So close she could hear their footsteps pounding on the ground.
She ran faster.
Twigs scratched her, thorns prickled her, and every step exhausted her more.
She couldn’t see where she was going.
She tripped over roots and rocks, falling and getting up.
The barking grew louder.
She reached a stream.
The water was cold and fast-flowing.
Ruth had told her that water could mask a smell.
Amelia jumped in.
The current swept her away.
She grabbed onto a rock and held on.
Her dress became soaked and heavy.
She stayed there, up to her chest, shivering, listening.
The barking stopped.
For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the stream and the deafening pounding of her own heart.
She waited.
She didn’t move.
Then she heard movement nearby and a frantic search around the water.
The dogs were at the edge of the stream, upstream. She paced back and forth, trying to catch the scent again.
Amelia slipped deeper into the water.
She let the current carry her down the stream.
She barely kept her head above the surface.
The cold was numbing her toes.
She couldn’t feel her feet anymore.
But she kept going.
The dogs found the scent again.
They rushed into the water and followed her, the distance closing in moment by moment.
Amelia pulled herself to the opposite bank and ran again.
Her dress clung to her body.
Every step felt like dragging stones.
Her legs were cramping.
Her lungs were burning.
But she didn’t stop.
She ran for another hour, maybe more.
Time had lost its meaning.
There was nothing left but running and the sound of the dogs approaching again.
She didn’t know where she was.
The trees all looked the same.
And darkness was swallowing everything up.
She was lost. Then she saw it.
A cottage.
The cottage stood in a small clearing, half-destroyed, overgrown with vines. The roof was broken on one side, and the door hung by a single hinge. It looked abandoned.
Amelia didn’t care.
She rushed inside and closed the broken door behind her. She leaned her back against the wall and slid down to the ground. Her chest heaved violently. Her whole body trembled.
The barking was close now, maybe fifty yards away, maybe less.
Amelia looked around.
There was nothing in the cottage.
No furniture, no tools, just dirt, rotting wood, and shadows.
She crawled to the corner furthest from the door and curled up.
She closed her eyes.
And she prayed, for the first time in years.
She didn’t know if God listened to girls like her, but she prayed anyway. The barking stopped again.
She heard the dogs outside the cabin.
She heard their claws scratching the wooden walls.
She heard them sniffing at the gaps in the door.
She held her breath.
Then one of them barked.
A nervous, close bark. They were close.
The door burst open.
Brutus entered first, teeth bared, eyes wild. The cabin filled with growls and snarls.
Amelia screamed.
She squeezed herself into the corner.
There was no escape.
Brutus lunged.
And then something happened.
The floor gave way.
Amelia fell through the rotting wood and plummeted into darkness.
She fell with a painful thud, her breath catching for a moment before she caught it, trying to understand where she was.
Above her, she could hear the dogs barking and scratching at the hole she had fallen through, but they didn’t follow. The opening was narrow.
Amelia was in a cellar.
It was pitch black.
She couldn’t see anything.
She felt around with her hands.
The walls were dirt.
The floor was dirt.
It smelled of mold and decay.
But it was deep, about ten feet.
The dogs couldn’t reach her.
She sat there, shivering, listening to the dogs rage above her.
Hours passed.
The dogs didn’t leave.
They stayed at the edge of the opening, barking and growling.
Amelia’s body ached.
Her feet hurt terribly, and she looked exhausted.
Her dress was still wet and cold.
She wrapped her arms around herself and waited.
She didn’t know what else to do.
Then the barking changed.
It became quieter, hesitant.
The dogs were smelling something else.
She heard her move away from the opening.
She heard her claws on the floor of the cottage.
Something was occupying her.
Then there was silence.
Amelia didn’t move.
She didn’t trust that.
She stayed in the cellar, breathing as quietly as she could.
Minutes passed, maybe an hour.
She couldn’t tell anymore.
Then she heard a voice.
“Hey, girl.”
It was a woman’s voice.
“Old.”
“Rough.”
It came from above, from inside the cottage.
“You down there?”
Amelia didn’t answer.
She didn’t know if it was a trick.
“I won’t hurt you. The dogs are gone. You can go out now.”
Her throat was dry.
She could barely speak.
She swallowed hard and whispered,
Who are you?
Someone who isn’t supposed to be here either. Come on, come up. I have water.
Amelia hesitated.
Then she felt for a piece of wood sticking out of the wall.
She used it to pull herself up.
She climbed slowly and carefully until she could see through the opening.
There was a face looking at her.
An elderly Black woman, with silver hair and eyes etched with deep wrinkles.
She reached out and helped Amelia out.
Amelia stood on trembling legs.
She looked around.
The dogs were gone.
