by DC Little
“Just found out,” she said, her voice giving too much away. “He did it for us…”
Her dad shot her a glare before breaking through the crowd, silencing them. “Enough! Darius, report.”
“He attacked me! I just regained consciousness,” Darius said, his voice sounding muffled as he held a hand over his broken nose. Blood caked his face, creasing his lips. “I’m lucky he didn’t kill me.”
“What did he hit you with?” Someone asked.
“He kicked me,” Darius said.
A few snickers wove through the group. Her dad glared at them and once again everyone was quiet.
“Did he say anything before he…uh,” her dad asked as he motioned to Darius’s nose.
“I...I can’t remember.”
Her dad looked around the group. “Who had sentry duty?”
“Me, sir,” Owen stepped forward. “I...I don’t know what to say. I didn’t see or hear anything.”
“Nothing?” Her dad pressed.
Owen shook his head, lowering it in shame.
“He’s crazy. He climbs all over the rocks like a squirrel,” Darius complained. “He’s going to lead the strangers here!”
Several people assented and murmurs broke out amongst the people of Zion.
“You don’t know that!” Mercy had been biting her tongue until it bled to keep from embarrassing her dad, but this pushed her too far. “He left to keep them away from here!”
“Why didn’t you go with him then, traitor?” Darius sneered, but not for long.
Her dad grasped him by his shirt, pulling him close to his face. “Are you sure you want to throw out these accusations? You know the consequence for wrongly accusing someone without evidence that proves it to be true.”
Darius let go of his nose to hold his hands up in surrender. His eyes went wide as he shook his head. “No...no sir. I...my head, it’s all fuddled.”
Her dad slowly let go of his shirt. “Go to medic, then, and keep your trap shut. We don’t need drama-filled rumors spreading even more fear.”
“Y..yes, sir.” Darius glared at her as he passed, holding his nose once again and following Laurie to medic.
Mercy pushed through the crowd, racing toward the entrance, looking for signs of Orion’s passing. She followed the tracks in the slightly wet ground inside the passageway. She saw Orion’s tracks facing Darius’s, then the shape of Darius’s body on the ground. No tracks passed over the body. The only tracks beyond that were Darius’s flat-footed ones.
She went back, traced again. Still nothing. Then, thinking more like Orion, she stood at the point of the face-off and studied the rock. Sure enough, she found slight scrape marks where moss and lichen had loosened or dislodged completely, straight up the rock.
“What did you find?” Tucker asked as he came up to her.
“His tracks stop here where he had the altercation with Darius.”
“They just stop?”
“Well, they don’t go forward from here.” She turned to look at him. “They go up.”
She pulled forth the memory she had of Orion teaching her a move he called a chimney climb. She set a foot on one side and then hopped up to get her other foot on the opposite side.
“What are you doing?” Tucker asked.
“Following his tracks,” she said, her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth as she finished the clamoring, making it to the top to smile down at Tucker. “Coming?”
Tucker started attempting to climb up the rocks when the powerful presence of her father shadowed him.
“Where are you two going?”
“Little Sis is following Orion’s tracks. I thought I better go with her.”
“Up the rock?” Her dad looked up at her.
“He didn’t go out the entrance, Dad. He’s covering his tracks, and I’m going to prove it.”
“Then I better come with you,” Ethan said as he made it to them.
“Agreed.” Her dad nodded. “Orion lived with the two of you. It could seem like favoritism. Taking Ethan will help with that.” He caught Mercy’s eye. “You follow the tracks until you are sure no one can follow them back here, and then you return. You hear me? You are to be back by midday at the latest.”
“Yes, sir,” Mercy said, rolling her eyes.
If this wasn’t such a serious situation, Mercy would have laughed, watching her brother and Ethan try to scramble up the wall. She finally took pity on them, teaching them the trick that Orion had taught her. They made their way, not necessarily gracefully, but safely up the boulder pile. She studied the rocks, looking for any signs of disturbance.
“Can you really see anything?” Ethan asked, bending down next to her where she inspected a smear of lichen on the rock.
“Yes, look. See this green stain here, like a foot smeared the lichen?” She followed the direction. “And here, a place where the granite is pulverized.”
Ethan stood up and shook his head.
“Watch and learn,” Tucker said, slapping him on the back.
They followed behind her, and she painstakingly followed tiny clues, continued on faith until she found the next one. Orion had traveled the tops of the rocks, veering close to the edge of the cliff. She looked up, noticing that a sentry wouldn’t be able to see the area where they stood. Nodding up, she told the guys her theory.
“So, Owen really couldn’t have seen him, because he hadn’t gone through the entrance but went beneath his nose. I’m betting that we will find his tracks hit the forest floor where the rock jumble ends there.” She pointed about a hundred yards ahead, then took off at a bound, running on the top of the rocks the way Orion had showed her in the last few weeks.
By the time the guys caught up with her, she had found her clue on the forest floor. “See that?”
“I don’t see a footprint.” Ethan squinted.
