Home > The Host (The Host #1)(94)

The Host (The Host #1)(94)
Author: Stephenie Meyer

Jamie looked at Sharon and sighed before he answered me. “No, Doc’s fine.”

“Aunt Maggie? Is she hurt?”

He shook his head.

“Where’s Walter?” I demanded, still whispering. I felt a gnawing anxiety as I thought of harm befalling one of my companions here, even those who hated me.

“I don’t know. He’s fine, I’m sure.”

I realized now that Jamie was just as sad as everyone else here.

“What’s wrong, Jamie? Why are you upset?”

Jamie looked down at his eggs, eating them slowly and deliberately now, and did not answer me.

He finished in silence. I tried to pass him what was left in my bowl, but he glowered so fiercely that I took it back and ate the rest without any more resistance.

We added our bowls to the big plastic bin of dirty dishes. It was full, so I took it from the counter. I wasn’t sure what was going on in the caves today, but dishes ought to be a safe occupation.

Jamie came along beside me, his eyes alert. I didn’t like that. I wouldn’t allow him to act as my bodyguard, if the necessity arose. But then, as we made our way around the edge of the big field, my regular bodyguard found me, so it became a moot point.

Ian was filthy; light brown dust covered him from head to toe, darker where it was wet with his sweat. The brown streaks smeared across his face did not disguise the exhaustion there. I was not surprised to see that he was just as down as everyone else. But the dust did make me curious. It was not the purple black dust inside the caves. Ian had been outside this morning.

“There you are,” he murmured when he saw us. He was walking swiftly, his long legs cutting the distance with anxious strides. When he reached us, he did not slow, but rather caught me under the elbow and hurried me forward. “Let’s duck in here for a minute.”

He pulled me into the narrow tunnel mouth that led toward the eastern field, where the corn was almost ripe. He did not lead me far, just into the darkness where we were invisible from the big room. I felt Jamie’s hand rest lightly on my other arm.

After half a minute, deep voices echoed through the big cavern. They were not boisterous—they were somber, as depressed as any of the faces I’d read this morning. The voices passed us, close by the crack where we hid, and Ian’s hand tensed on my elbow, his fingers pressing into the soft spots above the bone. I recognized Jared’s voice, and Kyle’s. Melanie strained against my control, and my control was tenuous anyway. We both wanted to see Jared’s face. It was a good thing Ian held us back.

“. . . don’t know why we let him keep trying. When it’s over, it’s over,” Jared was saying.

“He really thought he had it this time. He was so sure.… Oh, well. It will be worth all this if he figures it out someday,” Kyle disagreed.

“If.” Jared snorted. “I guess it’s a good thing we found that brandy. Doc’s going to blow through the whole crate by nightfall at the rate he’s going.”

“He’ll pass out soon enough,” Kyle said, his voice beginning to fade in the distance. “I wish Sharon would…” And then I couldn’t make out any more.

Ian waited until the voices faded completely, and then a few minutes more, before he finally released my arm.

“Jared promised,” Jamie muttered to him.

“Yeah, but Kyle didn’t,” Ian answered.

They walked back out into the light. I followed slowly behind them, not sure what I was feeling.

Ian noticed for the first time what I carried. “No dishes now,” he told me. “Let’s give them a chance to clean up and move on.”

I thought about asking him why he was dirty, but probably, like Jamie, he would refuse to answer. I turned to stare at the tunnel that led toward the rivers, speculating.

Ian made an angry sound.

I looked back at him, frightened, and then realized what had upset him—he’d only just seen my face.

He raised his hand as if to lift my chin, but I flinched and he dropped it.

“That makes me so sick,” he said, and his voice truly did sound as if he were nauseated. “And worse, knowing that if I hadn’t stayed behind, I might have been the one to do it.…”

I shook my head at him. “It’s nothing, Ian.”

“I don’t agree with that,” he muttered, and then he spoke to Jamie. “You probably ought to get to school. It’s better that we get everything back to normal as soon as possible.”

Jamie groaned. “Sharon will be a nightmare today.”

Ian grinned. “Time to take one for the team, kid. I don’t envy you.”

Jamie sighed and kicked the dirt. “Keep an eye on Wanda.”

“Will do.”

Jamie shuffled away, casting glances back at us every few minutes until he disappeared into another tunnel.

“Here, give me those,” Ian said, pulling the bin of dishes from me before I could respond.

“They weren’t too heavy for me,” I told him.

He grinned again. “I feel silly standing here with my arms empty while you lug these around. Chalk it up to gallantry. C’mon—let’s go relax somewhere out of the way until the coast is clear.”

His words troubled me, and I followed him in silence. Why should gallantry apply to me?

He walked all the way to the cornfield, and then into the cornfield, stepping in the low part of the furrow, between the stalks. I trailed behind him until he stopped, somewhere in the middle of the field, set the dishes aside, and sprawled out on the dirt.

“Well, this is out of the way,” I said as I settled to the ground beside him, crossing my legs. “But shouldn’t we be working?”

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