“I have an idea, Waverly,” he says.
“Lucas, please don’t! If we stay hidden, maybe they’ll turn back.”
“Maybe they won’t,” he says, his eyes sullen and serious.
He starts to raise his hand in the air and I reach out and grab it with mine. Instantly a bright light flashes before my eyes and I feel like I’m floating in the air.
Has an explosion gone off? No. That’s not it. What is this? What am I seeing? I have heard of out-of-body experiences before, but this is very strange. I can almost feel my physical self standing apart from the group, yet I can’t wave a hand in front of my face. It’s as though I am a spirit hovering around the scene unfolding before me, taking it in from a safe distance. No one can touch me. No one can hear me. In a way, I don’t even exist, yet I also see myself crouched behind the car as though there are two of me: the one hiding from Scarecrow and his men, and this one that feels no fear and cannot be seen.
When I look at her, the version of me that is hiding behind the car, I see Lucas pull his hand away.
“It’ll be okay, Waverly,” he says to her.
I watch her from the short distance, a look of shock and confusion is spread across her face. It’s hard to watch myself, seeing the pain of fear.
Lucas holds his hands up in the air and slowly stands. Scarecrow and his men point their guns at him instantly, and Lucas winces as if he almost expects a flurry of bullets to rip through him. When no gun goes off, he raises his head to look at the raiders standing in front of their trucks and SUVs.
When I look at her…Waverly…me. I hate what I see. Her brown falls around her face and shoulders in tangles as she whispers frantically to Lucas. Her thin, pale arms shake in fear. These last three years have not been kind to her. She’s not very tall, add malnourishment to the mix and she looks sick. As I watch, it seems that her whispers to Lucas go unheard.
Gilbert shakes his head, muttering curses toward Lucas while Ethan sits quietly frozen with white-knuckled fingers holding tightly to his weapon.
“There are more of you rats,” Scarecrow says with a scowl. He holds his gun a little higher, taking aim at Lucas. “Have them show themselves or I’ll split your head open like a rotten fruit.”
Lucas holds out his weaponless hands, trying to calm the lead bandit. “We don’t mean any harm,” he says. “We’re just trying to pass through.”
“I don’t care what you’re passing,” Scarecrow says. “Have your men show themselves or I’ll blow your head off.”
“I assure you,” Lucas says, “we don’t want a fight, but we have you outgunned two-to-one.”
Scarecrow’s eyes narrow at Lucas’ words.
“Now, you can take my word for it and drive away, or you can take your chances and blow my head off.” Lucas starts to lower his hands. “So, why don’t you just play it safe and drive out of here and let us pass through?”
Scarecrow seems to ponder his words for a few seconds. “If your men are so heavily armed, then why are they afraid to show themselves?” He looks back at his men for affirmation, and gets a few nods in response.
“Doesn’t matter to you,” Lucas says. “You’ve got a choice to make. For you and your men’s sake, I think you should turn around and let us pass.”
Scarecrow smiles at this. His teeth are yellow and crooked, many of them are even missing. He doesn’t look much different from a greyskin. “How old are you, boy? Fifteen? Sixteen?”
“Eighteen,” Lucas says confidently.
“Barely a man.” He turns to his men behind him and one or two of them laugh nervously. “I’m going to give you a counter offer. Your men show yourselves, and we might let the rest of them live. Course, we’re going to kill you either way. There are too many rats like you as it is.”
“This is your last chance,” Lucas says.
Scarecrow shakes his head. “No. It was yours.” With barely a squeeze of the trigger, he lets off a round. The bullet goes through Lucas’ forehead and out the back before he can even respond. I try to scream out as his body falls to the ground, but like a spirit, my screams are silent and go unheard.
Another bright, white flash and I find myself sitting next to Lucas again as he is about to raise his hands into the air.
I feel like the air has been sucked out of my lungs. I look up at Lucas and try to tell him to stop, but words barely escape my lips. What did I just see? My legs feel weak, but I want to stand. I want to reach out and grab Lucas by the shirt and pull him down, but gravity holds me with the weight of a boulder.
“It’ll be okay, Waverly,” he says to me as he reaches out into the air.
I feel shock…confusion. What is happening to me? What just happened to me?
Scarecrow and his men point their guns at Lucas as soon as he makes himself known. He ducks his head as if expecting to be shot, but the raiders let him be.
“Lucas,” I say barely above a breath. “Please, just get back down here! We can run. Lucas!”
He doesn’t seem to hear my soft cries. I know in my heart what is about to happen, but something inside of me says that’s impossible.
“There are more of you rats,” I hear Scarecrow say. I can’t see him where I’m sitting, but I know that he raises his gun at Lucas. “Have them show themselves or I’ll split your head open like a rotten fruit.”
“We don’t mean any harm,” Lucas says. “We’re just trying to pass through.”
I know the response from Scarecrow before he even says it…I don’t care what you’re passing. Have your men show themselves or I’ll blow your head off.
Almost as an answer to my thoughts, Scarecrow speaks. “I don’t care what you’re passing,” he says. “Have your men show themselves or I’ll blow your head off.”
The pit in my stomach is growing and it’s all I can do to keep down what little food I have inside me. I look at the other two across from me. Ethan holds to his weapon tightly as Gilbert mutters to himself in anger.
“I assure you,” Lucas says, “we don’t want a fight, but we have you outgunned two-to-one.”
The words hit me like a lightening bolt. What is he thinking? None of us have any guns. All we have are little sharp weapons in hopes that they will help us get away from rogue greyskins. We couldn’t possibly take on the raiders. We’d be dead before the fight even started.
“Now, you can take my word for it and drive away,” Lucas says, “or you can take your chances and blow my head off.” He starts to lower his hands, probably to show Scarecrow his confidence. “So, why don’t you just play it safe and drive out of here and let us pass through?”
No, no, no, I think to myself. I want to reach out to Lucas and pull him down, but won’t the bullets just tear through the both of us? I reach for the silver chain around my neck and feel for the diamond ring at the end.
There is a brief silence before Scarecrow answers Lucas. “If your men are so heavily armed, then why are they afraid to show themselves?”
“Doesn’t matter to you,” Lucas says. “You’ve got a choice to make. For you and your men’s sake, I think you should turn around and let us pass.”
“How old are you, boy? Fifteen? Sixteen?”
Eighteen.
“Eighteen,” Lucas says.
“Barely a man,” Scarecrow answers. “I’m going to give you a counter offer. Your men show yourselves, and we might let the rest of them live. Course, we’re going to kill you either way. There are too many rats like you as it is.”