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used to
cover all their eyes. I couldn’t stand to have to look at their
eyes while I was doing what I was doing. I take the left over
whiskey and pour it all over their clothes, glad for the darkness
hiding the worst of their wounds from me. Finally I am
done.
    I stand back, wipe the sweat out of my
eyes, just stare at the moon for a bit. I know what I got to do
now, I just cain’t bring myself to do it. The moon is in its
shrinking stage.... a waning moon. I smile a bit ‘cause I can hear
gra’das voice in my head.
    “ Now when the moon is waning
Tara it’s the best time for planting the taters and when it’s a
waxing moon then it’s time for the corn. You gotta remember that if
you want a good harvest.”
    “ I’ll remember gra’da,” I
whisper at the moon.
    “ Good girl,” it says back in
gra’das raspy voice. “Now finish what you started.”
    “ Aye, I will,” I
say.
    I stand alone in the dark. It’s quiet.
So quiet I can hear my own heart thumping. These past few hours I
been occupied, so busy with what I was doing I ain’t had time to
think. But now, with the quiet all around me, things are just
jumping into my head.
    Why gra’da? I think. Why did you just
save me? Why didn’t you at least try and save the others or
yourself? Why did you hide me and nobody else? Gra’das last words
to me echo in my head.
    “ You must stay
alive.”
    Why? So as to feel all this pain and
grief? I can feel the ache in my chest welling up again and I take
a few deep breaths to stop it. The time for crying is over Tara, I
scold myself. Do what you got to do.
    I strike my flint and light the torch
I’d made earlier from Shelly’s wood table leg and some of the
whiskey soaked cloth strips. I ain’t even considered using the
other torch for fear some evil would come from it. But I hesitate
before I light the kindlin’.
    There’s something I should be saying, I
think. But nuthin comes to mind. If Ben were here he would know
what to say. But Ben ain’t here, it’s just me. Why I should be
standing here while everybody else is gone…it ain’t
right!
    “ I’m sorry,” I say finally.
My voice is scratchy and raw from my crying. “I’m sorry that I
couldn’t help save y’all. I’m sorry those things came from the sand
lands and killed y’all and I don’t even know what for. You were
good people...proper people. Gra’da… you were a fine gra’da…the
best a girl coulda ever wanted. And I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a
proper burial. I’m gonna miss you….real bad!”
    I stop talking ‘cause my throat hurts
again. I start setting aflame the pockets of kindlin’.
    “ May the gods show you mercy
and grant you peace.”
    I stay just long enough to make sure
the fire catches. I throw the torch into the flames. The moon will
be bright enough for walking and a lit flame out in the sand lands
would just draw unwanted attention, from what I ain’t sure but
don’t want to take no chances. Waiting for morning was not an
option. There is no way in dirt dog hell I am gonna stay another
night in this place of death.
    I pick up my slingbag, heave my bow and
quiver over my shoulder and start walking. East, along the
riverbank like gra’da had told me to do. I ain’t ever heard of
Littlepass but if he said I’d best go there then that’s what I do.
If I’m gonna stand a chance of finding Ben and the others then I’m
going to need help. Lily, he had said. Find a healer named Lily.
How hard could it be?
    I keep walking, a steady pace, one foot
in front of the other. I don’t look back. I ain’t ever coming back.
Ben was right all along. Rivercross was dead. Time to go
elsewhere.

The Sand
Lands
     
    Mid-afternoon, eight days into the sand
lands. Eight days of nuthin but sand and wind and the burning cruel
sun. Eight days of nuthin to distract me from the awful thoughts
running through my head. Replaying the deaths of my kin over and
over again, wondering if there was something…anything I could have
done