by Jeff Hirsch
“I told you. I can’t—”
“I know,” I said. “I just thought that, after they take me, they’ll probably bring me to a base nearby, right? Maybe I can try to find your dad for you.”
Her hand went still on Bear’s side.
“Your real dad’s a soldier,” I said. “Isn’t he?”
Ellie said nothing.
“What’s his name?” I asked. “Do you know?”
She nodded, eyes still locked on Bear. “Wade doesn’t think I do. But I heard my mom say it once.”
“Maybe if you tell me, then I can find him for you. He’d probably like to know you’re doing okay. ”
“I’m not supposed to talk about him.”
“Why not?”
Ellie took one of Bear’s front paws, but he snapped it away and then they wrestled back and forth for it. They played for a while, until Bear’s lids went heavy and he fell asleep sprawled out in front of her.
She stroked him as he slept and slowly began to talk.
• • •
The basement door opened again early the next morning.
This time Wade was there, towering in the door frame with a rising sun behind him and the shotgun by his side. Bear growled as Wade came heavily down the stairs, but I held him back. Wade took a seat on the bottom step, the shotgun across his knees. His eyes were dark and lidded, like he hadn’t slept.
“Anything you want before they come?” he asked. “Any message you want me to get to your folks or anything?”
I shook my head, and Wade started to go.
“What are you doing this for?” I asked. “Money?”
Wade stopped where he was, his back half to me. He looked up into the house and shook his head.
“Then what?”
“Goodwill,” he said. There was gravel in his voice along with a hint of what sounded like real regret. “These days you need just about all you can get. I don’t mean you any… Things just are what they are. Like I said, I’ll vouch for you as best I can. Tell ’em you were repentant. Whatever. I just thought, I don’t know, maybe we could get some kind of story together before they come. Ease your way a bit.”
“Will they take me to Salt Lake City?”
“I suspect they will. Yeah.”
“Camp Eagle?”
Wade raised an eyebrow. “Why? You know folks there? Could help if you do.”
“Don’t know anyone,” I said. “But there’s someone I’m looking forward to meeting.”
“Who?”
“Jeff Sinclair.” Wade didn’t move an inch. The old walls of the house settled around us, ticking like a clock.
“He’s a colonel there,” I said. “Or was. Maybe he’s higher up now.”
“Don’t know the man.”
“Really? I’d think you would, since you’ve been hiding his daughter from him for the last five years.”
“I don’t know what—”
“Ellie’s mom was a woman named Larissa Kenning,” I said, sick of playing games. “She was a companion at Camp Eagle. From what Ellie said, I’m guessing Colonel Sinclair took a liking to her. Want to hear what else I’m guessing?”
Wade said nothing.
“I’m guessing she got pregnant, which isn’t exactly something that can happen to a companion of the Path, especially if it’s by an officer. If Sinclair found out about it, he would have had the problem taken care of, so I’m guesing that Larissa ran. Eventually she found her way here to you, but she died not long after — Ellie didn’t really know how, just said she was sick.”
“Cancer,” Wade said in that raw voice. “Hit her when Ellie was five.”
“And you’ve been taking care of her since then,” I said. “That’s why you have to turn in people like me, isn’t it? Got to look like the perfect citizen.”
Wade had gone dead pale, his hand limp on the stair rail.
“Sinclair even know she exists?”
Wade shook his head. I stood up in the middle of the basement.
“Then this should be easy for you,” I said. “A one-way trip to the Wyoming border guarantees he never will.”
Wade looked at me for the first time since I’d mentioned Sinclair’s name, staring a fire across the basement.
“Doesn’t matter to you that she’d end up a companion just like her mom?”
“Like you said, things are what they are.”
Behind Wade, the crack of sunlight had grown brighter along the edge of the door.
“We don’t have much time.”
“No,” Wade said. “I guess we don’t.”
