FIFTEEN

Caitlyn and Theo had waited hours after the dogs quieted, then silently traveled to the edge of town. They looked down at Cumberland Gap from a hill, well hidden by dark and trees. Streetlights illuminated the sidewalks of the city below, but night masked the buildings and alleys. It was past curfew in Cumberland Gap, and the town showed no life.

Even with the blanket of dark, Caitlyn didn’t feel safe. Too much ahead. Too many questions.

Her father’s letter had instructed her to steal a horse for the next part of her journey.

Although it was just one more crime against Bar Elohim—and after a certain point, when execution by stoning was inevitable, what did it matter how many more crimes?—the thought still terrified Caitlyn.

Yet what else could she do? Papa’s actions had committed her to flee, and without a horse, she’d face certain capture in the next day or two.

“You can’t be taken, dead or alive. You must not fall into their hands.” Words from the letter, to haunt her.

All that remained was forward. For survival and answers, she’d steal a horse.

“I’m afraid you won’t come back,” Theo said. He shivered slightly.

“You said you were forced into a factory when you were ten,” Caitlyn said. She’d already explained that once they were on a horse, the bloodhounds wouldn’t be able to track them on it, but she had not explained how she’d get the horse. “So you know and remember enough about the towns to understand how big the liveries are, right?”

“Fifty or sixty horses,” Theo said. “Sometimes up to a hundred.”

There were paved roads in Appalachia, connecting the towns and suitable for automobile traffic. But the only vehicles on the road were government supply trucks that traveled from town to town. Bar Elohim had outlawed private vehicles and reduced all personal travel to horseback. Because the towns were small and self-contained, people had little reason to travel far anyway, and at the most, it was only an hour or two by horseback or carriage to the next town. The benefits to Appalachia exceeded the simpler, unhurried American life of two centuries earlier; Outside paid a hefty annual fee to Appalachia for carbon emission credits. This, along with the computer chips produced at the factories and the sale of water to Outside, provided a stable economy inside Appalachia.

“The livery man will walk a few blanketed horses out into the feedlot tonight,” Caitlyn said. All of it had been on the instructions waiting for her in the cave. From Papa. She didn’t even know if he was alive. She swallowed and continued explaining. “He walks them out every night, so it doesn’t seem suspicious. Every once in a while, however, one of the horses is already saddled beneath the blanket. He will leave that horse near the gate, out of view of any public surveillance cameras. The timer on the gate is set to be unlocked from 11:55 to 12:05. That’s when I step inside the gate and get the horse.”

Caitlyn held out a letter, and there was just enough light from the moon for Theo to see it.

“I want you to hold this. There are instructions on where to go once we have the horse.”

“You can read?” Theo refused the letter and stepped away nervously, looking at Caitlyn as if she were contagious. “No wonder they want to find you.” He shivered again. “Now I’m really afraid you won’t come back.”

“I’m not going to abandon you here!” Her nostrils had become accustomed to the skunk smell, but the boy still aggravated her. She’d take him farther, just enough for him to get well fed and to be safe. “That’s why I told you all that, about the plan, and offered the letter. So you know you can trust me. I can’t leave you here, or you could go to the Elders with what you know.”

“That’s not it,” he said. “What I meant is that I’m afraid something will happen to you. The horses have radio chips too. Nobody can steal a horse.”

“What if the horse isn’t reported stolen?” Caitlyn said.

“Oh.” Theo was almost violently shivering. “But I’m still afraid something will go wrong.”

“Nothing will go wrong.” She wondered if she looked as convincing as she tried to sound. “I promise.”