365 Days At War

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365 Days At War Page 2

by Nancy Isaak


  “Over there!” said Jacob. “Up in that tree at the end of the field…that’s where the archer is!”

  We were all huddled together at the gate, trying to figure out our next step. There were guys shooting at us from behind, a crowd of screaming kids all around, and now—someone taking potshots with a bow and arrow.

  “Let’s head to those buildings over there,” I suggested. “We get around that corner and we should be out of everybody’s line of fire.”

  Thwack…an arrow whizzed by my head.

  “Kaylee!” yelled Jacob.

  With a soft thunk, the arrow connected with someone behind us and a cry of fury and pain filled the air. We spun around to find Brandon, staggering toward us, the arrow sticking out of his right shoulder.

  Thwack…another arrow whizzed by.

  This one landed a foot lower than the first, passing straight through Brandon’s waist and coming out the other side.

  Thwack…another arrow.

  It was like watching in slow motion—Brandon collapsing to the ground as the arrow passed within millimeters of his right ear. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the sight, it all seemed so bizarre. It took Jacob grabbing me by the hand and pulling me away before I came to my senses.

  “We have to go, Kaylee…NOW!”

  * * * *

  She must have seen us trying to escape, because Orla was waiting for us on the other side of the building. There was some sort of small semi-automatic in her hands and she was holding it straight out, aiming it in our direction.

  “Get down!” she yelled. “All of you—get down on the ground.”

  With the exception of Jay, we all skidded to a stop.

  “You, too, Jay,” warned Orla. “I’ll shoot you…I swear I will!”

  But—Jay didn’t stop.

  Instead, she stalked up to Orla and yanked the gun right out of her hands. “Idiot…you’ve still got it on safety.”

  And then Jay did something that I would never have expected from her. She turned the gun around and smacked Orla in the side of the head. It wasn’t hard enough to knock her out—but it definitely sent her stumbling, screeching in pain.

  “You bitch!” Orla snarled, wiping at the angry tears that had suddenly appeared in her eyes.

  “Whatever,” Jay mumbled, snapping the semi-automatic off of safety. Then, she turned to look at me, holding the weapon up high.

  “Finally got my gun, Kaylee!” she said with pride.

  * * * *

  “Over here!” called a desperate voice. “Kaylee, hurry!”

  It came from the indistinct shape of a girl—hidden in the shadows—motioning us toward a pathway that wound itself through the high school.

  I knew that—if we followed the pathway to its end—we would come out near the main office.

  We started running in that direction.

  Halfway there, I finally recognized the girl. “Ohmigod…it’s Cammie!”

  * * * *

  Cherry reached our little redheaded librarian first and encased her in a bear hug. I quickly joined in, squeezing hard.

  “You’re alive!” I cried, relieved. “I was so worried that you might not have made it to Malibu.”

  “Guys,” Cammie grunted, “we really don’t have time for this. Plus, you’re making it difficult for me to breathe.” We let her go and she took in a deep breath, gasping. “That dude’s apparently got horses on the way. Come on…we need to go meet them.”

  I turned to look at ‘that dude’—a small, wiry kid standing a few feet away; he was about 13-years old, with a mischievous grin and what looked like a homemade cast on his arm. Jacob was presently marveling at the cast with one hand, the other clapping the kid on the back.

  “Yeah, Porter made the arm cast,” the kid was telling Jacob. “Hurt like a mother, but he and Connor figured it out in the end.”

  “Porter?!” It was Jude, stepping forward, her face filled with sudden hope. “Porter McIntyre?”

  Jacob turned toward her, grinning. “Yeah, Jude…Porter survived. He’s with our tribe now.”

  Jude’s reaction was immediate. She thrust a fist up toward the heavens and cried out to the sky above her, “Thanks, dude…I owe you one!”

  JACOB

  She lives…Kaylee is alive!

  For 365 days, I have struggled to accept that Kaylee would never again be part of my life—my future. I relegated my green-eyed girl to my dreams, a forever memory to cherish and ponder along with what if’s and what could have been’s.