Wade climbed to the top of the stairs and shut the door with a dull clap. All the air seemed to vanish from the room. Bear began to growl.
“Wade…”
I stumbled backward as he came down the stairs, shotgun in hand.
“You don’t want to do this,” I said, my heart racing and my hands up, trying to ward off the shotgun that was now rising toward my chest. “I’m just asking you to help me like you helped people before. Like you helped Ellie.”
Wade jammed the barrel into my chest and pushed me down to my knees.
“And then what do I do?” he asked. “Sit around waiting for the day you need to trade Ellie’s name for something else?”
“I won’t. Wade, listen to me—”
“Get up,” he said. “Turn and face the wall.”
“How will you explain it to her, Wade? She knows I’m here. You think she wants to grow up with a murderer?”
“She won’t know a damn—”
“What are you doing?!”
Ellie was standing in the open door at the top of the stairs. When Wade turned, I eased back to the steel shelf I was chained to. Bear ran to join me, cowering at my feet.
“Go to your room, Ellie.”
“No!”
I began to draw the slack chain toward me, gathering it into a heavy loop.
“He’s just trying to get home,” she cried as she came down the basement stairs.
“He’s a liar, Ellie! Now get upstairs.”
“I won’t!”
“Then I’ll drag you up there myself.”
I swung the length of chain the second Wade started to move, knocking the shotgun to the floor. Wade scrambled for it, but I grabbed it first. I jumped back, training it on him, balancing the barrel across my cast.
“Unlock me,” I said. “And then I’ll—”
The blast of a car horn sounded outside. No one in the basement moved. The horn went again, followed by two car doors opening and slamming shut. Boots crunched across the gravel. Wade swallowed hard, his face a sheen of sweat. The Path officers called Wade’s name and banged on the front door.
“Tell them you came downstairs to check on me,” I said. “But when you got here, I was gone.”
“They’ll search the house,” Wade said.
“Mr. Wade!” a voice called.
“Keep them talking out front. I’ll go out back until they’re gone. Once they are, you get us to Wyoming and we’re done.”
“I’ll give you the keys to the truck,” he said. “You can go your—”
I dug the shotgun’s barrel into Wade’s chest.
“You will drive me yourself. And if we’re caught, I talk.”
The soldiers pounded on the door, harder now. Wade nodded and I backed off.
“Go.”
Wade moved toward the stairs, stopping to take Ellie’s arm.
“She stays with me until it’s done,” I said. “Give her the key to the padlock and leave.”
Wade swallowed his protest and handed her the keys. The soldiers knocked again and Wade was gone, up the stairs and out the basement door. Seconds later I heard the front door open and Wade’s voice greeting the soldiers.
I lowered the shotgun and waved Ellie over. She kneeled down beside me to undo the lock on my ankle. Bear stayed away, deep in a corner, watching her. The lock popped and the chain fell from my ankle.
“Would you really have told?�
�
Ellie looked up at me wide-eyed. She cringed when I grabbed her by the arm and pushed her toward the stairs.
“Let’s not find out.”
• • •
I waited until dark and then led Wade into the driveway at gunpoint. The night was still, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes watching us from behind every tree and blade of grass.
Wade threw one of his packs into the bed of the truck. When he was done, I waved him over to the driver’s-side door. He stood there, keys in hand, staring up at the dark house.
“Move.”
Wade pulled the door open and slid into the driver’s seat. I slammed it shut, then helped Bear up on the other side. Wade’s hands were limp on the steering wheel, his big frame sunken.
Bear gave an anxious woof at a squeak of hinges across the yard. I looked up to find Ellie in the light of the half-open door. She was barefoot in jeans, her arms crossed over a red sweater. The house was bright and warm behind her.
“Start the truck,” I said.
Wade nodded feebly, then threw his shoulder forward. The key turned and the truck grumbled to life. He looked up at Ellie one last time. The way he looked at her, it was like he was trying to will every bit of himself out across the yard and by her side. Without thinking, I pulled Bear down and held him close, his back against my leg. Wade grabbed the gearshift and started to pull.
