Page 84 of Everything Under the Sun

“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.

29

---