Nearly a half-mile in, the trail widened a bit, and Samuel turned to face her. "Miz Dolly, you go on to the mill. I'll go back to..." his immense shoulders shook as he looked at her.
"No, Sam, we'll go back together."

When their feet found the trail again, almost an hour later, Elizabeth was shaking. The entire trip Samuel could hear her chattering teeth and ragged breath, and had no doubt she was close behind, yet he occasionally cast the unneeded glances over his shoulder to see her, yet the small hope that he might see something in her face that wasn't black and close to death was quashed each time he looked. They continued up the trail, along the wash, and along the Tombigbee, each lost in thought and forward movement, when they heard the faint echo of a voice calling from the Miller farm. Samuel spun like a snake, narrowing his eyes and looking back down the trail. "They ain't gonna give us no peace, Miz Dolly." as he struggled to move past her. "Here," he handed her one of his pistols, "get on up there to Sawyer's and I'm gonna finish this once and for all." Elizabeth didn't argue. The world had taken on the false clarity of fever, every edge sharpened in her sight, so that it appeared the trees were cut out and laid on top of each other in a picture.

It took numerous tries, and all of her strength to climb the bank near the mill. Adam sat in his post in the trees, unable to move to help her. Some small part of his mind refused to believe that Elizabeth Miller and all of her brass, was reduced to a filthy, shivering pile of flesh and bones in the rain. He shook free of his thoughts, and slid down from behind the trees, reaching the mill door roughly the same time she did. She looked at him oddly, as if she'd never met him, yet the pistol hung barrel-down in her hand. He took her inside the mill, and thinking Damn the riders, he squatted down and built a roaring fire in the stove. He turned to see her, standing still and lost in the middle of the room, and he went rummaging through some wooden crates, returning with dry clothing. He gently took the pistol out of her hand, and gave her the clothes before he turned around to tend to the fire.

When he looked again, she stood in the same place, clutching the pile of clothes to her chest. The blank look on her face had been replaced by one that held the smallest hint of embarrassment. It had been a long time since Adam Thoroughgood's wife, or any woman for that matter, had stood before him, but he knew modesty when he saw it. "Well, that fire looks about right." he muttered "I'm thinking I'll go check around to make sure you wasn't followed..." He returned a few minutes later to find her in his cast-off shirt and patched leggings, sitting on a wooden crate, leaned low to the fire. She was briskly rubbing her hair with one of the burlap sacks in an effort to dry it, and she stopped as she caught sight of him.
"Any sign of Samuel?" she asked
"No ma'am." Adam replied. He pulled his chair over to the window and took turns watching the trail and her. He started telling her about the attack on the mill the evening before, the death of Crump, and the mysterious absence of Matt Stanford.
"I saw him..:" she broke in . "He was at my place. Jesus, Adam, they must have gone along the whole line..." She told him of the night at the Miller farm, and Adam watched her shake in fear and anger as she talked. It was more than simple fever that darkened the skin beneath her eyes and brightened the cheeks on her pale face to a rosy red. He rose, took the blanket from his bed, gave it a few shakes, and placed it around her shoulders. "...and they were dead, Adam. All of them...and I can't see how anyone could have made it out of the barn..."

Elizabeth sat, staring at the flames a while longer. She pulled the blanket tight and thought to herself that no matter how much fire there was in the world, she was sure she'd never be warm again. Adam's voice finally broke through to her: "Missus Miller, we can't wait much longer for him. Our visitors from yesterday are sure to be back, and we need to move along. If...when...Samuel gets here, he'll know to move along to the cavern. We have to go." They quickly doused the fire and saddled the horses. Elizabeth constantly stared down the trail for any sign of Samuel.

It wasn't until they reached the main road that they saw a horse trotting up to meet them. It snorted heavily from exhaustion and the load of two riders. Elizabeth could make out Samuel's bulk jouncing along behind, but the first rider? It couldn't be? As the horse drew alongside hers, Tom Eaton nodded curtly, "Ma'am."
Shocked and floundering, she realized his was the voice that had carried up the river to them that morning. She answered him sharper than she intended to: "I'm surprised that Samuel didn't kill you."
To which he answered brusquely, "He very nearly did." before urging his tired horse up the road and alongside Adam's.