“I want to learn!”
A child pushed his way through the crowd. Lukas. Geoff’s son.
“My mother and father died from the plague, but I didn’t. I’m strong. I want to fight.” The boy rested a fist on his hip. “I won’t be a coward like the rest of you. My Papa taught me to be brave. Didn’t yours?”
Bastian held back a laugh. Children always spoke the truth, especially when it was inconvenient for everyone else. He placed a hand on Lukas’ shoulder. “I accept your help, Lukas. Thank you for joining me.”
“You can’t fight with a child!”
Bastian couldn’t see which woman voiced her concern. It didn’t stop him from responding. “Why not? My daughter saved me out there. She’s younger than Lukas. Obviously the children do have something to contribute. Without her, I might have died. The beast would have torn me apart, just like it did Vinya and countless others from our village who were sent out over the years.
“If you want to escape Hutton’s Bridge and keep your lives intact, then give me time. Learn to fight.”
A man pushed his way through the crowd. Tom, the butcher. “How much time? People are dying here. The plague is spreading and we don’t know how to contain it. We could all die within weeks.”
“You will die if you go out there.” Bastian caught the man’s eyes. Neither of them looked away.
“You’re alive.”
“I was lucky. Please. Be patient. I will teach you what you need to know.”
Tom rubbed his temples. Bastian could see the exhaustion in his eyes. Drooping and bloodshot, Tom’s eyes carried a tale of hardship. The sheltered world of Hutton’s Bridge was slowly collapsing around them. There were no good solutions. Yet, Bastian wanted so badly to help them before they marched out to their deaths.
Children wouldn’t stand a chance against the beast. They’d mistake its call for their mother, wander off into the fog, and never return. Families would be ripped apart.
“Stay.” Bastian pleaded with them. He gripped Lukas’ shoulder even tighter. The boy’s strength fed his own conviction.
Whispers spread through the crowd. Finally. They were seeing Bastian’s pleading made sense.
“But if we stay, we will continue to be exposed to the disease.” A woman stepped forward. She clutched a child in her arms. “Even a day can make the difference between life and death.” She moved in a slow circle, giving everyone a chance to see her face. “I vote we leave. Cowardice has kept us trapped here our whole lives.”
Bastian looked to Udor. He’d been oddly silent the whole time. When Bastian, Tressa, and Connor left, he’d been the most vocal. Now he didn’t utter a word.
“Udor, what do you think of all this?” Bastian asked. He knew he was taking a risk. The townspeople trusted Udor’s word, despite his selfish motives and lying heart. Few ever stood up to him.
Udor rubbed the tip of his gray beard. “I want to speak with you in private, Bastian. Will you allow us this?” he asked the crowd.
Knowing they really didn’t have a choice, the people parted, forming a path to the front door of the town hall. Bastian followed him in. Tressa had told him what took place in here right after her great grandmother died. Bastian’s fists trembled as he fought the urge to punch Udor.
Before the door could close all the way, Udor asked, “Where is Tressa?”
Bastian sighed and leaned up against the wooden wall. “I don’t know.” Lying wouldn’t do him any good. If Udor had any hand in helping him find Tressa, Bastian would give over his very life. “She entered the fog hours before I did. I didn’t find her in there.”
“And your wife?”
“Don’t you already know her fate?” Bastian had a hard time believing the news hadn’t made it to the leader of the town yet.
“I want to hear it from you.”
“She’s dead. Eaten by a beast.”
“Did you try to save her?”
Bastian sat down at the table. “As much as I could have tried. I couldn’t see her. When the beast attacked, I chose to save Farah instead.”
Udor nodded. “If it had been Tressa instead of Farah?”
Bastian wrung his hands together. “I’m glad I didn’t have to make that choice.”
“It’s as I suspected, then. You do love her.”
Bastian’s eyes narrowed. He stood up, letting the chair clatter to the floor. “That is none of your business.”
“But it is, especially if she feels the same about you.”
“I don’t speak for Tressa.” Bastian was growing more irritated by the second. Udor had no right to ask him such personal questions.