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Cross turns to him. “He’ll tell us on the way. Wrap up his arm, get him a gun and let’s move.”
Nothing in his voice betrays what he thinks of everything I just told him. But he’s letting me go with them. And that’s all I need right now. All that matters.
* * *
LILY
The darkness is doing its thing and making it near impossible to stay awake, as we wait for the man to come feed us so we can take him out. More than once, Tina’s breathing turns even and deep in sleep. I wake her up each time, but it’s getting harder and harder for me to stay awake too. I’m focusing on the sounds outside the cabin so hard, I can hear the whooshing of blood in my ears and the beating of my own heart.
Visions try to come. Of me and Eagle sleeping by the fire under the star quilt. Of my little brother laughing as we play tag in the woods around Sanctuary. Of Roxie helping me with my hair and makeup on my prom night. Of Cross and the guys standing in the driveway struggling to find the words to say goodbye before I left. Of Eagle lying face down on the ground, the dirt soaking up his blood. Of headlights staring at me from the trees and a man grabbing me.
Footsteps. I can hear footsteps outside.
Tina’s breathing is even again, and she’s snoring softly too. I try to make as little noise as I can as I reach across the door to wake her.
She stirs and groans, but the footsteps are so close she immediately hears them to.
I stand up and motion for her to do the same, then stand right by the door, right where it will open, and hold my nail-studded board ready to strike.
The man outside is breathing hard and clearly having a lot of trouble with the lock. It seems to keep slipping from his fingers and clanking against the wood, making him curse.
But eventually, I hear it give. And then the door starts creeping open.
I swing the board hard against where his head should be, nails first. They sink into flesh and the man roars in pain. His screaming gets even worse as I yank it back out ripping flesh all over again.
“You fucking bitch,” he yells.
And before I can bring the board back for another swing, he has it. The next second, it collides with the side of my head, as hard and unyielding as a sack of cement.
I feel myself fall, but I don’t feel my body connecting with the ground. Hopefully Tina will have more luck, because I’ve failed.
22
EAGLE
The trekback to the road takes no time at all and I feel I could run the distance and more, no problem, probably because of whatever Doc injected into my arm before we left. Or maybe it’s because I now have more than just a prayer of saving Lily, whereas just a couple hours ago, I had much less than that.
We hit the road right by the abandoned house at the edge of the reservation. The guys’ bikes are hidden in the trees just beyond the weed infested field behind it.
“Do you know where we are?” Cross asks.
“Yes. Lily is less than five miles that way,” I say and point towards where we saw the smoke rising from the chimney this morning. There’s nothing but darkness there now.
“Let’s ride,” Cross says and turns to me. “You’re with me, in front.”
I ask no questions, just get on the back of his bike when we reach it. The rumbling of all the bikes revving up fills the nighttime silence. They’ll hear us coming. But that’s good. Because Lily will hear us coming too. And that creep has no chance, whether he hears us or not. Death rides for him, it’s only right that he should hear it coming.
“There’s a path through the trees leading to the scrapyard, easy to miss,” I tell Cross once we’re on the road, the very air pulsing with our passage.
Or maybe that’s still the thing Doc injected into my vein.
Not all of us are coming this way, some took the trucks and are headed to our destination cross land, shadowing us, their headlights shining amid the trees lining the road from time to time.
Headlights are approaching us on the road now too, heading towards the reservation. A beat-up light-colored car soon comes into full view. But it’s not until I hear the clanking I listened to for hours yesterday morning that I think to check the plates. Colorado.
“That’s it,” I yell to Cross. “That’s the guy who has Lily.”
“You sure?” Cross asks. The car is almost on us now.
