by Merry Farmer
The hallway was deserted once more. He let out a breath and leaned heavily against the wall. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them under his glasses. Since when had he become such a fool? It was an easy answer. Since Grace. He’d give Heather five minutes to get the book and bring it back to him, and then he was gone. Any minute now the ship would wake up and go about its business. Grace and the members of her team would learn their meeting location had been switched. In three hours he would find out whether the information Carrie had shared with him was true or just another twist in Kutrosky’s plot.
It felt as though no time had passed at all when the elevator door slid open again. Heather rushed out, the huge survival book in her arms.
“Piece of cake,” she said with a smile that bordered on childlike, presenting the book to him. “He’ll never know it’s gone.” She paused. “Damn. I wish he would see it’s gone. I would really like to piss him off right now.”
Danny arched an eyebrow but kept his mouth shut. He didn’t have time to make small talk with a belligerent teenager. “Thanks,” he said and nodded for her to go. “Tell Jonah I said hi.”
Heather took two steps down the hall before turning bright red. “He’s cool, you know,” she said, then picked up her pace on her flight to the elevator.
“I’m sure he is,” Danny drawled. He followed her, pausing when he reached the opening to the passage to the emergency ship. A twinge of conscience stopped him before he could dart down the hall.
“Heather,” he called after her in a low whisper.
“What?” She paused and turned to him.
Danny pressed his mouth shut, wondering why the hell he was wasting time. He took another breath.
“Stay close to the emergency ships today. Any of the emergency ships, no matter where you go.” He hesitated. “I…I hear there’s supposed to be a drill later today.”
“A drill?” She made a face. They hadn’t had a single drill since leaving Earth.
“That’s what I heard. Just make sure you’re the first one on a ship. Run as fast as you can for one when the time comes. Consider it my thank you.”
She frowned, inching further away from him, reaching for the button to call the public elevator. “Okay.”
She gave him one more smile as the doors slid open. A second later she was inside the elevator and gone. He let out a breath, shaking his head and rushing on to ES5 to hide the book.
Sunlight flooded the room where Danny awoke. He blinked his eyes open, unable to focus on anything, trying to remember where he was. Wherever it was, it was warm. Layers of coarse wool blankets covered him. He was in a bed. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Kinn’s village. The refugees. Sean and Gil telling him Kutrosky’s army was just across the river. Grace.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes to bring the area immediately around him into focus. His body still ached, his hands and feet throbbed, but he wasn’t bound. He still wore his clothes. The gun and the pouch of bullets were gone. Panic hit him and he pushed at the blankets, swinging his legs around and stumbling out of bed. Willing his weak eyes to see, he searched the room, starting with the row of baskets at the foot of his bed.
“Relax,” a woman’s voice scolded him.
He jerked and twisted to the corner of the room. Mina sat near a snapping fire, nursing her baby.
“They’re on the bedside table.” She nodded to the low table by the head of the bed.
The gun, the pouch of bullets, the map Grace had drawn, and the sack he’d stolen from Kutrosky’s hut lay in neat order. His relief at seeing it all there made his knees weak. He grabbed the pouch, palming it to be sure the bullets were still there. He counted. Six. All there.
“What time is it?” He forced his voice to calm and casually reached for the gun. His hands only trembled slightly as he tipped the pouch to spill the bullets into his hand. One by one, he loaded all six of the bullets.
“Whoa, whoa!” Mina stood, pulling the baby away from her breast and rushing across the room to him. “Don’t go all vigilante yet. You’ve been passed out all night. It’s an hour or so after dawn. You need to eat something or you’re going to pass right out again.”
“I don’t have time.” He moved to put the gun back into the waistband of his pants but thought better of it. If it went off in his stomach or leg, death wouldn’t be pretty. The bullets had someone else’s name on them anyhow. “Where is my coat?”
She pointed to a hook by the door where Kutrosky’s silvery fur parka hung. “The others have been putting together supplies. Your friend Sean is a piece of work.”
