by Anna Oney
Fiercely, she kissed his forehead and took the knife from her belt, passing it to him.
"Keep this," she said, turning to stride up the steps.
Distraught, he rushed to the bottom of the stairs before she could lower the latch.
"Don't make a sound," she whispered, shutting the door.
***
During the first day, Cooper didn't hear much of anything. Only when shots were fired did he jump from where he sat. The occasional high-pitched screaming of his neighbors made it difficult to fall asleep.
By the second day, Cooper had grown considerably gloomy. Alone in the dimly lit room, Mrs. Maples's sons stared him down, making Cooper feel as though he were surrounded by ghosts. In that amount of time, Cooper read his book from cover to cover, studied the paintings on the walls, and familiarized himself with the vast array of colors that had been used to paint the landscapes above.
As he toted the lantern from corner to corner of the space, worries for Mrs. Maples and Tom began to surface. He hadn't seen his brother for almost a week, and Mrs. Maples hadn't come by to check on him like he'd figured she would. Indeed, he was alone, but how alone were they? They could be in far worse trouble than he—they could be dead!
With that in mind, Cooper cleared the steps of the staircase, lantern and knife in hand. Lingering there, he listened for any signs of life coming from above. Nothing, not even the softest whisper or patter of feet. All was silent.
It wasn't until returning to his designated corner that the slamming of a door had him on alert. A door located close to where he was hidden.
"Look for anything of use," the muffled voice of a stranger commanded. "Medical supplies. This is where their doctor lived."
Cooper's mind ran through the invader's unsettling choice of words: He'd said "lived," not "lives." No matter what the cost, Cooper had to help her. For the first time, he was choosing to disobey her. Climbing the stairs, he listened for the sounds of their feet and waited for them to travel from the kitchen to the living room.
Cooper set the lantern at the top of the steps, and blew out the flame. Knife in hand, he raised the latch, surprised and thankful Mrs. Maples hadn't locked him in. He peered through the small opening, and the dusty fabric of the rug overlapped the door, tickling his nose. Before he could stop it, an echoing sneeze billowed out, spraying the front of his shirt.
"Did you hear that?" The other man asked. "You smell smoke?"
"Yeah," his comrade replied. "I do."
Hurriedly, Cooper closed the latch, but the scent of smoke drew them near.
"It's coming from over here," one of the men whispered. As the man sniffed about, the toe of his shoe caught the edge of the rug covering the latch and shoved it forward, revealing the door. The stranger slung the latch open, and snatched Cooper from the top step.
"It's a boy!" he exclaimed, tearing the knife from Cooper's grip. "It's just a little boy."
"Let me go!" Cooper screamed, thrashing about. "Let go of me!"
Preventing him from escaping, the stranger kept a firm grip on the collar of his shirt. Cooper was so busy trying to get away that he hadn't noticed the other intruder standing before him. Locking eyes with the man nearly knocked his feet from under him.
"Cooper?" the man whispered, looking as though he'd just seen a ghost.
"Dad?"
"Seth, man, let him go. He's my son."
"Your son? I thought you said your boys died."
"We were separated."
"You know the rules. All stragglers are to be brought back to Heskill—no exceptions."
"This is different. This is my boy we're talking about here."
"I don't give a shit if it's your son or not, Ross," Seth argued. "He's just another mouth to feed."
"Let him go or, or," Ross stammered, clutching at the pistol his wife had used to take her own life. "Just let him go."
"Dad!" Cooper cried, but as he caught a flash of blue outside of the window, a glimmer of hope rekindled his spirit.
Chapter 38:
Emma
"Shit, I can't get a clear shot." Realizing the side door was only a few feet away, Emma said, "I'm going in. Best-case scenario, I take this dude down and trade him for Cooper."
"Worst case?" Darby asked
"He fires off his gun, giving us away."
"I'm with you no matter what."
"Stay behind me."
In agreement, they crawled toward the door. Before the man wielding the pistol knew what hit him, Emma had hurled herself through the back door, tackling him to the floor. Weighing him down, Emma snatched the pistol from his hands, and tossed it back to Darby, who entered behind her. With Darby aiming at the man on the floor and Emma at the other, the stranger's grip on Cooper faltered.
