instruction. Finally, we were all packed and ready to go.
Just as we got on our horses, with the spare ones on a leader behind us, the door opened. Ms. Pittman stood in the open doorway, her mouth open.
“What are you kids doing?” she asked.
In response, Devin kicked his horse in the ribs and charged through the doorway. Ms. Pittman dodged the oncoming horse and fell to the ground, letting out a little squeal as she fell. The rest of us followed Devin, and I looked down at Ms. Pittman on the ground as I passed. I worried about her being hurt, but realized that we were at the point of no return.
Devin took us down a path that led away from the front of the school and through a break in the fence in the back that I suspected he’d used many times before. It was a beautiful April morning, and if we hadn’t already seen what we had this morning, I could pretend that it was simply a day off from school, a day for a getaway with my friends.
Except that I knew the truth.
We weren’t taking a leisurely horseback ride. We weren’t even students at an exclusive private school for girls anymore.
We were refugees, running for our lives, looking for any opportunity we could find to stay alive.
We had discovered a solution to our lack of transportation. But in the back of my mind, I wondered how long our clever solution would last. Back to ToC
7. howls in the night
ELLIE: EASTERN TENNESSEE: DAY 715
I paused. The night was filled with the sound of crickets and running water from the river. A pale sliver of moon jutted over the distant hills, and the stars littered the night sky.
“Go on,” Infinity urged me.
“That’s…that’s all I remember,” I muttered, feeling ashamed.
“Well, that’s a start,” Infinity said. “More will come later, I’m positive.”
“Hope so,” I said. “It got me wondering what happened to Obstinate—I mean Damien.”
“You mean, was he the one who led us to the camp with the soldiers.”
“Well yeah, but like Evangelist said, it was two years. A lot could have happened.”
“Well, you wish you could remember more. I wish I could remember anything.”
“Like you said, it’ll come,” I said. “You do remember your dad, and that’s good. I have a hard time remembering my mom and dad. Mostly just stuff from when I was little.”
My words were followed by the sound of a howl. I had heard coyotes before, but this was different. It came from something larger, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
“What’s that?” Infinity said.
“Just a coyote,” I lied. “He’s probably miles away from here.”
Another howl broke the stillness, and then another, and then a third. We looked at each other through the darkness.
“That’s no coyote,” Infinity said.
“Sure it is,” I said. “I’ve heard them before lots when I went camping.”
“You said you went shopping, not camping.”
“My dad took me camping when I was little.”
Another howl soared through the air, followed by something surprising. A cough. It was the sound of a human coughing. And then a laugh.
We looked at each other again. Whoever they were, they weren’t afraid to make sound in the darkness, unlike Infinity and me. We stared at each other for a long time. Finally I broke the silence with my whisper.
“What do we do?”
I could see Infinity’s silhouette in the darkness and she didn’t move, so I could tell she was thinking. When the howls began, the first thing I had wished for was a campfire. Now I was glad we didn’t have one. The real question was who was out there, and whether they knew where we were.
“We have the advantage of a high spot,” she whispered back to me. “We lie still at the edge and look to see what we can see. If they’re coming toward us, I guess we run.”
“Run?” I repeated hoarsely. “Run where?”
Infinity shrugged and I cringed. I was liking this plan less and less.
We pulled away from our sleeping bags and slid on our
Marguerite Henry, Bonnie Shields