The Mysterious Stranger (The Confidence Game 3)
He had nerves of steel and the heart of a lion. The memory of an elephant too. He could remember names, faces, bank account numbers and passwords glanced over a shoulder, and recall long-forgotten pranks and embarrassments in excruciating detail, a skill he deployed as a weapon in sibling wars, and since Rory had been an honorary Sherwood sibling, she’d felt the sting.
She loved the stuffing out of him. The electric crackle she felt when he was around. He’d always been in her corner, no matter what, ready to give her whatever she needed, never assuming he knew what that was. Best big brother a girl could have.
She never got lunch and never saw Macy again, but when she went to leave the kitchen as the clean-up crew arrived, there was her new bestie, Cadence.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” she snapped. It was undeserved, but might as well show the destabilization was working, speed things along.
“I’m on a break, thought I’d check on you.”
Like a good spy, because Cadence looked like she’d rather check on a rattlesnake. “Is there anywhere I can get something to eat?”
“To eat?” Cadence smiled for the first time and it transformed her face. She was beautiful when she wasn’t tense and scowling. “Macy didn’t let you eat?”
“Not exactly.” Macy didn’t want incompetence in her kitchen, that didn’t mean she wanted Rory to starve. “I didn’t want to bother her,” she mumbled.
“You could try the bakery, but at this time, they’re mostly sold out. I’ll walk you over.”
“It’s just out there,” Rory pointed out the open doorway. “I don’t need a travel guide.”
Cadence simply ignored the sarcasm and led the way. Absolutely, definitely following orders.
The bakery was empty except for a sleepy, apologetic baker. The general store next door had clothing and footwear basics and simple tools, an Abundance organic toiletry range, homemade candles, condiment and spreads and herbal teas in jars with handwritten labels, and five different types of rope, but nothing Rory could actually eat unless she went with a jar of preserved onions.
She was almost that hungry.
“We have fruit in season in the mornings,” Cadence said, stepping back behind a counter, on top of which was a large pile of nails, and the smaller piles they were being sorted by size. “Sometimes we have milk and yoghurt or cookies, if someone makes enough to share. We don’t believe in waste.”
“But otherwise I need to eat during mealtimes.” Who’d have figured her cult experience would start with self-inflicted hunger pains. “Guess I’ll just take a walk around and then go finish unpacking.”
It must’ve been an approved activity because Cadence went on with the nail sorting and let her leave with a, “See you at home.”
She got to the door and turned back. “Hey, you never told me how come you
came here?” She had to bond with her new roomie. She needed information and for that she needed friends.
“Same way you did.” Cadence kept her eyes down on the nails.
“You mean you believe the world is falling apart fast and this is the only safe place?”
“Of course I do. But I was an addict too. If I wasn’t here, I’d be dead already.”
Ah, that confirmed the spy assumption. Cadence had been briefed, but it would play false if Rory appeared happy about that. “Who told you I was an addict? Are you supposed to watch me in case I’ve smuggled drugs in? They’ve already searched my bags, you know, and I’m clean.”
Finally, Cadence looked up. “I didn’t volunteer for this. I’m supposed to make sure you don’t starve to death in your first week.” She shook her head. “So far I’m not winning.”
Rory grimaced on her way to a laugh. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where Zack is, and I can’t call him. Everything is...” She dropped her gaze to the floorboards and waited for Cadence to fill the blank with empathy.
“Strange. I know. Zack will show up soon and you’ll get used to being here. In a few months, you’ll wonder how you ever put up with the bullshit of the decay.”
“How did you score me as a housemate if you didn’t volunteer?”
“My cabin had a spare bedroom. They matched us up when they couldn’t find a cabin for you and your brother to share. I live alone because my roommate went into a bond.”
“A what?”
“She bonded. It’s like being married in the decay, but either party can quit any time they want. They agree to live together as partners, support each other, have children, all the regular stuff, it’s just we don’t call it marriage and it doesn’t have to be for life. It’s also no big deal. You sign a piece of paper together at HQ and if you split you go and tear it up. No fault, no blame.”
“What if you’re gay?”