“We crawl through the hole?”
“Yes, Sammy. And then—”
“He’ll be our dad?”
Abby’s chest caved a bit at those words.Oh, Sammy.She screwed her eyes shut and pulled him along. Even as a kid, she’d taken care of him. Like a little brother. Like her own child.
“Not exactly. But he’ll help us.” She closed her eyes, hoping she was right. “He’s a good man.”
From somewhere behind them—Abby couldn’t tell how far—came the sound of shouting. It took a few seconds before it sank in. When it did, she tightened her hold on Sammy and dragged him up and toward the fence. She worried as he struggled to keep up behind her. Would running like this set off one of his fits?
Another shout, so much closer now, had them doubling their efforts. Sammy, sensing her fear, didn’t need to be told to hurry. Bless him.
It hurt her lungs to run so hard. It had to be worse for Sammy. It was when he started coughing that she began to lose hope. The men would hear them now, surely.
She pictured the path ahead. One last curve, the short, rocky climb, and then the home stretch. Picking up speed, she knew they could do this.I have enough strength for both of us.All they needed to do was make it to the hole and—
With a thump, she fell hard and rolled a few feet downhill. The air was knocked out of her, and her lungs hurt.
Pushing hard at the pain, she got up onto all fours, eyes focusing on Sammy’s scuffed black shoes—no more adapted to this escape than hers—then up to his face.
“Go!” she hissed and pointed to the hole, invisible in the dark but only about fifty yards ahead now. “There. See where I’m pointing?” At Sammy’s nod, she went on. “You go straight that way, to the fence. The hole is at the bottom. Get down and crawl through. Then you go to where there’s light. Understand?”
“Not goin’ without you, Abby. I can’t do—”
“Don’t you dare wait for me, or I’ll be angry, Sammy,” she said through gritted teeth, the lie bitter on its way out. She could never be angry with him, but now wasn’t the time to show softness. Softness, right now, could very well mean death. “You go through the hole and down the hill till you get to the cabin. And then you tell Luc you need his help. Got it?”
He didn’t answer right away, and she stood, cringing at the pain of her ankle. “Go on, Sammy. That way.”
Behind them, footsteps could be heard, and the voices, louder, closer, more pressing. Dogs barked.
She’d dropped her things when she fell, but it didn’t matter. None of this would matter if Sammy didn’t make it. They were close now, too close. If she continued, they were sure to catch them, especially since she’d surely sprained her ankle and—
Oh Lord. Somewhere, not too far ahead, was the hole in the fence that meant escape. She took another step and bit back a howl of pain as she sank to her knees.
“See the fence?” Sammy nodded, and she shoved him, hard. “Go. The hole’s right there. Don’t look for me. Don’t wait. And don’t make a sound.”
“Not without you, Abby,” he said, that stubborn weight to his voice.
“Look. I’m slower than you right now, but I’m coming, okay?”
When he hesitated, she went on. “It’s like hide-and-seek, Sammy. It’s a game, okay? But you’ve got to win for me. Can you do that?”
She waited, breath held, for him to think it through.
“Find Grape Man—”
“Luc.”
“Find Luc and wait for you.”
She opened her mouth to protest and then closed it. No time. “Yes. Now go!Go!”
Once he’d taken off, turning back was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but Sammy would never get through if she didn’t head the others off. Standing up, she gathered up her things, ignoring the swath of light that said someone was just on the other side of the rocks, until the footsteps were impossible to ignore.
Slowly, she raised her face to the spotlight, which picked her out of the dark night.
“Who’s there?” she asked, covering her fear with bravado. Something she’d seen once, in town, flashed through her mind. A sports poster, she thought. It had readGo big or go home, and she decided to take that to heart.
