God Country

by S T Branton

  He grumbled, but it was secretly good-natured. “Scram, kid. Leave this old dog alone.”

  I faked a bow. “Your wish is my command.”

  On my way to the long-awaited shower, I passed more and more familiar faces, all led by residents of Fort Sigel. A dark-haired, dark-eyed young woman scurried by, and I thought of Maya and Luis

  Worry not, Victoria. When they return, you may vouch for them. The general’s beef is not yet plentiful. He should have no qualms about allowing them entry.

  “What?” I rubbed my face. “All right, you and I need to have a talk about idioms.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The water pressure was awesome and damn, did it feel good. I stood under the stream with the hot tap turned up as far as I could stand it until the stall was full of steam. Then, I shut the shower off and stepped out, my feet squeaking on the tile floor. The mirror was fogged, and I wiped out a circle for my face. The sight of my tired eyes and bedraggled rat’s nest of hair made me snort in the same moment that I realized how long it had been since I’d last seen myself.

  “Not gonna lie, Vic,” I told my reflection. “You’re looking pretty rough.” The contours of my cheeks and jaw stood out in sharp relief, cloaked in post-shower haze. As I wrapped a towel around myself, I felt the edges of my ribcage protruding, nearly fatless. I didn’t feel bad, but my body was starting to show signs of wear.

  Apparently, the nectar didn’t quite mask some things, such as a distinct lack of nutrition. I poked at my own scrawny torso. “Yeah, we’ll have to work on this.”

  Maybe Frank and Jules were right about that feast being a good idea after all.

  I dried myself and pulled my clothes on without getting up from the edge of the bed. In this brief period of total inaction, I suddenly sensed the exhaustion seated deep inside my bones. It was a strange, conflicting sensation feeling both the nectar’s constant energy pumping through my veins and the overwhelming desire to lay back and close my eyes.

  Once I’d pulled my shirt over my head, I decided on the latter course of action, but sleep proved frustratingly fleeting. I sat back up and combed my fingers through my damp hair. I took a few minutes to reflect on how fast things had changed for us. Twelve hours ago, we’d been a human herd sandwiched between two trucks, struggling over mountain tracks in search of a safe place we had only heard about. Now, I was squeaky clean for the first time in probably weeks, in a real bedroom, on a real bed, with real blankets. It was nothing short of an early Christmas miracle.

  So, why did it feel so weird?

  I dropped my head into my hands, released a little groan, and scratched my head with all my fingers. Everything was as perfect as I could’ve asked for, if not more. After a week in the unforgiving, Forgotten-infested wilderness, Fort Sigel was a castle in the sky. And there were definitely parts of me that acknowledged this as the major victory it was. Still, something didn’t sit right with me.

  “Ah, dammit,” I said out loud. “Nothing’s ever easy.” The words suddenly flipped a switch in my brain, which caused some circuit to complete. “Holy shit, is that it? It’s too good to be true.”

  I scooted over to the other side of the mattress and fished in the pile of cast-off clothing for Marcus’s medallion. The chain slung easily around my neck as I inched back to sit with my shoulders against a propped-up pillow. “Hey, let me get your perspective on something. It’s been eating at me all day.”

  I am here for you, my friend. Unburden your troubles, and I will do my best to help you bear them.

  I smiled in the dim light of the room. “You could have just said, ‘yes.’”

  Loquaciousness is part of my charm.

  I folded the damp towel in my lap and chewed the inside of my lip. “Do you think this might have all worked out a little too well?”

  Please elaborate. I am not sure I fully grasp your meaning.

  Trying to collect and arrange my thoughts into something explainable, I flipped the towel, unfolded it, and started over. “Like pieces fell into place too fast. If I were the general, I wouldn’t have let a hundred random strangers into my awesome fort simply because I knew one of them could fight. And Steph has a point about this feast. It doesn’t make sense to be so careless about food.”

  These points are both salient. However, we have yet to behold these stores the general claims to have. Possibly, he tells the truth, and they are as full as he says. If he has truly been supplied by your government, then does it not make sense for there to be an abundance?

