“Atticus,” Thais said again; she coiled her fingers around the back of my neck.
But there was no time for anything right now except getting out of the crossfire, and so I picked Thais up into my arms, and I zigzagged through the camp, ducking behind trees and trucks and carriages without horses, past dozens of gypsies with shotguns and handguns and rifles moving aggressively in the opposite direction toward those raiding the camp. When I stopped behind another truck, and looked back to gauge the situation, to figure out how in the hell to get us out of it, I saw Ossie fall. And I saw Edith fall after him. I gripped Thais even tighter and turned my back away from the scene, hoping she didn’t see what had happened.
“KILL THE BROWNS! KILL ALL THE BROWNS! AND ROUND UP THE PALES!”
I froze again, only this time the voice I’d heard remained stuck in my head; the voice, not the spray of bullets, was keeping me grounded.
“Marion…” I said, my voice and my mind working against the other—I hadn’t meant to say it aloud.
Lexington City raiders had come. They had finally come. But had Marion found us? Did he know Thais and I were part of the camp?
I wasn’t going to hang around to find out.
“We have to go,” I told Thais, and finally looked down at her. “It’s Marion’s party; we have to get out of here. Listen to me”—I grabbed her hand, looked into her eyes intently—“we have to make a run for it before he sees us. I want you to hold my hand and don’t let go—”
“Atticus…I can’t run.” Her voice was weak; the look in her eyes, tired, sickly.
My gaze fell downward until I saw the dark crimson stain on the midsection of her blouse.
I sucked in a sharp breath; my hand, the one holding hers, raised involuntarily in front of my face, covered in blood. “Thais…No…” No. No, no, no, no, no…
Salt and bile choked me; I didn’t know what to do. Back and forth my eyes darted, from Thais and to Marion, Thais, Marion. Thais was going nowhere, but Marion was getting closer.
Rat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat!
Another horse tore its way past; children ran behind it, screaming; in the corner of my eye I saw one child fall, face-down into the dirt. My hands shook uncontrollably; the salt and bile rose up in my throat; the blood pumped through my head like a goddamned hammer, beating and beating and thrashing. Run, you fucking idiot! RUUUUN!
I scooped Thais into my arms and took off faster than the horse that had just zipped past; I could feel Thais’ blood, warm and sticky, seeping into my clothes, staining my hands. I could feel my heart breaking, feel not only her life slipping away, but mine, too, deeper and deeper and deeper into the cold, dark ground beneath the soles of my shoes as they battered the earth in my haste.
Low-lining tree limbs snapped at my face as I ran through the woods and over uneven terrain that tried to bring me down. I stumbled, my shoe catching underneath a root, but I didn’t fall, and no way in hell would I drop Thais. Gunfire and screams sounded all around me with terrifying persistence; the smell of smoke filled the air, and I could hear the fires blazing, crawling over the carriages and the tents, the wood cracking, and then collapsing.
I kept running. I ran long after I couldn’t anymore, long after my heart threatened to give up on me, and my lungs starved for breath, and the stitches of my injuries broke apart and bled again. I ran, with Thais in my arms, long after I could no longer see her breathing, after her eyes failed to open and close anymore, because I was afraid that if I stopped, if I took the time to see I had lost her, that it would be true. I was afraid that if I gave in to that reality, then it would be real.
I ran. And I ran. Through the forest and away from the lake, down a highway littered with the rusted skeletons of cars. And through a vast field that spread out in every direction with nothing in the distance but blue sky on green.
I ran.
And I ran.
And then a single shot rang out, echoing over the field like ripples over water, and I fell when the bullet pierced my back.
70
ATTICUS & (THAIS)
Thais…
Thais…
Thais…Love…Where are you?
Were the words leaving my lips? Something prickled my face; something wet soaked through my clothes. Everything was black. I could hear a noise far off, like boots shuffling through grass, but why was everything so black? Why can’t I open my eyes? I heard muffled voices, two, one man and one woman; they were getting closer, but I still couldn’t open my eyes. And then once I felt the excruciating pain move through my back, I clenched my eyes tighter in response to it, and I knew then why I couldn’t open them. The sound, and the reality of the moment, rushed back into my mind with the pain that incapacitated me. “Ahh!” Within the blackness I saw silver streaks tearing through my vision. And then the blackness faded, and then I saw the bright blue of the sky blink on above me, and the crawling black branches of a tree all blur into focus when my eyelids finally broke apart.
“Thais…” Every word, every movement sent lightning through my body. Sweat drenched my face, and my neck, and my clothes.
But Thais didn’t answer. And I couldn’t see where she was. I tried to roll onto my side, but the pain pushed me back down; my face contorted, my arms went in a backward motion, instinctively looking to put pressure on the wound, but I couldn’t reach it; I couldn’t even tell where it was because it felt like it was everywhere. I tried again to roll over, determined to find her, but the pain was too great and all I could see was the sky and the tree and the tall grass prickling my face, and Marion and the dark-haired defiant girl I had assigned as Marion’s pupil, coming toward me.
The crunching of grass beneath Marion’s boots got louder. I closed my eyes again—I knew it was all over.
“It’s good to see you again, my friend,” Marion said, his tanned, leathery face smiling down at me with sickening delight.
Marion crouched.
“You know,” he went on, “I actually stopped looking for you about a month ago. Thought surely you were dead by now”—(My eyes followed the defiant girl as she went off by herself; I didn’t care about Marion’s monologue, I cared about where Thais was, and I knew that was where the girl was heading)—“But lo’ and fucking behold, there I was shooting an old man in the face at that camp, and I saw someone running.” Marion cocked his eyebrows thoughtfully, and with sarcasm. “Thing was, the person I saw running looked so fucking familiar, that even from far away I knew it was you.”
“Go fuck yourself,” I said, and my face contorted as I paid the price for the effort.
Marion smiled. And then he shrugged.