Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Tuck had moved ahead again, and I waited as Charlie stuck the jerky wrapper back in the front pocket of his backpack and met me in the middle of the road. “That was weird.”
“I know. Uh, sorry.”
“What’s up with you two, anyway?”
“Nothing. He hates me. And I hate him.”
“Doesn’t seem like it,” he muttered.
I gave him a look and slowed my walk so the distance grew between us and Tuck. I didn’t want him to overhear what we were saying. “What does that mean?”
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself. Same with him.”
“We were just messing around, Charlie. Not enjoying anything. He pissed me off. He treated me like a child and…well, I admit I acted like one. All that comes from growing up together, you know? It’s old habit to fight like siblings.”
“So that’s how you feel about him? Like a brother?”
“What? No. Or…yes! Yes, like a long-lost brother who disappointed the entire family and…brought shame on our name.”
“Your name?”
“Metaphorically speaking. We don’t have the same last name.”
“Which means he’s not your brother.”
A breath gusted from my mouth. “You get the point.” But when I looked over at Charlie, his expression told me he did not get the point. “Anyway, listen, Charlie.” I took his hand in mine. “This situation is bound to bring up heightened emotions. I think we should all acknowledge that none of us are going to be on our best behavior during this journey, even though we’ll try our best. There’s no rule book for what we’re experiencing, right?”
“You’re right.” He gripped my hand tighter. “We just have to make it through this journey and get back home. And then everything will go back to normal. We’ll go back to normal.”
I smiled, but it felt forced. What about that statement rubbed me the wrong way? I didn’t know, and so I wrote it off as the heightened emotions I’d just spoken of. Tuck and I had always been up and down and all over the place and that was only going to get worse now.
Tuck rounded a bend a few hundred feet ahead and for a couple minutes was out of sight. When we reached the turn, I saw him hunkered down behind some bushes on the side of the road, holding a pair of binoculars that the sheriff must have given him. He looked over his shoulder and gestured for us to hurry to where he was. “Get down,” he said quietly when we caught up. “I hear horses up ahead.”
“Horses?” Charlie asked. “Are they dangerous?”
“Not the horses, but the people riding them might be. I think we should wait here and see who they belong to.”
“What if no one’s riding them?” Charlie asked. “What if they’re…abandoned horses?”
“Then we might have our next ride,” Tuck said.
“Can I see?” I asked. He lowered the binoculars and looked at me, his lips thinning so that I thought he was going to say no. But then he handed the binoculars to me and moved to the side so I could look through the foliage like he’d been doing.
I put the lenses to my face and moved the binoculars from one side of the road to the other. The road we’d been traveling had been barren of businesses for the last few miles, save for a few empty, unmanned vegetable stands, only farms visible way out on the horizon. But several businesses were situated up ahead, including a few streets that stretched in other directions. It appeared to be the outskirts of a small town.
And Tuck was right about the horses. I heard them too, and now I could see the front hoofs of one from behind a roadside diner.
I started to hand the binoculars back to Tuck when two men wearing black and white exited the diner, the door opening in our direction so that I could see the front glass had been shattered. I watched as the men let the door swing closed behind them and then stood talking. I stared for another second. “They’re Amish,” I said. “Oh my Gosh. They’re Amish. Maybe they’ll give us a ride.” The Amish were…harmless. The Amish didn’t just have horses. They had buggies!
“Let me see,” Tuck said, taking the binoculars from me. I watched him surveil them, his mouth turning down into a frown.
“What’s wrong? The Amish are nonviolent. We don’t have to be afraid of the Amish.”
“We have to be wary of everyone right now,” Tuck said without lowering the binoculars. “Also, we’re in Missouri.”
“So?”
“I’ve never heard of Amish in Missouri.”
“What are you, the Missouri census bureau?”
He did lower the binoculars then and trained a steady gaze on me. “Are we starting again?”
I smiled. “I’m joking. There could be lots of reasons they’ve traveled here from…” I waved my hand around. I had no idea where Amish people lived.