28
ATTICUS
I agreed to stay at least until morning. Were it not for Thais, I never would’ve given a second thought to the idea. I never would’ve agreed to breakfast, and would’ve left the barn, rather than getting comfortable in their apple pie house. But I wasn’t alone, and Thais needed to eat and rest. Life on The Road could break even the most emotionally numb man, bring him to his knees if he found no way to make peace with himself. I knew this all too well—The Road nearly killed me before I was found by William Wolf’s men and taken to Lexington City. I didn’t want to risk the same happening to Thais. And when I saw the smile on her face, the hope, the joy—a stark difference from the frightened girl I’d met on the street of Lexington City—I decided to let her have this for just a little while longer.
I thought, as I lay on the living room floor, my body longer than the sofa where Thais slept above me, that maybe by morning I might choose to stay. But if I chose not to stay, I didn’t plan to leave her here, either, regardless of what she wanted. I’d drag her away kicking and screaming if I had to.
“Atticus?” Thais’ voice was quiet in the late night, as soft as the breeze that drifted through the open windows. She lay across the sofa, curled up with a quilt.
“Yeah?” I whispered. I lay on my back with a quilt beneath me, looking up at the ceiling, my fingers interlocked over my stomach, my booted feet crossed at the ankles—I still didn’t trust my surroundings enough even to remove my boots, unsettled by the possibility that at any moment we might have to make a run for it.
“Do you think they gave my sister a proper burial?”
I thought back to that night, the unforgettable image of Thais cradling her sister in her arms.
“Yes,” I said honestly. “I took measures to make sure that happened.”
Silence filled the small living room for a time. We lay together—separate, but very much together—while the family who lived in this house had turned in for the night in their bedrooms. An owl hooted somewhere outside; the song of crickets and frogs filled the night, lending a small piece of familiarity from the Old World to my ears. I wondered what Thais was thinking about. I only thought of her.
“Atticus?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think the rest of the world is as bad off as we are?”
I paused, musing.
“Before the grid went down,” I said, “I remember the news. We watched it all day, kept the TV on twenty-four-seven.” I stopped to reflect; my teeth manipulated the inside of my cheek as I recalled the things I’d witnessed on that mesmerizing screen. There was no such thing as censorship by that time; every news station that still broadcasted took advantage of the chaos, and covered—in great detail—every bloody murder, every horrific execution, every mob beating, even of their own reporters. “It was bad everywhere,” I went on somberly, staring at the dark ceiling brushed by slivers of moonlight.
“I think maybe there’s two people just like us,” Thais said, “somewhere on the other side of the world, asking the same questions, wondering if life will ever be the same again.”
Absently, I shook my head against the floor.
“Nothing will ever be the same as it was,” I told her. “Things may change, even for the better somewhere down the road, but nothing will ever be the same.”
I lay there, letting the shadow on the ceiling blur out of focus, replaced by images of the things I’d seen.
“Well,” she said, “I choose to believe that someday things won’t be so bad.”
“Maybe they won’t be,” I offered.
“They’re not so bad right now,” she said, but it was a question as much as it was a statement.
I turned my head to the side, facing the sofa where Thais lay; wisps of her dark hair hung over the cushion. I studied the outline of her face, the slope of her small nose, the plumpness of her lips, the roundness of her cheeks, the sharpness of her chin—I was fascinated by her soft beauty. “No,” I agreed, looking back up at the ceiling. “I guess things really aren’t so bad right now.”
Thais fell asleep minutes later, and once again, I couldn’t help but stay awake well into the night and early morning hours before dawn. But I did eventually pass out, and with me I took the uncertainty of my place beside Thais in the world. Am I strong enough to protect her from all this? Am I strong enough to protect her from me? Am I strong enough to protect myself from her?
I woke the following morning to the smell of breakfast. Bright sunlight spilled in through the windows, pooling on the floor near my head pressed awkwardly against the abrasive scruff of the area rug. A pool of drool surrounded my mouth and chin; I sucked in a driblet of saliva that hung from my bottom lip, and then reached up to wipe the rest away with the back of my hand. Thais stood over me, nudging my shoulder with the tip of her big toe, which was really quite small for a big toe, I thought.
“Get up,” she urged, a playful vibe in her voice. “Emily said breakfast is almost ready.”
She reached her hand out to me. “Need help? I bet that floor was murder on those ribs of yours.”
I got up on my own.
“I’m going to help Shannon in the garden today,” Thais said happily as she took up the quilt I’d slept on and folded it. “My garden was small at home,” she went on. “Grew mostly squash and carrots—had a lot of potatoes, too. Shannon said they haven’t had much luck growing squash. I told her I’d show her a few tricks I learned.”
