Chapter 24: Sorrel Island

"Get down," I said. "Smoke rises. Stay low."

Abel dropped to his hands and good knee without a word.

I soaked the blue blanket from the water jug and wrapped it around Junie.

Then I lay flat on the stone with her under me.

The air near the floor was cooler.

I had told that to a hundred frightened patients, and I told it to myself now.

Overhead, the door cracked and spat.

Junie coughed, thin and furious, and I pressed my cheek to hers.

"Count with me," I said to Abel. "Slow breaths."

"I'm too old for this, lass."

"Breathe."

He breathed with me.

Through the smoke, I heard an engine.

It was far off and coming hard, a launch pushed past anything the sea should allow.

Then boots on the hill, running.

"Lena!"

I had heard him say my name on a beach with seawater in his throat.

This was worse.

"Here!" I screamed. "The cellar! It's barred!"

Something heavy hit the door.

The bar scraped.

Light and heat poured in as the oak was torn aside.

Rhys stood in the doorway wrapped in a wet tarp, with the fire at his back.

He had the burning door in both hands.

The old scar on his left forearm was blistering, and he didn't even look at it.

He looked at me, then at the baby, and something on his face broke open.

"Out," he said. "Now."

We stumbled up the steps into clean air.

Abel went first, coughing and waving off help, with his new cane in one hand.

I came after with Junie, and Rhys's arm closed around us both, hard and shaking.

"I've got you," he said into my hair. "I've got you."

"Rhys. Behind you."

Veda stood twenty feet away at the top of the hill, with the pistol raised and level.

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