“Thanks to Knox, everyone calls me that,” James said. “Even though I’m one of the youngest guys out here. When my dad and I first came to the co-op, Knox said I was taking life way too seriously. He said I acted like an old man at the end of his time. Since then, Knox has taken me on as some kind of special project.”

“Well, I like him,” I said.

“Yeah, me too. He’s a good guy, and the closest thing to a friend I’ve got since Cole died.”

“I’m sorry about using Cole’s name at The House,” I said. “I panicked, and his was the first name that came to mind. Well, after your name, of course. I just thought it would be safer for you if I used another name.”

James stopped walking, turning me to face him. “You sound so sure of yourself whenever you talk about me, like you really do know me.”

Moving slowly, I stepped closer. “I do know you.” I locked eyes with him, inching closer still. “Let me show you,” I said, my lips a whisper away from his.

Stretching up, I wrapped my arms around his neck, gently pulling him closer. I took a steadying breath, then pressed my lips against his. As I lingered there, I felt his lips part and then I was lost in him. James reacted with an equal gentleness that thinly masked a purpose. Pulling me closer, he kissed me deeply.

This was the way I’d remembered being with him. What I’d been longing for, the two of us alone again in our own world. When we broke apart, James held me close, my head resting on his chest. We stood that way for a few minutes before he remembered where we were. James pulled away slowly, then bent and kissed my forehead.

“I think we need to keep moving.” He took my hand, leading me into the co-op.

The co-op wasn’t one building, but rather a smattering of lean-tos and hastily erected tents. The plastic walls of each structure resembled a long gray rainbow. Even though there were no signs, it was still easy to figure out what was sold at each shelter. One person had different types of flat breads; another had a variety of jerky made from unknown animals. The area that was the busiest was the one that had apples, oranges, and a few bananas.

“How is this possible?” I asked.

“Not everyone inside of Judaculla is bad. We’re able to get jobs during the harvest season with some of those who live on the outlying farms. We work their fields, and they pay us in whatever crops they’re growing. We bring those things here to barter.