“No, you won’t. He covered his tracks, just like I said.” Her heart swelled for Orion’s thoughtfulness and how well her student had learned their ways, but then it fell. If he erased his tracks, would he be able to find them again when it was safe?
“Then how do you know he went this way?” Ethan asked. “Not that I don’t believe you...I’m fascinated how I missed this in tracking class.”
Tucker smiled, pointing. “See those scratch marks, like someone drug a branch, and the few pine needles that lay on top of the marks?”
“I told you. He’s trying to keep them from finding us.” Mercy met their eyes, daring them to disagree.
>>>—ORION—<<<
The further from Zion Orion walked, the worse he felt. What if his dad was right? Depending on which officer was in charge of the mission, it could go many ways. The Old Man never left the city boundary anymore. Not since, well, it sounded like the last time he left was when he had tried to kill Orion’s dad.
Rage boiled inside of Orion. He knew he would have to control it until he found the perfect time to strike. Someone would pay for him missing out on his dad while growing up, and now that he knew it wasn’t Chantry that had killed him, or even attempted to, there really was only one person to blame—the same person who held him, his sister, and the girls captive. Meyers.
The name left a nasty taste in his mouth. He dug out the jerky he had stashed in his pocket, tearing off a hunk with his teeth. He needed the energy, but the motion also helped him to expend some of his anger and wiped the foul taste from his mouth.
The landscape had more trees here and flatter ground. He walked to the closest rise to get a better vantage point. As he chewed methodically, he scanned the area for the dead tree and the twin pine to be sure he still moved in the right direction. Spotting them, his blood rushed in his ears, his focal points were much closer than he had expected.
His chest constricted as he swore he felt Mercy reaching toward him, offering him alternatives. He envied her faith. He only knew action, and right now, he needed to act in order to keep the coalition from finding them. His head pounded with indecision. What would h
e tell them?
With a sigh, he continued his journey, keeping his awareness on high alert for sounds of human life. He noticed the silence of his footsteps, and a smile tugged on his lips. Being soundless would give him an advantage. Yet, the moccasins would also give him away. No one would believe he had survived out here on his own for most of winter.
That had been his first plan. They had patched his clothes with soft strips of leather, his moccasins were finely crafted, well, except for the few stitches he had attempted himself. He poked at his belly. He didn’t look near starved enough. No, even the densest of coalition officers wouldn’t believe that story.
Maybe he could say that he hadn’t found Chantry’s band, but another. There could have been more than one defector camp this far out. Zion was not even close to the location the Old Man had given them.
Orion shook his head. He really needed to figure this out. Any intel could lead them to Zion, to his father, to Mercy. That wasn’t acceptable. Yet, if he offered no intel at all, it was a death sentence for him and his sister as well.
Birds flew from the trees, squawking in protest. Orion’s head snapped toward them and then under, his first thought being Mercy had followed him. A mixture of hope and horror filled him as he scanned the area for his red-headed angel.
He had immediately crouched down behind a network of thorny bushes and now realized that Zion had rubbed off on him more than he had thought. Always at the ready. He held his breath, searching and listening.
Stomping footsteps made by boots sent the hairs on his neck standing on end. No more time to plan. They were here. If they followed his tracks now, they would be too close for comfort to Zion. If they could follow them. The coalition had a few top-notch trackers, but he had learned ways to cover up his steps, especially in the moist, pine needle carpeted forests.
Orion crept closer to the sound of men crashing through the underbrush, thinking them lumbering idiots, but no one was following them. They were the predator. He was the prey.
A shiver coursed down his spine. He was tired of being the prey. For a split second, he thought about stalking the loud party and slowly picking them off one-by-one. A sneer pulled at his lips until he realized that thought, the thought of bloody murder, was not his, but the Old Man’s influence rubbing off on him.
His stomach soured, threatening to relieve him of the jerky he had just eaten.
He snuck closer to the group as one of them tripped, landing with an oomph.
“Pick your feet up, Doofus.” That grumbly voice sent elation rolling through Orion.
Mulroney!
“These bushes are tripping me up. No one would go this way. Especially not that building-jumping brat,” Sanders said. So they made it out of the snowstorm!
Orion readied to stand but caught himself in the act. Assess first. They may not be alone. He scurried to a place he could actually see them pushing through the brush. Four men. Mulroney and Sanders sandwiched between Big Al at the back and in the front, Orion squinted, leaning out to get a better angle, Freddie. Orion swallowed. Freddie was the second best tracker the coalition had.
Looking back at Mulroney, Orion froze when their eyes met. How had he seen him? Mulroney gave a slight shake of his head before turning back to look ahead.
“You got anything, Freddie?” Mulroney bellowed. “The others will come up behind us any minute. You know the commander’s temper will flare if we have nothing to give him.”
“Well, I can’t give anything when there’s nothing to give,” Freddie whined. “How do they expect me to follow a trail made during a snowstorm months after it melted?”
“Seems like a lost cause. The poor kid is probably bear meat by now,” Mulroney said.
“I still think he got hit by that tree—” Sanders’ voice cut short as Mulroney spun on him.
