
"Oh! I can't wait."
"My friend once told me this story," Ian started again. "When he was just out of college he was dating this girl. Well, one day he bought her this massive bouquet of flowers. He said that she'd always wanted to get flowers but had never gotten any before and had been dropping hints for weeks."
My hands stilled. My heart was in my throat as I hung on Ian's every word.
"So, that day he gives her the flowers and she is over the moon about them, taking pictures with them and everything. That's when he gets this call from his sister, asking where he is. You see, he forgot it was his niece's birthday and –"
"Uh oh. You can't forget those." Big Al's interruption made me almost drop a needle.
"No, no you really can't. Anyways, he's already twenty minutes late for her birthday and is panicking. He doesn't have a gift for his five-year-old niece and he knows his family will kill him if he shows up empty-handed. So, his girlfriend, being the person she is, she takes her flowers out of the vase and –"
"She gave the kid her flowers?" Big Al gushed.
Ian continued, "And she started to weave the flowers together into a flower crown. According to my friend, it was the most beautiful one he'd ever seen."
Big Al chuckled. "Must have fallen in love with her right there and then."
"Yeah." I could almost hear the smile in Ian's voice. "Yeah, he probably did."
I felt the heat rise up my neck. No matter how much I wanted to get my shaking hands to move, I couldn't do anything but helplessly grip the needles.
Why did Chris tell him that?
"Excuse me," Ian said. I heard him move next to me. I didn't even want to know how many people were watching us as Ian sat himself down next to me. Luckily, Prisha picked up a conversation with Big Al that soon had the room bursting with noise again.
"I need to tell you something." Ian's voice was barely above my whisper, but it reverberated through my whole body.
Why did Ian tell that story?
"You once accused me of hiding something."
The only thing I had ever accused him of was hiding something to do with Chris. It was an accusation I'd buried in the furthest recesses of my mind. I'd chosen to trust Ian. I'd put all other thoughts away, choosing to believe there was nothing there.
I had made my decision.
Please, don't.
"I didn't kill Chris."
I let out the smallest breath.
"But, I'm the reason he's dead."