“Wait.”
Wade turned to me. My stomach churned as I looked up at Ellie. Wade started to say something, but I stopped him before he could.
“Give me till morning,” I said. “Then report the truck stolen. I’ll leave it near the border. Somewhere easy to see.”
“I don’t under—”
“Just tell me how to get to the border.”
Wade gave patient directions, which highway to take and when to leave it for a few off-the-map dirt roads that avoided checkpoints. When he was done, I told him to go, but he didn’t move. He sat there in the driver’s seat, looking out the windshield.
“What happens if they stop you?”
“If I find out you had anything to do with it, I start talking. If not… then it’s on me.”
“Listen, son, I wish things were—”
“The longer we sit here talking, the better the chance someone sees us.”
Wade put his shoulder to the door and stepped onto the gravel. Ellie came farther out onto the porch, backlit in the lantern light from inside. I could see her trembling.
“It scares me sometimes,” Wade said. “The things I’d do to keep her safe. Maybe one day you’ll understand.”
Wade shut the door, and the driveway crackled under his boots as he rejoined Ellie on the porch. She was crying when he put his arm around her and led her back inside. The door closed behind them.
I moved Bear into my lap and slid in behind the wheel, leaving the shotgun on the passenger seat. The gearshift clicked into reverse and I backed slowly out of the driveway and onto the road.
I sat there, engine idling, looking back at the house. It was like an island glowing in the dark. I let go of the steering wheel and drew Bear up to my chest, hugging him tight with my eyes closed. He draped his head over my shoulder, breathing in short puffs that warmed my back. In that moment, the boundary between us felt as thin as a wisp of smoke.
14
We stole through winding back roads, watchful, headlights out wherever we could, following Wade’s instructions to the letter. A few times we saw Path vehicles, but we managed to pull off and go quiet in the dark. Every muscle in my body hummed, tight as steel, until they passed us.
We drove until just before dawn, when exhaustion forced me to find a place to pull off the road and hide the truck. We ate as much of Wade’s food as we could and then slept through the day. Bear snored with his head in the palm of my hand, heavy and warm. When night fell, we set out again.
An hour into the second leg of our trip, we came around a turn in the road, and I could see a line of lights miles out on the roadway. A checkpoint. This was it. Wyoming lay on the other side. I put the truck in reverse and hid it behind the bend in the road. Bear looked up at me when I cut the engine.
“We’ll have to go on foot again if we want to cross. You up for it?”
Bear curled around and began to chew at his paw. I tried to take a look but he snatched away with a throaty growl. I looked out the window, imagining the hard miles lying out there in the dark.
“As soon as we’re across the border, we’ll find a place to lay up for a while,” I said, rubbing his ears. “Okay? And once we’re home, it’s feather beds and steak dinners. I promise.”
Bear stood up and stretched, which I decided to take as an okay. I opened the door slow, sure a rusted hinge would be as good as a thunderclap out here in the middle of nowhere. Bear clambered out, his metal tags tinkling when he hit the ground. I knelt down beside him.
“Better do something about that too, I guess.”
I undid his collar and stuffed it in my pocket. Free of it, Bear shook himself out vigorously, then sniffed his way across the road. I collected the bag Wade had packed for us, then stopped and looked back in the cab. Wade’s shotgun lay on the seat, black as a snake. I didn’t know what was coming, but I could still feel the kick of Quarles’s revolver. I hated the hot violence of the thing. I shut the door and left it behind.
I led us about a mile north of the roadway and then turned east, moving as fast as I could while staying low and quiet. Bear moved along beside me, his dark coat making him nearly invisible. As soon as we were within sight of the checkpoint, I hit the ground, and Bear followed suit. The blockade consisted of two Humvees on each side of the road. I belly-crawled to get a better look.
