7. Emma
EMMA
I knew this was coming. Ever since Tanner came over and mentioned the red truck, I knew it was only a matter of time before I opened up.
I can’t hide my fear any longer, and if I’m going to tell anyone, then I want it to be Brody.
He’s given me so many reasons to trust him, and as he squeezes my hand, his eyes fixed on mine, I feel a burst of courage.
I can do this.
“It’s hard to know where to start.” I take a deep breath, thinking back.
“My childhood was never exactly normal. I always knew we were different from other families. My parents didn’t send me to school, never took me to the doctor.
We didn’t have a TV or a phone. But it wasn’t a bad childhood.
My parents were a little eccentric, maybe—but they were loving.
” I try to hold in the tears, blinking them back.
“We went for picnics a lot. My father taught me how to play soccer. Mom read to me. And I could play with other kids in the neighborhood, even if I wasn’t allowed in their homes. ”
I take a moment to compose myself before continuing.
“My father was always paranoid about…well, everything. That’s why he never registered my birth—he said birth certificates were just another way for the government to track us. Everything was a conspiracy to him, and my mom bought it. His word was gospel to her.”
Brody is watching me, but I keep my gaze averted. If I look at him, I know I’ll fall apart.
“By the time I was ten, his paranoia had taken over completely. I wasn’t allowed outside anymore—he didn’t want the other children ‘corrupting’ me. He said we had to leave, move somewhere else. Somewhere people understood us. That’s when we moved to Scourfield.”
A lump rises in my throat. “It was a tiny community when we got there—just a few families living out in the desert. But it was already strict. We had to throw away most of our clothes when we arrived. Women had to wear dresses at all times, below the knee, in plain colors. For men, it was plain pants and long-sleeved shirts. I was already used to not having much freedom, but at Scourfield, I had none at all. Every second of the day was planned out and regulated. Every meal. Every word. I was so scared of saying the wrong thing that I pretty much stopped speaking.”
Brody curses under his breath, his hand squeezing mine. His touch reassures me, and I squeeze back before I continue.
“I was put to work pretty much straight away. The women cooked, cleaned, washed, and sewed clothing. The men cultivated the land and grew food or built houses for new families. When we weren’t working, we had lessons with the community leader, Isaac Foster.
It was like listening to Father’s rants, but magnified by a thousand.
Isaac taught us that society was doomed, poisoned by tech and lies and women who didn’t know their place.
Only our community could be trusted. Outsiders were dangerous; they would try to control us.
Destroy us.” I wince at the memories. Those long afternoons, sweltering in the heat of the desert as Isaac preached fervently, teaching us to see danger everywhere.
“I won’t bore you with all his beliefs,” I say with a sigh, “but we believed him. We truly believed we were the only people who understood the world, and that everyone outside Scourfield was corrupted. My parents believed it just as passionately as Isaac. They worshipped him, especially my father. But then Isaac got sick. He lost weight, started coughing up blood. But doctors weren’t trusted in Scourfield.
Isaac said all medicine was laced with behavioral agents and micro trackers, so he never went to the hospital.
It was quick. He was dead inside a couple of months…
and that’s when my father became our new leader. ”
Brody heaves a sigh, running a hand over his face. His frown is deeper than ever, his whole face simmering with a mixture of rage and sadness. I can feel myself faltering, but I know I need to finish my story. If I stop now, I might never start again.
“Power wasn’t good for him. It went to his head immediately.
Heck, he didn’t let me call him Father anymore; everyone had to call him The Leader.
He wanted to expand our community, encourage more families to join us.
We kept growing, and as the number of people grew, so did my father’s paranoia.
Nobody was allowed to leave Scourfield under any circumstances except for his inner circle.
They were all men, higher-ups in the community, so they had privileges the rest of us didn’t. ”
My throat hurts. This is the most I’ve spoken since I was a child, but it feels good to talk. To remember that I have a voice.
“So, that was my life,” I say. “Every day was the same routine, the same hard work. For a long time, I just accepted it. I guess even hell can feel like home once you’re settled.
But as I got older, I wanted more. I still had all these memories of life before Scourfield, and I missed it.