The woman stood in front of her holding a tin cup.
She said, “Drink.”
Amelia took the cup and drank.
The water was warm, but it was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted.
She drank until the cup was empty.
Where did the dogs go? Amelia asked.
The woman smiled.
It wasn’t a smile of joy, but a smile of knowledge and sorrow.
I sent her away, she said.
How?
The same way I sent away everyone who came looking for me. I know things, things that frighten dogs, and frighten men too.
Amelia stared at her.
Who are you?
My name is Esther. I’ve lived in this wood for almost forty years. I was enslaved long ago. And I escaped.
She paused, then continued,
They sent dogs after me too. But I learned how to stay. How to hide. And how to fight back in ways they don’t understand.
Amelia’s legs gave way.
She sat down hard on the ground.
Will they come back? she asked.
The dogs? No. I put something in the air that they don’t like. The magic of the ancient roots. My grandmother taught it to me.
Then her voice changed.
The pursuers might try to reach you. So you must get away quickly.
What should I do?
Esther knelt before her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
Rest, then run again. But this time, run smart. I’ll show you the way.
Amelia slept for two hours on the dirt floor of the cottage.
When she awoke, dawn was creeping through the cracks.
Esther was sitting near the door, watching the trees.
In her hand was an old tool she used for forestry and self-defense.
She said without turning around, “They’ll be here soon. The dogs are back. The men will want to know why they came back without you.”
Amelia sat up.
Her body ached.
Her feet were swollen, scaly with dried blood.
She looked at them and felt tears welling up.
She pushed her inside.
How far is the river? she asked.
Two days if you hurry. Three if you don’t. But you’re not going to the river.
Amelia looked at her.
Why?
Because they know that fugitives head for it. They’ll put men there. You go to the river, you get caught, or worse.
So where to?
Esther finally turned around.
Her eyes were hard, but not hard on her.
North. There’s a settlement four days away. Free Black people. They don’t ask questions, they don’t answer anyone. But the road is difficult. Swamps, crocodiles, snakes. Most people don’t make it.
Most people don’t make it from there either, Amelia said quietly.
Esther smiled faintly.
You have a fire in you. You’ll need it.
Esther stood up and went to a corner of the hut. She pushed aside some loose wooden planks and took out a small bag. Inside were dried meat, a piece of stale bread, and a tin bowl of water. She handed it to Amelia.
It’ll last you two days if you behave yourself. After that, you’ll have to find your own food.
Amelia shook her head.
Esther sighed. So you’ll either learn quickly or you’ll tire quickly and won’t be able to finish the journey.
Esther knelt down next to Amelia and began wrapping her feet with strips of cloth she’d torn from an old blanket. The cloth was rough, but better than nothing.
Why are you helping me? Amelia asked.
Esther didn’t answer right away. She finished wrapping the cloth and sat back.
Because someone helped me once, a long time ago. And I swore that if I ever had the chance, I would do the same. That’s all.
She stood up and walked toward the door.
You have to leave now. They’re coming.
How do you know?
I can feel it.
Amelia stood up. Her legs were still shaking, but they held her up. She took the bag and slung it over her shoulder.
And you? she asked.
I’ll be fine. I always am.
Amelia walked toward the door, then stopped and turned around.
Thank you.
Esther nodded.
Don’t thank me now. Thank me when you arrive.
Amelia left the cottage and went out into the woods. The morning air was cold. The birds began to sing. For a moment, everything seemed strangely quiet.
Then
She heard voices.
Men’s voices. They were far away, but getting closer.
She ran.
Esther stood watching them until they disappeared among the trees. Then she went back inside the cabin and sat in the middle, waiting.
She had done this before.
She knew what was coming.
Fifteen minutes later, Cyrus Gunn arrived with five other men. They carried hunting gear and flashlights, even though it was early morning. They surrounded the cabin. Cyrus kicked the door open and went in.
He saw Esther sitting there, calm as if nothing had happened.
Where is she? he shouted.
Who? Esther asked.
Cyrus raised his hand threateningly and moved closer, pressing her to speak.
The girl. The dogs led her here. Where is she?
Esther looked at him like an angry child.
There’s no girl here. I’m alone. And I’ve lived here for years.
Cyrus looked around. He saw the hole in the floor. He moved closer and looked down at the cellar. It was empty.
He turned to face Esther.
You’re lying.
Believe what you will, but don’t make it a fact.
One of the other men stepped forward.
Cyrus, we’re wasting time. The girl’s been gone for ages. Let’s go.
Cyrus stared at Esther for a long time. Then he lowered his rifle.
If I find out you helped her, I’ll come back, and I won’t back down this time.
Esther said nothing.