“What tree?” Freddie asked.
Mulroney paused his step. “Trees fell down all over the place during that storm. I’ve seen nothing like it. The sun’s slipping behind the hills. Let’s scout camp for the night.”
Freddie shrugged. “Probably best. I can’t see anything in this waning light, anyway.”
While they discussed their options, Orion sat back, thinking of his own. The mission had a commander? That changed the stakes, and not in Orion’s favor. If they had four scouts, then how many had they brought with them? A chill came over the land as the sun took its warmth down behind the hills. With shaking hands, Orion pulled his jacket closer.
He should have waited for Chantry to decide. They had warriors. Orion hung his head. Warriors that had never seen an actual battle. They would have had a rude awakening when their blows didn’t leave splattered colored powder and angry glares, but blood and sightless eyes. He thought of the innocence in Mercy’s eyes after he had kissed her. He didn’t want to see the mark killing would leave on her. That wasn’t something that could be erased.
He had no choice. Even if he decided he could live with Mercy and her warriors seeing the cost of real war, the chance of getting back to Zion without leading the enemy there was a risk he wasn’t willing to take. He could scout around the group, go to Meyers directly, but that would leave the tracker out, searching for any mistakes that Orion had made.
“There,” the tracker’s voice called loudly, surprising Orion from his thoughts. “It’s a flat plane, perfect for a camp.” The man pointed over Orion’s head.
“Nah, not good,” Mulroney said, his voice even gruffer than normal. “Let’s move north, back to that grassy area we found.”
“And retrace our steps? That would waste time. Come on.” Freddie started straight toward Orion.
There was no way around it. If the tracker continued to advance, he would step right into Orion. With them this close, he couldn’t escape without being seen. If he ran, he could keep them busy enough to lose his original tracks. Before the thought even finished, he stood, turned to run, and smacked right into something large and solid. Holding his nose from the impact, Orion pulled his head back, looking up into the gigantic form of Big Al.
“Hey, Sasquatch. Miss me?”
Big Al must not have thought the greeting funny. His face remained impassive, but his monster of a hand twisted itself in Orion’s jacket.
“Well, looks like Big Al found the treasure.” Freddie rubbed his hands together. “Back to the warm beds and women.” He sneered. “Welcome back, boy.”
Orion no longer had to decide what to do. They had decided for him. The hand belonging to the giant of a man held him prisoner. With his feet barely touching the ground, Big Al led them back the way they had come.
Mulroney’s face paled, his brows lowering even more than usual. “You’re in for it now, boy. This new commander won’t take kindly to you sneaking around.”
“New commander, eh?” Orion filed through the coalition officers he could think of, figuring out which ones might have been promoted. He could take any of them...with his wits. “I got this, Mulman.”
“I hope so.” The words were so soft and unrecognizable coming from the gruff man that they sent a chill of apprehension shooting down Orion’s spine.
When the group caught up with them, his heart dropped further. There were at least fifteen more men. The Old Man had sent a large number out to find him.
“What’d you catch?” A dark-haired man, looking to be several years older than Orion, strutted toward him, a malicious smile on his cruel face.
Orion’s stomach roiled. This was not good, not good at all. The man was unfamiliar...not from this coalition at all.
“This the kid?” The man narrowed his eyes on Mulroney.
Mulroney’s jaw muscles spasmed as he gave a curt nod.
The commander, for who else could he be the way everyone cowed to him, looked Orion up and down, his wide, evil smile growing. “Looks like you went native.”
“How else was I supposed to fit in?” Orion quipped. “Now let me go.” He glared at Big Al. “I need to file my report with Meyers.”
Orion swallowed as he watched the arrogant man stride away, issuing orders as he went. Big trouble.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
>>>—MERCY—<<<
“You’re not listening to reason!” Mercy’s entire body stiffened with the rage of not being heard. How could they be so stupid? She glared at each man, hoping that someone would show some sense.
Arland, Blake, and Tyler sat across her in the Hub, the dwelling they used for meetings and storytelling. Today though, only the leaders sat in front of her, the leaders that held Orion’s fate in their hands.
“If I was Tucker, you would listen to me. Why don’t you believe me?” She tugged her hair, needing to unleash the insanity these men created within her.
“Even with a true...prophecy,” her dad began, “our answer would still be no.”
“He ensured the enemy couldn’t follow his tracks, and you still believe him to be a traitor?” Mercy raged, pacing back and forth, each step pounding with frustration.
“We understand your personal sentiments,” Arland said.
Mercy snapped her head back to the man. “Personal sentiments?” She took two menacing steps toward him. “Why don’t you admit you are happy he’s gone? Now he won’t stand in the way on Choosing Day.”
“Mercy,” her dad warned icily.
Arland held up his hand. “As a leader, my personal feelings have to be set aside.”
“It’s difficult to choose the many over the few,” Tyler added, his brows knitted with understanding.
“You need to remember,” her dad said, his voice gentling, “to trust your elders. We have been through a similar situation. We know the consequences.”
