Out Through the Attic Read Free Page B

this turns to Hell.” She put her hands on the side of his face and started into his eyes. “Can you do that for me?”
    “Yes, ma’am!”
    “Now get going!” she said. She turned him around and pushed him out the door. She closed it quietly and then turned back to Billy. “I’ll go make sure they have everything down into the tunnel. You go get your things. You might not be able to come back for a while, at least not until this is whole thing settles down.”
    “Abigail, I—”
    “We haven’t got all night,” she said as she walked towards the pantry.
    He closed his mouth and watched her disappear down the stairs.
    Billy had to force his legs to move. He headed upstairs to his room and looked around. He didn’t have anything that he really needed. All his memories were tied to the farm, not things that could be put on a shelf. He fought back tears as he threw together some of his clothes and stuffed them into a sack.
    He opened the top drawer of his dresser and pulled out a thick stack of bills tied together with a leather shoelace. It was over eight-hundred-dollars. He shoved it into a pocket and headed back down to the kitchen where Abigail was quickly filling a sack with the squeezed lemon halves.
    Without looking she said, “They’re all headed down the tunnel.” She cinched the sack up and threw it through the pantry down the stairs. “No evidence,” she added, turning to him.
    He nodded his head. “Good thinking.” His voice was almost a whisper.
    Abigail stepped up to him and reached into her apron. She pulled out leather billfold thick with money. “Don’t say a word,” she said as she slipped it into his pocket and led him into the pantry. “Just get them out of here, Billy. No matter what happens . And promise me you won’t come back unless you hear from me.”
    They could hear Anderson’s machines rolling up the road, not more than a quarter mile away.
    Billy gulped. They both knew the horrible risk she was taking. Anderson might not care whether she was innocent or not. He might still want to punish a woman who had freed her own slaves.
    “I promise,” he said as tears rolled down his cheeks.
    “I’ll send a telegram to the Evansville office when it’s safe, and I want you to sink the Freedom once you get there. If men like Anderson got their hands on it, they could use it to terrible purpose. You can always build another.” She smiled weakly and then paused, looking up and searching his eyes. “I never could have done all this without you.” She kissed him once on the cheek and pushed him gently through the door.
    Her eyes never left his as she closed the door.
    Billy turned and walked slowly down the stairs, half of him fighting to rush back and stay with her. But he knew what he had to do.
    Tyrell had left him a single lantern the bottom of the stairs, so he picked it up. Stepping into the tunnel, he looked around, remembering those who had passed through. He could almost hear their voices. He broke into a jog, ducking his head under the low support beams and made his way through the tunnel.
    He came to an open door, the light of a single lantern flickering beyond. He found them all there, huddled in silence as the river lapped up against the hull of the Freedom. There was only a four-foot gap between the outer walls of the boat house and the river, but it was more than they would need.
    Stairs rose to his left, topped by a single door, and he could see torchlight flickering faintly through it. The rumble and screech of Anderson’s machines sounded like they were right on top of him.
    “Kill the lantern,” Billy said. He turned his own down and threw it into the river. Tyrell shut off the other, and it followed the first with a splash.
    “Everything’s onboard, Billy,” Tyler said. “Where’s Miss Abigail?”
    “She’s not coming,” he replied, his words hollow and faint.
    There were whispers from the dark faces around him.
    Billy looked around at the frightened