by Gwen Cole
“How did your father die?” I ask.
“The mine,” she says. “I don’t remember much of that day—just that Mom wouldn’t let us see her cry.”
I can’t imagine dying like that—in a dark, enclosed space where the air barely touches. When I die, I want to be under the sky—the wind on my face and the ground beneath me.
Avery reaches into her saddlebags and takes out something small. She looks at it for a moment then sets it between us, where the dim light shines on it.
It’s the small wooden horse I’ve seen her look at before and that Finn had in prison.
“This is the only thing we have left of our father. He made it for us when we were young and told us we had to share it.” Avery smiles at the thought.
“My dad didn’t leave me with anything but knowledge and a red cloth to remember him by. I guess I turned out okay nonetheless.”
“To say the least.” She laughs, careful not to wake the others.
We lie in silence, listening to the wind outside with the little horse between us. My heart is somehow beating steady now, like there’s no longer a roof over me. Sleep creeps into my eyes.
Avery sees it too because she smiles and whispers, “Good night, Seph.”
“Good night, Avery.”
The next time I open my eyes, gray daylight comes through the boat’s windows and I’m alone. I sit up fast, seeing the empty beds around me. The immediate thought something is wrong runs through my head, until I hear Avery’s laugh somewhere outside. I take a deep breath and dig the heels of my hands into my eyes. I haven’t slept past dawn in years.
I find my boots and pull them on with numb fingers. The morning is cold, but I leave my jacket inside as I climb the steps leading out onto the deck to find the clouds low, riding the wind high above us like they want to go somewhere. I scan the horizon out of habit. Avery stands on the shore of the river with Jack, trying to brush his coat as he nibbles her shoulder.
When she sees me standing on the boat, she gives a small wave and starts toward me. Cade stands nearby, flicking his tail and waiting for any signal from me. For now, I give him none.
Avery climbs up onto the boat and joins me on the stern. When she sits down, her leg presses against mine. My muscles tense without me telling them to and my stomach does a flip.
“How did you sleep?” She looks over with a smile.
I return it with a small one and admit, “I don’t remember the last time I slept like that. Especially indoors.” Then I ask, “Where’s Finn and Rami?”
“They left after the sun came up. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Usually Cade is the one who does that, so I wouldn’t have complained if today was different.”
Avery doesn’t look away and says, “But today is already different.”
I counter with, “The past week has been different.”
“Have you ever had different before now?”
I narrow my eyes and dare to ask, “Are you asking if I’ve kissed anyone?”
A touch of color adds to her cheeks. “Maybe.”
“Well—” I pretend to think about it. “Not too long ago, I kissed this girl next to a river. It was raining and she was mad at me for some reason. But before then, no.” I look over and Avery has a look on her face I’ve seen only a handful of times. A look she only gives me. “Do you want to go riding with me?”
“But you always go alone in the morning.”
“Like you said, today is different.”
She smiles again and we climb down from the boat. Cade and Jack already wait for us next to our gear where we stowed it for the night. I put on his bridle and pull myself up, riding bareback. Avery does the same and gives me a grin before pressing her heels into Jack’s sides. They take off and Cade throws his head to follow them.
After a couple seconds, I let him. His stride is long and his ears are forward, loving the chase after a day’s rest. We come up next to them and he slows down to keep pace. I don’t know which way we’re riding, and I don’t care. I love the feeling of Cade beneath me with no saddle between us and the wind rushing past.
We slow down gradually, coming to a stop on a small rise. This is one of the flatter states I’ve been in—in some places you can see for miles or as far as your eyes will allow. Once in a while, an old building will dot the horizon.
“It’s odd to think that this was all different before we were born,” Avery says. “Things in pictures never look the same in real life, so it’s hard to imagine. Do you think we’ll see it that way again?”
I turn toward her and say, “I do. If the earth is really healing itself like some people say, it has to be done at some point, right? The sun has to shine again and let things grow. If it doesn’t, I’m not sure how long we can survive.”
“We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”
“And hopefully a little farther.” I close the gap between us and kiss her, the wind tossing her hair against my neck.
Cade throws his head and dances aside, breaking us apart too soon. And I’m smiling because of it until I catch sight of dust over Avery’s shoulder. My hearts jolts into my ribs and I now know why Cade won’t stay still.
A half dozen riders are closing in on us.
Avery glances over her shoulder and looks back to me with a changed face—one I last saw the night she almost died and one I’d hoped never to see again.
My hand reflectively goes to my side, where my gun should be sitting. There’s nothing there. I forgot to bring it.
“Seph—”
“Come on!”
We take off fast, heading west and back to the boat. If we get our guns, we can defend ourselves on high ground. When I look back, I expect them to be farther behind—gang horses never have the endurance for a chase, especially against animals like Cade and Jack.
But if anything, they’re gaining on us. And when I catch sight of the white bands around their arms, I understand why. Somewhere in me, I find myself more afraid of that fact. Gangs I’ve dealt with my whole life. They’re predictable and unorganized. Half the men can’t even shoot straight.
