Blood Red Road

done the same.
    It looks like any other day. It could be yesterday, last week, a month ago. But it ain’t. This ain’t any other day.
    I never knew. Didn’t know everythin could be fine one moment an then the next moment so bad that it ’ud be like the time before that moment was all a dream.
    Or maybe this is the dream. A long an terrible dream about a storm an some men in black who killed Pa an took Lugh away. Maybe I’ll wake up soon. I’ll tell everybody about it an we’ll shake our heads about how strange dreams can be.
    I feel a dull throb in my right hand. I look at it. There’s a cloth wrapped around it, all filthy an torn. I prod it. A sharp pain shoots along my arm. Feels real enough.
    Somebody’s sayin somethin.
    Saba? Emmi’s voice. Saba?
    Huh?
    What about Procter John?
    I look down. His body lies sprawled on the ground, his face twisted with pain. Guess he didn’t die right off.
    I told you he’s the right one. I should know. I bin keepin an eye on him all this time like you told me to .
    Leave him fer the vultures, I says.
    The smell of burnin tires on the wind. My scalp prickles. Smells real enough.
    I heave my barksack over my shoulder. I start walkin. I don’t look back. I ain’t ever comin back to this place agin.
    Dead lake. Dead land. Dead life.

THE TRACKWAY

T HERE’S ONLY ONE NARROW TRACK . I T GOES INTO AN OUTTA Silverlake. Otherwise, it’s all open country around here. Low scrub, boulders an the ruins of one or two Wrecker buildins.
    The trackway runs northeast. It also happens that Crosscreek, where I’m gonna leave Emmi with Mercy, lies three days due northeast of here. Mind you, that’s three days by Pa’s reckonin. It won’t be three days fer Em’s short legs. An she’s a fearful slow walker.
    C’mon, Emmi, I says. Let’s see you step lively.
    I stride out. After ten steps or so, I check over my shoulder to make sure she’s keepin up. She’s stopped. She’s standin in the middle of the trackway. She’s got her arms folded over her skinny bird chest. Her barksack’s dumped in the mud beside her.
    C’mon! I yell. She shakes her head. I curse an turn back. I git to her an says, What?
    We shouldn’t go, she says. She lifts her stubborn little pointed chin. I know that look. She’s set to cause ructions.
    Why not? I says.
    We need to stay here, she says. If Lugh comes back an we ain’t here, he’ll be worried.
    He ain’t comin back, I says.
    He’ll git away from the men, she says, I know he will. An he’ll come back an we won’t be here an he won’t know where to start to lookin fer us or anythin.
    Listen, I says, you didn’t see ’em. I did. Four men took him. Tied him hand an foot an put him on the back of a horse. He ain’t gonna git away on his own. That’s why I’m goin after him. By myself. I promised him I’d find him an that’s what I’m gonna do.
    After you find him, she says, we’ll come back here. Right?
    I can see by her face that she knows we ain’t ever comin back, but she’s gonna make me say it.
    This place ain’t fit to live in, I says. You know that. We’ll find us a new place to live. A better one. Me an Lugh an … you.
    Her eyes fill with tears. But this is where we live, she says. It’s our home.
    I shake my head. Not no more, it ain’t. It cain’t be.
    After a moment, she says, Saba?
    What? I says.
    I got a bad feelin. I don’t think we should go. I … I’m afeared.
    I open my mouth to tell her not to be so stupid, but stop myself before the words come out. I’m in charge of her now an I don’t want her diggin her heels in every time I ask her to do somethin. I try to think what Lugh ’ud do if he was here. He’d probly tease her, coax her.
    Whaddya mean, afeared? I put on a face like I’m surprised. How can you be afeared with me in charge?
    She gives a little smile. Ain’t you afeared?
    She says it almost like she’s shy of me.
    Me? I says. Naw. I ain’t afeared of nuthin. I ain’t afeared of nobody.
    Really? she says.
    Really, I says. I hesitate. Then I stick out my hand. She puts hers in it. C’mon, I says. Let’s go.

    We ain’t gone more’n half a league before we come across hoofprints in the dried mud. Five horses. The riders come this way with Lugh.
    I kneel down an trace around the edges of a print. I feel dizzy from relief. I feared they might of headed straight across open country from Silverlake.
    If they had of, I’d of lost a lotta time takin Emmi to Crosscreek an then comin back