“I will,” Attie said, before Iris could even draw a breath. She climbed up into the driver’s seat while Iris and Keegan crammed into the other side of the cab. A few soldiers stationed on this side of town had to open a makeshift gate, but then there was nothing but wide-open road before them.
“Turn on the ignition,” Keegan said.
Iris watched as Attie cranked the engine. The lorry roared to life.
“Now, do you know how a clutch operates?”
“Yes.” Attie sounded a bit hesitant, but her hands were on the steer ing wheel and her eyes were taking quick inventory of the dash and the levers.
“Good. Put your foot on that pedal. Push it in.”
Iris watched as Attie heeded Keegan’s instructions. Soon they were bouncing along the road, Avalon Bluff nothing more than a cloud of dust behind them. First, second, third gear. Attie was able to shift seamlessly between them, and when they were traveling so fast that Iris’s teeth were rattling, Attie let out a triumphant whoop.
“Very good. Now gear back down to neutral and park it,” Keegan said.
Attie did so, and then it was Iris’s turn.
Her palms were damp as she took the steering wheel. Her foot could barely reach the gas pedal, let alone the clutch she had to push to the floorboard.
It was … disastrous.
She nearly ran the lorry off the road twice, killed the engine at least four times, and was spouting off a stream of curses by the time Keegan took over.
“A little more practice, and you’ll be fine,” the captain said. “You get the general idea, and that’s all that matters.”
Iris slid into the passenger seat with Attie, and they were quiet as Keegan drove them back into town. The makeshift gate closed behind them, and soon the lorry was parked where it had been before, its nose pointing to the east.
Keegan turned off the engine, but she didn’t move. She stared out the dust-streaked windshield and said, “If things go badly here, I want to the two of you to take Marisol and that Kitt of yours and flee in this lorry. If you have to drive through this gate to get out, don’t hesitate to run over it. And you don’t stop for anything. You drive east until you’re safe.” She paused, setting her dark gaze on the girls. “Marisol has a sister who lives in a small town called River Down, about fifty kilometers west of Oath. Go there first. You stay together and you prepare for the worst. But you have to get Marisol out of here for me. Do you swear it?”
Iris’s mouth was suddenly dry. She stared at the captain—at the hard edges of her face and the scars on her hands—and she hated this war. She hated that it was dragging good people early to their graves, that it was tearing people’s lives and dreams apart.
But she nodded and spoke in unison with Attie.
“I swear it.”
* * *
They were delegated as runners after that.
Attie and Iris ran through the winding streets of Avalon Bluff, delivering meals and messages and anything else that either Marisol or Keegan needed. Iris had come to know this town like the lines on her palm, and she often ran the same routes she had with Roman when he had been training her. When they had run with the dawn. She was pleased to discover how much her stamina had improved since that first jog.
She only wished he could run beside her now.
The platoon stationed on the bluff needed a meal, and Iris and Attie ran to deliver it to them. Afternoon clouds were beginning to swell, blocking the sunlight, and Iris could smell a hint of smoke on the wind. She knew why when she reached the crest of the summit.
In the distance, Clover Hill was burning.
She delivered the baskets of food to the soldiers, studying each of their faces just in case Forest was among them. He wasn’t, but her hope remained like iron within her, even when she stood and watched the smoke rise in the distance. She wondered if there had been any survivors in Clover Hill, or if Dacre had slaughtered them all.
“How much longer until Dacre comes for us, do you think?” Attie asked, coming to a stop beside her. The land that sprawled between them and Clover Hill was peaceful, idyllic. Its innocence was deceiving.
“Keegan said he would come tomorrow morning,” Iris replied. They still had four hours of sunlight remaining in the day, and then night would come. Beyond that, Iris could only imagine.
In some ways, this quiet stretch of waiting was more difficult to bear. Hour after hour of wondering and preparing and anticipating. Who would die? Who would live? Would they be able to successfully hold the town? Would Dacre burn it to the ground, like Clover Hill?
“If things go bad and we have to uphold our vow to Keegan,” Attie began. “I’ll grab Marisol. You grab Roman. We’ll meet at the lorry.”
“How do we know when things are bad enough?” Iris asked, licking her lips. She could taste the salt of her sweat. “At what point do we know when to flee?” She had wanted to pose this question to Keegan but had swiftly swallowed it, worried that the captain would think it unnecessary. Shouldn’t you know when things are bad enough?
“I’m not sure, Iris,” Attie replied grimly. “But I think in the moment … we’ll just know.”
Iris felt something brush her ankle. She startled as she heard a sorrowful meow, and she glanced down to see a calico cat rubbing against her legs.
“Why, look here!” Attie cried, delightedly scooping up the cat. “A good luck charm!”
“I didn’t realize cats brought favor,” Iris said, but she smiled as she watched Attie coo over the feline.
“Who do you think she belongs to?” Attie asked. “A stray, do you think?”
“I think she’s one of the O’Briens’ cats. They had about seven. I’m guessing this one was left behind when they evacuated.” It looked suspiciously like the very cat that had been curled up in Roman’s lap the day before. Iris reached out and scratched behind its ears, craving to touch something soft and gentle.
“Well, she’s coming home with me. Aren’t you, Lilac?” Attie began to walk down the hill, purring cat in her arms.
“Lilac?” Iris echoed, following. She passed the O’Briens’ yard. The crate where she had appointed Roman to wait for her was long gone, harvested for the barricades. It felt so strange, to realize how much could change in a day.
“Yes. My favorite flower,” Attie said, glancing back at Iris. “Second only to an iris, of course.”
Iris smiled, shaking her head. But her happiness dimmed as she con tinued along the path back to the B and B, around barricades and chains of soldiers. As she watched Attie speak affectionately to the cat.
It was just one more thing they would need to grab if things fell apart.
* * *
“You brought a cat back with you?” Roman exclaimed. He was sitting at the kitchen table, peeling a mountain of potatoes. His eyes flickered from Attie to the cat to finally rest on Iris, his gaze rushing up and down her body, as if he was searching for a new scratch on her.
Iris flushed when she realized she was doing the same to him—searching his every bend and line to ensure he was all right. She felt heat crackle through her when their gazes united.
“Yes,” Attie said, her embrace tightening around Lilac. The cat emitted a plaintive meow. “The poor thing was on the hill all alone.”