California(84)

A few hours later in the Church, August asked them why they hadn’t fought off the Pirates. “We said we’d tried, but that we didn’t have the manpower or any more weapons. Micah did, and he had twenty-five more men and women waiting nearby, ready to come to the Land to protect us. He had a solution.”

The Pirates were using the Land, he said. “Unless there was a real threat against them, they would continue to steal from us until we didn’t produce enough to make it worthwhile, and then we’d be unceremoniously murdered, every last one of us. I remember he’d looked at Deborah and said, ‘But before that happens, they’ll take the stronger boys. I don’t want to say what they’ll do to the girls when they get older.’”

Micah and his people were looking for a place to settle. “They needed a permanent territory, and we were it,” Anika went on. “Back then, there had been a few Forms; they were built long before we came around, probably by some eccentric artist. Did you see them on your way in—they’re smaller, but no less frightening.”

Frida shook her head.

“Those original Forms gave Micah an idea. ‘It’s a natural border,’ he told us. ‘And you’ll be protected.’ Peter wanted to know more.”

“Peter was here all along?”

“One of the first.” Anika turned to Frida then and gave her a soft smile, as if she were a kind but firm boss about to lay off her least-productive employee.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Frida said.

“I suppose it’s time I tell you that Peter was Ogden’s father.”

A silly gasp escaped from Frida’s mouth. “You and Peter?”

“It’s long over,” she said. “It ended even before I gave birth.”

“So you guys came here together.”

“No, he came from Portland with a few of the others. We were from all over, though. I’m from Oakland. A bunch of us communicated online years before, and then we finally decided to meet and make a go of it. Not that we knew what we were doing. We came out here without any conception of what we’d need to survive.” She shook her head, a rueful look on her face. “We barely had enough food. We lived in constant fear of Pirates. Melissa was very sick, and when Marie’s milk dried up a few weeks earlier, her baby had nearly died of starvation until another woman got him to eat some sweet potato.

“I remember Peter’s arguments well, because they were articulated so clearly, it was almost impossible to find fault with them. He said we’d all perish if something didn’t change. We had to welcome Micah and his gang of settlers. They had skills; they would help us. He said that Micah’s plan meant safety for everyone. Peter’s confidence in Micah convinced everyone else.”

Frida nodded.

“The Pirates only returned to the Land once more. We’d started security shifts, and Micah told us to let that little shit leave the red warning, pretend we hadn’t seen him come and drop the bandanna in front of the Hotel in the middle of the night. Micah didn’t want them to know anything had changed, and that was smart.” She sighed. “Two days later, when the Pirates finally arrived, your brother stepped out of the house he’d claimed as his own, and without even a word he shot the young leader in the chest. The kid gasped, and he fell off the horse. I remember the way his long body hit the ground: sort of dripping off the animal. Randy was with them, on his own horse, his hair matted into knots, shirtless and in a pair of red gym shorts. He was sunburned, and he had what looked like cigarette burns all over his arms.

“Micah told the others to hand over Randy right away. I think the men were shocked. When Randy didn’t move, August and Sailor came out from behind another building and shot his horse. Randy fell off. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do. Micah said to stand up. As he spoke, some of our men emerged from other houses, all of them with guns. The Pirates who were left whistled once and turned around. I guess the new kid wasn’t worth a fight. I bet one of them was ready to take the throne after the assassination.

Frida wasn’t sure if this was surprising or predictable. Her brother was capable of shooting a man point-blank in the chest. She should have known. That’s what Cal might say. The Group had inured him to violence, made it into a game. And these Pirates had done unspeakable acts to the Land, and taken one of their children. She remembered her brother as a kid: long eyelashes, arms thin and lanky, pen marks all over his hands from drawing on the butcher paper Dada had bought them. Micah had never been interested in guns and shoot-’em-up games. He’d been sweet.

“You should know, Frida. Micah beheaded that man.”

“He what?”

“He called us all over and told us to watch. He pulled the body from the ground, and with his knife sliced his head off at the neck.” She paused. “If that sounds like it was quick, it wasn’t. The head didn’t come off easily, and your brother had to saw across bone and tendons until it was removed. One of the babies didn’t understand what was happening and was squealing with laughter. I remember Sandy covered Jane’s eyes—but Sandy didn’t keep herself from looking. None of us did. What Micah was doing was horrible, but that man had taken Randy. We wanted to see it.

“Deborah had grabbed for Randy as soon as she could, but when Micah started, Randy began to cry and pull away from her, as if the Pirate were his father. Micah ordered Randy to follow him out to a Form and made him hang up the head. Micah left it to rot into a skull. There were a few more skirmishes with Pirates after that, but never on the Land proper. By the time they stopped altogether, there were five heads hanging from the Forms.”