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CHAPTER FOUR
REN
* * * * * *
2000
EVERYTHING I HAD in the world now fit into two cargo pants pockets and an empty backpack.
I had no food or water.
I had no tent or blanket, no spare clothes, no medicine, no toothbrush or soap.
I’d done a terrible job at stashing away important things I’d need for this journey and regretted my stupidity on not pla
I’d done my best to keep us semi-clean by washing in the river we followed by day, and tried my hardest to keep us fed by hunting rats and rabbits and cooking them over the smallest fire I could by night.
Della screamed the first time I bashed in the head of a rabbit caught in my snare and ski
She’d cried and cried herself into a stupor until her gasps and hiccups trailed into sleep, and I’d woken her a few hours later with stringy overcooked meat.
Her golden curls had turned brassy with grease. Her pudgy pink cheeks white and sallow.
I wasn’t used to seeing health slip so quickly from someone I saw every day. The kids in the barn all looked like filthy skeletons with wiry muscles and bleakness in their gaze.
No one changed inside that place once they’d given up hope and accepted their new fate. Della, on the other hand, switched from inquisitive infant to cranky monster, and my hate billowed bigger every day, swarming in size until I rubbed at my ribs, trying to dislodge the suffocating pressure whenever I looked at her.
If she cried, my hands curled to shut her up permanently. If she shat my t-shirt, my gag reflex begged to vomit all over her. If she crawled from the backpack while I was sleeping and burrowed into my side, my desire to shove her away was so strong I had to leap to my feet and back away to avoid hurting her the way I wanted.
I didn’t want this.
I didn’t want her.
I wanted my freedom, and she was just another form of imprisonment.
Sighing heavily, I once again rubbed at the ball of loathing wrapped around my throat and forced myself to relax. I was hungry enough without burning through more precious energy.
Ten days.
I’d made it ten days.
I could make it ten more—even with a no longer fat baby and an ever-increasing need to rest, eat something decent, and change into cleaner clothes.
Sitting in the shade of a massive oak tree, I sca
One, on Della as she lay on her back, twirling her dirty blue ribbon while wriggling in fallen acorns; two, on our surroundings and any sudden motions or noises, and three, on the measly tools in front of me.
I’d hoped by spreading out my worldly possessions, I would see an alternative for their use or have an epiphany on how to make life better. How to actually survive rather than continue what we were doing and slowly dying day by day.
My fingers stroked the nicked and tarnished blade that I’d stolen from the sheering shed last season. Mclary had whipped all of us for its disappearance, but no one knew I’d taken it, and I’d buried my guilt deep enough to justify everyone being punished on my behalf.
Along with a knife, I had a ball of baling twine, an oversize sewing needle meant for repairing sacking and tarp, a hay net that had come in handy making small animal snares, and a tin cup that had been assigned to me to drink from the well on the farm.
My one set of cargo pants, faded green t-shirt, and holey sneakers were days away from falling apart and covered in filth from living in the wilderness. And Della’s pink onesie was now a disgusting shade of putrid brown from diaper mishaps, mud, and pathetic attempts to rinse in the river.
Like I said, utterly measly and totally lacking.
I should’ve grabbed a tarp at least for shelter, a blanket from my bed, cutlery, painkillers—not that I had access to those—and so many other handy things I missed.
The only thing we had on our side was the weather.
The temperature had stayed muggy and warm since leaving Mclary’s and a small layering of leaves at night was enough to stay comfortable. With the river as our guide, we might be hungry, but we were never dehydrated, which I suppose was something to be thankful for.
* * * * *
I’d lost count of the days and nights.
I’d forgotten how long I’d lugged a baby through forest and farmland, putting as much distance between me and the Mclary’s farm as I could.
All I knew was I needed something other than fish and rabbit to curb my ravenous appetite. I needed a brush to clean the fur from my teeth. I needed clothes that didn’t reek. I needed a break from the girl making my life a living hell.
When I’d first run from Mclary, I shouldn’t have entered the forest for fear of getting lost or dying, but thanks to my will to survive and basic education, I’d excelled better than I hoped. I didn’t know what direction I travelled in most of the time, and I didn’t know where I was going, but each day was a success if we ate, drank, and slept in safety.
Now, I was about to leave the sanctuary of the wilderness and do something else I probably shouldn’t do. In fact, something I most definitely shouldn’t do in my current stinky state with a listless baby who slept more often than cried these days.
If I’d survived better, I wouldn’t need to do this.
If I didn’t have an unwanted passenger, I wouldn’t have to do this.
Cursing Della all over again, I gritted my teeth and took the first step from twigs and branches, trading it for paint and concrete.
Nothing happened. No one noticed. No bullet lodged in my skull.
I waited, twitching like a deer, sniffing the air, testing the waters.
When the night sky stayed silent and nothing suspicious moved, I gathered my bravery and slunk farther from the treeline.
Using the cover of darkness, I sneaked closer toward the small township in the distance.
Just like I didn’t know where I was, I didn’t know the exact time, but most houses were dark, no cars on the road, no people or noise or life.
The perfect time to steal the supplies I needed and then split.
Hoisting the backpack further up my shoulders, I stiffened, waiting for Della to make a sound. She’d been quiet all afternoon in her dirty carrier, and it was past time to eat.
Normally, by now, she’d grizzle and squirm enough to make me give up travel for the day and find somewhere to sleep.
Tonight, she didn’t make a peep.
That ought to have relaxed tight muscles instead of digging my worry deeper.
I still hadn’t forgiven her for making my escape so hard, but I’d lasted this long, and I’d fought too hard to ensure she lasted, too.
She owed me.
I didn’t talk to her often, but when I did, I always earned a sunshine smile or serious stare. I supposed this would be a good moment to speak kindly, to reassure both her and myself that we wouldn’t get caught and would be better equipped once this visit was over.
“Don’t worry, Della Mclary. I’ll get you something yummy to eat tonight.” I patted where her butt would be and strode onward.
I didn’t focus on how much lighter she was these days or how hard ru
Sticking to the shadows, I stalked through suburbia. Pretty, well-kept houses with tidy lawns and painted garden furniture—so unlike the paint-peeling unkemptness of the farmhouse—welcomed me in silver moonlight.