Born of Treasure (Treasure Chronicles Book 2) (19 page)

Amethyst paled, slumping onto the seat. “We’re jumping into the
river
?”

She should’ve been used to his ideas by then. “We have to.” He didn’t think twice about it. Would he have, before the tonic, before the running? Clark sighed. Hedlund had really come to hate him.

Or love him. There might have been a cliff instead of a nice, wet river.

“You either stay and get captured, or you jump with me.” He replaced his pistol. The others could stay, but he’d take Amethyst with him. When he held out his hand to her, she gulped, but crossed to him.

She interlaced their fingers and smiled, that trusting smile with excitement in her eyes. “Can I jump first?” Of course Amethyst, who couldn’t swim, would want to plummet. She never seemed to comprehend her limits.

“Climb up to the roof so we can jump together. I don’t want you to drown.” Clark glanced at the others. “Can you swim?”

Georgette nodded. “You have to, if you live out here.”

Amethyst gripped the windowsill and slid her body forward. Clark cupped her feet and clutched her legs, helping her twist around so she could climb atop the roof. He nodded to the Treasures left inside the car. He’d done his best for them. What mattered was making it. The government couldn’t hurt them if he wasn’t around.

Clark slid his body through the window, using the sill to get a leap onto the roof. He scrambled up and rolled to his knees. Amethyst stood with her arms held out for balance, the sunlight making her hair glow. Noises came from the port, a jumble of voices, but no one sounded panicked. No one shouted for back up or called his name.

He gripped her hand. The river would be cold, murky. Being so close to a city, no matter how small of one, people would pollute it with garbage.

“I love you,” he said, because there had been so few people in his life he could tell that to.

Amethyst laughed. She turned, with her hair blowing and her skirts billowing, and leapt off the train for the water, pulling him with her.

ater closed over Clark’s head, that first stab of cold that exploded around him, filling his ears and nose, seeping between his lips when his body gasped on reflex. Amethyst’s hand slipped from his as he sank, but he leaned to the right, grabbing a hunk of her dress. He scissor kicked his legs to propel himself upward, dragging her into his arms. She wrapped around him as he swam for the surface, gasping as his head broke free. She gasped beside him.

“All right?” he panted.

River water poured over her face and her hair clung to her features. Since she clung to him, he brushed it back for her.

“Brass glass,” she sputtered. “That was wild.”

A yelp sounded from above before a flash blurred by and a body splashed into the river near them. Georgette bobbed to the surface, wiping the water from her eyes. He’d never wanted to clap a woman on the shoulder before, but she would’ve deserved it. She took everything in stride.

Garth leapt next, followed by Zachariah. Clark swam toward the shore with Amethyst clenched around his neck so she wouldn’t drown. The others should follow him. Garth might be the head of the family, and he might’ve ventured west on an adventure, but he didn’t know about surviving as a wanted criminal.

Boats, ranging from row boats to show boats, bobbed at the shore, their ropes tied to the docks. Clark swam between two showboats and climbed into the rocks. Amethyst slid down, squeaking when her boot heels teetered on the jaggedness. Her fist closed around the back of his jacket.

“Hey, boyo.” A sailor leaned over the railing of the showboat on the right. A straw-hat shielded his eyes. “Fall overboard?”

“Yeah.” Clark scowled for effect. “That’s why you don’t go boating with a fellow you cheated at cards with once upon a time. Threw me and the family overboard. Whatcha make o’ that?”

The sailor laughed and disappeared back to his work. Clark helped Amethyst onto level ground before jogging back to pull Georgette out. Garth, gripping Zachariah’s arm, followed, his cheeks flushed despite the chill in the water.

Clark turned to look at the town. Brick and wooden buildings. Fences around tiny gardens. People strolling, lost in their own world, ignoring the world passing by.

Somewhere in another world, he had a different life, one where he didn’t worry about things. He did whatever he wanted and didn’t care that it would end in imprisonment or death.

He would never get that luxury.

A song played through Amethyst’s mind, transporting her back to last summer, when she’d gone to Mary’s family’s beach house a few hours from New Addison City. It had been a crazy time—Mary’s word for it. She’d invited everyone in their circle out for a week when her parents took a trip overseas.

Amethyst had painted purple streaks into her yellow curls. She’d coated her eyelids in glitter that matched her lips, giant silver loops in her earlobes. She’d worn a gold-painted corset with fringe that made up the skirt.

Mary’s father’s pit bulls had run rampant across the grounds, and the guests had dressed them up. Pearls had hung around their necks. They’d painted stripes down their backs. Someone had brought a pony onto the veranda and woven flowers into its mane.

The newspaper had come. The pictures had gone around New Addison papers for a month, and who knew how long across the rest of the country.

That hadn’t been crazy. Catapulting off a train into a river—
that
counted as crazy.

Amethyst laughed until her eyes burned. Tears seeped through her lids. Her clothes dripped onto the pebbles and her boots squished. “We’re insane!”

“Amethyst, hush,” her mother hissed.

“Why?” Amethyst spread her hands. “No one knows who we are. We could be anyone! We’re bloody paupers. Who in the name of gears cares?”

“Language.” Georgette sighed.

“I’m a
pauper
. I can say anything I want!”

“We have to keep moving,” Clark said. “The army will find us here if we stay.”

“Where do we go?” Zachariah asked.

“We go to New Addison. We find a way,” Garth ground out through clenched teeth.

Clark pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at her father. What would be best? To keep running or to go to the president?

“How much money is left?” Clark asked.

Garth patted the satchel slung over his head, strapped down by his jacket shoulder sash. “It’ll be wet, but I’ve got one-hundred left and Zachariah has another two-hundred.”

Amethyst snorted. “You have that much and I couldn’t get something to eat?”

“That’s hardly anything,” Zachariah said.

She rolled her eyes. She’d never paid attention to prices until Clark had whisked her away.

“We’ll have to stay the night here,” Clark said. “I’ll find us three inns. We’ll have to split up.”

“I want you.” Amethyst bobbed across the distance to grab his hand and swing it. No way was she getting stuck with her mother or Zachariah. Her father wouldn’t be too bad, but Clark would be best by far.

“Split the money with us,” Clark whispered. “Divide up however. We’ll walk around and I’ll find us a spot to meet at in the morning. I’ll give us new names, nothing at all like what we have. I’ll find us the best form of transportation, but we might have to travel at different times. We can’t be tracked as a group if we aren’t a group.”

Garth licked his lips, but his hand went to his satchel to untie the flap. “You tell us what to do. Get us to New Addison City and I’ll do the rest.”

“Will you really let my father take care of things once we reach the city?” Amethyst poked at the bed Clark had found for them in the creepiest inn Amethyst had ever seen. The lumpy bed, stuffed with rattling cornhusks, probably had bugs in it.

But, she could barely keep her eyes open. It didn’t look as hideous as she knew it should. Plus, if things were different and they had something grand, her parents would probably be thinking more about her, rather than themselves, and realize she and Clark were a little too cuddly. Amethyst giggled, swaying toward her husband.

“Yeah.” Clark peeled off his wet clothes and spread them on the floor, since the closet-sized room only had the bed as furniture. “Take off your clothes.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “You really feel like making love in that thing after the day we’ve had?”

He chuckled, cupping her cheeks between his hands. His lips brushed hers. “I want nothing more than to make love to you until you pass out, but we need to rest. We’re still drenched and we don’t want bugs getting in our clothes.”

Clark turned her around so he could unfasten the back buttons of her shirt.

“You really think everything will be settled soon?” She held her breath as his tongue flicked across the back of her neck.

“If not, I’ll fix it,” he whispered.