There were two soldiers currently outside manning the gate, one facing out to Fed territory, the other watching the Path side. I was pretty sure there were more soldiers than the ones I was seeing, probably doing patrols out on either side of their position. The only thing to do was get as far from the roadway as possible and cross where the land went rocky and uneven.
I crawled to Bear and together we headed north. Once we were a couple miles from the road, I stopped and listened. Not a sound. I turned east, heading toward the border. A half mile or less and we’d be in Fed land. Not home free, but a good sight closer. I felt a racing excitement build in my chest. No more Path, no more running, no more—
Footsteps sounded in the dark.
Bear turned toward them but I pulled him to the ground and clamped a hand over his muzzle. The footsteps grew louder until I saw the faint outline of a sentry making his way down the line toward the roadway. He was about thirty feet from us and closing fast. If we kept still, I thought there was a good chance he’d walk right by.
The sentry moved to within twenty feet of us, then ten. Then five. I could hear his breathing and the crunch of his boots on the sand. Bear struggled in my arms. I cursed myself for removing his collar. I tried to hold him down but with only one good hand I couldn’t stop him as he wriggled himself free and shot away.
The guard reacted immediately, lifting his weapon and turning in our direction. I wanted to scream at Bear to stop, but a single word from me and we’d both be dead.
“Who’s there?”
The sentry barely got the words out before Bear leapt up at him, panting and wagging his tail.
“Hey, fella, what are you doing out here?”
And just like that, the guard was down on one knee, with Bear jumping all over him. I dropped my head into the dirt.
“Anybody else out here with you?”
It would be only seconds before the sentry stopped being distracted by Bear and started searching. The guard post was out of sight, two or more miles away. A low hill stood between us and them.
“Yeah,” I said, easing up off the ground with my hands up. “I’m with him.”
The guard pushed Bear away and snapped his rifle up in my direction.
“Whoa!” I said, keeping my voice down as much a
s I could. “Wait a second. No harm here. Just me. I’m unarmed.”
“On your knees,” he ordered.
I did as I was told, careful to keep my hands up where he could see them. Bear left the sentry’s side and bounded over to me, looking up at me with a panting grin like he couldn’t believe his luck finding us a new playmate. I swore that if we lived through this, the first thing I was doing was buying him a leash.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Camping,” I said. “Me and my dad, we’re back that way a few miles. Bear here ran off and I was just looking for him.”
“Ain’t a very smart place to be camping, kid.”
“I know,” I said, forcing a nervous laugh. “Me and Dad, we were never outdoorsy or anything. But Hill says men of the Path should be resourceful and self-sufficient in all weathers and landscapes. We’re trying to do our part. Didn’t mean to cause any problems. Honest.”
The soldier tipped the barrel of his weapon up. “Okay, hands behind your back.”
“But I said—”
“I don’t care what you said. We’ve got reports of an escapee traveling with a dog.”
“Escapee? No, I told you I’m just—”
The sentry placed the cold O of his weapon’s barrel squarely on my forehead. Bear growled, low and deadly sounding.
“Hands behind your back,” he repeated. “And if the dog jumps, he’s getting one in the chest.”
“Okay. Okay.” I slowly lowered my hands, pausing only to draw one down Bear’s back. “Shhh. It’s okay. We’re fine. Okay?”
Bear glanced at me and then the sentry. His growl eased.
“We’re all fine.”
I put my hands behind my back as the guard slid around me. He pulled out a zip tie and I winced as he bound my right wrist tight to my cast. Once he was done, the sentry reached for his radio. This was it. If he called us in, we were as good as dead. I slipped one foot underneath me, ready to push off, but the sentry stood motionless in front of me, his hand on the mic, poised to key the transmitter. What was he doing?
The sentry dropped the radio and then sank to his knees, his arms raised over his head. A dark figure appeared behind him, a rifle in his hands, the barrel pressed into the back of the sentry’s skull.
