FERN

The man rumbled a laugh. "We win! Tell men by dock to leave guns and come forward with hands up."

Tex's brow furrowed, and he glanced over at Merle and Cecil. The moment he saw the shotguns, his head snapped toward me, and my Tex disappeared. The other Tex stood frozen as storm clouds gathered around him. Darkening, just as they had that day in camp. He'd been a twister then, but this was more than that. Now, he was a hurricane moving slow over a hot ocean. His lips pursed, jaw tensed. He stared at me, then through me as gears turned across his expression. "Let the girl go first."

It took a moment for his words to register, and when they did, every part of my soul rebelled against them. No. I wouldn't leave him behind. I wouldn't run into the woods to wander and remember his face, every smile he'd ever worn, knowing I'd abandoned him. "I won't—"

"Fern!" he snapped, voice sharp, the same harsh tone he used with his men. Those fiery eyes glued onto his target, and his finger twitched against the trigger. "Let her go, and we'll surrender."

The man's attention centered on me as an open smile stretched his face. "Ah, I understand. Pretty girls, they have way of taking man's balls."

Laughter echoed from inside the building.

"You're outnumbered." Tex's voice was gravel, and the knot at the corner of his jaw jumped as if he had to chew the rocks before he could spit them out. "You're outgunned, and I've got an army of men with a clear shot on your head." He lifted his gun higher, punctuating his words. He had a clear shot, and he looked dying to take it.

"But I have pretty girl." The man was almost boisterous as he said it, and if it weren't for our situation, I'd have considered him downright jolly. Like Santa. If Santa lost his job and became a Russian pirate. "You lose. I give you ten seconds to put down guns, or we shoot poor, pretty girl."

The barrel of the gun pressed harder. November air wrapped around me, slid inside my lungs, hardened to ice, weighing me down for a faster descent. It was my turn to fall.

"One."

Tex's eyes shot to me, wide and wild, reminding me of the day Daddy's stud horse went mad. He'd kicked three workers and killed a goat before they managed to tranquilize him. But they had, in the end. They'd gotten him down. I didn't want that. I didn't want him to give up his gun. I didn't want him defenseless, all because he was trying to protect me. "Keep the guns," I said, imploring.

I could handle it being my turn to die. I'd been a ghost for three years. But the world needed him. They needed his group. They needed good people to help, and I couldn't let him throw it all away to save a girl that'd already exceeded her time.

"Two."

Tex sneered and shook the gun. "She's innocent!"

"Three. Four. Five. Six."

"Okay!" Tex roared.

"Don't!" I shouted.

He didn't listen. He didn't look at me. He released the trigger and extended the gun out to one side, his other hand stretching as if he needed balance to lower it to the deck.

"Well, son of a bitch," Cecil murmured. He set down his rifle and kicked it across the planks, and Merle did the same.

I lifted my arms, only just acknowledging the bow cemented inside my fist, the arrow pinned in place, ready to be drawn.

A stream of Russian echoed from somewhere deep inside the man's stomach, and more laughter erupted behind me. Judging by his girth, he hadn't missed any meals. The only people not missing meals were active members of The Greater Good. He could turn us in. Officials could already be on their way, and that was worse than a quick death by a bullet. Would they force us to work beside the chemicals, rotting as if we'd already been buried? I wouldn't do it, and I knew, neither would Tex. Why did he give up his gun? It wouldn't save me. It just condemned him and his men to join.

Never take a shot you don't have, Daddy's voice echoed.

I had a shot.

If I fired my bow, they'd shoot me. If they shot me, Tex would lose his disadvantage. He'd have a chance. The men would have a chance, and maybe all his talk of war would pay off. There was a small possibility that they could get it back. The Earth. Humanity.

"Darlin'." It was a warning, as if he'd looked inside my head and read my every thought.

I drew back my bow.

The man's brows lifted, and he laughed. "Pretty girl have bigger balls than men."

The barrel of the gun dug harder against my spine.

