Sunny Larkspur's Arc

Chapter 3 of 6

The dust from Viktor's boots hadn't fully settled when Sunny heard the side gate bang open. She doesn’t even bother to put her straps back up over her shoulders and turns, wiping plaster off her hands. Petra came through the herb rows at a march, shoulders wide as a doorframe, forearms streaked with chalk from the pull-up bar behind the shed. She lived on Sunny's property, trained on Sunny's property, and had spent the last two mornings hunting the man who kept coming back to it. "Where is he," Petra said. Not a question. She held a length of broken axe handle in one fist. "Where's who, honey?" "The scarred one. Krauss. I saw boot prints at the gate. Fresh." Petra scanned the yard. Her eyes stopped on the herb box, on the broken knife handle in the dirt beside it. She walked over and picked it up. "His." Sunny's stomach dropped a notch. If Petra found Viktor on the road, she would break him in half before he cleared the fence line. That was the end of tomorrow. That was the end of the whole game. "Some tinker came through selling knives," Sunny said. "Cheap steel. Snapped in my hand. I tossed him out." Petra looked at the handle. Looked at Sunny. "You're lying." "I'm telling you what happened." "You're humming." Sunny stopped humming. She hadn't noticed she'd started. Petra stepped past her toward the front gate. Sunny moved. She put one palm flat on Petra's sternum and stopped her cold. Petra was strong. Sunny was stronger, and they both knew it from the last time they'd tested it over a stuck water pump. "Off the road, Petra." "He'll come back." "Then he'll come back to me. Not you." Petra's jaw set. The axe handle creaked in her grip. "You're protecting him." "I'm handling him." "He drew a map of my bunk in the dirt." "I know. I stood on it." Sunny kept her hand where it was. "He won't touch you. I broke his knife. He saw my girls. Trust me. He won’t bother you anymore." Petra didn't move. For a long second Sunny thought she'd have to lift her off the ground and carry her. Then Petra spat in the dirt, turned, and walked back toward the shed. She kept the broken knife handle. "If I see him," Petra said over her shoulder, "i won’t be as affectionate as you." "Mmm, let him make his choice." The shed door slammed. Sunny stood alone in the yard with her hands on her hips. She'd kept Petra off the road. She'd kept tomorrow alive. But Petra was watching now, actually watching, and Viktor was going to walk up that path at sunrise like a dog to a plate. Sunny would have to get him inside the house to her bedroom before Petra's eyes found him. She looked at the front gate and started counting hours.