by Gwen Cole
I shake my head, telling it I won’t give in.
“Avery, go.” She hesitates at first, keeping her hand on my arm, and then finally goes, her footsteps ending in air.
I back away toward the door, my finger wanting to pull the trigger but my heart telling it not to. It takes everything in me not to do it.
“This isn’t the last you’ll see of me,” he warns, a small smile still taunting me.
“You better hope it is.”
I holster my gun and take a running jump onto Cade, leaving Torreck to watch us ride away. The horses slow until the train passes us and then bolt across the tracks for the south.
I glance back to see only the dust following us.
22.
Avery
We ride until we’re sure they’re not following us. The horses are tiring and yet they keep moving forward, knowing the importance of our escape.
But no matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about Torreck and the fact we let him live. The recognition in his face when he saw me brought back the fear I used to feel when he rode into town every month. It hasn’t changed. There’s a reason that man is still alive, and every day I had wished someone would put an end to him. Seph had the chance and didn’t take it. Why? Especially after he realized Torreck was the man who killed his father. He had the shot and he just left him there. Now he’ll hunt us down until we’re the ones at the end of his gun.
At the sight of a river, we slow down. I let Jack drink as I eye the river, wondering how deep it is. It’s wide but appears to be shallow enough to cross without getting too wet.
My heart still races from the train, and I can’t keep my mouth shut any longer. I turn to Seph and ask, “Why did you let him live?”
I don’t bother hiding my anger. That man has ruined each of our lives in a blink of an eye, and when Seph had the moment to finish him, he did nothing.
Not only does Seph not say anything, but he looks away. Frustration builds and I kick Jack forward, across the river. Water splashes against my boots and I hear Seph and Cade starting after us.
“Avery—”
I turn Jack around sharply, stopping them in their tracks. “What, Seph?”
Seeing his eyes, I almost let it go but can’t.
“I just …”
“You just what? You found out he was the one who killed your father and you did nothing.” Then something else makes sense. “He’s the one who gave you the scars on your back,” I say. “Isn’t he?”
Seph doesn’t deny it, proving me right. He just sits there, trying to tell me something without actually speaking.
I turn Jack back around and continue across the river. Seph hesitates but follows, and I almost don’t want him to. I do but I don’t at the same time. I curse life for being so confusing. Or maybe it’s confusing with boys.
On the opposite shore there’s a hill that we’ll have to climb. I dismount on the stony bank and am leading Jack by the reins when Seph stops me with a hand around my wrist. It makes my heart lurch because I never heard him coming.
I slowly face him, knowing my anger will go away as soon as I see his face. It’s like trying to be angry with Finn—it never lasts.
Seph bites the corner of his lip and then says, “I was nine when I saw him for the first time. He pressed a gun to my head to threaten my dad to tell the truth. But he shot him anyway. For no reason at all.”
“Seph, I—”
He shakes his head, stopping me. “He only let me live because he thought he was doing me a favor. He wanted to make me into someone I’m not. That’s why I didn’t kill him, Avery.” He lets my wrist go and I wish he hadn’t. “It’s because I don’t want to become like him. I don’t want to be the person he thought he was making me into.”
Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen him kill anyone. Not the guard on the train, not even the gang following us out of Houston—he shot the rider in the shoulder that brought him off his horse. I just thought he missed.
“You are nothing like him,” I say, trying not to get lost in his eyes, which is almost impossible when he’s this close. “And you never will be, because of this.” I press my hand over his heart, feeling it beating against my palm. “Because you didn’t give into revenge.”
“Not yet anyway. You don’t know how close I was.” I pull my hand away and he catches it in his, holding tight. His hand is calloused and strong, warmer than mine. “If you weren’t there, I might’ve.”
I shake my head. “Not even then.”
We stare at each other. The sky rumbles above us and for the first time in weeks, it rains. Drops of water splash into the dust, sending more up into the air until it comes down harder, keeping the dust anchored to the earth. We’re soaked in seconds, neither of us making a move to find shelter.
Seph stands there with a wet bandana around his neck, his gun still belted crookedly around his hips, his shirt more gray than white in the rain. But everything tells me he doesn’t care.
Because I don’t either.
My heart urges me forward so hard it hurts. But I can’t move.
I make a weak attempt to distract us from the moment, not knowing what else to do. “He’s going to come after us.”
Seph shakes his head and steps toward me. “I don’t care.”
Then he’s kissing me. One hand is skimming across my ear while the other pulls me in. His lips are wet and taste like rain and are softer than I imagined. My whole body shivers, hot and cold at once, yearning to have him closer like it can never be enough. Somehow my hand is on his chest, feeling everything through his shirt—the curves of his muscles and his beating heart. His lips tell me he wants this as much as I do. That we’ve already waited too long and have to make up for lost time.
How I haven’t known this before now is beyond me.
Seph slowly pulls away and I open my eyes. Rain drips from his hair and I can see every shade of green staring back.
