A Sky for Us Alone

by Kristin Russell

  Chapter 40

  HOGAN’S CROSS, WHERE RYAN’S cabin sat, was at least twenty miles from Kinley Road, and those miles went much slower on foot than they did in a four-wheeler. Walking was my best bet—it wouldn’t have been right for me to take Mama’s car from her for that long, even though I didn’t especially like the idea of her driving on pills, either. After an hour of hiking, my pack grew heavier than I expected and pushed against the gun in the back of my pants. I stopped and took one of the bottles of water from my bag, careful not to drink too much. If there was any clean water left hidden somewhere deep inside the mountain, I didn’t know how to find it, or have a thingamajig to make it drinkable. Then I moved the gun to the front of my pants, under my belt, adjusted the straps on my pack, and hoped things would get easier.

  When I found my pace, my body settled into the rhythm of the walk, and so did my mind. Thoughts speak loud when you have nothing but quiet and time and the tap of your feet against the earth with each step. I’d spent hardly any time on the mountain alone, and whenever I’d gone, it was usually with the boys, wheeling. It probably would have done me some good.

  Hawks swirled over the trees and squirrels ran from my step. Some of the leaves had already turned color from the summer drought and fallen to the ground. They cushioned my feet and gathered around the stumps where trees had been cut down for lumber. Before Amos bought the company, he promised to double replanting efforts, but of course he never followed through. He said the same thing about surface mining, but I don’t know why he thought anyone was dumb enough to believe that you could rebuild a mountain after you’d cut it down. That afternoon, even the dried and ruined parts of the mountain sparkled with the sun’s descent and hummed like one day, the mountain might rise up and take its revenge. Soon, the navy shadows grew longer and faded into the deepening sky. I wished Tennessee was there beside me, and thinking of her waiting at home for me made me walk a little faster.

  I figured if I kept traveling through the night, I’d reach Ryan’s cabin by noon the next day. When I couldn’t ignore the rumble of my stomach any longer, I stopped only long enough to eat a supper of jerky and a Snickers, the chocolate just slightly melted. I was so hungry I would have licked it all off the paper if I had to. I was a lot more grateful then that Mrs. Devin had thought to give them to me. I took the flashlight from the bottom of my pack, zipped everything back in place, and moved with a little more haste now that it was starting to get cooler in the dark. Owls woke from their sleep and hooted to one another. Two eyes blinked at me and then bounced away, a white tail flipped up at its rear, and two more deer bounded after it. I’d never seen or heard the mountain come alive that way when I’d been up there drinking with Jacob and Red. Then again, I guess we’d done so much hooting ourselves, we wouldn’t have heard anything else.

  The quiet was nice for a while, but it turned lonely fast. The purple shadows went black and I could only see whatever was within the flashlight’s reach. Every once in a while, I noticed the speckled glow of foxfire, or what the old-timers called fairy fire, growing wild on rotted stumps and branches. Tennessee and Omie would have loved to see the blue-green glow on the carpet of the woods, luminescent like a million fireflies. I imagined both of their faces lighting up alongside it. I gripped the flashlight tight, and kept its beam close to my feet and the ground ahead. Stumps and trees jumped out only in time for me to quickly dodge them, and I near tripped and smacked my head several times over. I’d pass one, then be faced with another straightaway, like I was trapped in one of Ryan’s pinball machines in his basement. My feet slipped on the leaves already damp with dew. When I came to a tree three times my size, I stopped and leaned against it to catch my breath.

  I looked for the road, but couldn’t find it, and wondered if I should keep going in the same direction I was headed, stop and look harder for it, or wait it out until the light of day. A coyote howled and, by the sound, was close enough to smell me. I panted and quickened my steps, scared that the coyote or something worse might pounce before I could manage the gun.

