Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
I nodded in agreement because what that likely meant was that not only had the power and generators failed, but guards had deserted their posts. “Any word at all from local officials around here?”
“Nope. Radio silence. Even the officers who live in town are home taking care of their own.”
“Mr. Cramer—”
“Tim.”
“Tim. The two escaped convicts are back that way, likely gravely injured if not—”
“I’ll send word that they need to be picked up.” He gave me a resolute nod. “I’m grateful we didn’t have to contend with more than that. They were armed and headed this way.”
I glanced back the way we’d come. “We’ll need to backtrack to collect our gear.” As much as I didn’t want to do that, I wasn’t willing to give up the precious possessions we had.
“Stay put,” Tim said. “I’ll use the walkie-talkie and have a couple of the kids bike your things to you. Where’d you leave it?”
“I appreciate that.”
I described where our packs could be found and Tim gave me a fist bump. “You did us a solid and we’re grateful to you.”
I mustered a tired smile. The adrenaline was leaving my body and taking my energy with it. Even so, we’d need to get back on the road. Despite that I wouldn’t want to live through the terrifying, precarious moments on that runaway buggy as I fought for my life, because of the experience, we now had a horse and a firearm. And being in possession of a gun—especially—was damn lucky because no one was going to be willingly parting with any right now.
twenty-four
Emily
I was still attempting to come to terms with what we’d just experienced as we’d careened through a small town on runaway horses. And now Charlie and I were collapsed in the narrow compartment that featured one bench seat while Tuck assumed the reins.
Only a few days before, heck, maybe the day before, I’d have preferred it. Now I felt annoyed and antsy sitting in the buggy with Charlie when what I really wanted to do was climb onto the seat next to Tuck and talk about what had happened. Charlie seemed intent on telling the tale from his perspective again and again, droning on about how he thought he was going to die, his life flashing in front of him, all the good he’d done for the world, and the knowledge that if he died, he’d leave behind dozens of films and television cameos that would bring joy to the world for generations to come.
He wasn’t necessarily wrong. Art did bring joy, movies and television shows provided necessary distraction and comfort too. Families gathered to watch them, and positive messages were relayed through stories. I got all that, and maybe I’d have said something similar a few weeks before about what I hoped my legacy would be. But now? Now I was confused and off-kilter, all my priorities shifted and rearranged so that I didn’t remember exactly the order they’d been in and why. And Charlie… Charlie still seemed unfazed by the things he’d seen around him. If he loved stories so much, why was his the only one that seemed to move him?
There was something else floating around the corners of my mind, but I was too exhausted to delve into my vague thoughts and foggy feelings. And who even knew if all the stress hormones and surges of adrenaline that had released earlier had fried a few synapses.
But when Charlie fell asleep midsentence a few minutes later, I got up quietly and opened the small door with a nervous glance backward. When I saw that Charlie hadn’t moved, a snore rattling from his open mouth, I climbed around the slow-moving buggy and then plopped in the seat next to Tuck.
He looked over at me, his expression mildly surprised for a moment before he raised a brow. “I thought you’d prefer to be chauffeured.”
“I am being chauffeured. I’m just sitting in the front seat. Unless you want to hand me the wheel?” I nodded to the reins in his hand.
“Nah, I got it. Couldn’t nap?”
“I didn’t even try. I’m wired.”
“I’m not surprised.” He gave me another side-glance. “You really should be proud, Emily. You were brave. Amazing, actually.”
“If I knew all I had to do was chase down a speeding buggy and then hang off a horse for a few death-defying moments to win your approval, I’d have done that at the start and saved us a lot of bickering.” I elbowed him gently.
“Ha. I prefer the bickering over the death-defying stunts, but…we worked together when we needed to.”
Warmth traveled along my skin. Why did Tuck’s approval make me feel so damn glow-y inside? All the applause, all the accolades, and at the moment, I wasn’t sure if any of that had felt much better. Which was concerning, honestly, but…another of those vague thoughts I simply wasn’t going to deal with now.