All The Dark Places

25. Under The Night Sky

        The hatch at the back of the barn was three and a half feet tall and four feet wide. It was made to make it easy to shovel hay into the barn without disturbing the animals. She tucked the knife into her belt and crouched down to peek out to the other side. It was dark, but it looked like open field. If they were fast and lucky, they would make it out and across that field into darkness before the gang could find them. The barn had until recently been a working barn and the implements of farm life scattered around the space. Rosalind looked around until she found a length of hemp rope. She grabbed it and tied one end around her waist, looping it in a knot.

"Gareth," She whispered. "I'm going to guide you out a very small door. It's very short so you will have to crawl through it, but I will go first and pull you through. On the other side, I am going to tie a rope around your waist and I will hold the other end, so we can't lose each other in the dark. It's not ideal, but it's all we have right now. Can you do that?"

Father Gareth took a deep breath and nodded.

"This way..."

She took his hands and tugged him toward the hatch, then pushed on his shoulder to indicate he should crawl. She went through first, crawling through on her hands and knees and holding the knife in her mouth, ready, just in case. She reached through and tugged at Gareth's arm, and the man went down on his hands and knees, following her lead. They made it through and into the open darkness. The orange glow of the campfire tossed light in the air just over the roof of the building. She couldn't see any of the gang members from this side of the building, but she could hear them. They were drunk and yelling at each other about football teams.

"Walk softly if you can." She whispered and kept a hold of his hand. "Here, hold onto my hips behind me."

He gripped her hips and followed her footsteps. The raucous sound of the thugs arguing drowned out the sound of small twigs crunching under their feet. She could barely see. Moonlight stayed behind clouds. She panicked. She did not know which way she was going. She wasn't sure she cared, as long as it was away from them. Finding her footing, she picked her way across the field with Gareth close behind. Tops of trees made a silhouette against the backdrop of velvet-blue midnight sky. She went toward the trees. Take cover in the trees, she thought. They would not be sitting ducks in the forest.

The trees offered some degree of solace. She stopped for a moment to let Gareth rest and to figure out what to do next. She could still hear them, even across the field and in the trees, which meant they were not far enough away.

"Where are we?" Gareth asked.

"I'm not sure. Can you hear water? Is that a creek? Yes, I think it is. We are in Mill Hollow then. From what I've been told there is not much here. A few farmhouses and those have likely been taken over by those assholes. There is an old abbey, but we can't go there. They would find us. I think we find the creek and follow it. My friends are camped somewhere near the creek. They will be looking for me."

She hoped. In fact, she wasn't sure they would look for her at all. Would Toby go out of his way to find her? Would Ivy? She would like to think Ramona would, and perhaps Ethan. Maybe. The realization that she had very little worth in this new world was a dizzying one. She had rescued a man that she wasn't sure the village would be happy about taking in. After all, when Ethan showed up, she had questioned the sanity of taking in another mouth to feed. Taking Gareth's hand again, she led him toward the sound of babbling water. The creek opened up in front of her and in the dark; she chose a random direction, feeling disoriented and for the first time in her life, very vulnerable. They followed the creek for what seemed like an hour but was, in fact, only twenty minutes. She smelled charcoal, the scent of a recently burnt campfire. Father Gareth yelped when a wolf growled from behind them. She turned around to see the massive form of a dire wolf... Ivy. Oh, thank God for Ivy.