  The flashlight flickered and I banged on the bottom of it, thinking that maybe it just needed a little slap to stay awake, but no such luck. The darkness rattled my nerves. I reached into my pocket for my phone, but the battery was dead and I cussed myself for not thinking to bring either batteries or my charger, not that I’d be able to plug it in. I stood for a second and blinked into the night, and after a few minutes, noticed my eyes adjusted a little better. Enough light traveled from the moon and stars through the branches for me to see the outline of my fingers when I held them up in front of my face. Slowly, I put one foot in front of the other. After a little while I was more confident and quickened the pace again. Soon I was dodging trees and the sound of small animals as I ran. If I could keep it up, I might get to Jacob even sooner than I thought.

  Then the ground opened and there was only air under my feet and a swift pang of terror through the rest of me. I bounced off a root and landed on my back. My head felt like an ax pierced it. My ears filled with the sound of blood rushing. I lay there, not wanting and not able to move, and confused about where I’d missed a step. Finally, I sat up slow and carefully touched the back of my head, finding a wet knot as big around as one of the roots beneath me. My hand was damp with blood, and soon the side of my face was too. That’s what you get for rushing, I thought through the throbbing in my skull. I’d been so hell-bent that I thought I could beat the darkness and this gaping hole it’d covered from view. Now I’d be behind, and I had no idea how much farther I had to go to the cabin. I hadn’t left much room for the unexpected, obviously not the smartest bet.

  I slid the pack off my shoulders and searched inside for something to soak up my blood, finding only the burlap that had been wrapped around Mama D’s gun. A new pain shot up through my ankle and all the way into my shin, and I realized the revolver was no longer tucked under my belt. I felt around until finally my fingers touched metal.

  I tightened my belt around the gun again and balanced on the ankle that didn’t hurt. It grew even darker then, the moonlight falling short of the hole. If there was one thing I should have been looking for on the mountain, it was sudden drops where earth and trees were missing, but this was something different, I was sure. Holding my hands out in front of me, I found the edge of the ditch. It felt like someone had hacked the earth clean through, the drop was so sharp. Feeling my way around, I realized the thing had four definite sides. Judging the depth and width, it wasn’t just a hole I’d fallen into, but a grave waiting to be filled. Panic filled every space of me and I stumbled backward.

  My throat closed, and the throbbing in my head grew stronger. The only thing I needed was to get out as fast as I could. I gripped an edge to pull myself out, but the grass above came free in my hands and the dirt crumbled beneath it. My arms shook, all the strength in them leaving. I couldn’t breathe, and worried that soon the earth would swallow me whole. The same panic I’d felt at the lake about Nate poured over me, and my heart sped, sickness spreading from my stomach to my fingertips until they went numb. Just breathe, Harlowe. Breathe, I remembered Tennessee saying.

  I managed to slow my mind a little and sat down, my back against one side of the grave. I waited with the gun in my lap. Each minute stretched too long, and it seemed that dawn resisted coming to me on purpose. I tried to take my mind off things by figuring out how far I’d already come, guessing I must be at least halfway to Ryan’s cabin, though I might have lost some distance by losing my way. Part of my mind wanted to give up, and the other fought against it. I listened to the two sides argue with each other until my eyes grew heavy, but I couldn’t let them shut for the animals that might be lurking. I was wounded prey, trapped where I couldn’t escape.

  A few minutes later, still unable to move, I decided to wait patiently, the thing I should have done as soon as my flashlight went out. The moon came into sight again and shone through the branches above, casting crossed shadows on my skin and
the dirt around me. Here and there, stars speckled the bit of sky that the branches couldn’t block from my view. The pieces of light and the sound of small feet scurrying through leaves kept me awake. I strained to see the creatures beyond the edge of the hole, still sure they were waiting to pounce, their eyes flickering invitations to one another.

  I let myself imagine getting out and going home without finding Jacob. Maybe this was as far as I would make it. But then I thought about Nate, who worked so hard to get into the office at the mines but hated working for Amos, Daddy sick without telling any of us, and Mama glued to her recliner living every day half-asleep. I thought about Jacob with a baby that never saw him and secrets that kept him hiding in the woods, and Red, who would likely spend most his life paying off his mama’s debt. Tennessee and Omie deserved more than what Strickland made of people, and by the same right, I figured I did too.

