It wasn’t the only good idea Celeste had come up with. Aubrey had decided that the initial impression Celeste gave, that of a slightly beaten dog, was either an act or a bad habit or both, because it bore no relation to the actual young woman she’d come to know. Celeste had ingenuity, guile, and reserves of strength that were sometimes almost frightening to Aubrey. Whatever she’d been through at home—and Aubrey knew better than to ask—it had put steel in her spine. She was a survivor and knew how to make difficult decisions. Tearing down houses she didn’t own was only one of her suggestions, and if there was a community strategy meeting, it was usually Celeste who would propose taking a step the rest of them weren’t entirely comfortable with. Like when she said they should loot the Best Buy, even though all its goods would be useless, and in fact because all its goods would be useless—they’d have the place to themselves and could stock up for the day when the power came back on, ready to cash in. The others had demurred on that one, and Celeste had just shrugged. She had more where that came from, and she was happy to wait.
Today, though, as Aubrey came out of Phil’s house and went to the truck, Celeste looked rattled, more like the wild-eyed young thing that had shown up at her house back in April. Scott had an arm around her shoulders and was holding her tightly.
“What’s going on?” Aubrey asked.
Celeste turned away, now attracting attention she didn’t want. Aubrey saw her wipe a few tears from her eyes, more in irritation than sadness.
“It’s OK,” Scott said. “Just a little run-in, that’s all.”
“With who?”
“It doesn’t matter. She’s—”
She took a step around him, to see Celeste directly. “Celeste, what’s up?”
“I’m fine.”
“Where did you have a run-in? At the firewood house?”
“Yeah. There were more people there this time. It’s happened before, usually we all just agree on parts of the house and divide it up and leave each other alone, but I noticed somebody kept staring at me. He kept looking away whenever I turned—” She stopped, shaking her head.
Scott was unable to contain himself any longer. “It was Rusty.”
“What?”
“He tried to grab her,” Scott said. “I was around the back, and I heard her screaming, and when I came running that fucking asshole had his hand on the back of her neck and he was dragging her toward his car.”
“What? What happened?” It was Phil, who’d come outside and overheard the last bit. Norman and one or two others were joining the conversation now too, exactly what Celeste had been trying to avoid.
“Rusty tried to kidnap you?” Aubrey asked.
Celeste straightened, getting angry. “Could everybody just stop? I’m fine. He kept saying something about my dad, and that he was taking me home.”
“I’m going to kill him,” Scott said. “I am literally going to go back over there and kill him.”
Aubrey held a hand out, trying to keep him calm while she talked to Celeste. “Why does Rusty care if you go home or not?”
“He doesn’t,” Scott said. “He’s just trying to get in good with her dad. They have a very sick relationship, drugs and scams and shit like that. Rusty’s always sucking up to him.”
“My dad’s an asshole and a criminal,” Celeste said. “He can’t stand that I left, he can’t take it if anybody gets away from him, and he’s probably been pissed off about it since the day I got here.”
“How’d you stop Rusty?” Aubrey asked.
Celeste shrugged. “I stomped on his foot, elbowed him in the balls, then turned around and punched him in the throat.”
There was a moment of silence as the others digested that summary.
“Where’d you learn that?” Aubrey asked.
“YouTube.” She looked around. They were all staring at her. “What? That’s what we’re supposed to do. Right?”
“Yes,” Aubrey said. “It’s exactly what you’re supposed to do.”
“So maybe everybody could stop staring at me?”
They did. Aubrey turned to Scott. “What about you? What were you doing?”
“Watching her in awe.”
“OK. Do you guys think anybody followed you back here?”
“No,” Scott said. “Rusty was on his hands and knees barfing, I don’t think he followed anybody anywhere.”