He gives me the smallest smile. And kisses me again. This time, soft—
We break away when Finn calls my name. I turn to see him appear on top of the hill. I glance back at Seph. He’s already put a few feet of distance between us like it never happened, gone too soon. My heart still pounds because of it, and I worry Finn will know the moment he looks close enough.
I grab Jack’s reins and start up the hill, doing everything I can to calm down. Finn barely lets me crest the hill before he engulfs me. Everything about him is familiar and it almost feels like we’re back home again.
I pull away and say, “Hey.”
Finn shakes his head and really looks at me. “I still can’t believe you’re here. How—” His mouth is open but no words come out.
“It’s a long story.”
“And one you’ll have to tell me.” He looks over my shoulder, where Seph stands silent. “Thank you.”
Seph doesn’t say anything and I don’t turn to see his response. My heart still pounds from what happened, still remembering his lips on mine. I feel my cheeks heat before I can stop it.
“I don’t know about ya’ll,” the guy Seph freed says, and I look over to see him next to the horses we stole from the train, “but I would rather not be here when the Lawmen come tracking us.”
I haven’t really gotten a good look at him until now, too busy trying not fall off a train and then get killed, but I’m not sure how I feel about him being here. He’s got those lazy eyes men get from spending too much time in the Wild, dark tanned skin, and messy black hair. Probably a few years older than us. But if Seph trusts him enough to have him here, I’ll try to do the same.
“Won’t the rain help with that?” I ask.
He gives me a smile, showing me his canines. “Not in the slightest.”
“I don’t know how much farther the horses can go,” I say, turning to Seph. Cade and Jack have already had a long day and their coats were shining before it rained.
“He’s right, though,” Seph says. “They’re gonna have to carry us a bit farth
er before we make camp. And this rain won’t stay for long, so the bigger head start we have, the better.”
Finn says something I haven’t thought of before now. “But where are we going?”
Nobody has an answer to that until Seph says, “What about south?”
“What’s south?” Finn asks.
He shrugs, yet I know him well enough now to bet that he’s hiding something. I don’t mind going south because it’s not going backwards. I knew I was leaving home for good when I started this journey.
“You don’t wanna go south,” the stranger with us says, making us all turn.
Then I ask, “Who are you?”
His face doesn’t change—stuck in that half smirk and staring eyes. “Rami.”
“Why not south, Rami?”
Rami looks at each of us and says again, in the same tone of voice, “You don’t wanna go south.”
The rains stops then, and we all look up. Seph couldn’t have been more right. He rubs his face in his hands and asks Rami, “Just tell us why we shouldn’t go south.”
“The people down there … they don’t just kill you.” Levi flashes in my thoughts. Then Rami nods to Seph. “Why don’t you go toward your people?”
“My people?”
He nods down to Seph’s wrist, who then fingers the cloth tied around it. “They’re to the west,” Rami says. “That’s probably the best place to go right now if the Lawmen decide to follow us. Plus,” he says, shrugging, “I’ve never been west.”
“And how do we know you’re not lying and taking us into danger?”
“You don’t, but why would I wanna meet those kinds of people?” He’s not smiling anymore, and even though I don’t know him at all, he almost looks worried.
Finn looks to me and then I look to Seph. He stands next to Cade and says, “West it is then.”
23.
Seph
I’ve been alone most of my life. Just Cade and me. Riding wherever we want and trusting no one. Now as I ride behind three people I didn’t know a week ago, I wonder how I got to be here.
Instead of going south, I’m following Avery west.
We’re so close to the ocean to the south, I can almost taste it.
And yet I’m still going west.
It’s probably a day’s ride from here. But I’m not turning that way.
I don’t know why.
We ride silent and steady, Rami in the front and Finn and Avery next to each other in the middle. I bring up the rear. Avery has barely looked at me since we left the river. I know we’re thinking about the same thing, yet neither of us acknowledge it.
But how can I talk to her when we’re never alone?
I keep a close eye on Rami. I won’t let him lead us astray, even though I believed him when he told us we shouldn’t go south. I’ve seen fear in someone’s eyes too many times to miss it.
Right before nightfall, we find an abandoned house with a cold fireplace and an actual bed in the corner. The mattress is dirty but it beats sleeping on the ground. Rami finds some almost rotting wood—something I’m seeing less and less of every day as years pass. In the north, wood is easier to find. The dead trees would stick up out of the ground where the fires never touched.
When the skies clouded over, the trees started to die and nobody could contain the forest fires once they started. They kept going until there was nothing left to burn. Down here in Texas, you’re lucky if you find any trees, like the ones next to the river we swam in. I’m even surprised this house is still standing and hasn’t been torn down to burn. It looks like an old farmhouse—miles and miles away from anything. The porch is still strong enough to hold weight, even when the dusty ground comes right up to the top step.
I stand in the doorway and watch Avery laugh at something Finn says. The three of them talk so easily—used to being around people. They make a fire and Finn finds actual food in the saddlebags of the Lawmen horses.
With just the two of us, it was simple. It was quiet and I knew what to do. It wasn’t that different from before—like clockwork, day in and day out.
