That’s Byrdie.
“Thank you,” Nash says, and pulls out five crisp twenties from his wallet and gives them to her. “You’ve been more helpful than you’ll ever know.”
Her eyes widen, and she snatches the money as if scared he’ll change his mind. She hurries off with her shopping cart, then slows after a handful of steps, and turns back. “One more thing,” she calls out before we can leave the alley.
“What is it?” Nash asks her.
“The girl…” She hesitates, gnawing at her bottom lip. “She seemed…different.”
Nash frowns. “Different how?”
“Lost. She was wandering around as if it was her first time in a city. Even if she hadn’t been wearing the Amish dress, I’d have thought she’d escaped from a convent or something. She had bare feet. Bare feet in the city…” She shakes her head at the ridiculousness of it. “Not even the homeless do that.”
She was here, and now we have some idea of where she came from.
As suddenly as she stopped to tell us the most important piece of information we could have gotten, the woman hurries away, the cans in her cart rattling.
We look at each other.
“That was Byrdie,” Nash says, and we all nod.
“And it sounds like she wandered away from a cult,” I mutter.
“We need a hotel with Wi-Fi to look for any known cults in New Mexico. It’s probably going to take us all night.” Vonn gives me an exasperated look. “Like some idiot told me, New Mexico is a big state, but that works in our favor. Means she’s unlikely to have crossed the border from another state. At least, I hope not. We’ll start looking for cults in New Mexico, but that’s Byrdie. I’m sure of it.”
Chapter 6
Byrdie
Iwill die out here.
My body doesn’t want to recognize what my mind knows, so I keep walking.
Planting one foot in front of the other, with my eyes fixed on a horizon that never comes any closer, I just keep going.
I don’t even know where I’m walking anymore. Part of me stopped caring miles ago. The only thing I’m certain of is that if I stop, I won’t start again. And so I walk.
My feet have stopped burning. It’s the top of my head that’s on fire now.
Minutes ago, I ordered myself to stop thinking about Mom. It only hurt, and when the tears started, nothing came.
Now I think about water. About ice cream. About going on a stroll through the freezer department in a grocery store. Of how cool the air is that blasts you in the face when you pull the chiller door open.
Until I take a step forward and there’s nothing there.
It’s so sudden, so unexpected, I forget to scream, or maybe I don’t have time; I’m falling that fast. Grunting, I roll down an incline I never saw coming.
With a groan, I finally stop, lying on my back. My head is ringing, and I have no strength to pick myself up when I hear it.
Whatisthat?
Something is dragging itself along the ground.
I angle my aching head to the right.
A snake.
I stare at it, disbelieving.
