Free The Way We Fall by Megan Crewe Page B

we can get there on time.”
    “Emmett, you’re smarter than this,” Mom said. “Come in and have lunch with us. Who knows what could happen down there? Think about Meredith!”
    He nodded sadly. “I am thinking about Meredith,” he said. “Think about what could happen to her—to your kids—if we let those government bastards leave us here!”
    Mom tried to stop him, but he stomped to the car and peeled off. Her mouth went tight.
    “I can’t just let him go,” she said. “Not when he’s in a mood like that.”
    I imagined Mom being swallowed up in the protest. “I’ll come with you,” I said. “In case someone needs to keep an eye on Meredith.” But mostly I wanted to keep an eye on her.
    Mom didn’t even stop to call up to Drew. She grabbed a face mask for herself, shoved one at me, and ran to the car.
    For the first time in what seems like forever, there were people on the streets. Everyone was going to see the shipment come in. Some were carrying signboards with messages like end the quarantine now, as if that was going to change the government’s mind.
    Parked cars clogged the roads around the harbor, so we pulled over to the sidewalk a few blocks away and jogged the rest of the distance. My face mask made it hard to catch my breath. I heard coughing in the crowd, and we passed a woman who’d stopped to scratch her knee. My lungs started to burn. All I wanted to do was go back to the car and leave. But Mom caught sight of Uncle Emmett’s truck and hurried on. I was afraid if I took my eyes off her for a second, I’d lose her.
    A boat had just pulled in—our ferry. Several men and a couple of women in military uniforms stood in a semicircle on the asphalt between the crowd and the dock. A few more leaned against the railing of the ferry. They all wore the bulky masks I’d seen on the news, and each carried a rifle. I wondered if they were going to escort the government people through town to make sure no one tried to hijack the food. Or maybe the soldiers were the people who’d come to distribute it.
    The crowd surged forward as the boat docked. So many people were shouting, I couldn’t make out a single word. They were waving their signs and their hands, but they parted when the soldiers motioned for them to clear a way.
    Then Uncle Emmett lunged out in front, dragging Meredith by the hand. Mom pushed through the crowd even faster. The bodies pressed harder and harder against us as we forced our way forward. A cold breeze came off the water, but sweat was trickling down my back.
    There was still so much yelling around us I couldn’t hear what Uncle Emmett was saying. He gestured to himself, to the mainland, and to Meredith, who just looked terrified. The soldiers shook their heads and said something back. You could tell they wanted Uncle Emmett to move. But he stood firm, his voice rising until I could hear a few phrases: “killing children” and “live with yourselves” and things like that.
    The soldiers didn’t seem to care. One of them grabbed Uncle Emmett’s arm to pull him off to the side. He wrenched away and shoved the soldier hard enough to send him stumbling backward.
    A gunshot snapped through the air, so sharply my ears started ringing. And Uncle Emmett fell too.
    Mom gave a little gasp and reached toward him. At the same moment, the people around us shifted forward, the yells getting louder, the voices more furious. I lost sight of Uncle Emmett and Meredith as the crowd rushed past them. I heard another shot, maybe two—it’s a blur in my mind.
    When we reached them, Mom almost tripped over Uncle Emmett’s leg where he was sprawled on the ground. Blood soaked the front of his shirt. Meredith huddled against him, her head bent next to his, saying, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” over and over. A gray undertone was creeping across his dark skin, and a bubble of spit quivered on his lips.
    For a second, the world seemed to spin. I closed my eyes and opened them again, and the