My father’s teachings weren’t enough to stop me from craving freedom, and as time passed, my unhappiness grew.
I became more and more disillusioned with life in Scourfield and the lessons we were taught.
It took years for me to break free from all those beliefs, and the whole time I had to pretend like everything was fine.
But eventually, I knew I had to escape.”
“How?” Brody asks, his voice hoarse. “How did you escape?”
My heart thumps as I think back to it—the terror I felt. I’d seen people get beaten for far less than trying to escape, and I knew being The Leader’s daughter wouldn’t save me if I was caught.
“Remember what I said about my father’s inner circle?” I ask. “Well, one of their privileges was that they all had cars. I knew I couldn’t escape on foot—Scourfield is in the middle of the desert, miles from anywhere. My only option was to steal a car.”
Brody nods, urging me to continue.
“All the car keys were kept locked up in a safe,” I say, “which made everything more complicated. Not to mention the fact that I’d never driven a car before.
But I’d seen Father drive when I was a kid, so I hoped I’d be able to figure it out.
My plan was pretty simple. Every Sunday morning, my father drove away from Scourfield to pick up provisions from the closest town.
He usually returned after a couple of hours.
So that morning, I went to the kitchen to help prepare breakfast as usual.
I said I wasn’t feeling well and even pretended to faint, so the women helped me back to bed.
Then I waited. When it was nearly time for him to return, I jumped out of bed and ran as fast as I could toward the sand track we used as a road.
Everyone was at breakfast, so nobody saw me.
I waited until I saw his car in the distance, then I sat by the side of the road, clutching my ankle, screwing my face up like I was in agony. ”
The memory is enough to make my heart jump. It was the scariest moment of my life, watching my father’s green Honda approach, knowing what I was about to do.
“The plan worked.” I let out a shaky breath.
“When he saw me by the side of the road, he stopped the car and got out. He was furious, asking me why I wasn’t at breakfast, what I was doing so far up the road.
But I just whimpered like I was in pain, trying to look convincing.
When he kneeled down to look at my leg, I jumped up and sprinted for the car.
My father chased me, but I got there first. The driver’s side door was still open, the keys still in the ignition, so I hopped in the car and locked the doors.
It took me a couple of tries to figure out how to make the car move, and the whole time, Father was shouting at me, banging on the windows.
He looked crazy, all red-faced and spitting.
But eventually, I got it started and put my foot down.
I made it to the highway and just kept driving north.
I finally ran out of gas up on the mountain, and… well, you know the rest.”
“And the red truck?” Brody asks.
I sigh. “One of my father’s henchmen is a guy called Paolo.
He drives a red truck. I thought maybe the truck Tanner saw could be him coming to look for me, or my father using his vehicle.
I hope it’s just a coincidence because I don’t see how they could have found me.
But I guess anything’s possible. They might be after me… ”
I lapse into silence, the weight of my story hanging in the air. Brody doesn’t speak for a long time. I can’t bring myself to look at him.
What if he wants me to leave?
I couldn’t blame him. I’m not normal. My life isn’t normal. Heck, it’s possible I have cult members hunting me down right now. Why would a mountain man living a quiet life in the woods want that kind of chaos around him?
“You know something?” he says eventually, his growly voice making me start. “I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met in my goddamn life.”
I blink at him. “Really?”
“Definitely.” He shakes his head, his features still slack with shock. “Holy shit, Emma, you escaped a cult. You stole a car and drove it hundreds of miles, ran away from everything you’ve ever known. That’s fucking incredible. I’m so proud of you for getting yourself out of there.”
His words fill me with a warm buzz of pride. I wasn’t trying to be brave; I was just trying to survive. But the admiration in Brody’s eyes makes it all feel worth it.
“Thank you,” I tell him softly. “That means a lot.”
“And if they really are coming after you,” Brody says, leaning across the table toward me, “then they’ll have to go through me first. I won’t let them touch you.”
Something feral flickers in his gaze, a savage kind of protectiveness. The intensity of it should scare me, but it doesn’t.
It makes me feel safe.
He makes me feel safe.