I’m realizing I really don’t know how to be around people.
Maybe I never did.
I step outside where I feel my heartbeat slow. I don’t like the low roof and the body heat of other people, their voices that never stop. Where there’s no corner that is silent.
I run my hands through my hair and take a deep breath. Cade stands with the other horses, his head hanging lower than usual. He still perks up when I come over, nudging me in the hand. The Lawmen horses are a dark gray and white, not as strong as Cade, but they’ll hold their own like Jack does.
“What do you think about having all these people around?” I ask him. “It’s weird, that’s for sure.”
He shakes his mane and it makes me smile.
“I know,” I tell him. “I know.”
I fold my arms over his back and stare out into the night, watching the last of the light leave the clouds on the horizon. I’ve never thought about the coming days before—it never mattered to me when I knew they would all be the same. But now it’s all I can think about.
Where we’ll end up, and if I’ll decide to stay with them. About the people to the west with red cloths around their wrists. About Torreck. About the people to the south, who we don’t want to see. For once, I don’t know what the future holds for me.
“Seph?” I spin around and Avery is standing behind me.
“Hey.”
She glances back at the house before stepping closer, and she runs a hand down Cade’s neck. “Look,” Avery starts, “I need you to know something, and whatever you choose, I’ll respect it.”
I answer her with silence, waiting.
“You don’t have to stay with us,” she says. “We did what we set out to do, and now that Finn is—”
“—Avery.”
“What?”
I shake my head, knowing I’ve made my decision even when everything about this is foreign. “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”
She looks unsure and then she asks, hesitant, “Is it because we kissed?”
“It started long before then,” I say, barely breathing.
Avery steps closer, one hand on Cade like she needs to steady herself. “I don’t want to make you into someone you’re not.”
She waits for me to speak and I move my hand over hers. “For years, I’ve only talked to strangers and people who I knew I wasn’t going to see the next day. I have a quick mouth to get myself out of trouble and a quick hand to survive. But this,” I glance at the house, “this is something I’ve never done. But it’s also something I’m beginning to learn. Sometimes change is a good thing.”
“But what about your own plans?” she asks. “What about going south?”
“The south will always be there. Besides,” I say, changing my voice to match Rami’s slow drawl, “We don’t wanna go south.”
Avery gives me a smile and I wish I had more of a sense of humor, just to see it more.
There’s movement in the doorway of the farmhouse. It’s Finn, looking for Avery in the darkness. “Ave?”
Avery steps away from me, leaving my hand cold on Cade.
“Over here,” she says.
Finn finally sees us, and the glance at me isn’t a friendly one. Something inside me wants to make a remark about it—I just saved him from a fate that would take him away from her forever and he’s giving me dirty looks? I know him and Avery are close, but still.
He says to Avery, “You should eat something before it gets cold.”
“I’ll be right there.”
He hesitates, looking between us, but finally goes back inside. The wind blows a bit stronger and Avery pushes her hair behind her ear and backs away, still looking at me. “Come on,” she says, not giving me any hint that she noticed her brother’s odd behavior. “We have actual food tonight.”
With a deep breath, I follow her. Avery settles down on a stool next to Finn, and Rami loung
es on the bed sideways with his back against the wall. I stand next to the door.
Finn glances over his shoulder and comes over to give me a bowl of something unfamiliar. He steps away without a word, only smiling when he sits back down next to his sister.
This isn’t the Finn I’m familiar with—one that smiled even though his face was bloodied and one who had my back when nobody else did. I don’t know what has changed between us, but it has.
I look at the food in my bowl, not sure what it is. It’s white and small but smells good. I take a spoonful and I can’t describe the flavor. My mouth waters and I close my eyes, savoring it.
Finn’s voice carries across the room. “So how did you come to be here? You’ve put off not telling me long enough.”
“Where do you want me to start?” Avery asks.
“From the beginning,” he says. “When the Lawmen chased you out of town, I thought for sure they would catch you. It’s been killing me not knowing where you’ve been all this time.”
I lean against the door and eat my food. I listen as Avery retells her story, hearing it again but in a new way now that it’s Finn she’s telling it to. When she comes to the part about me, Finn doesn’t even glance over his shoulder when Avery meets my gaze. She tells him about our trouble in Houston and the long days of riding.
But what she doesn’t tell him is about our night at the river, or any other time we stopped. Because she doesn’t want Finn to know there’s anything more going on between us.
Maybe she doesn’t want me here. Earlier she started by saying I didn’t have to stay with them—she never asked me to. My heart pounds at the thought of being unwanted.
Avery finishes her story and even though they’re still talking with each other, I can’t listen. Half of my heart is here and the other is out there—where I think I belong.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Finn asks Avery, glancing back at me. “Outside.”
Avery nods.
They pass by me to go outside and Rami pushes himself off the bed. I put my bowl on the table but don’t move any farther from the door.
“I guess I should thank you for getting me out of there,” he says, putting another log on the fire.