“He’s not my friend,” Danny told her without conviction as he crossed to fetch the coat.
“Oh yeah? Well he sure did fuss over you when you went all lights out.”
He froze and pivoted to blink at her. “Sean. Fussed over me?”
“Yep,” she said. “He’s pretty good at acting like he’s in charge too.” Danny huffed a laugh in disbelief. “Fortunately for all of us, I don’t put up with those kinds of shenanigans. He ended up cleaning latrines before being sent to bed last night.”
Danny laughed outright at the image Mina’s words brought to mind, a tiny woman ordering tall, fit Sean to scrub toilets. He shrugged into the coat, slipping the loaded gun into the pocket. “I bet he loved that.”
Mina shrugged. “It got the point across. He’s been much quieter this morning. He and Gil and about half of our men are gathering supplies and weapons for an assault on Kutrosky’s position.”
Danny fumbled the sack from Kutrosky’s camp, not sure he’d heard right.
“Who ordered that?” He swiped Grace’s map off the bedside table and tucked it in his pants pocket even though he had no use for it. Grace had made it. For him.
“I did,” Mina answered.
Again Danny was startled to stillness. “You did?”
“Well who the hell do you think would order two dozen soldiers to take action? Tyrone? Kinn?” Before Danny could answer, she went on with, “Nobody knows where Kinn is. He never came back across the river. He could be dead in the snow for all we know. I’ll send someone out to look for him as soon as I can, but right now we’ve got bigger problems to worry about. Men are great when it comes to doing the heavy lifting, getting the job done, but frankly, they don’t know shit about organization.”
A buried memory resurfaced. Danny had met Mina on the runway in Florida, before the shuttle to the transport ship had ever taken off. She was a Project coordinator. Organization was her bread and butter.
A grin tweaked the corner of his mouth. “So what do you want me to do?”
She rolled her eyes, but stood straighter, filled with authority. “I want you to lead this expedition.”
It was exactly what he intended to do whether she approved or not, but he still asked, “Why me? I’m not a soldier. I’m a scientist. I’m the one who got us all into this mess.”
“You’re Grace’s friend. More than that if what she told me was true.”
He shifted his stolen pack over one shoulder. “I’m half-blind now that I’ve lost my glasses. Can’t see more than a few yards in front of me. I don’t know anything about military tactics.”
Mina clucked with impatience. “Look, Grace is a friend. She’s done amazing things for all of us here. Between what you said, what your buddy Sean said, and what some of those nasty refugees said once they stopped crying like lost lambs, we get that she’s in trouble. Everyone wants to help her.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Simple. You love her. You’re more motivated to find her and stop Kutrosky than anyone on this entire moon.”
“Well,” he said, slipping on the fur mittens that sat on a shelf beside the door, “you’re right about that.”
He threw open the door and charged out into the street. Mina didn’t try to stop him.
Mina’s house was close to the longhouse. It was only just after dawn, but it seemed like half of the village was out, soldiers g
earing up, civilians rushing to serve whatever food they could find to dazed refugees. One of the women thrust a bowl of something steaming into his hands before he could protest. It was some sort of oatmeal. He forced himself to eat it as he marched restlessly through the tent, studying the preparations, looking for Sean and Gil.
He found them seated at the end of a table with a group of soldiers. A rough map lay in the center of the table. Gil was sketching on it with a charcoal pencil as Sean and some of the others pointed at it.
“How soon will we be ready to head out?” Danny asked as he approached.
The group stopped their meeting and glanced up to watch him. They could stare all they liked. This was his mission.
One of the soldiers, Mina’s husband, Tyrone, stood and faced him with a back so straight Danny expected him to salute. “Soon, sir. The men for the mission have been chosen and equipped. We were just waiting for you.”
“Fine. Gather everyone who’s coming with us and tell them we’ll leave from the head of the path in five minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” Tyrone nodded and turned to rush off. The soldiers at the table followed him. Only Sean and Gil remained.