The Lawmen are everything the other gangs aren’t and more of what I am.
I push Cade to keep going, but he can’t give everything he has without leaving Avery and Jack behind. The boat is in view now, slowly growing bigger. I can hear the other horses behind us.
I don’t want to look back—afraid of who I’ll see riding with them.
We’re less than a quarter mile away now.
A slick sheen of sweat coats Jack’s neck and he’s beginning to slow. We won’t make it in time with his speed.
I have to do something.
Without thinking, I swing behind them and slap Jack in the rear, giving him one more burst of speed. Then I pull hard on Cade’s reins, immersing us into dust and horses as he comes to a quick stop. A hand grabs the back of my shirt and pulls me off Cade before I have the chance to hang on. I hit the ground hard. Through the dust and legs of horses, I see the boat and Avery being dragged off her horse by another Lawman soldier. My saddlebags and gun lay fewer than a hundred feet away.
Someone hauls me to my knees, keeping their hand fisted into the back of my shirt. I cough the dust from my lungs and try to ignore the ache in my ribs. A man dismounts and walks toward me, but I only stare at his boots, wishing I didn’t recognize them and wishing I had killed him when I had the chance.
The barrel of a rifle settles beneath my jaw, forcing my head up to see Torreck standing over me.
He takes a long look and makes a disappointed sound before letting my head drop again. Torreck walks away somewhere behind me and it gives me enough time to locate Avery. A soldier has a gun to her head and the rest of his comrades stand between us. I taste blood in my mouth from when I fell and I spit it out, the dust swallowing it greedily.
I glance at Avery again, trying to find some way out of this.
Because getting out of things is what I’m good at. This isn’t the fi
rst time I’ve been surrounded by people who would like nothing more than to kill me, or have a gun to my head, being told to say my final words.
Through all of that, I’m still here, and I still plan to be here tomorrow. I ignore all the whispers that say otherwise.
“To tell you the truth,” Torreck says, somewhere behind me, “I wasn’t sure if I would find you. And if I did, I hoped you would’ve put up more of a fight. This is a bit disappointing.”
He comes around to face me again, this time without his rifle and just his pistol on his hip. It’s the same one he used to kill my dad. The sight of it creates something hard in my heart. Something dark.
“If it’s a fight you want, I’ll give you one,” I say.
He smiles but changes the subject. “Where are the prisoners you helped escape?”
“Not here.”
“If you don’t answer me, maybe I’ll question her instead,” he says, pointing back at Avery. “It is her brother after all, isn’t it? And whatever I do to her, you will be forced to watch every second of it.”
“They aren’t here,” I repeat, firmer this time. “They rode on ahead of us.”
Torreck doesn’t take his eyes off me. “You lie as well as your old man,” he says.
I swallow, finding my throat tight. “I’m not lying.” Then I dare to say, “And even if I am, will you give me the same fate as him?”
“Not yet I won’t,” Torreck says. He looks away for a moment, thinking about something with his hands on his hips. “To tell you the truth, I don’t care where they are. I didn’t track you down to find a couple of runaway prisoners.”
“Then why did you?”
“To teach you a lesson,” he steps forward, bending over to make sure I see him. “You don’t cross me and get away with it. Especially outlaws like you who need to learn their place in this world. It’s not something I take lightly.”
Torreck gives a single nod to the man behind me and something hard hits the side of my head. A boot kicks my ribs and then my stomach when I try to roll over. I hear Avery screaming my name, but I can’t answer her through the blows, trying to cover my head with my arms. After a few more kicks, they back away.
Blood pounds through my head and I force my eyes open. “This is how you’re going to do it then?” I ask him, struggling to sit up. “I know you take pleasure in taking advantage of unarmed people, but it really makes me realize how much of a piece of shit you are. You’re a coward.”
“And you’re someone who I never should’ve let live,” he admits.
His hand rests over his pistol, probably moments away from killing me.
Before he can make a move, I say one last thing.
“If you want proof of who I’ve become—who you hoped I would be—then let me show you. Or are you not man enough to face me?”
The rest of his men turn to look at him, waiting for his response. If he kills me now, he’ll lose the respect of his men.
I stare back hard, praying he’ll agree. It’s the only chance I have. My ribs ache and blood runs down the side of my face from being hit. But I can still stand and I can still shoot.
I can always shoot.
“You want to take your chances with me, boy?”
I say, “Skill isn’t chance.”
He smiles. “You’ve got that right.” Without turning to anyone particular, he says, “Someone go get his gun.”
They pull me to my feet and someone returns with my gun and belt. They back away from me as I buckle it around my hips. My middle finger wants to tap but I don’t let it. The soldiers gather around us, Avery among them and unable to do anything but watch. I don’t like the worry in her eyes. To try to take it away, I give her a slight smile, something that’s hard to do moments before a standoff. My nerves are high, but just like Dad taught me, I use my fear to make my hands steady and trust myself.