  “Sure,” I allowed. “But what if he’s lying? He could be saying shit to make us think we’re safe here long term.”

  For what purpose? If it was the Gladius Solis he sought, he could have taken it and run this morning. I do not doubt your instincts, but I admit I have trouble formulating motive in this hypothetical lie.

  “Me too.” I wrapped a lock of hair around my finger and tugged gently. “I can’t seem to let go of it, though. I think I’m on to something. I’m merely missing a few pieces.”

  In any case, it is vital to stay alert. Keep your wits about you so that you will not be surprised by the sudden winds of change. We have relearned this day how quickly they arrive.

  “No kidding,” I mumbled, still wracking my brain. “This will drive me completely insane. I have to find the missing link.”

  A knock at the door disrupted my thoughts, but as soon as my brain processed the sound, I knew it was a welcome interruption. I would recognize that neat rapping anywhere. “Come in, Jules,” I called, not moving from my perch atop the extra firm mattress. “It should be open.”

  She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “Look at you, getting a private room. How fancy. I guess this means you’re an officer.”

  “I’m cool with that as long as I don’t have to ride another horse,” I said.

  She chuckled. “Scoot over.” After we’d gotten as comfortable as we could, Jules glanced at me. “I came to see how you’re doing. Check in with my favorite person. You know.”

  “I mean, I’m doing okay, but…” I trailed off, reluctant to voice my concerns. She was obviously happy to be at Fort Sigel. Putting her happiness in jeopardy, no matter what the reason, felt a little like a betrayal. Jules had already been through so much at the hands of the gods. She deserved a moment of peace, no matter how brief it might be.

  “But?” she prompted.

  “I’m waiting for the other boot to drop.” Saying it out loud made it sound stupider than it had been in my head. I wanted to take it back.

  My friend laughed. “What do you mean? It’s about time we caught a break, don’t you think? We’ve been through hell these past few weeks, getting out of New York and then coming here. You’ve killed, like, a bunch of gods. I think you’re entitled to relax and take the good things as they come. They’re few and far between these days.”

  I fidgeted. “You’re right, and I know you’re right. I’ve earned this as much as anyone else.”

  “You don’t sound convinced,” she teased. “Seriously, Vic. Relax. We made it here. This place is real. Everything will be fine.”

  I did my best to restrain my nervous energy, and I managed for about twenty seconds. Then I ran my fingers through my hair, wincing as they caught in a few tangles I’d missed with the comb. “Man, it’s not working. I gotta be missing something.”

  Jules slid off her side of the bed. “You know what you’re missing? A good night’s sleep. Do that, and we’ll talk in the morning.” She came closer to me and placed her hands on my shoulders. “I know you’re a chronic insomniac, but promise you’ll give it a shot, okay? You’ve got a bed. Don’t waste it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, Mom.” We giggled. “Love you, Jules. Good night.”

  “Love you too. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” The door closed behind her again, drenching me in heavy silence. The fort, I noticed, was quiet in its solitary spaces, as if the smaller rooms had been soundproofed. The effect was strange and profoundly
isolating.

  Maybe that was why I couldn’t sleep.

  I lay on my back, staring blankly up at the plain eggshell ceiling for almost an hour before I finally gave up. Slipping my feet into my shoes, I put Marcus on. “Guess what?”

  What?

  “We’re going on a little adventure.” I picked my jacket up from the place where I’d dropped it before my shower and pushed my arms into the sleeves on my way out the door. “The general gave us an official tour already, but I’m a little more interested in what’s going on behind the scenes.”

  I distinctly remember you instructing both Deacon and Frank to stay out of trouble, Marcus said, though I could hear his smile.

