* * *
GOGO INSISTED they drum up a plan, but Vern was the plan. She was the bullet, the arrow, the poison, the disease.
“You’re not invincible,” Gogo reminded her. Vern was no longer sure that was true. Queen’s death had come only at her own hands. Though approaching ninety, she’d barely aged since the fungus had first found her.
If Gogo was right and Vern had her death to worry over, there was no level of detailed planning that would shield her against the full forces of the occupationist entity that called itself the United States.
Vern had learned something true about herself over all these years. She couldn’t not fight. If she died, so be it.
They sped toward Cainland in a pickup truck Gogo had boosted from a strip mall with a Chinese-food buffet, an office supplies superstore, and a Goodwill. On Gogo’s recommendation, Vern ditched Ollie’s phone, not wanting to be tracked, and picked up a couple of burners. Vern tossed Ollie’s head out of the window as they hit the highway.
“I’m gonna send a couple of SOSs out through my network,” Gogo said, “see if I can get some media attention at Cainland. It’ll help if there’s eyes.”
Vern shrugged from the passenger seat. People watched others commit atrocities all the time. Seeing didn’t transform into doing.
“I know you think it doesn’t make a difference,” said Gogo, once again revealing that Vern didn’t hide her feelings well. “I’m not sure I think it does, either. But it might, and it certainly can’t hurt. You have to at least give people the chance to act. People can surprise you.”
Vern knew that well, but not how Gogo meant it. Ollie had surprised Vern. So had her mother, revealing she’d known all along about Cainland drugging them. “Do what you want, I’m not going to stop you.” Gogo proceeded to use voice-to-text to message friends, acquaintances, and ex-lovers across encrypted channels. She knew people everywhere.
The woods changed shape around them as the truck barreled toward the home Vern had spent years evading. She waited for the fear to set in, but she felt only anticipation. Lucy’s words—Langston’s words—ignited her. I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young. We both did. Vern was not alone.
* * *
THEY DIDN’T STOP DRIVING until they reached the Cainland perimeter. Neither had slept, but weariness only made the adrenaline pump harder. Four and a half years ago, Vern had fled, drunk on cough medicine, not yet a mother, a woman, a demigod. She returned now sound of mind and body, fortified. They would meet their creation.
Vern opened the door and leapt from the truck before Gogo had pulled to a stop. “Vern!” Gogo called, swerving to the side of the road and slamming the brakes. She followed Vern out of the pickup, running to keep up.
“So much for eyes,” Vern said snidely, more embittered by the lack of spectators than she should’ve been for a woman who was used to expecting the worst.
Gogo checked her phone, scrolling the screen with her thumb. “Sounds like a few people showed up but cops chased off the ones they could and arrested those they couldn’t. There’s a contingent hiding out in the woods. Might be useful backup?”
“Maybe you should go wait with them,” said Vern.
Gogo shook her head furiously. “I’m going with you. Don’t think you can stop me.”
Vern plowed ahead through browned grass toward the gates of the Blessed Acres. “You’re a liability,” she said.
That didn’t stop Gogo. “I’d rather I slow you down than you be alone. We fight together.”
She was armed, at least, with Ollie’s semi and her own hunting rifle. More than a few of the pockets on her leather vest, which she wore over a barely there spaghetti-strap top, had knives.
“Stay close,” said Vern. For once, Gogo was entering her world, where Vern was the master, not the student.
“I will not leave your side,” assured Gogo.
As they approached, Vern saw armed soldiers, which was unusual. When Ollie didn’t check in with whomever she was supposed to check in with, the authorities had sent a small vanguard. There were only three. Vern could take them down easily.
“Stand back!” one called.
“Not another step!” said his buddy. Vern kept walking, Gogo a pace behind her. Motion-activated lights flipped on as they crossed an invisible threshold.
High fluorescent light burst from circular lamps posted on the fence surrounding the borders of the Blessed Acres. Their bright white flare would’ve slowed down anyone, but Vern, her vision compromised to begin with, was completely blinded. It would take her eyes several moments to adjust.