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Chapters (77)
  1. Cover
  2. Title
  3. Also by Silas House
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. Contents
  7. Part One
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. Part Two
  27. 1
  28. 2
  29. 3
  30. 4
  31. 5
  32. 6
  33. 7
  34. 8
  35. 9
  36. 10
  37. Part Three
  38. 1
  39. 2
  40. 3
  41. 4
  42. 5
  43. 6
  44. 7
  45. 8
  46. 9
  47. 10
  48. 11
  49. 12
  50. 13
  51. 14
  52. 15
  53. 16
  54. 17
  55. 18
  56. 19
  57. 20
  58. 21
  59. 22
  60. 23
  61. 24
  62. 25
  63. 26
  64. 27
  65. 28
  66. 29
  67. 30
  68. 31
  69. Part Four
  70. 1
  71. 2
  72. 3
  73. Epilogue: The Everything
  74. Acknowledgments
  75. About the Author
  76. About Algonquin
  77. Copyright

“They probably sure won’t listen to you now.”

“You’re probably right,” Asher replied.

“Are we going to dye our hair? And wear caps and sunglasses all the time?”

“What?” Asher laughed but he felt a troubling across his chest. He rolled his window up so they could talk without yelling. “No. No, we’re just driving down south for a few days. To figure things out.”

“This is my fault,” Justin said.

“No, Justin. How can you think that?”

“If I hadn’t found them men, during the flood.”

“No, buddy. It’s way more complicated than that.”

“It’s why Mom got mad at you.” Justin locked his eyes on Asher’s face. “Ain’t that right?”

“No, it’s not right. Listen to me, now. None of this is your fault.”

Justin turned away again and the highway hummed on below them. Asher rolled his window back down, not so much to get the air as to reintroduce the noise. There was nothing else to say.

Near Monteagle they coasted down the exit ramp and onto a state highway that climbed mountains and sliced valleys in half, wound up and down, over and around, twisty as a gray ribbon that had been dropped from the sky.

“You’re switching back and forth from the interstate to little country roads to throw the cops off?” Justin asked.

“You’ve been watching too many cop shows at your granny’s,” Asher said, and they laughed at the same time.

5

5

Along the road: tiger lilies growing in the ditch-lines. Flags, Asher’s mother had called them. He remembered her cupping one in her thin hand, a moment of real tenderness. Look how pretty, Asher. They’re perfect.

If only someone had gotten Asher away from his mother. Because a strange sort of brainwashing had happened after Luke went away. She had convinced him that Luke didn’t care about them, that she had been trying to save his soul from hellfire by pulling that gun on him. Tough love, she called it. The kind of love God had shown to the world when He flooded it, when only Noah had heeded His call. The kind of love God had shown Abraham when He had convinced him to kill his own son, Isaac, before stopping him at the last minute. The kind of love Job had suffered. She had convinced Asher that an Old Testament kind of love was the best kind of all. Pray with me now, Asher, pray with me for Luke’s soul that he’ll see the error of his ways. It did no good to talk to her about how Christ had brought them the New Testament. Instead, he prayed with her.

And in that way she had made him feel loved for a while.