Page 120 of Everything Under the Sun

“Stay away from me,” I demanded.

I walked backward until the thorny blackberry bush stopped me; the blackberries I’d just picked squished beneath my sandals.

The young man, early-twenties, raised both hands up at his sides as if to assure me he meant no harm. A bulky backpack sat heavily on his back with various items of necessity strapped to and dangling from it: a rolled-up sleeping bag, a drab silver canteen, a hiking pole made of metal, a compass much like Atticus’ hung from a chain.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said in a kind voice, his hands still raised out at his sides. “I’m just passing through. Heading to Colorado.” He glanced around the area, then down at the empty bowl and blackberries scattered at my feet. “Do you live here?”

My eyes darted to and from the path leading back to the cabin, and the man blocking that path. Can I get past him fast enough? I didn’t think I could—the need to be near Atticus was greater than ever.

“Look,” the young man said, taking steps backward rather than toward me, “I swear I’m not here to hurt you. I didn’t even know anybody was out here.”

Without taking my eyes off him, I scrambled to get the blackberries back into the bowl.

“I’m not alone,” I warned. I rose into a stand; the bowl tucked underneath my arm was pressed to my ribs. “M-My…husband is right there in that cabin. All I have to do is scream and he’ll hear me. He’s outside right now cleaning a fish.”

I looked toward the cabin; the roof was still visible, but far enough away that the trees around it engulfed everything else, and if I screamed, Atticus might not actually be able to hear me right away.

“Good, then,” the man said. “I’ll go and speak with your husband.”

He walked away, leaving me alone with the blackberry bush.

Confused—though very much relieved—I stood there for a moment, watching him get farther away as he weaved his way down the leaf-and-pine-needle-littered path; his bulky backpack so tall and full it covered the back of his head. I noticed a chain dangling from the back of his cargo pants; it made a jangling noise as he walked. I also saw the handle of a big bowie knife jutting from a sheath at his hip, and then my heart filled with dread.

What if he catches Atticus by surprise?

I took off running, and zipped around him, hoping he wouldn’t grab me.

“I’ll tell him you’re here!”

I ran.

“Atticus!” I called out as I neared the cabin.

ATTICUS

I looked up from the severed fish, just as Thais burst through the trees and into the backyard. Knowing right away that something was wrong, I grabbed my gun from the porch.

“Thais!” I went toward her in heavy, thundering strides, and then saw a second figure emerge from the trees behind her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t take my gun,” she said, out of breath. “B-But I don’t think he’s dangerous. He’s just traveling. He didn’t—”

I grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her behind me as the man stepped into view.

“What do you want?” I demanded, my gaze severe. “Who are you?” I was ready to shoot the guy right then, not giving a shit about what he wanted or who he was, but I thought, for Thais, I’d at least give the stranger a chance to answer.

The man put up his hands.

“Put your knife on the ground!” I demanded. “Now!”

“All right, all right,” the man said, doing what he was told.

“Now step away from it!”

The man stepped away from it.

“Farther.”

The man stepped away from it farther.

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