  I held my hand steady on the gun and settled myself into the dirt. It was just dirt. The animals above me couldn’t fight a gun, and the sun couldn’t stop itself from rising again. There was nothing else I could do until there was light enough for me to see. Once I really accepted it, there was a strange comfort in having to be still, like someone had given me a blanket when I hadn’t yet realized I was cold. And soon enough, the night began to lift as if it had only been waiting for me to stop expecting it.

  Before it was fully light, I heard footsteps walking toward me. When it peered over the edge at me, I was so glad it was human and not a wolf or grizzly that I almost yelled, but reminded myself that mountain people could be jumpy and even more mistrusting of people. As far as I could tell by the frame and hair, it was a woman, with a shotgun slung over her shoulder. I gripped the gun under my fingers, just to be sure of it.

  “I bet you weren’t looking for a soft place to lay your head down there,” she said, standing directly over me.

  “No. It was a hard landing,” I said. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear a human’s voice.” I pulled myself to a squat and squinted up at her, still unable to see anything but her outline against the brightening sky.

  She leaned over the edge and extended her hand. I gathered my things, and when I reached for her I was surprised by her strength while she pulled me up and over without strain. Once I was out and could see her face, I noticed her features were sharp and strong, with something a little familiar in them. A shock of white fell from her forehead, stark against the rest of her long dark hair. She swung her shotgun around to her back.

  “My name’s Nuna,” she said.

  Chapter 41

  “YOU’RE DARLA DRAUGHN’S SISTER?” I asked.

  “I am. Hand me your things.”

  I looked at her another minute, wondering if she could be trusted after the falling-out she’d had with Mama Draughn. My ankle ached worse now that I was standing on it, and I needed to at least clean up a little before getting to Jacob. I handed her my pack and she threw it over the shoulder that held her shotgun. Now that I was on somewhat even ground, I noticed a large mound beside the grave, the grass already grown over it, plus a covering of fallen leaves. I wondered who the grave was meant for, and why it had never been filled.

  “This way,” Nuna said, and took off walking.

  I followed her, but the pain shot from my ankle all the way into my thigh, and stopped me. I limped behind her as fast as I could and tried not to whimper.

  “That won’t do at all,” she said, and came up alongside of me. She wrapped her arm around my waist, and threw mine over her shoulder.

  “Did she tell you I was coming up here?”

  “Do you always ask so many questions?”

  “Your sister would probably say as much,” I said, sensing already that Nuna wouldn’t be as forthcoming as Mama Draughn was with me.

  She remained silent until we came upon a small cabin, one I hadn’t seen the last time we were all up at Ryan’s, or any of the other times we’d ventured that far on our four-wheelers.

  There was an old truck and an outhouse behind the cabin. Nuna brought me limping through the door, my arm still around her shoulder. Then she pulled a chair out from the table in the middle of the one-room cabin and set me in it. She stood at the sink with her back to me and I took a quick look around. There was a bed in the corner, a small table covered with books, crates of supplies against the back wall, and in the kitchen, next to the wood-burning stove, a shelved cabinet holding pots and pans, metal tins, and some gardening tools.

  “Darla called me yesterday and told me to be on the lookout,” she said, deciding to finally answer my question. “Been a long time since we’ve spoken to each other, so I figured you must be pretty important to her.” She handed me a mug of water. I swallowed it all in one gulp and she filled a pitcher at the sink before placing it beside me. Then she lit a fire under the stove and set a kettle over the burner.

  “You should put that foot up,” she said, her back to me. “Only way to get the swelling down.” She came over with a bowl full of water and a rag. “Let me take a look at your head. No squirming, now.” She cleaned my face first. I felt the dried blood and dirt come off in pieces, and then she went around to the back of my head. “It’s not all that bad,” she said, but when she put the wet rag on it I jumped. “Small cut. Probably bruised more than anything.”