"Wait!" Tex lifted his hands higher, as if it were his surrender that could fix it. "Darlin', stop!"

"It was harvest season," I said, and I wasn't sure why. The words poured from my lungs, releasing into the atmosphere. The memories knew I was about to die, and they refused to come with me. "Daddy and John were working in the field. Mama and I were hanging the wash." I saw my target, right between his ribs, and my aim was steady despite the tremble in my soul. "Trucks started up the road, and Daddy ran to warn the people hiding in the barn."

"Fern." Tex's voice was quieter. "Please...put the bow down."

"I'll never forget the way they sounded, all screaming at once like that. Or the way they looked, sprinting across the field. The way they dropped when the bullets hit them. The kids...." I squeezed my eyes shut, seeing the images burned into my mind. So many people. Good people. Innocent people. Deaths pointless. The cold thickened, deepened, slithering around me like a snake intent on its meal.

I opened my lids and locked eyes with the man as if I could make him see it too. Make him look at what their initiative did. Make him feel what it was like on the dirt floor of progress.

"Mama was with me. She was with me, and we were going to make it into the woods." My voice rattled inside my chest. "We were going to follow Daddy's escape plan together." I pulled the bow tighter and clenched my jaw. "But they gunned her down, too. They gunned down a woman who worked her fingers to blisters taking care of strangers. Gluttonous, brainwashed men treated her like game! Men like you!" My throat burned as the words ripped out of me.

"Darlin'..."

"My daddy put this bow in my hand!" I roared. "I'd rather die than put this bow down! I've lived this day before. I've lived it every day after. But, by God, I'll end this one different. I'll go where they went. I'll take you with me. And, for once, all the good people won't die!"

A charged silence settled, and all the hair on my arms stood on end. It was time, and there was so much I hadn't done. So much I wanted to try. I looked at Tex, sunk into the sight of him like a final embrace.

The two versions of him seemed to battle for control. One begging, the other demanding, both equally horrified. I wished he'd smile for me, just one last time. But the cold had chased his warmth away, and all I had to take with me were memories of what little time I'd basked in it.

"Wait," the man rumbled, pulling my attention back to him. He lifted his hands, showed me his gun, then slid it back into the waist band of his trousers. Careful. Slow. "Is okay. We are not bad men. We are protecting people, just as you said." He continued in Russian, voice projecting toward the still opened doorway.

The bowstring dug into my fingers. The barrel of the gun left my back, and a look over showed Merle and Cecil's doing the same. The way the guns retreated into the wall reminded me of a cat's paw giving up on the mouse. Was that what was happening? I couldn't dare to relax, to breathe and believe that it could all be that easy. Maybe this was what heaven was really like. They'd shot me, and now I was here, reliving the moment with the outcome I'd have wished to have.

"Ship is busy because ship is hiding place. Like Barn in story."

Tex took a guarded step toward me and held out a hand. "Get away from the wall."

I lowered the bow, just an inch, replaying the man's statement, absorbing it. He was hiding people. There were people on the ship. The ship we wanted to steal.

"Go ahead. You take. Is good."

I didn't have time to process who he was speaking to or what he meant before Tex yanked me into his arms and caged me against him. His breaths were harsh, his chest moving even harsher beneath my cheek. "Goddamnit, Darlin'," he hissed, but the way his big hand cupped my head sweetened his rage. His arms were a vice, blocking out the world, and I sunk into him, allowing that warmth to chase away all the images I'd allowed to come forward.

"They call me Captain." The man snorted. "I let them. Is good for business. Is reason officials don't put someone else in charge. They remember me from childhood. I am nostalgia now, part of pirate adventure experience."

I tried to pull back to see his face, to gage his honesty, but Tex wouldn't budge. He locked his arms and pressed me tighter, as if I were some rowdy child that he'd only just gotten under control.

"People I like, they call me Sergio. Pretty girl may call me Sergio. You, I still decide. Come sit. We will talk. Maybe we can come to understanding."