"Let the boy go," Emma commanded. "Let him go."
"Get off me!" the man on the floor shouted as he struggled to stand. "I'm not the one you need to worry about! He is!"
"Oh, yeah? And just who in the hell are you?"
"I'm his father."
"It doesn't matter if he's his father or not!" the other man exclaimed. Backing himself into a corner, he stammered, "I, I'm, I still have to report the boy."
"Is this your daddy, Cooper?" Emma asked, signaling for Darby to hold her aim. "He telling the truth? This man right here, is he your dad?" Taking Cooper's nod as confirmation, Emma allowed him to stand.
"Thanks," he said, holding out his hand. "Hand him over, Seth."
"Let him go and I swear I'll let you live," Emma said. "Think about what you're doing. You're scaring him. He's just a boy."
"We're all scared," Seth snapped. "Ross, you tell her. I . . . I ain't never hurt nobody!" he cried, resting the blade on Cooper's shoulder. "I . . . I don't . . . I don't want to hurt him."
"Then don't. The man doesn't have to know," Ross replied, cautiously inching closer. "Just lower the blade and hand him over."
As Emma rose to her feet, Darby switched her aim to the man threatening Cooper's life. While the depth of their situation grew more dire, a shot was fired, but not from Darby's gun. The bullet shattered the window, colliding with Seth's temple and killed him instantly.
The crown of Cooper's head was littered with brain matter and blood. Traumatized, the boy stood frozen until Emma and Ross came to wake him.
"Get down," she commanded, forcing Cooper to the floor. "Darby, crawl to me."
"Why aren't they firing?" Darby whispered, reaching them. "You think they know they just killed their own man?"
Prying the knife from Seth's grip, Emma handed it to Cooper. "I don't know . . . but this is a bad spot."
"Don't I need something?" Ross asked, rising to his knees.
"Nuh-uh. I don't know you," Emma said, crawling toward the entrance of the living room. "We can make it to the back door if we hurry."
"Hey, I'm a person, too."
Ignoring him, Emma whispered, "Cooper, don't you give him that knife. Don't you dare." Emma paused, turning her attention back to Cooper's father. "And if you try anything, anything at all, I'll lodge an arrow so deep in your back you'll have to cut it out. Now, do you understand me, sir?"
He nodded, and Emma began shimmying across the floor. As they reached the door, they prepared themselves for the obstacles waiting for them outside.
"Where are we gonna go?" Cooper asked.
"There's a shed out behind the garden," Emma replied, looking to Ross. "Did y'all empty the bunker?"
"They took it all."
"This just isn't my week. We can make it if we run."
Before Emma could turn the knob, Darby said, "What if they're out there?"
"Pray they don't see us."
As Emma shoved open the door, the sun pierced through the fog, blinding her. Suddenly, a rather large hand appeared from the side of the house, grabbing hold of the crossbow. Before it was torn from Emma's grasp completely, she managed to pull the trigger. The bolt exited and struck her foe, but unfortunately everything was a blur.
Sight restored, Emma was disturbed to see Nell on his back, extracting the bolt from his thigh. "Nell?" she gasped.
"Don't fight him. He's"—Nell paused, wincing in pain. "He'll help."
"Who?" she asked, striding toward him.
"Me," a familiar voice whispered from behind, and as Emma turned around, she found Reed, accompanied by his rifle but absent of his hug-loving son.
Desperate, Emma looked to Darby, who glanced at her pistol.
"Empty," she mouthed, punching Ross's shoulder.
Unsure of Reed's stand in recent events, Emma remained wary of his intentions. Afterall, it had been his family who had taken control over her home.
"Why are you with him?" Emma said, cutting her eyes at Nell. "He's one of them."
"Wait a minute. I saved your life. Don't you remember?"
"Where's Tom?"
"Look, they have your man," Reed replied. "Saved him," he said, gesturing toward Nell on the ground. "Tom, well, he . . . he . . . they overtook him before I could do anythin' for him."
