by Gwen Cole
Darcy waves and walks over, scooping up Will when she gets close. Now that he’s up higher, he carefully strokes Jack’s nose.
“Are you headed for the train?” she asks.
“Yeah, I was going to see if they’re finished yet. Are you guys headed there, too?”
“We were, yeah,” Darcy says, setting down Will. “Damon is over there right now.”
“I could walk over with you and give Will a ride.” I look down at the little boy. “Would you like to ride up here with me?”
He smiles again and looks to Darcy, seeing if he’s allowed to. She picks him up and sets him in front of me. His little fists grab onto Jack’s mane and he hangs on, using his legs.
“I think he’s a natural,” I tell her, nudging Jack into a walk.
Darcy walks beside us, watching Will. “I’m afraid so. It seems like we’ll have to start saving for a horse, along with everything else.”
I think about what Finn told me last night, about the coal being gone. What will happen today when the Lawmen come and find we don’t have enough to make quota? What will happen to Will and his parents? Thoughts about the Lawmen’s visit today kept me up most of the night. Apprehension rises in my stomach with every passing minute, so much that I feel sick.
“I’m sure you’ve heard about the coal,” Darcy says, her smile vanishing. “Damon told me about it last week.”
I nod but don’t say anything. The train comes into view, everything here except the Lawmen to take it away. They’ve already finished loading it. It usually takes until noon, and yet they’re done hours early—proof that something isn’t right.
Nearly the whole town is here, ready for what’s to come. Whatever that may be.
I carefully lift Will down into Darcy’s arms, and she thanks me before going to find her husband. From up on Jack, I can see Finn on the other side of the square. There’s a group of men near him, talking and laughing like they’re trying to forget what’s wrong. But Finn sits by himself despite them.
I slide off Jack and lead him through the crowd toward my brother. There’s a streak of black across his cheek and he looks tired. He must’ve changed after loading the train, because he’s wearing a long-sleeved thermal instead of the work clothes he left in this morning. I join him on the stone wall near the tracks, Jack greeting him with a nibble to his knee.
A smile brushes along Finn’s lips. He rubs Jack’s head and the horse pushes into Finn, wanting more.
“They’ll be coming soon,” he says.
“What do you think’ll happen?”
“I don’t know, but nothing good. Billy said he went to Carton last week because they sent word they were having the same problems.” The Lawmen collect there first, closer to Kev, and then us. Finn runs a hand through his hair. It comes away slightly shaking. “The town was burned to the ground,” he says in a low voice. “And they took everyone who survived.”
My stomach tightens and the air is cold. Nothing like this has ever happened before. The coal has always been here. Did anyone ever think it wouldn’t be?
“Finn, what are we going to do?” I glance around, making sure nobody is listening to us. We don’t need people to panic.
“There’s nothing we can do,” he says. “It’s too late for that.”
“What do you mean, it’s too late?”
He pushes off the wall, standing straight.
“Because they’re here,” he says.
I follow his gaze down the tracks where the smoke of a train is coming our way. Everyone gathers in the middle of the square, trying to get the first glimpse of the Lawmen coming with it. Finn steps close and takes my hand. The familiarity of him calms me.
“No matter what happens,” he whispers, “stay close to me.”
The first of the riders appears along the train, followed by a dozen others, all wearing white bands around their biceps, dusty now from the day’s ride. This group of Lawmen follow the same leader who comes with them each month—Torreck. He’s the only man I’ve ever been truly afraid of. He is everything Kev stands for.
The riders gather next to the tracks, a few of them dismounting to examine the train cars. But Torreck just sits on his horse, looking over us like we’re already dead. A black bandana hangs around his neck, moving when a gust of wind picks up. His beard is dark, matching the wide-brimmed hat he always wears. I can’t look at the eyes under the hat for too long. They’re the eyes of a man who shouldn’t be in the position of power that he is.