Torreck inspects his gun and seeing it reminds me of Dad’s last moments. For the first time in my life, I feel a real anger toward him. Up until now, I was living my life as best I could, trying to forget the man. Any other person would have wanted revenge.
I ask, “Do you remember what you told me all those years ago?”
He nods. “I said you’d thank me one day for doing what I did. By killing your father, I made you strong enough to survive this world. Do you deny it? You’d be dead if it weren’t for me.”
“No.” I shake my head and say, “If it weren’t for you, my father would still be alive. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have killed someone for the first time when I was eleven. I wouldn’t have to dig through someone’s garbage to find something to eat, or hear a girl get raped by a gang while I hid in a pipeline, too young and weak to help or understand but know in my soul whatever it was happening wasn’t right. Everything comes down to you and what you did. You can’t try and make it out to be right.”
“Because of me,” he says, “you’re strong. You cannot say that isn’t true.”
“My father made me strong, not you. Never you.”
He finally says, “I guess we’ll see who the real survivor is.”
My heart won’t stop pounding in my throat. One false move and I could be dead in seconds. I have to trust myself. Trust what I can do. What I’m capable of. Despite all that, sweat beads along my forehead.
To my left, nobody says a word. They’re silent watchers of a death today. The wind prods at my back and the sound of the ocean comes with it, maybe reminding me I can’t die until I see it.
I wait on Torreck, because I never make the first move.
Maybe he doesn’t either and we’ll be here forever, growing old with the dust slowly covering our feet.
Then it happens.
His eye twitches, giving him away, and then his hand, going for his gun. I go for mine. Somehow—maybe because I wasn’t fast enough or he’s just as good as I am—he’s able to pull the trigger. Both guns go off at the same time and my bullet hits its mark with that sickening thunk I’ve come to know too well.
Torreck staggers back and looks down, blood spreading from the hole in his chest, right where his heart should be. I feel something stinging on my side, but I keep my gun up, making sure he’s going down before he can take another shot. His face twists in an angry way—one I’ve seen before, knowing what he’s going to do. He raises his gun to take another shot, but I pull the trigger again before he’s able to.
Torreck looks at me, his face growing white. His mouth opens, but no words come out. Then he falls to his knees, and seconds later he tips over with a cloud of dust. His body lies motionless on the ground, yet I have this horrible fear he’s going to get up and finish the job. After so long, how could it be so easy to kill him? Even though I’ve made him out to be this unkillable monster my whole life—one that I never wanted to chase—he’s human just like everyone else. Just like me.
I lower my gun and look down where his bullet got me. It’s low on my right side, just above my hip. I want it to be a flesh wound. I pray for it to be. But nothing will change what happened. I holster my gun and put my hand over it, somehow thinking I can keep the blood in. It’s starting to ache now, my adrenaline wearing off and my body figuring out something is wrong.
I’m calm and that scares me. I’ve been shot before. But never in a place where it could kill me.
A Lawman soldier inspects Torreck, pressing two fingers to the side of his neck. We wait for his fate, and after a moment seeming to last forever, he stands up and shakes his head.
“He’s dead.”
The others shift and voices call out, now without their leader.
“So what do we do now?”
“Do we let them go?”
“Good riddance.”
I don’t listen or look to them. My eyes are on only Avery and I try to give her a smile. The relief on her face tells me she doesn’t know I’m shot. From where she stands, she can’t see the blood soaking into my white shirt. The shirt Marshall gave me days ago. It seems more like weeks.<
br />
She doesn’t know I’ll probably be dead within the hour. I’ve seen this type of gut shot before and it’s never ended well. It’s the type of wound that makes you think you’re going to be fine but slowly kills you.
Something changes and I realize it’s the silence. The voices have stopped and every person is looking at something above me. Even Avery follows their gaze and locks her eyes on something I don’t see. I’m hesitant, and then I look up—
And see blue. Through the gray clouds, there’s a break. It almost doesn’t look real. Too good to be true. I can see the layers of clouds and then the blue just above it, mocking us way down here.
The first wave of pain rolls through me, forcing my eyes off the sky. My legs threaten to buckle and I stagger to stay upright. Right now, nobody sees me. Except Cade. He waits for me and I look to the south, knowing what I have to do.
So I turn away from the first glimpse of sky and go toward the only thing I want to see.
30.
Avery
I only tear my eyes from the sky when I hear a horse galloping away. I turn and see Seph and Cade heading south, and I wonder why and where he would be going. I look back at the sky. I’m afraid this is a dream and I’ll wake up and not remember it or have it all be fake. I wish Finn were here to see it, and then I remember I’m not surrounded by friends.
The Lawmen soldiers talk around me like I’m not there—about heading back to Kev to tell the Sheriff what they found.
“But what about them?” someone asks.
“It doesn’t matter—the boy is as good as dead anyway. Once we come with the news, he won’t even remember why we were out here in the first place. And unlike Torreck, I’m not in the business to kill kids.”
His words run through my head again and I’m slow to realize what he said. Was Seph shot? I never saw any blood and he was well enough to ride away. But why would they say that? My heart pounds for me to do something.