"You led them here." Emma shortened the distance between them, and Reed threw the crossbow to the ground, readying himself to block her retaliation. Like before, Reed was unable to prevent Emma's fists from doing their job. "You son of a bitch!" She attempted to make another blow, but he grabbed her fist, spinning her about.
Preventing Emma from exacting her revenge, Reed held her close, and growled, "Hit me again and I swear I'll hit back. Looks like you've taken a beatin' already, so don't make me do it! Look, stop it!" he grunted, attempting to keep her from thrashing about. "Your knuckles are already bleedin'. You're gonna break your hand. Stop it."
"You led them here!"
"My brother may be the dumbest jackass alive, but he's the best tracker. He's the one who traced your steps back to this place. Not me. I tried to find you on the road. When I didn't, I came back here to see if I could help."
"Let me go."
"You gonna calm your ass down?" Seeming to take her nod as confirmation, he said, "Here," loosening his grip. Picking up the crossbow, he handed it over. "You look terrible."
"They should've heard that shot," Emma said, ignoring his statement.
"They should've, but—"
"But what?" Darby interrupted, Ross and Cooper by her side, who seemed to be wondering the same thing.
"They've got their hands full. Nell here shot down four of their men, and I shot down two. Everyone's rounded up, but they need all the men they've got to keep them thataway."
"What about the man you shot and this other one here?" Emma paused, motioning toward Ross. "Don't they matter? Shouldn't they be concerned about them?"
"They're not what you'd call, 'valuable.'" Reed said, using his fingers as air quotes.
"Heeey!" Ross protested.
"What about Aiden? Where's he?"
"I left him with your group of kids."
Facing Cooper, Emma whispered, "Honey, can you patch up Nell's leg?"
"I can try."
"You got a place you two can hide?"
"The basement."
"Get all the supplies you need and make your way down there."
After helping Nell to his feet, Emma and Reed put aside their little tussle and escorted him into the depths of the dark basement. They eased him to the ground, and Nell leaned his bow against the wall. Before Emma and Reed could turn to leave, Nell grabbed Emma's wrist.
"You'll come back for us, won't you?" he asked.
"I will. I promise."
"Emma, your crossbow. Look at it." He grimaced in pain.
As Emma followed his gaze to the weapon she carried, she saw it, and groaned.
"Oh, no," she said, noticing that the cocking string had snapped in two.
"Awww, man," Reed said. "It must've broken when I threw it to the ground."
"Must have," she said, setting it beside Nell's bow. "The bolts are too short to use with the longbow. How many arrows you got left, Nell?"
"Two—"
Reed cut in. "That's not gonna help us much in the field. Not at all."
"Yeah, well, it doesn't change anything. Maybe they'll listen to reason instead of bullets." Taking the bow, Emma slung the quiver over her shoulder and turned to leave just as Cooper arrived downstairs.
"I've got what I need."
Emma took his chin, and rested it in the palm of her hand.
"You be safe, now." she whispered.
"Emma!" Nell called from the floor. "Wait. I should've never said that."
"Said what?"
"About that bow being a man's weapon. Anyone with enough strength and patience can wield it. And you've got bigger balls than any man I know."
"Thanks," she replied, amused. "I guess."
As Emma climbed the small flight of stairs, Reed followed close behind. After they reached the back door, Ross and Darby awaited their commands. Each of them stood with an uneasy look in their eyes.
"You think Tom's still alive?" Ross asked.
"Maybe." Reed shrugged, checking his ammo.
"Why is it that he's never mentioned you?" Emma asked, stepping closer to Ross.
Avoiding Emma's gaze, the man stared at the floor, ashamed, and said, "He wouldn't have."
As Emma observed the older version of Tom, she sensed a buried truth that had yet to be unearthed.
"He looks like you," she said. "When I was at Heskill's barn, did you stop by my cell?"
"I did, yes."
"I swore I recognized a voice. Y'all sound alike, too."
Stepping between them, Reed interrupted their conversation.
"They've got everybody rounded up near the cornfield. We could sneak through the stalks thataway, and be right on them."