  “I’m familiar with that feeling,” I said, and pulled one of the chairs closer, resting my foot on it. My eyes grew when I saw the size my ankle had become, and the dark color it had already turned. Nuna moved quickly around the kitchen, and I watched close, wondering what she was planning to do next. She looked like one of my teachers, Mr. Elliot Ward, when he concentrated so hard on a science experiment that he forgot we were in the room and set off the fire alarm. Nuna wasn’t the kind of person anyone would call graceful, but there was something spectacular in her movements, and the way her arms moved about like slender forklifts. Her laced boots clunked against the wooden planks, each step an exclamation mark. More than anything, she made me very nervous.

  The kettle screamed on the stove and the sound pounded against my head. Nuna walked to the shelf and took down a metal box, opened the tin, and dropped whatever she’d taken from it into a clay teapot. The screaming stopped when she lifted the kettle from the stove and poured the steaming water. She stirred it once, set the lid on the pot, and brought it over to the table.

  The tea rested between us, and Nuna stared at me in silence, her hands folded in her lap. I looked away from her steady gaze and shifted my ankle on the chair. She filled the mug with strong tea and the room with an even stronger smell.

  “You need to drink all of that down,” she said.

  “What is it?”

  “Arnica, calendula, horsetail, a little valerian to help you relax.”

  I stared into the green liquid and then raised my eyes to her, skeptical of the smell. “You trying to knock me out or something?” I asked.

  “Look, I don’t know if Darla tried to scare you about me or not, but I’ve no reason to wish you ill. Think you might have guessed that by now, seeing how I took the time to find you and bring you into my home. It’s true that I prefer to keep to myself, and don’t mix much with strangers, so I’d say you should count yourself lucky more than anything,” Nuna said.

  “Mama Draughn didn’t say much about you, just that you don’t visit anymore.” I lifted the mug and blew on the steam, wincing at the stench. “I don’t mean to seem ungrateful. I’ve just become careful lately,” I said, and took a sip. I must have made another face because Nuna passed me a small jar of honey.

  “That’s from this year’s hive,” she said.

  I drizzled some into the mug and then licked what had dripped onto my finger. “Are there any sourwood trees left up here?” I asked, thinking of Mr. Draughn’s story of the bees.

  “Only a few, but I’ll shoot anyone who tries to take what’s left. I’m glad you know about them—they bring the best honey.”

  “That’s what your sister always say
s.” I took another sip of tea. “Looks like I’ll have to wait a little longer for the swelling to go down,” I said, nodding at my foot. “Mind telling me what happened between the two of you?”

  Chapter 42

  NUNA SANK FARTHER INTO her chair and then swept away the white streak that had fallen across her face, before crossing her arms. “You don’t mind pushing people, do ya?”

  “What’s the worst that could happen? Like you said, you went to all the trouble to save me once. I don’t think you’d shoot me now, considering what we’ve already gone through.”

  She let out a single deep-throated laugh and, leaning forward again, rested an elbow on the table. “Remember, I don’t keep much company. I’m not used to talking.”

  “Well, I’m in a hurry, so you don’t have to worry about me overstaying my welcome or anything.”

  “That’s a comfort at least,” she said, and then her face became serious again. “How much did she tell you about June?”

  “I know she’s sad about her leaving and never calling. Kind of the same as she is with you, come to think of it. I only knew June a little before she left Strickland, but I was so young. She didn’t turn out the way Mama D hoped she would. Is that it? Is Mama Draughn ashamed of her?”

  “No, Darla’s more ashamed of herself than anyone.”

  “Why?”

  “That isn’t my story to tell,” Nuna said. “You’ll have to ask her yourself.” She reached for my mug and when I handed it to her, she filled it again. “Your turn. What are you looking for up here?”

  “I think a friend of mine is at Hogan’s Cross. And yes, I need him to answer some questions for me. About my brother.”

  “You sure he wants to be found? Most people who come this far up don’t.”

  I had managed to down half of the second mug by then. “No, I don’t think he wants anyone bothering him, me included, but it’s come to a point that I have to.” I realized that probably didn’t sit all that well with Nuna.