  “Do as I say,” I told him. “Not as I do. And besides, who said anything about trouble? We’ll merely do a little…exploring.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Fort Sigel had high, reinforced windows and tons of super bright, artificial light. It was hard to tell what time it was when I reached the halls, but I found the fort’s populace far from bedded down for the night. Clusters of friends and strangers making friends spread throughout the common areas on blankets and chairs as if they were still camping out. The air was full of the pleasant sound of hushed conversation, laughter, and mothers singing their children to sleep. I was gratified to spot more than a few faces I recognized from our hard trek out of New York—faces I’d last seen lined heavily with exhaustion and fear. All seemed blissfully well now, and a surge of the deepest gratitude welled up through my chest.

  The journey had been harrowing, but we made it.

  I am pleased to see so many of our people at rest, Marcus commented. This intrepid band of pilgrims has endured much hardship.

  “These are some of the toughest people I’ve ever seen,” I told him. “I’m proud of them.”

  Well, I am very proud of you, Marcus said, and of the great leader you have become. You have truly grown from the ugliest duckling into a swan of valor.

  I chuckled. “Uh, thanks, I think.” I passed out of a sprawling main room into the next corridor. A woman with a baby perched on her hip hurried in the opposite direction. She cradled the back of the child’s head against her shoulder, humming the soothing strains of a lullaby. We locked eyes for a second, and I nodded a greeting. Her smile started out polite and timid, then her dark eyes lit up.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed. “It’s you.”

  I blinked, and her soft oval face suddenly struck a faint chord of memory—she’d been one of the original safehouse refugees. It was nice but almost strange to run into her there, days later, among so many others. “Hi,” I said, offering her a smile. “How are you? Settling in okay?”

  “Oh, my gosh, are you kidding?” Now, her grin was radiant. “This is like paradise, even compared to the place we had before.” Her baby fidgeted, and she shifted the weight against her body, bouncing the child lightly. “I can’t believe you found it for us. It is truly a miracle.”

  Her praise was both flattering and humbling. I kept the smile on my face as I shuffled my feet, searching for the right words. “Well, I’m glad we’re all taken care of for now.”

  “Yes.” She looked at me earnestly and cleared her throat. “Anyway, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything you did to make this happen. You saved our lives.” A dry laugh escaped her lips. “When those…those beings descended on the city, I thought we were all done for.”

  “Not yet,” I said, and I laughed too. Realizing the potential awkwardness of my chosen response, I added, “We’ll be perfectly fine here. I promise.” Nice save.

  With the hand that wasn’t fastened around her child, she reached out and touched my arm in a simple, heartfelt gesture. “Thank you so much.” Then she moved past me, her footsteps trailing toward the common area.

  I stood still for a moment in the wake of the encounter, a little dazed, processing what she had said. The genuine warmth of her words seeped slowly down into my heart. I think it grew a size or two, like the Grinch’s. She helped me put the constant struggle into perspective and refreshed my resolve to do the best I could for whoever crossed my path—as long as they were not Forgotten. Those assholes would all get a swift boot up the ass.

  “I should have thanked her back,” I muttered, mentally kicking myself.

  That is one thing you have yet to learn, Victoria, Marcus said with some amusement. The art of gracefully accepting a compliment.

  “Where’s Dan?” I wondered, changing the subject. “I haven’t seen him since he left with the general. I’ve got some questions I want to ask.”

  Perhaps those answers could be provided by another military expert you know, he responded. Someone whose years of experience can be measured in millennia.

  “It’s good to diversify opinions,” I told him. “Not that I value yours any less, but Dan’s way more familiar with shit like guns and modern battle tactics. And I’ve never been a soldier, so I need all the input I can get.” I threaded my way toward the entrance to the fort, keeping an eye out for someone who might be able to tell me where the soldier was. A few guards stood near the main door, and I beelined for them.

  The nearest guard saluted when he noticed me approaching. “Vic, right? What can I do for you?”

  “Hey, can you tell me where I might be able to find my friend, Dan? He’s the officer who came in with me, the one with the soldiers.” I stopped short of divulging my intentions so that I could keep some cards close to the vest.