“I’m pretty sure this is Kutrosky’s position,” Gil said, stumbling up from the table and showing Danny the map. “It took you about seven or eight hours to hike from Kutrosky’s old camp to our settlement in the summer. It could be the same or longer if they’ve got snowshoes, but faster if they’re on skis.”
“Any idea which they have?” Danny asked.
“No,” Sean answered. “We have no idea what kinds of weapons they have either. Kutrosky’s people reported anything from crude leather whips to crossbows like the kind Kinn’s people have. The only weapons we have in our settlement are the handful of crossbows we got from these guys last fall, longbows that we have yet to get to fire more than fifty feet, and spears. I don’t like it.”
“Then we’d better get moving,” Danny answered him.
He turned to go, but paused as he glanced across the map.
“What’s all this?” he asked, nodding to the scattering of shapes Gil had drawn between Kutrosky’s army and their home.
“Oh.” Gil fumbled the map to give Danny a better view. “That’s the shell of ES5 and that’s our old camp.”
They each rested halfway between Kutrosky and their settlement. Something about it tickled a thought at the back of Danny’s mind. He didn’t have time to entertain it.
“Come on,” he said, heading for the longhouse door.
The next ten minutes were an odd juxtaposition of equipping all of the men for the mission, having food and tea stuffed down his throat by the women who were just as fierce as the soldiers, and being thanked and wept over by refugees who had yet to find something more productive to do. Danny was beyond being gracious, thanking those who needed to be thanked and comforting the refugees, but he had only one goal, helping his friends and finding Grace. He had the loaded gun in the pocket of his coat, but didn’t say no when a crossbow and a large knife were offered to him.
Finally, as the orange light of Chronis and its sun rose to the tops of the trees, he stood at the front of a squad of three dozen trained soldiers, Sean, and Gil. They were fit, disciplined, ready. The first serious taste of hope gave him energy he didn’t think he had.
“I might not know much about leading an army,” he told them, heart pounding for what lay ahead of them, “but I know what needs to be done. Find Kutrosky. Subdue him. Free his prisoners. And last but not least, get the beacon from him and destroy it. If Vengeance finds us, the lives we’ve been trying to build here will be for nothing. I refuse to believe that everything I’ve fought and…and killed for has been for nothing.”
He ended and turned to face forward. To his surprise, the men met his feeble speech with roars of approval. Their battle cry was enough to make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. His heart trembled in fear. Who did he think he was to cast himself in the role of the hero? He was just a man who had made so many mistakes he would never be able to wash the blood from his hands. He was a man who loved a woman, nothing more.
They set out along the path, making their way to the river in a restless, ordered bunch. The soldiers settled into the role they had trained for. The rhythmic crunch of their boots marching over snow—bows, crossbows, and even a few wicked-looking spears and shields clattering—formed a martial drumbeat that echoed the pace of Danny’s heart. The sights and sounds seemed more like something out of a history play than reality. And there he was at the head of it. He felt his grip on logic slipping as he bought into the role of medieval warlord. He could do this.
“We should split into two groups,” he said when they reached the river crossing. Sean and Gil and a handful of soldiers who held some higher ranking clustered around him. “One smaller group should head directly down the river to our settlement to warn and prepare the others. They might not have much time, but they can do something. The rest of us should go inland to Kutrosky’s old camp. With any luck, we can catch them before they move. If they’ve already moved,” he blew out a breath and rubbed a hand over his stubbly chin. “At least when we do catch them we’ll be able to come at them from two sides.”
He expected protest. He glanced at the faces of the men who had huddled close to listen to them. The only one who showed any sort of negative reaction was Sean. Sean’s frown threatened to make Danny laugh. He could always count on Sean to disapprove of him.
“You’re ex-military,” he told him. “You know more than I do about tactics on the ground. Why don’t you lead the group that attacks Kutrosky’s camp?”
Surprise knocked the frown off Sean’s face. “Me?”
“Think you can handle it?”