  She’s thinner now—all skin and bones. There are bruises and scars all over her body, at least the parts that I can see. It’s obvious that Kaylee’s been through some horrible times. Eventually, I will ask her for the details but—for now—I am satisfied just to have her with me.

  Well—in the same general area.

  * * * *

  How weird is it that I’m trying to figure out how to ask Kaylee out?!

  I mean, the world has changed completely—upended and topsy-turvy—and I’m still that shy, awkward doof, too nervous to ask the girl I’ve loved for so long out on a date.

  But—think of it from my point of view.

  Kaylee and I have both been through terrible, horrible tragedies and chaos. Our parents have disappeared, we’ve been kept prisoner, tortured and almost killed. There are Crazies out there even now, actively hunting us, wanting us dead—or worse.

  So—considering all that—how do you ask a teenage girl out on a date, and where in the world would you even take her if she said yes?

  Needless to say…I’m still working on it.

  * * * *

  One of the good things that has happened, is that Kaylee and I have decided to write our journals together. I mean, we’ll still be writing separately, but we’re going to consolidate—put our journals together—so that someone reading them in the future will have a better idea of what actually happened to both the guys and the girls after the event.

  And how amazing is it that Kaylee has turned out to be a writer just like me?

  She’s let me read a few pages of what she’s written. Her words remind me of my mother’s writing, they’re so filled with compassion and heart.

  But, it also kills me to read about the horrible things that Kaylee went through.

  I’m so glad that she had Jay with her during that time…and Jude.

  Never thought I’d ever be saying that.

  * * * *

  The horses were waiting for us on the far side of the school as we made our escape—in the parking lot next to the main office. Kieran, Brent, and Han were there—holding the reins to two horses each.

  I immediately ran up to Kieran and pulled him into a quick hug. “I am so pissed at you, bro. You know that you weren’t supposed to come for me. I gave you orders.”

  “Sorry, Jacob,” Kieran grinned. “But once you walked through that tunnel with Brandon, you weren’t our leader anymore. So, we got to make all the decisions, then. And the first one we made was to figure out how to get your sorry ass out of Crazy-town.”

  “What about Rhys…is he okay?”

  “Jacob, that was Rhys up on the hill—the kid doing the shooting.”

  “That was Rhys?!”

  “Kid’s got bitching aim. We did good giving him that sniper rifle.”

  In the distance, we could hear the sounds of kids moving our way—the slap of running feet, yells and screams of terrified guys and girls, yips and barks of Crazies giving chase.

  While we were alone in the parking lot for the moment—it wouldn’t be for much longer.

  Brent pushed forward, handing me the reins to a big, black horse. “Jacob, you have to get out of here now!” he urged. “And Han and I have to get moving before someone recognizes us.”

  “You’re not coming?” That surprised me. I had assumed that the two of them would be going back to Point Dume with us.

  With a shake of his head, Brent pointed back toward the football field. “There are a lot of good kids still
back there. And there were girls in that stadium, Jacob. That means it’s going to be even more insane in this tribe now. Someone has to be here to try and help them all.”

  “Understood.” I put my hand out, shaking his. “But you know that we’ll be coming back, right? We’ll figure out some way to help. I promise.”

  “I believe you,” he said. “Now, get going. You guys should be clear down to Malibou Lake. Everyone there was supposed to be at the Arena. But stay away from Kanan-Dume and Malibu Canyon, though. There are guys all along there…hidden…but they’re definitely there. Encinal Canyon should be good, however. Just watch where it connects to Mullholland Highway. There’s sometimes a guard up on the hill there, so you might have to go around it.”

  “And you remember,” I added, “that you’ve always got a home with the Locals—all of you Stars—and anyone else you bring down to the Point. And whatever we can do to help you guys—you know where we live.”

  Brent nodded—then, he and Han were gone, melting into the chaos that was just beginning to reach our location.