"Then what?" Darby asked.
"Then," he paused, "I really don't know. I really don't."
"It's not looking good for our side. Is it?"
"No, it ain't," Reed answered. "But like you said, it ain't gonna keep us from tryin'."
"Right," Emma said in agreement, bringing Darby to the side. Grasping her hand, Emma sighed. "Look, the only people who have business leaving this house are Reed and me. I need you to stay here, out of sight."
"What if you don't come back?"
"Then hightail it back to the woods and begin again."
"And the girls? What about them?"
"They'll have the next best thing." She smiled. "You."
"But Link—"
"I'll make sure he makes it back to you."
"But . . . you only have two shots left."
"Two shots are better than nothing," Emma said, embracing her friend. "Stay here." Facing Ross, Emma whispered, "Same thing goes for you. Your place is here with your boy. If we don't come back, do whatever Darby says. She'll lead you to safety."
Chapter 39:
Emma
After bidding them farewell, Emma and Reed parted from the safety of Mrs. Maples's home. The road was silent other than the quiet whimpers of Emma's people coming from the crops. Every now and then, the shrewd sounds of one of Heskill's men yelling at someone to keep still surfaced.
Reed arrived at the carport of Emma's parents' home, and glanced over his shoulder.
"So how long have you known this Tom guy?" he whispered.
Emma peeked around the corner, kicked at his ankle, and replied, "That's none of your business. And in no way is this the time to be discussing such things, either."
"Fair enough. I'm gonna run over to that animal pen there." He winked, motioning toward her favorite goat. "I'll wave you over if it's clear."
Watching him cover the distance, Emma discovered her comrade was just as clumsy as she. Nearly tripping over a stump in his path, he stubbed his toe. Stomping his opposite foot on the ground, he began to curse but stopped himself from allowing the words to spew from his mouth. They were so close. So close. If he had said a word, he would have given away their position. Uneasy, he glanced over his shoulder.
Holding a finger to her lips, Emma mouthed, "It's
okay. Go on."
Reed entered the pen, strolled past the goats and chickens, and almost tripped over a turkey resting in his path. It wasn't until he arrived at the milking station that he promptly waved Emma over.
As she went, Emma made sure to avoid the threatening stump. She reached the gate, eased it open, and tiptoed past the animals. Along the way, Emma gave Ida Claire's belly a quick rub, and she soon met up with Reed.
"Crop is just over there," she whispered, her gaze locked on her neighbors, who were being forced to their knees. But she couldn't see Tom or her parents. "We'll need to cut through here and make our way around."
"You have any idea what we're gonna do when we get there?"
"Nope." She paused, rising from the ground, when the last words she and Tom had shared came back to her. "I guess we'll have to play it by ear."
"I don't like it."
"Neither did—do I," she said, correcting herself. "Follow me."
They exited the pen, and sprinted down the hill toward the cover of trees. As they made their way through, they saw Doolie's sawmill slowly come into focus. Emerging from the depths of the briar vines and sapwood trees, the smell of cedar reached Emma's nostrils. Breathing heavily, she felt sweat trickle down her face, wetting her lips.
Wiping her brow, Emma spotted her father's handmade hatchet protruding from the nearest stump. Pulling the hatchet from the wood, she whispered, "This suits me. Don't it?" Securing the handle through one of her belt loops, Emma allowed the hatchet's stock to hang freely. If you put aside my ivory skin and red hair, she thought, I'd truly look like a member of Wakiza's tribe.
Creeping toward the crops, Emma focused on the outlines of four men mounted on horses. Each of the figures seemed to be ready to chase down anyone thinking of making a run for it. They had at least a dozen others standing guard over the rest of the folks bound on the ground.
Emma and Reed sunk to their bellies, and began crawling through the stalks. They reached the halfway point, and Doolie's face came into view. They had beaten him. Out of all of the neighbors, Doolie looked the worst. Spitting blood on the ground, he seemed to struggle against the pain in his back to sit up straight. Tom, who was equally roughed up, knelt beside him. If they'd had Griffin or her cousins they would have been holding every man Emma loved at gunpoint.
