by Gwen Cole
The sky forgotten, I frantically look for Jack and leave the soldiers behind. Like a ghost to them, I ride away with nobody following me, something I wasn’t sure would happen a few moments ago. I follow his trail south for a good mile until I come to a rise where Cade stands alone near the top—his reins hanging loose and something dark smeared over his shoulder. I dismount and start up the hill.
When I get close enough, my legs stop working and I stare at Cade, trying to understand what I’m seeing while everything in me wants to deny it. I step closer with my fingers outstretched. My breath is shallow but my heart pounds fast.
I touch Cade’s shoulder and my fingers come away red. Once my mind makes the connection, they shake. The blood starts at his back and runs down to his leg. But Cade’s not hurt.
The blood isn’t his.
I leave the horses and continue on. The dirt is different here—it’s too fine and my boots sink into it, making it hard for me to walk.
At the top of the hill, a gust of wind pushes the loose hair away from my face and for the second time today, I stop and stare at something I’ve never before seen.
For as long as I can remember, we’ve had a picture of the ocean in our house. Mom always said it was our grandmother’s, who used to live near it where she could watch the storms roll in and the wind could toss her hair. Whenever she told that story, she would always smile, like that’s the way she would always remember her mother.
I never thought I would see it in person. I never thought I would leave home or travel this far or ever see a piece of the sky.
But now I’m standing here, looking out over a stretch of water that never ends. Waves roll inland, making a sound so unfamiliar but comforting. The sky is here, too. Patches of it break away the clouds I’ve lived under my whole life. I can’t see the sun but streams of light shine down, making rays in the sky and touching the water.
If things were different, I could stare at it all day.
But instead I search for Seph and spot him instantly. He sits against a boulder and faces the ocean. His gun belt is coiled at his feet and his right hand rests over his side, where his fingers hold nothing in.
The horses have followed me and Cade stands behind me, his ears forward like he doesn’t know what’s happening. I leave him and drop down next to Seph, facing him instead of the sky and ocean behind me. His eyes—even greener now that the gray sky is gone—stare out across the water. I was stupid to never realize why he wanted to go south until now.
He wanted to see the ocean.
For someone who has traveled as much as he does, I don’t understand why he hasn’t before now, but I know it to be true from the way he’s looking at it. It’s the same way those soldiers looked at the sky, because that’s what everyone is always looking for.
But all Seph wanted was to see this, not the sky. Something so simple.
“It’s better than I thought it would be,” he says. “But I never thought I would see it like this.”
I look down at his side again, not knowing what to do. I know people who have been shot there. I don’t want to think about what happened to them. Finn and Rami will come back soon—and then what? Will they know what to do when I don’t?
My eyes burn and my throat is so swollen I can barely breathe.
“Avery.” Seph looks over, and I have the hardest time meeting his eyes. “It’s okay,” he says. “It’s going to be okay.”
I shake my head and swipe at my eyes. “It’s not okay. Nothing about this is okay. We’re too far from a town and I know nothing about … about this.” I shake my head. “And you shouldn’t be the one comforting me. I should be the one—”
My throat tightens and I can’t finish the sentence. I’m breathing too fast.
Seph stares, his face relaxed in a weird way with his eyes still bright. Maybe if I sit here long enough and only gaze into his eyes, I can believe nothing is wrong with him.
I feel every warning about the Wild behind me, whispering into my ear, I told you so.
“I have something for you,” he says.
I will my eyes to stay dry and I watch as Seph pulls something from his pocket, like he’s had it this whole time but never knew when to give it to me. He places it in my palm and I look down to see a compass.
“Now you don’t have to go asking old men for directions,” he says.
I look up to see him smiling. He’s bleeding and dying and trying to make a joke. But despite everything, I smile back.
“Seph, I don’t …”
“You can,” he says. “You were strong before I met you, and this right here,” he closes my hand around the compass, “will give you that piece of me you didn’t have before.”
“I don’t want a compass,” I tell him, half whispering. “I want you. Just you.”
“You don’t need me—”
“But I do,” I argue.
All I can think about are those first moments with Seph, and all the others after. The first time I saw him, his hands were cuffed and he was a prisoner charged with murder. The second time, he stood knee-deep in a river with a stupid smile on his face, like a kid swimming for the first time.
I want to scream until my voice goes hoarse because none of this is right.
Seph turns away, closing his eyes. His jaw clenches in pain and his skin is paler than it was a minute ago. I thread my fingers through his cold ones, somehow thinking it’ll help.
“I didn’t think this would happen so soon,” he whispers, opening his eyes again. I see the fear in them—the uncertainty and doubt I’ve never seen him have. “But I guess that’s the risk of living in the Wild. Someday, it always catches up to you.”
“Seph.” He looks at me. “Remember the first time we met?” He nods and I continue. “Even though they told me you killed a man, I didn’t believe them. One look in your eyes and I didn’t understand why you were there. And somewhere in me, I knew I wanted to help you, even though I had no way to and didn’t know why.”