Sill trying to wake up fully, I stretched my arms high above my head.
THAIS
I heard the cracking of Atticus’ back and the popping of the joints in his arms and his muscled neck. I caught myself glimpsing his abs and the obvious freckle set to the right of his navel. I looked away when his shirt slowly slid back down as he lowered his arms, easing out of the stretch. I felt my ears and cheeks get hot; the quilt in my hand was reduced to a perfect square by the time I was done with it—anything to make it appear as though I hadn’t been looking at him in such a way, even though I doubted he noticed.
“Hurry and come eat,” I insisted, setting the quilt on the end of the sofa, and then I slipped around the corner.
ATTICUS
I could’ve sworn Thais was looking—no, surely not. Shaking the thought from my mind, I went to the living room window and watched David standing in the front yard, tossing trash onto the burn pile. He could at least burn the damn tires farther away from the house. The thick black smoke was often offensive when the wind blew it in the wrong direction. But David, for all the survival skills he seemed to possess, was probably not so much an intelligent man with other things, and so I ignored it.
I went into the kitchen where Thais was helping Shannon and Rachel set the table. Rachel raised her dark eyes the second she saw me, but I ignored her, too.
Emily stood at the kitchen window, peering out into the field, but when she noticed me, she sprang away from the window and became immediately attentive. Overly attentive.
“Still not back yet?” I inquired about Lance, assuming that’s why she had been peering out the window so intently. And if Lance is Shannon’s boyfriend, why is she never watching for him?
Emily walked around the table with a fistful of forks, placing one next to each plate with no real uniformity.
“No, he’s not,” she answered. “But he’ll be all right. Been gone huntin’ for longer. Came back one time with a twelve-point buck.”
Hmm.
I looked over at Thais as she filled the glasses with fresh water from a pitcher. She smiled at me from across the table. I almost smiled back.
“So,” Emily said—the screen door creaked as David entered the house—“have ya decided to stay?” She sat down in her usual chair at the table.
David came into the kitchen, his boots clunking against the floor.
I nodded, and that simple gesture piqued everyone’s attention; heads shot up, eyes widened, fixed on me.
Having just made up my mind in the last two minutes, I remained standing for a moment, and then finally took my seat after everyone else.
So eager to hear my decision, Thais sat next to me, unmoving, quiet, and bursting with impatience.
I raised my chin, preparing to answer.
“Well,” I said, and paused. “I’ve decided that, if you’re all okay with it, then we should both stay here”—(before I could even finish the sentence Thais was all but bouncing with giddiness on her chair)—“and chip in any way we can to help out.” I looked at Emily first, who nodded with a giant yellowed smile, and then over at David, chewing a mouthful of eggs.
“Ya’s are welcome to stay for as long as ya want,” Emily said, beaming. “It’ll be nice to have some new faces ‘round.”
THAIS
I was relieved and excited by Atticus’ decision, and when I got excited, I talked a lot. Throughout breakfast the conversation around the table consisted of gardening and butchering and raising livestock and breaking horses and hunting buffalo—a herd had been spotted moving through the flatlands of southern Illinois and northwestern Kentucky.
Also during breakfast, I took more notice to how Rachel eyed Atticus from across the table. And I was realizing how much it bothered me.
“Thais,” Atticus called from the living room long after breakfast was over.
I left Emily in the kitchen where I had been helping her clear the table, to see what he wanted.
“Why don’t you come with me to the barn to help bring the horse and our backpacks up since we’ll be staying?”
Rachel practically skipped into the living room. “I’ll go with you,” she offered.
My hands crumpled into fists. I dropped the dish towel on the arm of the nearby chair, and moved toward Atticus.
“No, that’s okay,” I told Rachel with a pretend kind smile. “I can help him.” I wanted Rachel alone with Atticus about as much as I wanted to go back to Lexington City and be Rafe’s wife.
Shannon and Emily joined us in the living room.
“Why don’ all three of ya’s go?” Emily suggested. “Rachel, you can get a good look at the highway, see if there’s any sign o’Lance comin’ up yet.”
“Good idea,” David spoke up from his recliner where he sat reading a newspaper.
Atticus sighed, frustrated—Why did that make me smile?
Rachel followed us all the way to the big barn near the highway. The horse we’d arrived with stood grazing at the side of the barn with its snout buried in a tuft of grass.
“I can’t believe you two slept in here,” Rachel said, leading Atticus into the barn; she turned around and her nose scrunched up in her face as she glanced at the filth and spider webs. “Gives me the creeps.”
Atticus moved in behind Rachel like a blur, and Rachel shrieked when he pinned her arms behind her back, her long hair whipped around her.
“W-What are you doing!” Rachel screamed. “Let me go!”