As quickly as his surprise had manifested, Sean mastered it. “Yes.”
“Good. Gil, can you lead some of the soldiers to our settlement?”
Gil gaped and stammered. “I…I guess so. I’m not much of a fighter, so if we get into trouble….”
“I’ll go with him, sir,” one of Kinn’s men volunteered.
“Good. Thanks.” He paused, no idea who the man was.
“Butterfield, sir.”
Danny nodded. “Butterfield. Pick ten good men and get down there as fast as you can.”
Butterfield saluted him and turned to the men waiting for orders to form his and Gil’s squad. A chill raced down Danny’s back. Leadership had felt so natural when he could pull strings behind the scenes in non-confrontational situations. Here, on the edge of battle, it didn’t fit any better than Kutrosky’s silver fur coat.
“The rest of you, come with us. Keep as quiet as you can for as long as you can. Be mindful that Kutrosky has prisoners, Heather, Stacey, Jonah, and Grace.” He managed to say her name without his voice cracking. “If you can subdue Kutrosky and his men without killing anyone, then aim for that, but if you have to kill someone….” He finished with a resigned nod.
The core group broke and the soldiers peeled off to organize and prepare their fellows. Gil started off with his group of soldiers, turning to wave one last time. Danny found himself waving back as his friend faded into the obscurity of blurry distance. Stacey would flay him alive if he was hurt. The thought wrapped itself through his chest, squeezing down into his gut. He didn’t want to see Gil harmed either. The man was scattered, brilliant, optimistic in the worst of times, and a good friend. He had to come out of this alive. They all did.
He turned to Sean. It was just the two of them standing alone, on the same side for a change.
“I can’t see,” he told him, making no secret of his handicap.
“What?” Sean dropped his arms from where they had been crossed tightly over his chest.
“I lost my glasses in the struggle at Kutrosky’s settlement. Without them I’m nearsighted. Everything is a blur. I need you to watch my back.”
“I—” Sean closed his mouth over whatever he was about to say. “If you can’t see, you shouldn’t be invol
ved in the fight. You could get yourself killed.”
“I thought you’d want that,” he said, a wry grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Sean lowered his head, staring at the snow. “You’re a lying, manipulative bastard, Daniel Thorne, but you saved Carrie’s life. You care about Grace. More than anyone. I don’t want you dead.”
“Good.” Danny nodded. He’d make what he could of the statement later. “Then watch my back. Help me get to the prisoners. Help me to rescue Grace.”
Understanding lit Sean’s eyes. He nodded. “I will.”
There was nothing else to say. Chances were they were rushing into a debacle. One side had well-fed and well-trained men who had orders to be cautious, the other was a bunch of half-crazy mercenaries with nothing to lose. Danny hitched his sack of supplies further over his shoulder along with the crossbow on its strap. At least he was on the side he wanted to be on instead of fighting for the wrong people for a change.
They started off in something that may have resembled a formation, picking quietly through the trees toward the field where Kutrosky’s first camp stood. The sun was most of the way to its zenith, warming the air and melting whatever snow was left in the treetops. It dripped in the forest around them like the ticking of thousands of clocks, telling them that time was up.
Danny second-guessed himself with every step. He should have gone directly south down the river. That way would have taken him home faster. He could have chosen to defend his people or stop Kutrosky from reaching them before they were ready. But instinct told him Kutrosky couldn’t have made it that far yet, not with the snowfall they’d received, not if the refugees from his people had been stranded so fast, not if Grace was with him to slow him down. He did his best to rationalize his decision, but the faint, burning hope that Grace would be out in the plains somewhere, away from the impending battle, trumped any sort of logic.
When they reached the edge of the forest Danny stopped short. His heart hammered up into his throat. Several narrow trails of smoke curled up to the sky from the direction of Kutrosky’s crash site. He couldn’t believe that he’d been right, at least to some extent. For a moment, all he could do was stand at the edge of the trees gaping at the evidence that someone was just over the slope of the plain.
