Скачать книгу

rearing over it, coming down with hooves—hooves, it was a horse—even as Maggie rolled out of the way; free, if muddy.

      Maggie was safe.

      Sound came back in a rush, and Elizabeth heard Jordan shouting an order to the man driving the van, and felt him reach for something at his back. A gun? A phone? She couldn’t take the chance. She used her elbows and the back of her head, ignoring the tearing pain of her hair being yanked out long enough to scramble free, falling onto her hands and knees in the muddy grass. She looked up, pushing the tangles of her hair from her eyes, and saw the horse pivot on its hind legs away from the now-downed man and come after Jordan, ignoring her completely.

      “Maggie?” She scrambled forward and gathered her sister to her, then got them both to their feet. “Sweetie, run!”

      Her sister, the knees and butt of her jeans now covered in mud and grass stains, managed to scramble forward and start running, Elizabeth staying just behind her in case she fell. She would carry Maggie, if that’s what it took.

      They’d only managed a few yards when the drumming noise got louder behind them. Elizabeth let herself take one look back, and saw the white horse come up alongside them, slowing down to keep pace with them. Somehow, instinctively, her hand was grabbing at the coarse hairs of the horse’s mane, and pulling herself up onto its back in a move she’d read about in books, but had never done herself before now. The horse’s back was broad, and her legs ached immediately from the effort of staying on, but she managed it, however gracelessly.

      The horse moved forward, reaching Maggie, who had not paused in her flight. Elizabeth put down a hand, and Maggie grabbed it, like they had practiced the move for years, and she hauled her sister up. The horse checked itself midstride until Maggie was safe, clinging to her waist, and then lengthened its stride again.

      And then they were traveling impossibly fast, the drumbeats sounding beneath them, hooves muffled against the ground, leaving Jordan and his companion behind. Elizabeth ducked forward against the thick neck of the horse, pulling Maggie with her and flinching in anticipation of bullets from the gun Jordan might have had. The warm, musty smell of the horse reached her nose, bringing an odd sort of comfort, and then she felt the muscles underneath her bunch up, tensing in anticipation of something….

      Instinct and a distant sense of anticipation made her clench her legs even tighter around the horse’s barrel-shaped ribs, and cling to the thick mane under her fingers, even as Maggie strengthened her grip around her waist and the horse’s ears flicked forward, intent on the fence ahead of them.

      And then the tensed muscles released, and the horse lifted as though, for an instant, they were flying, sheer power taking them over the mesh fence and landing with a surprisingly soft, if jarring, thud of hooves against dirt. Elizabeth barely had time to release a surprised “whoof” of breath before they were out of the open air and into the cool, shaded depths of the woods.

      Within minutes, the sounds of civilization faded, replaced by the occasional burst of birdsong that paused as they passed, and then started up again. The horse’s gallop changed to a steady, almost careful trot, but Elizabeth kept her face down and her hands tight in the horse’s mane, acutely aware of her sister’s arms around her waist. She didn’t dare look up or try to control the horse, for fear of dislodging that precious, precarious cargo, or falling off herself. Her legs were sore from gripping the animal’s sides, and her arms ached from holding on, and her scalp stung from where Jordan had pulled her hair, but all she could think was don’t fall off. Don’t let Maggie fall off.

      Her heartbeat slowed slowly, her breathing less raspy-sounding in her own ears, but the fear remained a constant, expecting any moment to hear Jordan’s voice shouting behind them, the roar of the van as it tried to follow them. But with every stride forward they took, and the lengthening of silence, Elizabeth dared hope that they had made good their escape.

      The trees were thicker together now, and the horse had slowed to a cautious walk, allowing Elizabeth to relax her legs a little, and sit up enough to see where they were going. They were following what looked like a deer path—she didn’t dare twist to look behind her, but it was unlikely anything wider than the horse would be able to follow them. If Jordan and his men came, they would have to do so on foot, and they could not keep up with a horse, even if they managed to get past that fence.

      For the moment, they were free.

      “You okay, baby?” she asked.

      “Yeah.” Her sister’s voice came back, shaken but strong. The arms around her waist gave a reassuring squeeze. “I might throw up once my stomach catches up with us, though.”

      That made Elizabeth laugh a little, the way Maggie intended. Her sister was always there with a joke or tease, no matter how bad things got. It was one of her many gifts.

      The ground sloped downward slightly, and then evened out into a clearing. The horse, tired, or just finally bored with carrying riders, stopped, its head dropping low. The message was clear: end of the trip. Elizabeth felt Maggie slide off, and, once she was certain her sister was safe on the ground, unclenched her fingers from the mane and swung her leg over the horse’s back, sliding carefully down to the ground. The horse stood steady throughout, and she patted it on the neck, feeling a layer of sweat on the surprisingly soft, warm skin. “Thank you.”

      The horse snorted as though it understood, and she stepped away, testing her wobbly legs and trying to hear if there were any sounds of pursuit.

      The only noises were birds twittering and calling in the branches overhead, and the quiet trickle of water somewhere nearby. Maggie, contrary to her threat, was not throwing up. Elizabeth stood still and let out a deep breath. It wasn’t safety, not really, but it was closer than she’d felt in months.

      “Where are we?” Maggie asked, looking around in wonder at the huge trees surrounding them.

      Elizabeth had to stop and think for a moment. They’d ridden their bikes from home, and abandoned them by a middle school in the hopes that someone would take them and muddy the trail. Obviously, that hadn’t worked. They’d walked west from there, the rest of the morning, and had ducked into the flea market to get something to eat when she’d caught sight of Jordan following them. In the mad dash after, she hadn’t been paying too much attention to the surroundings, but…

      “I think it’s a reservoir preserve,” she said. “State land.” If so, that was better than she had hoped for—the treed area would be large enough that they should be able to evade being observed, at least until she figured out their next move. And even if there was a road through it, only state vehicles would be allowed in. Hiding in here would give them a little time to breathe. She didn’t think she had really relaxed since the day before, when the notice from the Elders had come.

      Being summoned before the Elders wasn’t a huge deal—it could have been anything, from wanting to discuss the plans she had submitted six months before to enlarge the bakery she owned, or discussing what would happen to the house she had shared with her parents, now that they were gone. It was too large for only two people, and there were others in the Community who could have used the space. That was all the normal course of events, the sort of thing the Elders would summon her to discuss.

      But she had known, the moment she opened the envelope, that it had been none of those things. She wasn’t gifted the way Maggie was, but she’d had a dream the night before, and the sense of menace had been centered on a white square of paper—the same paper she held in her hands, mere hours later.

      Her parents were dead, victims of the terrible flu that had swept through the Community at the beginning of the winter. Cody—her best friend—was dead, just a week past. One by one, everything, everyone who mattered, had been taken from them. She didn’t know why, but she knew it for a fact; and that Ray, who led the Elders, was at the heart of it. Ray wanted Maggie for himself.

      Her dreams were certain of that. They just didn’t know why.

      “So where did you come from, big guy?” Caught in her memories, Elizabeth barely listened to her sister talking to the horse, until the younger girl let out a

Скачать книгу