Page 43 of Backwoods
Focus, Nick thought, though he felt almost paralyzed with worry for Amiya.Find out what I need to know and make a plan.
“Back to my grandpa, the Caretaker. Have you ever seen him? Did he ever come around the plantation?”
“He lives over the bridge,” Raven said. “I can’t cross over the bridge because I have the mark—no one can, except maybe the Overseer. But I saw the Caretaker in other places, not on the plantation but around the lake. Like I said, you can’t talk to him. I never tried.”
“If you had talked to my granddad, he would have helped you leave this place,” Nick said. “I’ve known him my entire life. He’s a good man.”
Raven shook her head, smiled sadly.
“The Caretaker knows about all of us,” she said. “But he won’t help us.”
Nick was tempted to argue with her that Grandpa Lee could not have possibly known what was going on back there, but he had an uneasiness in his stomach about voicing such words. The truth was, his granddad must have known. The question was: Why did he allow it?
“My granddad is around here somewhere,” Nick said. “I need to find him, and I need to get Amiya out of the house.”
“Before dark,” Raven said.
“Can you help me?” he asked.
She picked up a pebble, got to her feet. She tossed the rock across the creek, making it skip across the short span of water.
Finally, she glanced at him. “You think I’m crazy. You don’t believe half of what I told you.”
“I think you’ve been through a lot, Raven. You’ve lived out here for four years. I think you have a distorted perception of things.”
“I wish,” she said, and turned away. She tossed another pebble into the water. “But I can show you something that’ll change your mind. Come on.”
27
Raven took him to the bridge.
Nick always remembered the old wooden bridge, which spanned a narrow ribbon of stream, as being the entrance to “Westbrook proper,” as his grandfather routinely explained it. Earlier, before all of this madness descended on them, he and Amiya had struggled to find their way back to it. Raven guided him through the woods and to the crossing easily; within fifteen minutes, the wooden structure was within sight.
“You really know your way around out here,” he said.
“I don’t have a choice,” she said. “I have to stay ahead of the helpers and the Overseer. I use the trees to mark my way.”
She pointed out miniature carvings on the tree trunks. He had seen those marks before and hadn’t paid them much attention, figuring they had been created by animals pecking at the wood.
“Smart,” he said. “So you’ve got your own navigation system.”
“Sort of.” She shrugged. “Came from necessity, I guess.”
“Once we cross that bridge, I can get help for us,” he said. “I can get back to my grandpa’s house, get to my truck, and go tothe police. We can put an end to everything here: this plantation, the Overseer, the helpers . . . you’ll be free.”
“I won’t be able to leave,” she said. “But maybe you can get help for us, like you said.”
As they closed in on the bridge, his spirits soared. He increased his pace from a brisk walk to a jog, shoes scraping across the dirt lane. He should have been exhausted after the day’s struggles, but hope had given him newfound energy.
Raven tried to keep up but soon fell behind him.
“Come on!” he said, urging her along. “We’re almost there!”
He reached the bridge, the wood creaking under his weight. Slowing, he turned to find Raven had drawn to a stop. She eyed the crossing warily, avoided setting her feet on the wood, and wouldn’t touch the railing either.
Nick was halfway across. “Raven, let’s go. It’s okay.”
“I wanted to show you this.” She glanced at him, fear brimming in her eyes. She peeled back a lock of hair, giving him a full view of the mark branded on her face. “Watch.”
