The Wright Way

Chapter 25 - The Wright Way

Barnaby surely had his suspicions about me, but he didn't expect this. I feel bad about betraying what trust he still has in me, but the advantage of surprise is the only one I have, and I must use it.

I push him, and he throws his hands up, his feet slipping off the edge. One of his hands shoots back, grasping at me as his body twists in the air, beginning to turn, already half falling. His fingers brush against my sleeve. I stumble back, nearly slipping myself. The earth feels shaky under my feet for a moment, and by the time I steady myself, Barnaby is gone.

The realization of what I have done descends on me with all its crushing weight, and I want to undo it even before the sound of a splash comes from below. The irreversibility of it is unbearable. Barnaby might still survive—he's a good swimmer, and, as he himself pointed out, the river is deep here—yet I still feel like a monster. I've never done anything like this. I've never hurt anyone on purpose.

Well, I did slap Joshua earlier today—which reminds me why I did this in the first place.

I turn around and find him right behind me, his tied-up hands half raised. He freezes in place, staring at me. Did he intend to push me?

"What're you doing?" I say.

"I don't know." He backs away, shaking his head. "I have no idea what's going on. I thought you were on his side. I thought you were going to kill me, and now you pushed him. What's happening, Ethan?"

"I wasn't going to kill you," I say, my mind working frantically. I did what I had to do. It's not right to take Joshua's life, or anyone else's, no matter what Uncle says. Barnaby may not have the ability to question the old man's decisions, but I do. As much as I wished I could be as single-minded as most of Uncle's followers, I never could silence my doubts.

"But you hit me. You said that you wanted to join them again."

"I did." I grab him by the arms and examine the rope. It's too thick for me to tear it and I don't have anything sharp to cut it with. "I wanted that." I meet his wide-eyed gaze. "Yet the price is too high. Come on, let's go. We only have a few minutes before they realize we're taking too long."

"Go where?" He throws a fearful look up the slope. "We can't return to the road."

"We'll go through the forest." I pull him by the rope, but he resists.

"Not this way," he hisses. "The farms of the sect are that way, no?"

The word 'sect' cuts me like a razor, but there's no time to discuss this.

"Just shut up, okay?" I snap, grabbing him by the rope that binds his hands together and pulling him after me. "We don't have time for this. We need to move."

I step into the shadow under the trees, pulling him after me, and he follows quietly, if awkwardly. We should be running, for sure, but it's too dark for that. So, we walk—fast. The trees are sparse here, but the underbrush is dry, and each time one of us steps on a branch, the noise makes me wince. I glance left every now and then to verify that we maintain a safe distance from the drop. Occasional low branches brush against my face, and the smell of pines and cedars is strong in the air.

I wonder if they already know what's happened. It's only been a few minutes, but Uncle and some of the others are probably descending the slope already to find the three of us gone. Barnaby didn't cry out when he fell, but they'll realize something has happened to him. He wouldn't have left without asking for Uncle's permission, and he wouldn't have let us go. They'll know I've betrayed them. Perhaps they already know. What are they doing now?

The uncertainty weighs upon me. Not knowing what they're up to feels more ominous than sounds of pursuit would have been. What if they're ahead of us already? What if it was all a test, sending me to do Barnaby's job? If so, I have failed it completely, helping Joshua to escape instead of getting rid of him. Worse still, I've attacked Barnaby. There'll be no way back for me after this, no matter my family connections

Behind me, Joshua steps on a particularly dry branch. Its cracking seems deafening to me. I stop and turn around and grab his face with both hands, my own panic bursting out.

"Keep quiet," I hiss. "If they hear us, we're both dead."

"But they'll find us," he whispers. "We're moving towards the farms. They'll bring more people to find us."

"That's why we should get to the river and cross to the other side, okay?"

"But—"

"Let's just move, all right? There's no time for this."

"All right," he whispers, and wrenches his head from my grip. "Just let go of the rope already, will you? I'm not a dog to be dragged on a leash."

I don't mind granting his request, given how tricky it's been to make my way in the dark while pulling him after me. I turn and resume my walking, only glancing back to make sure he follows. He does, and seems to be moving quieter now that he can choose by himself where to step instead of plowing blindly after me.

For a while, we walk in silence. I try to suspend all thoughts of the people who now must be searching for us. There's nothing I can do about it, apart from trying to get as far away as possible and find a slope fit to descend to the river.

How will he swim with his hands tied? I push that thought away. We'll think about it when we get there. Maybe the river will be shallow enough to cross by foot, although that seems unlikely so close to the deep area where Barnaby fell.

"Hey," Joshua whispers behind me. "Listen."

I freeze, fearing that he has heard the sounds of pursuit. Yet the forest around us is as quiet as before. Then, I realize what he's talking about. The noise of the water seems closer.

"Let me check."

I gesture for him to stay behind, and come to the edge. I grasp the thick trunk of a pine tree, the smell of sap strong in my nostrils, and peek out from behind it. First, I check the edge of the forest for people, looking right and left, and then I look down.

The river is closer indeed, its rippled surface just a few feet below me. It looks deep and wide, so if we try to cross here, we'll have to swim. On the bright side, the slope is not too sharp, and we can descend with the help of the roots sticking out. There's even an old fallen tree next to the water, fit for us take cover behind it. I could try to cut Joshua's rope there with one of the rocks that litter the shore. If stone age people managed to use them, so could I.

Having an executable plan makes my spirits rise for the first time since I woke up and this crazy night has begun. I turn to Joshua.

"We'll descend here," I whisper, nodding at the shore. "I'll cut your rope with a rock, and then we'll swim to the other side. We'll need to do it all as fast as we can, all right?"

"No," he says, sounding annoyed. "It's not all right. I've been trying to tell you. I can't swim."