Torreck dismounts when two men come back from the train. As they talk to him—in voices too low for us to hear—he takes off his gloves, slow and deliberate, stowing them away in his saddlebag.
He brushes his men away with a flick of his hand.
Then he says, “It seems to me you folks came up short on your payment.” He eyes us all, like we’re schoolchildren who need to be punished.
Mr. Wells steps forward from the crowd. He’s the leader of our town. He has been ever since I could remember—most people don’t live long enough to have gray hair.
“We’ve had trouble this month,” he says, wringing his hat between his hands. “But I swear to you, we’ll—”
“You’ll what? ‘Have more next month?’” he mocks. “We’re not stupid, old man.”
Mr. Wells takes another step closer. “Please—”
“We have an agreement,” Torreck says. “You give us coal, and we pay you. The world doesn’t survive on favors.” Torreck’s eyes lift from Mr. Wells, roaming the crowd around him. Nobody speaks up or moves.
Only the wind is brave enough to blow through us.
“But,” Torreck continues, still looking at everyone around him. “I think we can work out a deal. Just this once.”
The older man’s shoulders lower with relief. “We’ll get enough next month, I swear.”
“I have no doubt,” Torreck says. “But you’re still short on your payment this month. We’re not talking about next month, we’re talking about now.”
“But … as I told you, we—”
“I’m not talking about coal,” he says. “There are other things worth just as much, and you seem to have plenty.”
Everyone glances at one another.
Mr. Wells says, “Plenty of what?”
Torreck ignores him and walks up to Axel, standing near the front. I can see him pale, even against his tanned skin. “How old are you, boy?”
His voice is barely loud enough to hear. “Sixteen.”
“Sixteen, eh?” He turns to look at Joshua, a couple rows back. “And you?”
I don’t hear him answer, but I don’t need to.
“Eighteen?” Torreck says, delighted to hear it. “That’s lovely.” He turns and walks back to his men, facing Mr. Wells once more. “I’m going to give you and your people two choices.”
Mr. Wells nods.
“The first choice is for us to burn your town to the ground. Every single building, with people in them or not. I’m sure you heard about what happened in Carton, yes?” Again, he nods. “So, your second choice is to hand over some of your boys here. The Lawmen always need new recruits and laborers of the right age.” Torreck’s smile rips through us. “Consider it payment.”
Finn glances over at me, his eyes filled with worry. He’s a year older than Axel, someone they would take if Mr. Wells agrees to this. But he wouldn’t agree, would he? We take care of each other here. Look out for one another.
When Mr. Wells hesitates, Torreck has a pistol pointed to his head in a flash. It’s big and black like the night. “You better choose right, old man. Give me five of them, and your town gets another chance to live.”
Mr. Wells nods once.
And my whole body goes cold.
Finn is rigid, watching five of Torreck’s men take our friends from the crowd. They take Joshua, who fights them, hitting one man in the nose. They tie his wrists, another pressing him to the ground with a foot between his shoulder blades.
They take the Wright b
rothers, Han and Lee. Their mother screams from the crowd, sobs choking her voice.
One of the men comes closer, eyeing Finn from over the heads of people. I won’t let them take him. I won’t. I let Jack’s reins fall to the ground, ready to fight them if need be.
But before he reaches us, he takes Oliver instead, pulling him from his father’s grasp.
And the last boy they take is Axel.
Finn tenses next to me, watching Torreck pull him from the crowd. I wish I could feel relieved, but I can’t. We’ve known Axel since we were five and he was four. He always liked to tell people that Finn was his twin and not mine.
This shouldn’t be happening. They have no right to take them.
Finn’s hand is suddenly missing from mine, leaving me cold and aware of what he’s about to do. I catch his arm, stopping him.
“Finn don’t.” He looks back at me. “Please,” I whisper.
“I have to.”
He pushes his way through the crowd and I follow him, trying to get him to stop. But it’s too late—Torreck sees him.