  * * * *

  “That’s Beauty!” cried a delighted Kaylee, motioning to the black horse in front of us. “He lives down on Driver Avenue.”

  “Well, Brandon owns him now,” Kieran said. “And he’s going to be even more pissed when he realizes that he’s gone, so you guys need to get on him right now. Unless, Kaylee—you might want to ride with me, that is.”

  “She’ll ride with me!” I immediately blurted out, ignoring Kieran’s snickers and turning to Kaylee. “Are you okay with that, I mean? There aren’t enough horses for everyone to ride alone, so we’re going to have to share.”

  Kaylee’s smile was bright. “I’m kind of stinky,” she said, honestly.

  “Sweetheart, you’re a rose compared to me.”

  If anything, Kaylee’s smile became even brighter.

  * * * *

  “I’m not going.”

  Kaylee looked absolutely devastated at Jude’s words. “But…you can’t stay here!”

  “There aren’t enough horses to take all of us as it is,” said Jude, “and I’m the one who’s going to be turning eighteen in around seven hours. I’ll be gone anyways, so get over it, Barbie.”

  The first of the kids fleeing the bedlam back at the football field suddenly came racing around the corner; it was two young guys and a girl—all holding hands. They bounded past us, straight across Driver Avenue, and up the wooded hill into the townhouses on the other side.

  “We need to get going!” urged Pauly. “We can’t stay here any longer.”

  “Jude, please!” begged Kaylee.

  “Take care of her,” Jude told me, as she walked away from our group. “Barbie’s a gigantic pain in the ass, but she’s got good intentions.”

  “Wait, Jude, wait…”

  “I’m going to find Lily,” Jude called over her shoulder. “I want to say good-bye and I need to know that she’ll be okay.”

  “Hold up, bitch,” said Peyton, walking toward her. “I’m going with you. My eighteenth is in a couple of days, so if you don’t find Lily in time, well…at least I can try and finish the job.”

  Jude gave a big sigh, but waited for Peyton to reach her. “Come on, Fox,” she said, slapping Peyton on the back so hard that the other girl stumbled. “Let’s get out of here before these wusses get all soppy on us.”

  And—without another word—they turned and walked off.

  “I love you, Jude!” cried Kaylee, wiping at the tears now falling down her cheeks. “I love you, too, Peyton!”

  “And I love you both, too!” echoed Jay.

  “Well, you’re okay,” called Cherry, loudly. “I could of been caged up with worse, I guess.”

  Peyton didn’t even turn around, just gave a slight backwards wave. I saw her shoulders heave a little, though—as if she might be stifling a sob.

  Jude, however, turned and gave us all the finger.

  * * * *

  More and more kids began to pass us, darting out from between the school buildings, searching desperately for a way to escape the insanity that was happening on the football field.

  Although I had seen both Mateo and Brandon taken down by arrows, I was worried about the other Crazies. Sooner or later, I knew that they would be showing up. And when they saw us with the horses, they were bound to take chase.

  We had to get out of there now!

  I climbed up onto the black horse that Kaylee called Beauty and reached down to help Kaylee up. It was a bit of a fumble—nothing like the romantic swoops you see in films—but, eventually, she was seated firmly behind me, her arms around my waist.

  As her skinny body squeezed in close, I prayed that my thudding heart wouldn’t give my feelings away…or anything else.

  Kieran, meanwhile, jumped up on a chestnut, with Pauly climbing up behind him. Beside them, Cherry expertly leapt onto a smaller black horse. She reached down to Jay, who looked scared.

  “Just put your foot in the stirrup there,” ordered Cherry. “Then, give me your hand and I’ll pull you the rest of the way up.”

  Because of her small size, Jay could barely reach her leg high enough. She finally managed to snag the stirrup with the tip of her shoe.

  As she did, unfortunately, Jay started to tilt back.

  I could see that she was heading for a nasty fall, and I was worried that—if the horse became startled—there was a good chance that Jay would be dragged.

