Dread Nation (Dread Nation #1)(41)
The mayor grasps my chin, turning my face this way and that like he’s inspecting a horse for sale. I jerk away from his clammy touch, and he gives me a grin. “Either way, you need to think about the larger end goal. Both of these Negroes are smart—smarter than they have any right to be. We can’t have them here in Baltimore, they’re already stirring up too much trouble. And using them for shambler bait is such a waste. We have the criminals in the jails for that. But I think they’d be useful in Summerland. The preacher might be able to curb their baser instincts, and the sheriff has a way about him that is conducive to corralling wayward Negroes. What do you think, Abigail?”
There’s movement from a chair to the left, and my mouth opens with shock when Miss Preston walks over to stand next to the mayor. Gone is the kind expression I’ve come to know. Instead, she gives me a hard glare, and I unwittingly shrink into myself.
“I have no information about this fellow here, but Jane is one of my best girls. Where is her companion?”
“Katherine is still upstairs with Miss Duncan. She doesn’t have a thing to do with this,” Miss Anderson says, answering too quickly. Katherine has long been her favorite, and whatever this Summerland is, she most likely doesn’t want Katherine sent off there.
“I do agree that Katherine likely isn’t a part of this.” Miss Preston turns back to the mayor. “But she is too pretty for any respectable woman to hire on as a companion. I’ve had several possible contracts fall through once the families saw her. She might find better use as an incentive for the men out west. After all, she came to us by way of a house of ill repute. I’m sure she knows a few tricks to keep the men in line.”
“I’d like to assign her as a Summerland Attendant, keep the womenfolk happy,” the mayor says. “The girls we got from down South didn’t pan out, and if Summerland is going to be successful we need investors, that means a better quality of people. In the event that fails, then we can set her up as one of the Duchess’s girls.” He turns to Miss Anderson. “Fetch her down here. Tell her I would like to give her my thanks personally for her valor at the lecture.”
Miss Anderson’s lips purse, but she does as she’s told.
I think about how Attendants never seem to survive much past a couple of years, how girls never come back to visit once they’ve graduated, not even the girls that don’t get contracts with fine families. “How long have you been feeding him girls for whatever this fool scheme is?” I ask, directing my question to Miss Preston.
She gives me a lovely smile and pats my cheek affectionately. “As long as there’s been a Miss Preston’s School of Combat for Negro Girls, there’s been a Summerland. The West is savage, what with the Indians and the shamblers and the wildlife. If one doesn’t get you, another surely will. But my girls have helped to make Summerland a town of the future.”
Mayor Carr’s expression goes dreamy. “Imagine it, a utopia on the Western plains, safe enough to withstand any shambler attack.” He smiles. “America, as it should be, once more. What price can one put on that?”
“You’re deranged,” Jackson says. It’s the first he’s spoken since Miss Anderson clapped us in irons, and the expression on his face is murderous, like he’d love nothing more than to gut the mayor and Miss Preston. I reckon my face looks about the same.
The mayor laughs. “Such fire! I do admire the Negro’s ability to continue fighting even in the face of overwhelming odds.”
A muscle in Jackson’s jaw flexes, but he says nothing. The mayor continues. “Summerland is a city on a hill, a place where people can raise their families without worrying about any of this nasty shambler business.”
“You mean, what Baltimore County is supposed to be?” I shoot back at him. “I’ve seen packs of shamblers in the woods. I’ve killed them. All of that talk about making the county safe, about it being shambler-free . . . It was all a lie.”
The mayor shakes his head at this. “It wasn’t a lie. Our walls, our patrols, the Native and Negro Reeducation Act, it was all working. For a while. But in the last year, we’ve come to realize that, no matter how hard we push, those damn shamblers push back even harder. These eastern cities are lost, girl. Finished. We can’t rebuild America on a foundation rotted by war and plague. We need to start over again. Summerland is that start.”
“You sent the Spencers there, didn’t you?” Jackson asks.
Mayor Carr laughs. “The Spencers went willingly once they heard my offer. Safety is a precious commodity in these turbulent times.”
Jackson’s shoulders fall. “But the Spencers are Egalitarians. They were rallying against your senatorial campaign.”
The mayor gives an eloquent shrug. “It’s amazing what a few months fighting the undead and struggling to survive can do to change a man’s perspective. Some of my best allies were once Egalitarians. People care less about doing the right thing than they do about being safe, especially when they have little ones to look after. Ah, and here is our third musketeer.”
The door opens, and Katherine enters, her smile fading quickly when her eyes land on me and Red Jack. “Wait, what is this?” she asks in surprise.
“I am afraid, Miss Deveraux, that this is both hello and good-bye,” says the mayor. He nods, and Miss Anderson takes Katherine’s weapons and puts a pair of irons on her as well, although judging by Miss Anderson’s face it pains her to do so.