Fall asleep, Crewe. I don’t have a lot of time before I need to get going, and I can’t afford to have Crewe hear me on my way out. Before the phone signal was lost, my father insisted from afar that Merick guard both Crewe and me tonight. Only my father assumes that if anyone would need to be stopped for attempting to head toward Miles, it would be Crewe.
Merick decided that it would be better for me to come and stay at Crewe’s house than for him to join us at my father’s place. Apparently, Crewe hasn’t moved from his bed all day other than to use the bathroom. Merick said that he tried to talk to him into eating, but he refused.
My attempt at talking with him was again completely unsuccessful. There isn’t anything that I feel I need to say to Crewe other than what he’ll read in his letter from me, but I had hoped he would talk to me anyhow. I would take anything. I would love to hear something from him to replace the last words he said to me. In summary, he said that he regrets caring about me because it caused his brother’s death. Then he told me to leave. This evening, he wouldn’t say a single word to me.
Masked by Crewe’s fitful tossing and turning, I glide from atop Cy’s covers onto the floor beside his bed. Merick and I didn’t exchange pleasantries when I arrived. Our communication was all business. I asked for an update on Crewe and he asked whether I would be comfortable sleeping in Cy’s bed. I replied that I would be since I knew that I would not actually sleep tonight.
Cy has crossed my mind a lot over the last hour. Every moment that I’ve felt any doubt about my plan, I’ve simply looked around at his discarded clothing, shoes, and, humorously, beef jerky wrappers that litter the floor. This is Cy’s room. If I can’t find inspiration and courage here, then it’s nowhere to be found.
I slide my pack out from under his bed, like I did time after time in the dark, quiet hours in Miles County. I pull three tri-folded letters from their discrete hiding place in my bag. I decide to read each letter one last time while I wait for Crewe to settle in so that I can make my escape.
On top is the letter addressed to my father. I open it and read:
Dear Dad,
I spent many years of my childhood wondering what you were like, and who you might have become if only you had been given the chance to live. I always pictured you as a hero, Dad, and that’s exactly what you are. You are a hero to the people of Sheridan.
Crewe once told me the story of his father’s passing. He told me that his father had to sacrifice his own life to save others from a deadly fire. There is deadly fire facing Sheridan now, only you are not Crewe’s father, standing in the middle of the fire. You are not the one with the power to extinguish it, because you are not the one that the fire wants.
You are an onlooker this time, Dad, which means that you have to make an even greater sacrifice than giving your own life. You are going to have to allow your daughter, your little princess, to be the one to smother the flames. You have to let me go so that others can be saved, especially Evvie. You have to let me be her hero. Your place is on the outskirts this time, protecting the rest from the back draft. Sheridan needs you, Dad. The free people need their valiant captain.
I know it seems like our time together has been too short, but the truth is, you’ve been in my life all along, Dad, and me in yours. All this time we’ve been with each other in our thoughts and in our dreams. No matter what happens, we’ll stay that way forever.
Be everything for Evvie that you’ve always wanted me to have. Protect her, love her, and be with her when she needs you. Be strong for her, Dad, and for me.
I’ve loved you forever, and I always will.
Your little princess,
Sydney
I refold my father’s letter and tuck it under my crisscrossed leg. I hope that he doesn’t feel as though he’s failed me. I hope he doesn’t feel that he’s sent me to my death by prolonging the mission to rescue Evvie. It wasn’t until I began writing the letter that I let some of my frustrations toward him go. He is the leader of hundreds of people, and their well-being falls in his hands.
The second letter is addressed to Crewe. He’s been still for the last few minutes. I hope he’s finally able to find some peace. There’s a part of me that wants to slip this letter under his door before he falls into an overdue, deep sleep. A part of me wants someone to realize my plan, so that they can offer to take the burden off my shoulders. I know one person who surely would, but he isn’t here. I wouldn’t ask that of anyone anyway. Enough blood has been shed from other’s fighting my battles for me.
Dear Crewe,
I can’t express how sorry I am for your loss. I’m not ashamed to tell you that before I met you and Cy, I never really had a good friend. In the short time that I had the privilege to know your brother, he resurrected a spirit in me, a spirit for life, and for a freedom of heart that I had never known. I will always remember that.
You will always hold a special place in my heart as well. I have never known anyone to understand me the way you do, Crewe. I have also never had another soul be concerned over my protection the way that you were. It felt nice to be cared for.
When I learned of Cy’s passing, I took his hand and I made him a promise. I promised him that I would look after and care for you the way that you were trying to care for me. I’m sorry to break this promise to him and this debt to you. I want to be there for you, Crewe. I want to hold your hand and tell you that it’s going to be okay.
I’m sorry for all the pain I brought on you and your family of the free in Sheridan. If I could go back and change everything, I would. Instead, I have made the choice to go to the ones who threaten us. This way, I can keep part of my promise to your brother by keeping you safe. Let me go. Let me return my sister to a place where she can be filled with life. Where she lives, Cy’s death was not in vain.
This will only begin to reassemble the good things that have been destroyed because of me. Hopefully you can find the fortitude to pick up the pieces to finish strengthening Sheridan after I’m gone. On Decklin’s deathbed, he mentioned a passage from the Bible that he wanted me to read, Isaiah forty-nine. I read it, and all the while I thought of you. I believe that you can change the course of history, Crewe. You can be a light to the nations.
I am forever grateful that you took a chance on me to bring me to Sheridan. It was worth a lifetime in Miles. I will forever cherish you for that. I do hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for endangering your people and your town the way I have. With what I am going to do, I hope to bring lasting peace to them.
I will miss you, Crewe. I will miss what we might have meant to each other.
Yours,
Sydney
The last letter is by far the most difficult to open. Already, I have to fight to suppress my sadness to keep silent.
