The Outliers
Page 36

Heavy footsteps.
Not my mother’s footsteps.
“Yes. YOU,” answered a deep throaty male voice.
I froze for a moment then realized if I was going to escape this time I was going to have to act fast. I made a leap toward the door but I wasn’t quick enough. A large hand came around my chest and another covered my nose and mouth to muffle my scream before it even had a chance to leave my lips.
“Shhhh, I have your whore of a mother, and it’s up to you whether she remains alive or not.” Richard whispered bitterly into my ear. He smelled just as I remembered. Like whiskey and arrogance. “I locked all of the doors of this building from the outside. If you so much as try and draw attention to yourself, even one little squeak of a noise and I’ll set this entire place ablaze with every single of those heathens trapped inside.” He showed me a metal lighter, flicking it open and setting the flame to high so I could see he was serious about carrying through with his threat.
I felt helpless. Panicked.
My heart was beating rapidly and all I could think about was protecting Finn and my baby.
There was nothing I could do but comply. And as he dragged me out into the night I thought he tripped over something but I was wrong. He’d kicked over something. That something was a gas can.
With a flick of his wrist, he sent the lighter and the tiny flame cascading into the gas can causing it to immediately erupt in a fire ball which was anything but tiny.
I tried to get to them. To move my limbs but they wouldn’t cooperate. I was breathing erratically, taking in more and more of whatever he had pressed into his palm covering my nose and mouth.
I felt nauseated. The sound of Richard callous laugh surrounded me as he dragged me further and further away from the library. The storm hadn’t yet brought the rain but the wind spread the flames quickly and just as my vision started to blur I managed to make out the last sight I ever wanted to see.
The roof of the library caved in…and collapsed.
 
 
Chapter 24
 
 
Finn
 
 
It all happened so fast. It sounded like an explosion then the roof of the storage room was collapsing.
Sawyer.
I raced toward the storage room with Critter while Miller attempted to open the front door which turned out to be locked from the outside. Together, Josh and Miller managed to ram through it just enough to get everyone out. The pouring rain had put out the fire so Critter and I, with burning palms, pushed aside the fallen roof to search for Sawyer and her mother.
It wasn’t until we’d moved the last beam when we realized…they weren’t there.
One glance at one another was all it took for us to be on the same page.
Richard.
 
 
Chapter 25
 
 
Sawyer
 
 
All I heard was crickets. The wind slapped wet leaves and mud against my face. It was raining lightly but the wind was blowing so hard each drop of water stung against my skin. It smelled like sulfur and decay.
I tried to peel my eyes open but they wouldn’t comply. I was sitting in a few inches of water. My shorts were completely soaked through.
Finn.
My family. My friends.
The library. The roof collapsing.
It sobered me up and pulled me from the haze I was in. I jolted awake. My eyes sprung open, only to find myself bound at the wrists behind a tree at my back.
I was terrified that I lost all the people that meant most me the world. The only thing that kept me from shaking uncontrollably with fear—the only thing that kept me sucking in my next breath, was the life growing inside of me.
I felt sick to my stomach. Everything ached. My body sat heavy upon my bones as if I were carrying around another pile of flesh and muscle on the outside of mine. Like gravity was working overtime to pull me into the center of the earth.
It was difficult to lift my arms. My eyes wouldn’t open fully and I was forced to peer out into the darkness of this world through tiny slits. It must have been the effects of whatever it was that Richard had sedated me with.
Everything hurt. My body, my heart, my spirit.
Then I heard a voice and at first, I was imagining things, but her voice was not only clear, it was calm.
And it belonged to my mother.
“When you were growing up I saw so much of myself reflected in your eyes. It scared me. A part of me wished you were complacent. Obedient. A person who stood in line and waited their turn and did what they were told and were happy that way. But every once in a while, I caught a glimpse of fire in your eyes. Of rebellion. Of questions, greater than the answers the church was giving you. A look that told me you were no more meant for that life than I was. But an even bigger part of me was proud, relieved. And I knew you couldn’t stay there. That fire in your along with Richard’s controlling and abusive ways…it was never going to end well.” She pressed her lips together and looked up at the sky. “I was always surprised you hadn’t run away earlier. And disappointed in a way.”
“I couldn’t leave you.”
She shook her head. “Which makes worse. You should of.”
“No. Besides, you said if I did that Richard threatened to kill you.”
My mother nodded. “He would have. But none of that mattered. You were all that mattered. You are all that matters now.”
I dropped my hands to my stomach. “No. I’m not all that matters now.”
My chest tightened at the look of pain on my mother’s face. I resolve stay strong for her. To push the turmoil inside of me down and be there for both my child and my mother.
“I failed you,” she said, the wind sent her words barreling toward me, hitting me right in the gut.
“You didn’t! You were put in a situation no one could ever imagine themselves in. I couldn’t begin to imagine having to make the choices you were faced with. I understand now. I understand why you did everything and I’m the one who’s sorry. For ever doubting you. And besides, you’re right. We are a lot alike.”
“Maybe, did I ever tell you the story of how you got your name?” My mother asked. She was trying to distract me from the rising water. I needed it because the endless tugging on my restraints was getting me nowhere.
The water was rising quicker and quicker. It is only about It was only a matter of time before it was over our heads.