Page 56 of Heart of the Sun

“One.”

“One what?”

“One day.”

“Badass. Okay. Think barriers, trenches, traps.” I looked over to Lavina, who seemed to be fading emotionally by the moment. “Get her home. Start building right away.”

Abram nodded, seeming bolstered by the plan. He extended his hand, and I clasped it. “You’re traveling, right? Take the other horse and buggy. We only need one to return in. I use the compartments to deliver goods for my business, but I don’t think that will be necessary for a while,” he said, his voice tinged with sadness. “I trust that you’ll take care of our horse.” I looked over at the horses, both of which were nibbling the grass in front of them and drinking from the puddles of melted snow as they recovered from their run-of-terror.

“I’m grateful for the offer. Thanks. We will. We’ll take care of her.” The beautiful thing about horses was that there was food everywhere for them. Hell, maybe we could travel all the way to California by horse and buggy. It’d take a while, but it sure would be nice not to have to walk.

Abram helped his daughter up into the seat of their buggy, and then climbed up and sat down next to her. I waved goodbye as he turned and began trotting out of sight.

That’s when I noticed several people on their porches, peering curiously at us. I gave a tentative wave, wondering if we’d walked into more trouble, but the people waved back, one man giving us a thumbs-up. Emily and Charlie stood as a man crossed the street and headed our way.

“You rescued them, didn’t you?” the man said as he approached. He held out his hand, and we shook in turn. “Tim Cramer. Word traveled that those men were breaking into businesses. Never seen Amish do shit like that. I knew we had some bad apples in our midst.”

I gave Tim our names. “You were right to be concerned.They were prisoners who must have gotten free when the electricity went off. They abducted a father and his daughter and…weren’t treating them well.”

His gaze held mine for a moment before he thinned his lips and nodded. “More and more of that seems to be happening. I suspect it’ll get worse before it gets better. If prisoners are escaping…damn.”

I nodded in agreement because what that likely meant was that not only had the power and generators failed, but guards had deserted their posts. “Any word at all from local officials around here?”

“Nope. Radio silence. Even the officers who live in town are home taking care of their own.”

“Mr. Cramer—”

“Tim.”

“Tim. The two escaped convicts are back that way, likely gravely injured if not—”

“I’ll send word that they need to be picked up.” He gave me a resolute nod. “I’m grateful we didn’t have to contend with more than that. They were armed and headed this way.”

I glanced back the way we’d come. “We’ll need to backtrack to collect our gear.” As much as I didn’t want to do that, I wasn’t willing to give up the precious possessions we had.

“Stay put,” Tim said. “I’ll use the walkie-talkie and have a couple of the kids bike your things to you. Where’d you leave it?”

“I appreciate that.”

I described where our packs could be found and Tim gave me a fist bump. “You did us a solid and we’re grateful to you.”

I mustered a tired smile. The adrenaline was leaving my body and taking my energy with it. Even so, we’d need to get back on the road. Despite that I wouldn’t want to live through the terrifying, precarious moments on that runaway buggy as I fought for my life, because of the experience, we now had a horse and a firearm.And being in possession of a gun—especially—was damn lucky because no one was going to be willingly parting with any right now.

chaptertwenty-four

Emily

I was still attempting to come to terms with what we’d just experienced as we’d careened through a small town on runaway horses. And now Charlie and I were collapsed in the narrow compartment that featured one bench seat while Tuck assumed the reins.

Only a few days before, heck, maybe the day before, I’d have preferred it. Now I felt annoyed and antsy sitting in the buggy with Charlie when what I really wanted to do was climb onto the seat next to Tuck and talk about what had happened. Charlie seemed intent on telling the tale from his perspective again and again, droning on about how he thought he was going to die, his life flashing in front of him, all the good he’d done for the world, and the knowledge that if he died, he’d leave behind dozens of films and television cameos that would bring joy to the world for generations to come.

He wasn’t necessarily wrong. Art did bring joy, movies and television shows provided necessary distraction and comfort too.Families gathered to watch them, and positive messages were relayed through stories. I got all that, and maybe I’d have said something similar a few weeks before about what I hoped my legacy would be. But now? Now I was confused and off-kilter, all my priorities shifted and rearranged so that I didn’t remember exactly the order they’d been in and why. And Charlie… Charlie still seemed unfazed by the things he’d seen around him. If he loved stories so much, why was his the only one that seemed to move him?

There was something else floating around the corners of my mind, but I was too exhausted to delve into my vague thoughts and foggy feelings. And who even knew if all the stress hormones and surges of adrenaline that had released earlier had fried a few synapses.

But when Charlie fell asleep midsentence a few minutes later, I got up quietly and opened the small door with a nervous glance backward. When I saw that Charlie hadn’t moved, a snore rattling from his open mouth, I climbed around the slow-moving buggy and then plopped in the seat next to Tuck.

He looked over at me, his expression mildly surprised for a moment before he raised a brow. “I thought you’d prefer to be chauffeured.”

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