“Take me instead,” Finn says, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’m a year older.”
Torreck smiles. “Looks to me like we’ve got a volunteer, boys.” The others laugh.
Finn doesn’t waver, his back straight and his jaw set. “Take me in his place,” he says again.
Torreck surveys Finn. He isn’t stupid; he sees the difference between them. He would’ve been the first one they took if he’d been in front. I don’t realize how fast my heart is pounding until it kicks me forward, out of the crowd and toward Finn. They haven’t gotten to him yet. I can still stop him.
“Finn, please don’t this.” I grab his arm but he’s like a stone. “Please.”
He swallows hard and looks over at me. “I’m sorry, Ave.”
A man grabs his arm and starts pulling him away, but I dig our wooden horse from my pocket and slip it into his. It’s the only thing I can give him.
I shout his name. He’s not trying to fight them because he wants to go. But that can’t stop me. I’ll fight for him to stay. Taking him away from me will tear me in two.
One of Torreck’s men binds his wrists together, like they’re worried he’ll fight.
I can’t stand here and do nothing. I move forward, breaking free from the people who try to hold me back. Someone shouts and my hands are cold and shaking.
Just for an instant, I’m able to push past the men and reach Finn. We press our foreheads together like we used to do when we were little.
Finn whispers, “I promised we would get through this together and we will. We’ll figure something out, we always do.”
There are already tears in my eyes, even when I try to hold them back. “Finn—”
I’m pulled away and thrown backward to the ground. Torreck stands between me and Finn, eyeing us both. I stand, feeling dirt imbedded into the palms of my hands.
“Did you have something to say, girl?” Then he shouts, “Speak up!”
I flinch and catch Finn’s eye again. He’s warning me not to do anything foolish—begging me. With a man with eyes as crazy as Torreck’s, I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t and I have to.
“You don’t have any right to do this.”
“You’re correct about that,” he says, smiling. He steps closer and I match it, keeping the distance between us. “But who’s here to stop me? You?” He looks over the crowd, catching someone’s gaze. “What about you? No? I didn’t think so.”
I don’t say anything because I can’t. He’s right—who can stop him?
“Now that I think about it,” he says, “you just assaulted one of my men, and that’s grounds for arrest.”
Torreck jerks his head in my direction—a signal for his men. They come for me before I know what’s happening.
The only thing able to wake me is Finn’s voice. It rings out through the wind. “Avery, run! Go!”
I turn and run into the crowd, seeing Jack standing where I left him. His ears perk toward me as the men behind me push through, trying to follow. They’re shouting for me to stop. Threatening to shoot if I don’t.
I snatch the reins hanging to the ground and swing myself onto Jack’s back in one smooth motion. He takes off before I even touch his sides. I glance back to look at Finn once more, but there are too many people to pick him out of the crowd.
Torreck’s voice shouts for his men to ride after me, but I know it’s too late for them to catch up. Jack is fast and knows the land. We’re out of the town and headed west, into the Wild, before they can get off a shot.
We ride until we can’t—until I hear nothing but pounding hooves and the wind in my ears.
When we stop, it’s dark.
And I don’t remember anything after that.
5.
Seph
I wake with my cheek pressed to the ground.
My head pounds and my eyes don’t want to open, heavy like the old relics sunken into the earth. Maybe I’ve become one of them. Unable to ever move again. Then the wind brushes my face, telling me I’m alive and need to wake up.
When I finally open them, the gray sky is too bright and I don’t know where I am. Then I hear voices behind me.
I move to touch my head, but my wrists are cuffed together with metal binds. I stare at them for a moment before I remember what happened and can piece together my downfall.
They came for me. I told Cade to leave and he did. The man’s name was Durk. And he killed one of his own to get to me.
I was ready to die, like my father had.
Not this.
Why this?
I push myself up, feeling crashing—pounding—against the inside of my skull, but I won’t let myself shake. I need to stay calm.
