Free Never Too Late by Michael Phillips Page A

now she was getting closer to the reality every day.
    They moved slowly north for a month, passed from guide to guide in the night, traveling six to eight miles a day, and crossing into North Carolina, though they did not know it.
    All seemed to be going well. But then a night came that changed Seffie’s future forever.
    As they went they had been vaguely aware of dogs barking in the distance for some time. This in itself was not so unusual, but on this night the sound was persistent and, they began to realize, growing gradually louder.
    Their guide quickened their pace, pausing every few minutes to listen, muttering words of concern to himself, then urging them to hasten once again. No one else said a word. They sensed their danger.
    For several hours they hurried through the night asquickly and quietly as they were able, though the going was difficult. There were woods, streams, cultivated fields, a town or two to avoid, and uneven terrain most of the way. The strain and fatigue began to show, and gradually Seffie lagged behind.
    â€œCome on . . . come on!” urged their conductor. “Hit ain’t dat much further, but dem blamed dogs is still out dere! We gots ter move!”
    He paused and listened again.
    â€œMy brother’s waitin’ jes’ yonder at da ribber,” he said. “He gots him a little oar boat. Hit’s ’bout anudder mile. We git ter him an’ we’s safe. Da ribber moves along swif’ fo a good spell an’ dere ain’t no bridges fo miles, an’ by da time we’s on da far bank, we’s be miles from whoeber’s been doggin’ our steps all night.”
    â€œI don’t know ef I kin make it anudder mile,” groaned Seffie. “I’s so tuckered I’s about ter drop.”
    â€œYou kin do it. We gots ter do it. Anudder half hour an’ we’ll be sittin’ in dat boat floatin’ along all da way ter yo nex’ station.”
    Twenty minutes later they came to a clearing and had to cross a road. They paused and listened. It seemed safe.
    â€œDis way,” said their guide, leading onto the road as the others did their best to keep up. Seffie’s legs felt made of lead and she could hardly pick up her feet as she shuffled along. The endless journey over the past year had taken off a few excess pounds but had not exactly trimmed her down. She was still a very large young woman, and the effort of this night’s flight had nearly taxed her to the limit of her physical endurance.
    â€œCome on . . . dis way!” urged their guide yet again.But Seffie could tell she was falling further and further behind.
    Suddenly the sound of riders could be heard galloping toward them.
    â€œOff da road . . . into da trees!” shouted the guide. “Hit’s jes’ a short run ter da boat. We kin make it!”
    He and the other three were into the woods and sprinting for the river within seconds.
    Seffie struggled along the road to keep up. Behind her the pounding of hooves grew louder.
    Just as she left the road where she had seen the others disappear, she heard a shout behind her.
    â€œThere’s one of them!”
    A gunshot exploded in the night. In terror Seffie screamed and broke into what for her was an all-out run into the trees. She could only hope she was going the same direction her comrades had taken. But she could hardly lift her feet off the ground as her lungs gasped for air.
    Behind her, two or three horses galloped up and stopped. Their riders quickly dismounted. Booted feet ran off the road, spreading out as they listened for movement.
    â€œThis way—they’re over here!” came a shout.
    Another gunshot echoed.
    â€œStop, all of you!” cried a white man’s voice. “You can’t get away. We’ve got you now!”
    But Seffie hardly heard the words. Her dress was nearly drenched and sweat was falling from her face in great drops as she struggled on.
    She came