I froze, eyes wide, as I tried to put together what was happening faster than my mind could grasp the pieces. “Atticus!” I shouted. “Stop it! What are you doing?”
Atticus moved across the barn floor and pinned Rachel’s body against the wall, pressing against her from behind, rendering her motionless.
“Oomph!” Rachel’s cheek flattened against the wood, her head turned to one side. “Fuckin’ lemme go! Are you crazy?!”
I stood shaking in my dress and my sandals. What’s happening?!
“Who’s coming?!” Atticus demanded through gritted teeth. “You tell me now who’s coming for us, or I’ll fucking kill you!”
“ATTICUS PLEASE!” I cried.
Feeling life rush into my limbs again, I ran up from behind, intent on stopping this, whatever it was, but Atticus swung his head around at me, and the only thing I stopped was myself. My chest heaved with breath; my mind swam in disorder. And fear. Seeing him treat Rachel so violently brought back all the horrors of being afraid of him as the Overseer.
“Thais,” he said, his eyes brimmed with anger and pleading, “I need you to back off for a second and wait. Can you do that?”
Although in my heart I knew his anger was not directed at me, my mind would let me interpret it no other way.
Rachel struggled against Atticus, the side of her face compressed against the hard surface. “You better let me go! I swear to God, you better let me go!”
“Get the duct tape from the backpack,” Atticus instructed. “Please, Thais, just get the tape from the bag. I need you to trust me. Can you trust me?”
Still unsure about everything, but trusting my instincts, if not Atticus, I nodded rapidly. I couldn’t let myself believe that after everything we had gone through together already, that he would hurt me. I knew that what he was doing to Rachel he only did because he had to—the why would have to wait.
I rushed over to the backpack and did exactly as he said. The barn filled with curses and threats as Atticus and I wrapped the tape around Rachel. Atticus sank in front of her into a crouch, and she glared up at him, wrapped in a sticky gray cocoon, unable to move her legs or arms.
“I’ll ask you one more time,” Atticus threatened, his jaw tight. “Who’s coming for us?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered defiantly.
Atticus rounded his chin; his jaw tightened and relaxed. I thought he was going stand up and walk away from her, but then I saw his massive fist, a quick flash in my vision, smack against the side of Rachel’s head, knocking her out cold. Her eyes rolled back before the lids fell over them; her cocooned body fell in the dirt.
“WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?!” I roared.
Atticus stood and whirled around at me, and the movement made me jump out of my skin. I sank back and away from him; both of my arms came up instinctively to cover my face.
ATTICUS
I frowned—she was terrified of me.
“Thais, please just listen to me”—I stepped closer cautiously; I didn’t want to scare her any more than I already had—“I don’t have time to explain everything to you right now, but I need you to do exactly as I say because someone’s coming for us and I don’t know how many there are, or how close they are, but someone is on their way here right now and I need you to trust me.” Every word dripped of desperation.
Thais’ wet eyes darted to and from me and Rachel who lay unconscious in the dirt, her dark hair laid out all around her head in a wild fashion; the side of her face swelled and changed colors.
“Why did you hit her?”
“I hit her so I wouldn’t have to kill her.”
There was no lighter way to say it, and I wanted only to tell her the truth.
Her eyebrows tightened; she took two more steps back.
“I couldn’t tell you what I’m about to tell you if she heard it,” I explained. “Please, Thais…I would never hurt you. You have to believe that—I would never hurt you.”
I held my breath, hoping she would believe me, until slowly she nodded and relief washed over me. I placed my hands on her arms and peered into her eyes.
“You’re going to leave on the horse”—I reached into my pants pocket to retrieve my compass dangling from a silver chain, and I placed into her hand—“with the backpacks, and this compass, and you’re going to travel through the woods heading west”—(already Thais was shaking her head no)—“but stay out of sight of the house. And I want you to go only as far as the outskirts of the woods, but don’t for any reason leave the cover of trees. Wait for me there.”
“I’m not going without you,” she refused, trying to give the compass back but I pulled my hand away, forcing her to keep it. “Atticus, I can’t go out there alone. What if someone finds me? I can’t—”
I put my gun into her other hand.
“If anyone comes for you,” I said, “you shoot them dead and don’t think about it—shoot them dead, Thais. But stay in the woods. I won’t be long. I’ll come for you.”
“Atticus, no…”
“You have to,” I said with intensity. “I have to make sure we aren’t followed. If we leave right now, and I don’t take care of what I need to here, we probably won’t get much farther.”
“Then why can’t I stay with you? I can hide here in the barn, or in the house.”
I grew impatient; time was a luxury we did not have.
“They’ll search the barn,” I said. “They’re coming from the highway—that much I know—and the first place they’ll look is in this barn. And they’ll search the house. And they’ll search everywhere around the house.”