But I don’t know if I’m strong enough.
I’m able to get to my knees, though. With my legs tucked under me, I see the ten feet of chain connected to my cuffs. I’m staked to the ground like an animal. I don’t know if I have the strength to stand. The wind is brittle against my bare arms, threatening to push me over and keep me down.
I remember I had nothing except my pistol when they caught me. Cade took everything with him when I told him to leave.
It makes me feel better, knowing he was able to escape.
I wouldn’t want to give them the satisfaction of having me and everything I own. And I definitely don’t want to condemn Cade to a life like those other horses.
Voices rise when they realize I’m awake. I remain kneeling on the ground, staring at the horizon., knowing I’ll never make it where I want to go most.
A man steps in front of me, a pistol at his hip—my pistol.
I’m naked without it.
“Some of us had a bet going whether you would wake up,” he says. “Wyatt hit you damn hard.”
“Apparently not hard enough.”
I lunge forward before he can react. My head is still spinning, but this may be the only chance I get. I’m on my feet, throwing the flat of my palm into his chest to knock him down and flip the pistol from its holster. All in the blink of an eye, I’m standing over him, pointing the gun at his head.
I breathe slowly. I feel the chain hanging from my wrists—they should have cuffed them behind my back.
The others shout. I hear their guns cock and a few circle around behind me.
I’m not going down without a fight.
“Stand down, boys.” Without taking my gun off the man below me, I look up when Durk comes forward. “I thought I made myself clear when it comes to the lives of my men.”
I glance down at the man, whose skin has gone pale as he looks at his boss.
Durk says, “Either you kill him or I kill him, it won’t make a difference.”
To prove his point, Durk takes out his gun and points it at his man. I don’t want to be the cause of another death, even if he might deserve it. I remove my finger from the trigger and toss the pistol on the ground, already missing the weight of my weapon.
> The man scrambles away.
Durk seems to be the only one willing to come close.
“What do you want with me?” I ask.
“I don’t want you,” he says. “Question is, what do I want to do to you? You defied the rules of my town, and that’s not something I take lightly. I can’t have an uprising on my hands. So after we’re done with you, we’re going to drag your body back into town and show them what happens to those who bend the rules.”
His knife sings in the air when he pulls it from its sheath. It’s at least a half foot long. He flips it over in his hand, his eyes never leaving mine. I don’t move. I’m a rock. A stone.
“People like you think they can do anything they want,” he says. “Go wherever they please. Steal whatever they desire.” He circles me, taking his time. When he’s behind me, he whispers in my ear, “You need to understand there’re consequences for people who think they’re above the law.”
The tip of his knife touches my shoulder blade. Then he slashes it down and across my back. I cry out before I can catch myself. I can’t breathe and my fists clench. The only thing I can do is close my eyes and hope for a quick death.
I’m trembling now. I can’t stop it from happening—the pain is too much for me to bear. Behind me, I hear the knife drive into the ground. Durk walks in front of me again and motions one of his men forward.
Drops of blood run down my back, warm and soaking my shirt. My skin is on fire.
“I’m not as heartless as you think I am,” Durk says. He takes out another knife and hands it to the man next to him. “That’s why I’m going to give you a chance to defend yourself.”
“And if I win?”
Durk laughs. “Nobody ever wins against Todd, but you’re welcome to try.” He backs toward his men, leaving my fate in my own hands. But I don’t have my hands, and I don’t have a gun. The man he called Todd is taller than me, with a shaved head and the shadow of a beard and eyes set deep into his skull.
He smiles.
Then rushes me.
I turn and dive for the knife behind me. The hilt points up toward the sky, the blade half-hidden in the earth. My fingers are inches from it when they snap to a stop—the chain too short for me to reach. It’s too late to do anything but roll to the side, avoiding the blade about to slice my neck. I scramble to my feet and back away as much as the chain will allow.