Bury the Living (Revolutionary #1) by Jodi McIsaac

Author:Jodi McIsaac [McIsaac, Jodi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503935518
Amazon: B018E89906
Publisher: 47North
Published: 2016-09-05T23:00:00+00:00

She awoke with a sharp jostle, her whole body aching. The gray sky moved above her, and her stomach turned. She closed her eyes again.

“Nora!” Pidge’s voice whispered in her ear. “Wake up!”

Nora opened her eyes again. Pidge was leaning over her. She struggled to get her bearings. Her head was lying on something soft and warm—Pidge’s lap. The sky seemed to be gliding by above her. “Where—?”

“Shh,” Pidge whispered again. “We’re in a Free State lorry.”

“How did they—?”

“It’s my fault. You passed out. I tried to drag you across the field, but they followed. I’m so sorry.” Pidge’s eyes were red rimmed and tight with worry.

Nora stared at the moving clouds. “And . . . ?” She didn’t want to say Thomas’s name out loud.

“I don’t know.”

Nora struggled to sit up. Her head felt as though it had been lit on fire. Something was wrapped around it. She reached up to touch it, but Pidge grabbed her hand. “Don’t. It’s soaked through with blood. They wouldn’t give me any bandages.” It was then that Nora noticed great strips had been ripped from Pidge’s skirt. She also realized they were not alone in the back of the lorry. A soldier sat facing them, his rifle splayed across his lap. Another, his shoulder neatly bandaged, leaned against the side of the carriage, eyes closed. A long, still figure lay in the center of the lorry bed, covered with a blanket.

“Pidge?” Nora moaned. “Who is under there?”

“That’s Commandant Kirwin, ye hoore,” the bandaged soldier answered, rousing. “Thanks to you, a good man died today.”

“A good man wouldn’t have attacked two unarmed women,” Nora muttered. “Where’s the man who shot you?” The soldier with the rifle looked at her with deadened eyes.

“Shut up. You’re not supposed to talk.”

“Is he dead?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” He glowered at her for a moment longer, then trained his glare on the passing countryside.

“Where are you taking us?”

“Hell.”

“Nora, shh.” Pidge wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. “They’re taking us to prison, no doubt. Or the barracks. But for God’s sake, don’t give them cause to hit you again.”

Nora sank back against Pidge’s shoulder. “Did he cut it all off?” she murmured.

“Most of it, I’m afraid. He was none too gentle, as I’m sure you felt. Cut you in several places. There was so much blood. I couldn’t stop him, I—” Pidge stopped, her words choked off by silent tears.

“It’s grand, Pidge,” Nora said, closing her eyes again. “We’ll figure it out. What about your family?”

“I don’t know. I’m just glad they weren’t at home.”

They embraced each other in the jolting lorry. Nora could tell from the sounds that they were leaving the countryside, but she didn’t want to open her eyes. Had Mr. and Mrs. Gillies and Stephen been rounded up, or would they return to a house splattered with blood? Would they know Pidge had just been arrested, not killed?

And Thomas . . . If the soldiers had followed Pidge, that meant only one thing.

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