“But what about you?”
I dropped my chin and swallowed what saliva was left in my mouth; my throat was incredibly dry.
“I’m staying back to kill as many of them as I can,” I said. “To give you a chance in case I can’t kill them all.”
Thais’ breath caught, and her eyes welled up with tears.
“Thais”—I held her head in my hand, pressed against my chest—“I need you to do this for me. I can’t fight them off if you’re here and I have to worry about them going after you.” I pulled her from my chest, held tightly onto her arms. “If I’m right, there’s a lot more to this family than this Little House on the Prairie bullshit.” I shook her gently, peering deeply into her eyes, trying not to lose her. “I’ll come for you soon. Wait for me.”
Thais’ body trembled underneath the weight of my hands.
“Atticus…what if you don’t? What if you don’t come for me?”
“I will.” My fingers tightened around her arms, the tips of them easily touching, my hands were so large and her arms so small.
THAIS
“But…what if you…can’t?” I could hardly get the word out; I didn’t want to believe it, or think about it—the can’t.
Atticus crouched in front of me, balanced on the toes of his boots. Our eyes met with such intensity that nothing could have pulled them away.
“If I don’t…if I can’t find you then I want you to keep moving toward Shreveport. Use my compass; pay attention to highway signs—odd numbers run north-south, even numbers run east-west.” He touched my hand again where the compass remained crushed beneath the arch of my fingers. “Travel only at night under the cover of darkness, hide and rest in the daylight hours, trust no one you meet, and”—he shook me again—“don’t be afraid to kill anyone who means to hurt you. Promise me, Thais, that you’ll defend yourself by any means necessary. Promise me.”
A flash of my mother’s face went through my mind. Run as fast as you can to get away, and if you don’t get away, you fight them, and if you have to, you kill them. A pain dug deeply into my heart, causing my body to shudder; I choked once on my tears, and then swallowed them down. It’s happening all over again. It’s happening all over again…
I had never been alone. I’d always had someone with me: my father, my sister, even Fernando Mercado. I had always been strong in heart and in spirit, but I was never foolish to think that a young woman could make it in the world on her own when there were no more laws or policemen or juries and judges—no more order. I was afraid to go alone, I was afraid of being out there in the terrible world we lived in without Atticus to protect me—I was afraid. But more than that, more than anything that could happen to me, I was afraid of the can’t, of Atticus being killed, especially for my freedom and my life.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I was supposed to travel with him until he got me out of Lexington City and then I was to make a run for it, kill him if I had to—but I didn’t. I was supposed to stay with these people and leave Atticus to do what he wanted, go where he wanted, without me—but I couldn’t. I was supposed to be afraid of him not only because of the terrible man he was when I first laid eyes on him, but also because he was a man—but I wasn’t. I wasn’t afraid of him.
I was afraid for him.
I was afraid of being without him…
“Thais?”
I looked up; my bottom lip quivered.
“I will wait for you,” I said, trying to be strong. I wiped my tears, swallowed hard and nodded.
Atticus dashed outside, pushing the barn door out of his way. Seconds later he came back with the horse. He tossed the quilt we’d slept on the night in the barn, over the horse’s back. Then he went over to the backpacks, stepping around Rachel’s unconscious body, and shoved everything back inside. He helped my arms into the straps of the larger backpack.
Fitting his hands on my hips, Atticus hoisted me up and set me on the horse; I grabbed a hold of the horse’s reins.
“Stay out of sight of the house,” he said as he fitted the smaller backpack and his jacket between my legs. “And cut through the woods there”—he pointed toward the back of the barn—“that’s west; just keep as straight as you can in that direction, but don’t leave the woods.”
I nodded.
He walked with me outside the barn, stopped to look out at the flat land beyond the highway where those coming for us would likely be, and then led me around the barn. The deep woods beckoned me out ahead; I couldn’t help but feel intimidated by them, as if they were some kind of final leg of our journey—or the beginning of my journey alone.
Steadying my breath, I looked down at Atticus once more, transfixed on his intense blue eyes, the sculpted shape and rough texture of his handsome face, and I couldn’t imagine at this point never seeing it again.
“I’ll come for you,” he promised.
Tearing my gaze from his, I faced forward and tightened my grip of the reins.
ATTICUS
I gave the horse’s backside a quick smack, and it took off, galloping through the grass. I watched her for only a moment, her hair waving behind her, bouncing against her back in the sunlight, and I couldn’t help but feel like it was the last time I’d ever see her, that I’d just sent her out alone on a road to Hell.
I composed myself, putting on the same casual face I wore when I left the family’s house, and then I set off toward it again, now armed only with a knife, and a purpose.