“You were the first person I had a hard time reading,” he says, his words becoming slower. “And it annoyed me, because I wanted to know more than anything.”
“It seems like a lifetime ago.”
“Then we were lucky to have a lifetime together,” he says, more serious than I’ve ever heard him say anything. “Promise me you’ll take care of Cade,” he says, his voice cracking.
“Seph—”
“Please, Avery.”
I nod with the words choking me. “Of course.”
With that, he looks over the ocean again, his chest rising and dropping slowly. “I didn’t think it would end like this,” he says, his eyes narrowing. “And I don’t want it to. I wish … wishing is stupid, but I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
The wind brushes against my cheeks to make it clear how wet they are. Then something clicks in my mind—a miner came out still alive but hurt, and everyone did what they could to save him. That’s what I should be doing—saving him, not sitting here and watching him die.
I hear myself say, “It’s not going to end this way.”
My hands start working, somehow knowing what to do. I unbuckle my belt and loop it around Seph’s middle with my bandana over his wound. When I tighten it, he sucks in a gasp.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to save your life, idiot. Sure, I could survive this world without you, but I don’t want to. Is that okay with you?”
Seph hesitates, then nods. “I’m okay with that.”
“Good.” I lead Cade over to Seph and wonder how I’m going to get him on his back.
“Avery.” His voice is weak and the wind almost carries it away.
“What?”
“Tap on the back of his leg.”
I look between him and Cade, wondering how he ever taught him this. After I do what he says, Cade lowers himself down next to Seph, his coat still stained with blood. I help Seph onto his back, using most of my weight so he doesn’t have to. Cade stand
s up with Seph laid out on him, his fists knotted in his mane. I grab his holster and belt off the ground and buckle it around my hips.
“Hold on tight,” I tell him. “And don’t die on me.”
“I’ll try.”
I don’t know where we’re going, but I know we have to go somewhere. Anywhere. I point Jack west, down the coast where we might be lucky, and Cade follows us, his rider dying on his back.
31.
Seph
I don’t want to die. I’m sure everyone thinks that when they’re facing death, but no matter how hard I try to deny it, it’s true.
I want to ride Cade until I’m too old to sit up. And I want to wake up every day and see Avery next to me, however bizarre it is to admit. Because before I met her, I was sure I would die alone.
I don’t want to die today. Because these last few days really made me realize how good life can be. And how unpredictable.
I’m afraid to close my eyes, knowing once I do, I’ll never open them again. As Avery takes us more inland, where the ground is harder and horses can run faster, I look at the ocean one last time and try to memorize it.
If I am to die, I’m lucky to be here where I love it most—the Wild—where I grew up and lived my whole life. It’s where I found Cade and Avery and learned how to live with being alone.
Do pirates ever get lonely? They must, being out at sea all the time.
For once, I don’t want to think about pirates and boots or anything else. I don’t want to think at all.
I rest my head against Cade’s neck while he runs, watching his legs move faster and faster. With each step, they become more red.
32.
Avery
I don’t want to glance back at Seph because I’m afraid of what I’ll see. So I keep pushing Jack forward, over every rise and hoping the next will have something there. The horses are lathered in sweat and won’t be able to go on much longer. There’s a small river up ahead, snaking around the low hills, and I let Jack slow to stop. When he lowers his head to the water, I slide off his back, my legs shaking with fatigue.
I finally turn and face Cade and the still rider on his back. Seph’s hands are knotted in his mane with his cheek resting on his neck. His eyes are half closed, staring into the distance.
“Come on, Cade.” I take his loose reins and lead him to the water. His nostrils flare with the smell of Seph’s blood, but he drinks because he needs to. I step closer to Seph and put my hand on his, feeling how cold it is.
“Not too much longer now,” I tell him.
“Avery,” he says, just over a whisper.
“Yeah?”
“There’s someone over there.”
I turn quickly, catching sight of a horse and rider on the hill across the river. They wear a wide-brimmed hat and long coat, reminding me of the Lawmen. They start down the hill and my hand reaches for Seph’s pistol at my hip. It’s out by the time they reach the bottom, but Seph would probably laugh at how slow I am.
The rider stops at the edge of the river and dismounts, pulling off his hat so I can see his face and dark hair. He looks familiar, but wears no white band.
“I don’t mean you any harm,” he says, holding out his hands. “If your friend is wounded, I can help.”
“The last few people we’ve come across haven’t exactly been friendly, so if it’s the same to you, I’ll keep my gun out.”
He smiles and says, “Fair enough.”
The river only comes up to his ankles and his horse follows behind, flicking his ears at Jack and Cade. When the stranger gets close, his forehead creases and he says, “Seph?”
“You know him?” I ask.
“I helped him escape from Kev.”
Marshall—Seph told me how someone from the Lawmen turned and helped him escape. But what is he doing here?
He approaches Seph, trying to see where he was shot. Seph doesn’t say anything and I lower the gun, recognizing the look in his eyes.
“I get you out of trouble once, and now you’re back for more,” Marshall says, and then turns to me. “We have to get him to Radnor. He’s lost a lot of blood and I can help him there.”
