Cricket nods. But she looks so weak, I’m not sure how much farther she can run. Her eyes glisten, mouth drawing in tight gulps of air like she can’t ever get enough. Still, we break away from the corner of the house and sprint across the street to the last clot of buildings. We’re almost free… when I see it.
A paddock filled with horses, only a couple of yards to our left.
And it’s not just the horses—the crush of them all together, dust swirling around their heads—it’s one horse in particular.
Odie.
She’s among them, eyes wide, front hoof stamping the ground.
“Stop,” I hiss to Noah, tugging against his arm. “Stop!”
He pivots around, eyes filled with tension, with adrenaline. “What’s wrong?”
“Pa’s horse, Odie. That’s her.” I point into the crowd of horses. “They took her before we reached Fort Bell.”
“There’s no time,” Noah whispers, keeping his voice low, eyes darting back the way we came, looking for any sign of those men.
I shake my head at him. “I can’t leave her.” And I pull away from his hand, from his hard grasp, and run to the paddock. When I yank open the small gate, the horses clot together, kicking up more dust. But Odie’s ears twitch forward and she stands still, trying to assess who I am—some deep memory fluttering forward in her mind. When I reach her, she lowers her head and pushes her flat face into my chest. “I found you,” I whisper in a rush.
“We have to go,” Noah urges behind me, standing at the gate, eyes flashing back to the center of town.
I grab a bridle left slung over a fencepost and secure it over Odie’s head—there’s no time for a saddle—and I lead her through the gate into the open. For a half second I consider grabbing two more horses, one for each of us, but it’ll take too much time—securing two more bridles and two horses who might not be as agreeable as Odie. But I say quickly to Noah, “Leave the paddock open. If they don’t have horses, they won’t be able to come after us.”
He nods, and several paces away, Cricket is standing at the back wall of an outbuilding, a toolshed maybe, looking like a ghost—her flesh so white, it seems almost transparent—but she peers back at us, shoulders wide. “Come on,” she hisses, urgent, waving us past her.
Between the edge of town and a line of wind-blown trees in the distance lies a good two hundred yards of open scrub brush and no place to hide. We’ll have to move fast. I draw in a tight, anxious breath, and the three of us sprint out into the open, away from the shelter and shadows of town—Odie trotting behind.
But when I glance back at Cricket, her gait is stilted, lumbering, like she’s struggling to take in a breath, to swing her legs in front of her. I want to shout at her to move faster, but I’m afraid to say anything above a whisper. Those men have surely discovered the opened door into the schoolhouse, the body lying in the doorway, and Holt bleeding inside.
Now they’ll be coming for us.
I tug Odie faster, toward a low gully ahead of us, where the ground drops away—probably a creek at one time. And beyond that, trees.
Safety.
We’re only a few paces from the gully, and I feel the air quickening in my lungs, my skin tight against my bones, desperate to reach a low spot, out of sight from the town.So close now. My eyes find Cricket, and there is relief in them—she knows we’re going to make it. A smile pulls at my lips, the certainty already pulsing through me.Almost there.Only a few steps now, we’ll be—
Something moves behind Cricket.
A shadow.
A terrible, awful shadow.
My legs hitch beneath me, and I feel the seconds ticking past like raindrops on numb skin. At the edge of town… a figure comes into view.
They found us.
I feel my eyes widen, the air snatched from my lungs—and I catch the glint of metal reflecting beneath the wavy, all-seeing sun.
“He has a gun!” I shout, scrambling backward, stumbling on my own feet.
Cricket swivels, her motions slowed somehow, everything drawn out, time dulled into a few sluggish seconds. Her arm swings out, reaching for the knife at her waist. But the sound of a bullet leaving a chamber explodes in the air. Noah turns, reaching out for me, but it’s Cricket who makes a strained, guttural sound. Cricket whose mouth is caught open; Cricket who sinks to her knees.
“No!” I scream, but the sound feels like a whimper, broken into pieces as soon as it hits the air.
More shouts echo from the town—more men coming—but Noah releases my hand, the sturdiness of his grasp vanished, and he runs back to Cricket, dropping to the ground.
My mind twists in on itself, terror making everything turn a blinding white, and I drop Odie’s reins, leaving her where she stands, and scramble after Noah. My knees hit the dusty ground beside Cricket, and my eyes stutter in my skull, absorbing the sight.
