Eliza is fussing. I offer her my breast and that seems to calm her and I feel better too. The walls of the armory mute the terrible sounds outside. It does seem that the cries and shouts are abating, which heartens me. The smoke smell is filtered by some material in the vents near the ceiling, so I have no idea whether the burning continues. It’s impossible for me to measure time in this space but I’d guess we’ve been in here for several hours. I’m half conscious when a distant pounding on the external door stirs me. My heart skips. I wrap Eliza in blankets and tuck her behind some barrels. If something happens to me, perhaps a friend will find her and provide protection. I especially hope Felicia is alright. She’d make a great foster mother.
I cautiously approach the door and peek through a tiny glass hole. Relief flows through my veins. It’s Theo. I crack open the door — a terrible smell of smoke and something else, burnt flesh, perhaps, assaults me. My mouth opens but no words come. I’m terrified for the very first time.
Theo looks horrible — his face a montage of ash, sweat, and blood. His left eye socket is swollen. “Amy, get Liza. We’ve got to go.” His voice is raspy and shrill but very controlled. His bravado is gone, replaced by the true, brave Theo I’ve always known lurking below the surface.
I rush back into the armory to fetch Eliza. I kneel down by the barrel and search her blankets. She’s gone. My terror is now heightened by panic. My vision blurs and I swear I’m going pass out. Instead, motherly instinct takes charge and I begin calling her name while frantically searching the space. Certainly, she crawled away and must be hiding says the strong mother inside me. I look down the room to see light that shouldn’t be there and my very core freezes. The instinctual mother vanishes and I’m nothing more than a frightened little girl.
The door to the corridor leading to the house is ajar. An eerie, flickering, snot-green glow mocks me from behind it. I run forward, barely noticing Theo beside me. Theo throws the door open and my world completely dissolves. The corridor no longer leads to the house, because my family’s home is completely gone, replaced by a pile of sticks and smoldering ashes. I scream Eliza’s name and then the scene vanishes into a void that seems endless and hopeless. I don’t want to leave.
“Wake up Marksman, I mean, Amy.” Bets hovers over me looking ragged. Her hair hangs in greasy strands in her face. Her hunting cloak is covered in blood stains, mostly not her own I suppose. I jump up and begin searching frantically. “You found Eliza, right? Tell me that you found her.”
Bets looks genuinely concerned. In a gentle voice, she says, “Amy, no we didn’t find her. If we’d stayed to search much longer, we’d all be dead. I’m pretty sure they took her.” She spits into the grass.
My panic returns. “We’ve got to go back. She’s in the rubble — I know it.”
“No, Amy, she’s not. Theo, Samuel, and I searched the armory and the immediate area. No sign of her. If you ask me, I think those people and things were after you and your kid. Once they got what they wanted, they began to clear out.”
“Where are we? If you won’t go with me, I’ll go alone.”
Bets’ hard-ass persona returns. “First, we’re safe Marksman. And second, you’re not going anywhere. You’re not gonna do your kid any favors getting killed or kidnapped. Theo told me to watch you and that’s what I’m doing. Sit down.”
I try to stand. Bets pushes me down, fairly gently. Given that I have no bearings, I’d have no idea how to get back to town. Bets hands me a jar of some shine, which I sip with shaky hands. I feel as if I’m going to burst. “Bets, what’s happening?”
“The moon went dark. The town was sacked by some very organized marauders. The raiders were real assholes and burnt the west-side to the ground. They only killed a few folks — people that were in their way. They did steal a few young women — the Killin girls, the Bences, and the Mitchells. If we don’t get the girls back, they’ll likely get sold into the slave trade. Samuel has sent some trackers to find your baby and the girls and rescue them if possible. I’d say there were fifty attackers, most on horses with torches and some nice weapons. The attack was clearly directed on your compound and the armory. We thought they wanted the weapons. Instead they took your girl. Puzzling.”
“This has to be related to the disappearance of my father and Wenn. I just don’t understand. What about the rest of the townspeople?”
“Most opted to return to their homes if the houses were still there. A few folks, including those that lost their houses, have gone over to Millsboro. Millsboro sent a small squad of militia to aid us. Too little, too late, I’m afraid. Marksman, you have to know something about why they’re after you. Do you think it has something to do with what your father and Wenn did when they left town? Maybe an unpaid debt or a grudge?”
I’m too exhausted to be angry. “I’ve told you all a thousand times. My men were taken by force. They did not leave me and the baby intentionally.”
Bets rolls her eyes and takes a long draught from her water flask. “It’d be easier if you accepted the fact that they left you for profit and paid the price. Now we’re paying the price.” She throws her knife at a tree. It sticks in knot.
“Where’s Theo?”
“Theo, Samuel, and English are at the perimeter of the town searching for any activity. We’re still sworn to protect our citizens. They’re still there. And you’re here. Reality is, we can’t let you go back if you’re the danger.”
“So, I’m an outcast?”
“Maybe. Try to get some rest. Theo’ll be back soon and we’ll decide what our next steps should be.”
Hours pass. Bets gives me some jerky and unlevened bread, which I nibble and then promptly throw up. I sip a little water, curl into a ball, and recede into hell. I never thought of myself as a weak person. However, I can’t seem to find any strength inside. My mind is jumbling with violent, incoherent images — bodies, blood, brown stains, wild eyes, and, most strangely, the wicked grin of an unknown woman.
The thrum of Theo’s voice lifts me from my trough of despair. “Amy, honey, please wake up. We got to get moving.” My vision is blurred but it’s still clear enough to see that Theo’s completely spent. One thick hand is on my wrist and the other is bracing the small of my back. And I’m on the back of a horse, holding on with desperation. Consciousness fades again.
Chapter 48 – Extinguished
Oh damn. I’m having one of those dreams where I know I’m dreaming but unable to wake up.
I look down at my youthful, sixteen-year-old hands and realize that this is the terrible day all over again. I’m in the gardens working on a compost pile. As I turn the mass of leaves, steam rises into the sky. I always enjoyed this work, taking something so potentially vile — meats scraps, manure, straw, rotten fruit — and making it into rich, sweet-smelling, functional soil. The green creatures stir in the small wood plot beyond the meadow. They gesture to me. I put down my pitchfork and walk toward them. The little ones have never acted this way before. They’re agitated by something.