  The guard frowned slightly. “He’s off with the general, as far as I know. I don’t know anything about what they’re doing. Could be top secret.” He shrugged and didn’t volunteer anything else.

  “Okay.” I scratched my head. “Can you tell me when he’ll be back?”

  “No, ma’am,” the guard replied a little regretfully. “That’s at the general’s discretion. The most I can do is let Dan know you’re looking for him the next time I see him.”

  It didn’t really surprise me that the commanding officer might have secret operations going on in his fort, but I was a little taken aback by the fact that I couldn’t get even a vague sense of my friend’s location. As the de facto leader for weeks now, I guess I wasn’t too used to getting stonewalled.

  But I was also no longer the highest in the chain of command.

  “That’ll have to do,” I said. “Thanks.” I adjusted my trajectory and headed for the opposite end of the fort. “Did that feel weird to you?” I asked Marcus as soon as I judged we were out of earshot. “They didn’t tell me a single thing.”

  It can be frustrating to deal with such procedures, but military institutions often have their own complex systems. Since we are guests in their generously provided shelter, it seems prudent to accept their practices. I have no doubt that Dan is faring well.

  “Hmm.” The logic behind that advice was sound and typical of Marcus’s by-the-book attitude. Still, I had trouble shaking the conversation off. Once I’d gotten to actually speak to Dan again, I’d be much happier.

  Worry not, Victoria. Tell me, where are we off to next? His voice was light and reassuring. Let us focus on the current adventure.

  I sighed. “Oh, fine. I want to check out that high-security place we saw. It didn’t look like anyone was around earlier. Maybe we can sneak in while it’s dark.”

  It seems foolish to leave such a structure unguarded.

  “Sure,” I said, “but that’s a good thing. I can snoop around without getting busted.”

  The route I chose essentially retraced the path of the tour we’d taken with the general. I walked with casual purpose, my head up and shoulders back, following the golden rule that got me through countless amateur recon missions back in my days of chasing Rocco—act like you belong there and nobody will say a word. It was half true, anyway. I knew where I was going.

  I merely didn’t know if I’d be able to do what I wanted when I got there.

  The common rooms were gradually emptying out as people trickled off to bed.
A hush settled gently over Fort Sigel, wrapping it in a cover of peace. I drank in the tranquility while I made my way to the back exit that opened out toward the garden. The short corridor preceding it was empty. I crossed my fingers that the bar wouldn’t be padlocked and breathed a little easier when I saw that it wasn’t.

  In fact, the latch gave barely any resistance at all. I slipped through into the fresh night air and took a deep, cleansing breath. “Man, this feels good,” I whispered to myself. Now that I wasn’t trapped out in it, the cold was more of a refresher than a threat. The air put a crisp, clean taste in the back of my throat. I looked around.

  The garden lay toward the back wall of the fort’s perimeter, its tilled soil darker than the ground around it. I couldn’t see the edge of the property through the darkness from where I stood, but the silhouette of that empty building loomed in the trees. Its windows were blank and undisturbed, like expressionless eyes staring down on Fort Sigel below. I kept my movements casual in case anyone could see me, but I moved carefully and remained watchful for more soldiers.

  The closer I got, the more abandoned the building appeared. Its front door had been securely boarded up some time ago, the planks crisscrossed by a chain and a heavy padlock for good measure. On the first floor, the windows were narrow and high off the ground, which made the prospect of breaking and entering kind of a pain. Picking that lock was an option—if I had tools on me and a person to stand lookout.

  I filed that information away for later and turned to move around the corner along the western wall. Suddenly, the blinding flash of a searchlight stopped me dead in my tracks. It only lasted a split second, but I stood motionless, momentarily blinded by the brightness, and waited for my eyes to readjust. Adrenaline heated my blood. I tried to figure out what had just happened.

  Victoria. Someone approaches.

  I heard the sound at the same time as Marcus’s warning, and I turned in time to see a group of guards approaching my position. They had their sights set directly on me through the shadows. There was no sneaking away from this one. I prepared to put on my most innocent face and lie my ass off.