Snakeskin Road by James Braziel

Author:James Braziel [Braziel, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Action & Adventure, Science Fiction, Apocalyptic & Post-Apocalyptic, General
ISBN: 9780553906783
Google: JWUT_JlQjGwC
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 9045911
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 2009-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“Don’t stop singing,” Jennifer said to her once.

“Oh, I don’t sing,” she promised. “My voice wasn’t made for that. Just helps me pass the time, but thank you.”

Sometimes Jennifer would get up and look out at the river, watching it drift and drift, holding her hands to her stomach, that hollow core of herself. She couldn’t undo it.

Jennifer hadn’t written a letter to her mother since arriving in Cairo and still couldn’t write one. The baby was gone. She should jump, end herself, but somehow, she couldn’t, not with that girl down there. Reseda. She kept seeing that girl down there. But what could she tell Mat or her mama now?

“You tell your mother, Here I am. Alive. And I’m okay. And I know you’re going to say you’re not okay, but you are. You’re alive, you have to stay alive, honey. That’s all you got. All anyone here has.” That’s what Naomi said. But Naomi had taken Jennifer’s money, stolen a piece of her freedom for herself—her words couldn’t be trusted.

Now, standing by the window, Jennifer could smell the wet wood and mildew of the room—it rained here so much. And she needed to go down.

Jennifer had hoped to get to Chicago, have her baby. She would’ve raised it with her mother until Mat came. She would’ve made him leave the desert. But she knew that was a lie—she couldn’t make anyone do what she wanted.

A trick told her once that the St. Charles had slipped between worlds. “Kansas City, St. Louis are protected, civilized. All the city-states,” he said, “most zones in Kansas City are protected. Everything between those two cities, everything around the St. Charles is a vast frontier. You must feel unsafe, don’t you?” he asked her. “The frontier could easily swallow you up.”

She had never answered him.

There was a scratch on the door—one of the girls. The girls scratched at the door like her mama’s cat, Pearl.

“I’m going down,” came Cawood’s voice. “I know you’re inside. Come down with me, Jen.”

Jennifer looked out at the maple turning red, then at the river, the wash of trees just beyond, cypress and willow trees reaching over the river still green, the sway, the turn of green in the current, green turning black in the fading sun. The sway seemed to drink from that river water, seemed to cradle the river in that late sun. She wanted to hold and twist those branches with her hand and felt another spark. How to place it, she didn’t know. How to use it for something that would keep her alive.

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