“Where is it?”
“Just over the hill. But we have to hurry.”
I mount Jack again and whistle for Cade to follow. The river splashes my boots and I follow Marshall up the hill. We’re almost there. About a half mile across a flat plain, the town sits next to the ocean, a stone wall surrounding it and stretching inland. Some of the buildings are taller in the center, making it look like it’s on top of a hill. With splashes of sunlight on the stone, it’s the most beautiful town I’ve ever seen.
We follow Marshall across the plain, and I silently tell Seph to hold on a little longer. I wonder how long it’s already been. One, two hours? Less? Even though it feels like a whole day. The town gets larger and larger, bigger than Kev, and then we’re at the gates. Marshall dismounts and shouts to the people to let us in. He pushes back his coat sleeve and holds up his arm, revealing a red cloth around his wrist. It looks exactly like Seph’s except not as old.
When the gates open, a couple of people run out with a stretcher between them. Marshall shouts orders and they pry Seph’s hands from his horse’s mane, trying to get him on the stretcher without moving him too much. I jump off Jack and go to his side. I just want him to look at me again, however selfish that may be.
“Seph.”
And he does, looking at me for a long time before he says, “Ride on, Avery.”
It’s the good-bye someone says when you won’t ever see them again. Words I never wanted to hear come from his mouth. They take him away before I can say anything, possibly leaving me with his last words.
“Are you coming in, girl?” The man at the gate waits, ready to shut the doors.
I shake my head. “Not yet.”
His shoulders shrug as if saying, Suit yourself. I don’t linger—I don’t give myself enough time to think about what’s happening on the other side of the wall or if Seph will make it. I remount Jack and whistle for Cade. He hesitates before trusting me enough to follow. We go south along the wall until it ends and then a little farther to the ocean. The sun is setting, now breaking through the clouds. The blue has gone and is replaced by more colors than I can name.
I leave Jack on the beach and lead Cade into the water until it comes up to his knees, and he’s uneasy about the waves. It’s cold and sand shifts under my feet. I start with his legs—cupping the water with my hands to wash away the blood. It comes away too easy. Like Seph was never here.
33.
Avery
“Avery.”
I turn. Finn stands on the beach, worry etched into his face. He always reminds me of Mom when he gets this look. Rami is beside him with eyes for only the sky and sun. Finn wades into the water and joins me next to Cade, brushing a tear from my cheek.
“Marshall found us while we were out looking for this place and said he would go back out to find you guys,” he says. “I saw Seph earlier but not you. Are you okay?”
“I think that’s a relative term.”
He pulls me to him. “He’s going to be fine.”
If only he could be sure.
Finn helps me clean the rest of the blood off Cade and then we head back to the city. We’ve been assigned a couple rooms in one of the buildings overlooking the ocean. A man says they’ve already sent someone to get the rest of our things at the boat where we spent the previous night.
Everyone here has red cloths tied around their wrists. I would ask about them, but I don’t feel like talking to anyone, even though they seem friendly enough. Once we’re left alone in our rooms, Finn says he’s going to check on the horses, but I know it’s an excuse to explore.
Hours drag on with no news of Seph. I sit on the sill to watch the moon rise over the ocean. Countless times, I’ve imagined what it would look like, but nothing has ever come close. The only thing left to see are the stars—something Seph has always talked
about, and it doesn’t feel right to see them for the first time without him.
So I decide to wait, convincing myself he’s going to survive the night.
34.
Seph
I want more than anything to pass out. With the amount of blood I’ve lost, I should be sleeping so deep that I won’t feel anything as Marshall digs the bullet out. He keeps saying how lucky I am. Lucky that it didn’t pass through or I’d be dead. Lucky because if it were two inches higher, I’d be dead.
Honestly, I thought I would be dead by now either way.
Two men hold me down, and after another shot of pain, Marshall holds the bullet up for me to see. There’s a man sitting next to me with a thin red tube connecting our arms, replacing what was lost, and I find the window behind him. I can hear the ocean but can’t see it. I want to see it.
“Seph.” I move my eyes until I see Marshall. The men holding me are gone even though I don’t remember them leaving. “The worst part is over. I’m going to clean the wound and stitch you up. Shouldn’t be much longer.”
“I’m cold.” My mouth is dry, but I don’t know if I can say anything else.
His eyebrows draw together and then he touches my forehead. Cursing, he turns to someone behind him. “Go get Drews. Tell him it’s urgent.”
I go back to looking out the window, focusing on the sliver of blue and some other color I can’t put a name to. I didn’t know the sky could be anything else.
“You’re running a bit of a fever, Seph, but it’s nothing to worry about yet. We have good people who probably know more than I do.”
“Then why are you here and not them?”
I look in time to see Marshall smile. “Because I insisted. You are my patient after all.” I return my attention to the window and he says. “It started a few days ago.” I glance long enough to see him nod to the sky. “Seems like it’s becoming a little more every day, stretching inland.”
“You think it’s gonna keep going?”
“I think there’s a good chance.”