Dear Evvie,
I believe I love you more than any person has ever loved another. You have been my entire world from the day you were born. I am so proud of all of your accomplishments and so invested in all of your dreams. You are the best sister that anyone could have asked for, and I love you with every piece of my heart.
Evvie, I simply could not have lived without you. I hope you can understand that. That is why I offer my life to safeguard yours. I know it is going to be hard, but try not to cry for me, my sweet little sister. We have suffered too many tears together in our lives. If you never shed another tear in your life, it still wouldn’t be enough. Therefore, I want you to live every minute smiling and laughing for me. I want you to live the happy, carefree life that was lost to me long ago.
Our father is alive, Evvie. It’s really him. You can trust him. I want you to accept him and be the daughter he’s spent years searching for. I want him to know what a beautiful soul you have. I want happily ever after for the both of you, together in Sheridan.
I know it’s too much to ask for you to get on without me, Ev, but I’m begging it anyway. Please know that I want this, Evvie. No matter where I am, I’m only happy if you are. So tr
y to find a reason to smile each day and pretty soon, you’ll find that you won’t even have to try. That’s when I’ll be happiest.
You will always be in my heart, little sister, and I’ll always be listening when you need me. There is a whole world out there for you, and I love you to the end of it and so far beyond.
Your sister forever,
Sydney
I refold the paper that I was careful not to blotch with my tears and put it on top of the other two. I return the bundle of goodbyes to my pack and latch it closed. After a few calming breaths, I seal my eyes and compose my heart. I rise to my feet to begin one final journey.
Crewe is no longer stirring, and I’m happy for that. The last thing he deserves is to have to lie awake at night remembering and regretting the loss of his brother.
Merick is easy to pass by, as he snores away wildly on the couch in the living room. I’ve been so frustrated with Merick since yesterday, but he is a good man. I wish I had written that in someone’s letter. It’s too late to make any changes now. 2:00 AM is nearing.
I’m out of the house without so much as a creak. Clouds overhang the moon in the sky above, making it difficult to see where I am headed. This wouldn’t be an issue in Miles. There, streetlights blaze all through the night.
I sprint toward the lot at the station. I want the window of time from my departure from Crewe’s home to my arrival at what was supposed to be Evvie’s and my home to be minimal. I want the smallest opportunity possible for someone to notice that I’m missing.
I think I arrive at The Lot in a shorter amount of time than yesterday. Even in the darkness, the disaster I run into is clear. The red truck is gone.
Flustered, I sprint across to the convenience store. I tug hard at the wide, silver handle but the door doesn’t budge. It’s locked. Since when has anything been locked in Sheridan?
I guess the best I can do is try to find the vehicle with the fullest tank of gas. That means that I’m going to have to start many of them. Turning the ignition is the action I dread most as it is what will make the most noise. Now I’m going to have to do it multiple times.
I open the door to a wooden cabinet mounted on one of the supports that used to run fuel into vehicles. It’s evident that this portion of my excursion was severely under planned. The names written on the matching keys that Sheridan forged mean nothing to me. I can’t waste time like this. I pull a random key from a hook and try to place it in the ignition of the car closest to me. It doesn’t fit. The same key goes about halfway into the ignition of a small van, and then jams up. Luckily, the key fits smoothly into the third vehicle that I try. I turn the ignition and see that the tank only holds a fourth of a tank of gas.
I can’t afford to play this game. I open the center console of the low-riding car and find a heavy flashlight. Perfect. Leaving the car door ajar, I sprint over to the convenience store door and shatter the glass with a swift blow of the flashlight. I knock some sharp shards out of my path, and reach in to unlock the door. I knock something over on my way in, and trip over it as I struggle to carry a loaded jerrican out to the car.
After dumping some gasoline into the tank, I return the cap and haul the can to the passenger door. I open the door and lug it onto the passenger seat. Finally, I sit down in the driver’s seat, pull the car door closed, and turn the key in the ignition. I have only filled the tank a little over halfway, but that will have to do for now. I can always make a pit stop in route if I need to.
I hope driving this car won’t be as difficult as it was to get it ready. I’ve never driven anything before. I take hold of gearshift and put the car into drive. I feel like I lifted my foot off the brake slowly, but the car hiccups forward until I slam the brake back down. Driving is going to be more treacherous than I had estimated, especially in the deepest dark of night without headlights. Headlights might wake someone.
I do the best that I can to use the moon’s low light to maneuver myself calmly down Main Street. Before I head toward the cluster of homes south of the hospital, I brake and search inside the car for the button that will roll down the window. I don’t find it, and don’t want to accidentally turn on the headlights, so I decide to put the car in park and crack the door open just far enough for the dome lights to come on. I use them to quickly find and press the button. I pinch my eyes shut as if squeezing them together will make the clash of closing the car door quieter.
I can see better looking out of this window than looking out of the smudgy windshield. I can also listen for how much noise the car makes against the pavement. The sounds of the tires are actually quite hushed. This will do.
The clock on the dash of the car is the only light inside when I pull up to the place that I had scoped out to leave the truck, which has now turned into a car. There is a man’s shadow, which stops my heart until I realize it’s Rico.
There is a thick, dark strap that cuts across Rico’s chest. He swings the weapon to his side. Rico nods with purpose to make me understand that he’s still all in, like Cy would be. I’m glad that he remains at a distance. I need these last few moments to myself.
I look at the clock one final time before I turn the car off. 1:58 AM. Two minutes. I will have two minutes before county BOTs arrive on scene, and place my sleeping sister in the home that I can see a glimpse of from here. Or I have two minutes until they reveal their bluff, and take me out anyway. Either way, I have two minutes until the end of my life begins.