Holding my breath, I wait for Lyric to make her decision. I will her to say yes. It makes so much sense to travel together when we'd be safer and less likely to be spotted. Yeah maybe it is a snap decision to make on the fly, but we'd be doing that the whole way to Canada and this was our best chance to make it there.

I wince at the welting bruise on her cheek. Although I can see why she would want to say no. I had known her for what, twenty minutes? And I'd already hurt her like three times. Not the basis for an orthodox... I don't want to use the word "friendship" since that's probably the last thing we're gonna have... partnership I guess. Anyway, I seriously doubt that the answer will be—

"Yes."

Startled to hear her voice I blink and look at her. "Huh?"

Lyric rolls her eyes, tightening her arms against her chest, almost like she's protecting herself. "Yes. We'll go together." She avoids my gaze, shifting her weight on her feet. "You're right, I really don't want to be caught. Just until we cross the state line."

Relief floods me. I realize I'm in a bad position when I'm glad I'm going to be spending a lot of personal time with the slave girl who threatened to kill me. "That-that's great."

She shrugs. "I wouldn't say that. So, what now? We're still lost, remember?"

I'd almost forgotten about that minor detail. I look around. The sun is midway in the sky, which means it's later than I thought. Walking a few steps away from Lyric I strain my ears, hoping for that sound. There it is. "This way." I nod my head at her before starting towards the noise.

"Do you know where you're going this time?" But she follows. I lead her down a path from the one we're on. We push through some shrubbery. Beneath my feet, the hard ground becomes soft and the bottom of my boot sucks a wet spot in the grass. Through the bushes, we walk out onto the bed of a creek. The clear water trickles like a quiet song over the rocks embedded in the bottom.

Lyric walks past me and bends down in front of the creek. She cups her hands, bringing the water up to her face. A break in the trees allows the sun to shine directly onto the spot where she's kneeling. The sun's glow lights up her hair like a halo. She shivers as the cold water touches her lips. I realize I'm staring and look away.

The creek seems to be flowing upstream, so our best bet would be to follow it until it joins up with a larger body of water.

Lyric stands and walks over to me. "Well?"

"We should follow the creek. It'll probably take us a couple of miles. If we're lucky, it'll lead us to a larger collection of water which should point us in the direction of a town or a city."

"And if we're not lucky?"

I push my bag onto my opposite shoulder to give it a rest. "We're no worse off than we were?"

Lyric kicks a rock with her boot. I notice her boots look new; briefly I wonder if she stole them from somebody. "That's great," she mutters.

"And we can always follow it and backtrack if we need to," I say.

She nods, her wavy hair pulling across her shoulders. "Yeah. Okay."

We follow the creek for miles. We don't say much to each other. The terrain becomes hard enough to navigate that even I don't feel like talking to fill the space. I'm thankful for the canopy of trees, I'm sure without them the air would be stifling, but this way the humidity is more muggy than hot. I glance back at Lyric every now and then. She keeps up easily and I guess she's used to moving even when she's tired and in all weather. That makes me feel a little sorry for her for some reason.

Sometime while we were walking, the creek turned into a stream and the stream into a slow-moving river. The sun begins to descend in the sky and that along with the fiery, tender soles of my feet convinces me this might be a good stopping point.

"Is stopping here good with you?" I ask Lyric.

"Yeah." She slides the bag from over her shoulder.

I drop into a sitting position, and work the pack off my back. I open and rummage around for the food inside. "Hungry?" I ask her.

"I have a little food." She pulls out an apple and a loaf of smashed bread.

"I've got some beef jerky. I know that's not everybody's favorite thing though."

"I'm a slave," she says, chewing her apple. "You don't get to be picky."

Feeling like I somehow put my foot in my mouth I motion to toss her a strip of jerky, but she shakes her head. "Got some of that too."

Instead I press my teeth into the jerky and take a bite. I don't remember it being this tasteless. Why did I grab so many of these? I pop the top off a canteen and try to wash the bland taste off of my tongue. Lyric isn't drinking anything. I'm not sure I had seen her drink any water all day.

"Hey," I wave my canteen at her. "You better not get dehydrated."

"The water must have been in the other bag."

"You had another bag?"

A look of annoyance crosses her face, before she leans back on her palms and stares up at the sky. "No."

From this angle, I can clearly see the bruise from where my boot hit her face. She doesn't seem like the kind of person who likes to accept help, but I wish she would at least accept my apology without the look of disgust. "Here."

She catches the other canteen I toss her.

"You'll probably need that if you don't want to pass out on the road tomorrow." She nods and after opening the top takes a gulp. She leans forward and works the boots off her feet. I see blisters on her soles before she sits cross legged.

"So... what's your story?"

She looks up from smoothing a blanket over the forest floor. "My story?"

"Like why are you running away?"

Lyric lifts her eyebrow at me, giving me a look that says I'm the most ignorant and stupid person on the planet. "I'm a slave. I didn't like it. I left."

"Right." I pull at a blade of grass next to my hand. "Why are there slave hunters after you though? You must have done something pretty bad if they're actually putting out a reward for you. I mean usually—,"

"What about you?" Lyric interrupts. "What did you do that has you the most wanted man in the state?"

I swallow as images of Billy's lifeless face flood my face. I had been repressing thoughts of him the whole time I'd been on the run, but it doesn't feel like he's going to be ignored anymore. My stomach rolls and I know have to get away from here for a second. I climb clumsily to my feet. "Uh, I'm going to get some firewood to burn." I stumble away.

A few minutes later, out of earshot of Lyric my stomach empties itself of its sparse contents. When I'm dry, I sit back up and wipe my chin on my sleeve. The wind rustles through my messy blonde hair, drying the sweat on my face. Night crickets and frogs start up their nocturnal chant. I rest my back against the rough bark of a tree. Other than passing out on the ground last night this was the first time I'd spent a full night out in the woods since that camping trip with Mason and Father when I was twelve—and I had hated every second of that. 

So, this is what it had come to. I'm not surprised, Father had all but predicted it. He hadn't actually said I was going to kill someone, but the way he treated me you think he already saw this coming. I think of Kalypso again and I wonder what she thinks of me now. Most likely she thinks I'm a murderer and I probably won't ever get to see her again. I know her dad definitely won't let me anywhere near her.

When I get back to the campsite with my arms full of twigs and branches, Lyric is already striking a match to a pile of sticks and wood. "You were taking too long and I had matches in my bag," she says without looking up. I should be grateful that out of all the escaping black girls I could have run into in the woods she's probably the most resourceful, but her attitude is starting to tick my nerves. It's almost like she's going out of her way to make me feel inferior to her.

"One of us should stay awake to keep a lookout," she tosses a twig into the smoldering fire. "I'll take the first watch."

Maybe it's because the reality of the bloody situation hit me, or that I'm wrestling morally with what happened with Billy, but I want to wipe that smug look off her face. "Yeah, you do that. And while you're at it, keep an eye on your boots. I'm sure you know the kind of people who don't mind taking what doesn't belong to them." Casting an accusing look at her shoes, I turn my back to her and rip the sleeping blankets out of my backpack. When I lay down I realize with a disappointed pang, seeing the indignation in her eyes didn't make me feel any better.

~

A/N: I've been procrastinating so hard this week lol. I need to finish this story... Vote and comment please!