  With a nudge of my heel, I urged my horse forward, intent on helping.

  Kieran obviously had the same idea, however. He maneuvered his chestnut next to the black horse and—with a smooth movement—reached down and swooped Jay out of the stirrup and onto the back of Cherry’s horse.

  Dang it—bested by my little brother.

  * * * *

  There were three horses left.

  The girl called Cammie took a white one, while Kieran pulled the other two along on a lead. As we trotted down Driver Avenue toward the 101 Freeway, I asked Kieran if one of the horses was for Rhys.

  “We’ve also got Josh and Nate out there,” he nodded. “They’ll be meeting us at the corner of Canwood and Driver, covering us in case anyone follows.”

  “You sure Rhys is okay?” I asked, worried.

  “Last I saw, he and Josh were running down Driver to their second position,” said Kieran. “They should’ve joined up with Nate by now.”

  “How many others did you bring from the Point?”

  “Just us five.”

  “And Rhys was doing the sniping?”

  Kieran nodded. “I put Josh with him, just in case. Pauly and I worked with Brent and that Han guy to secure the horses. And Nate’s been stationed at Canwood, so that we would have an escape route secured when we left.”

  I was confused; the numbers didn’t add up. “Then, who was shooting the arrows?”

  “What arrows?”

  “Someone took Brandon and Mateo out with a bow.”

  Now, it was Kieran’s turn to look confused. “We don’t have an archer with us. Could it have been one of the Stars?”

  “It must have been.”

  “So, does that mean that Brandon and Mateo are dead?” asked Kieran.

  “Honestly—I don’t know. They both went down but, who knows, right?”

  “The archer was mine,” the girl named Cammie said. She was riding on the other side of Kieran and Pauly. “And I have to go get her now. She’ll have gone to ground a few houses down on Driver. I’ll meet up with you guys at Canwood. If you can’t wait, we’ll catch up in Malibu.”

  And—with a slight kick to her horse’s flank—she took off, galloping away.

  “Who was that ginger?” asked Kieran, obviously intrigued.

  “That’s Cammie,” said Kaylee, from behind me. “She lived in the Westlake Village library. That’s where we met her—until the Foxes kidnapped her.”

  “Fricking Foxes,” hissed Kieran.

  BANG…BANG…BANG!

&nbs
p; Bullets were suddenly whizzing by our heads.

  A few smacked into the road, shattering the tarmac and sending splinters toward the horses, frightening them. Immediately, the animals put on a burst of speed, galloping down Driver.

  I felt Kaylee’s arms tighten around me, and I put one hand over them, holding her in place.

  No way in hell I was losing her now.

  Ahead of us, there was a small arc to Driver Avenue, where it curved around before straightening out into a longer stretch. We galloped toward that, hoping to outrace the bullets that were strafing in our wake.

  As we rode into the curve, I chanced a look behind us.

  “Dammit!” I growled.

  BANG…BANG…BANG!

  There were two of them, standing on the roof of a SUV at the side of the road. They were both shooting—round after round—trying to stop our escape.

  A nightmare come true.

  Brandon and Tray—together!

  KAYLEE

  Halfway toward where Driver Avenue met up with Canwood Street, we heard the blare of a trumpet—two long notes, followed by three short ones. It was answered by a trumpet somewhere to the right of us, on the other side of the 101 Freeway—two long notes, one short.

  “Oh-oh,” said Jacob, from in front of me. “That can’t be good.”

  “We use trumpets,” I said. “But I don’t know those codes.”

  “It must be the Crazies,” yelled Kieran, galloping beside us. “Brent said they communicate over long distance that way.”

  The trumpets continued to blare—short and long notes in a conversation none of us could understand.

  * * * *

  I barely recognized Rhys—Jacob’s youngest brother—when he stepped out from behind a set of mailboxes. He was with two other guys—both about thirteen—one with brown hair, the other a blond.

  All three of them were carrying weapons.

 

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