Page 113 of Break Out the Girl

“Mom!” Tally exclaims. “We need to be looking after you, not the other way around.”

She laughs. “Son, I’ve never felt better!” Her face is beaming.

“I am most happy for your safe return, madam,” François says, a little awkwardly. “But we cannot stay. It is not safe.” He looks to the rest of us. “J'insiste that we take our leave as soon as possible.”

He insists?

How very François.

But I can’t say he’s wrong. “We’re putting your parents in danger, being here, aren’t we, Tally?”

My wolf nods. “Yes. We’ll go to Miss Bernadette’s, like you suggested, Dad. Mom, what supplies can we take?”

The next thirty minutes is a whirlwind that I mostly stay out of, instead, gently waking Sky, then waiting with her while everyone else does the work.

“Medical supplies,” Opal says, thrusting a chest at Basil. “And take one of the potato sacks from the barn, Tally.”

“The shotgun shells are in the china hutch, behind your mother’s tea set,” Mr. Bevan, who I’ve been told to call Gareth, is telling Tally.

Jim is in the hallway, phone pressed to his ear.

I only catch a snippet of his conversation over the bustle, but it’s obvious he’s talking to his wife. And that she is overcome to hear from him.

François is pawing through a tool box, though I’m not sure what he’s after, and London is carrying a pile of blankets and clothes. Suddenly he stops, dropping everything on the floor. “Wait, wait, wait! I have to go back to the Manor House. That little chicklette is still up a tree. If I don’t return, she’ll be stuck up there forever, like Jack with no beanstalk.”

François slams the tool box shut. “Go back? Impossible.”

No. London’s right. Those poor girls.

“You go to Bernadette’s, Taliesin,” Gareth commands, making me realize that the Bevan bossiness didn’t fall far from the tree. “Jim, Opal and I will take care of the other victims. If I can’t reach Cosmo soon, I’ll contact the Unbound Resistance. They’ll rescue the rest of the girls.”

Yes! Thank Gods!

London grabs Gareth and plants a kiss on the top of his head. “Mr. Burly, senior. I wish I was the king, because if I were, my first order of business would be to knight you.”

As Gareth tries to brush London off, Tally starts drawing on a piece of paper. “We left a tunnel under the perimeter on the west side, Dad. It’s a hundred yards out from the private road. They can get in there. And let them know that the bitch that runs the place is dead. The whole property will be a complete shitshow right now.”

Gareth nods, looking at the scribbled map. “Yes, good. I’ll let them know. But you all really need to move. Sun up in a couple of hours, best to travel in the dark.”

London scoops up a still-groggy Sky. “Come on, little Skylight, I’ve made such a cozy nest for you in the boot.”

François grabs my hand, hardly giving me a chance to call out my goodbyes before dragging me through the freezing rain to the LandRover.

“BASIL?” I call out, looking around. A little head wearing goggles pokes out of the driver's seat.

“Get in the back,” François tells him. “Mon dieu!”

Tally slides in, starting the engine as Basil is still clambering over the seats. The urgency of suddenly needing to leave has affected us all.

With the headlights off, we bounce down the muddy farm track and out onto the side road. “You know where you’re going?” I ask Tally over the loud engine noise.

“Yeah, it’s only a few miles.”

I look out the rain-streaked window, watching the warm home disappear into the night. Far on the other side of the valley, the headlights of two vehicles are visible. I point them out. “Are they heading our way?”

“No,” Tally frowns. “Unless they turn off.” He guns the rover faster on the wet road.

I watch the tiny yellow lights in the distance until I can see them no longer.