by MK Clark
“What are you doing?”
Don didn’t answer.
Guy watched him passively for a moment before asking, “You think they’re bugged?”
Don met Guy’s eyes. “What other possibility is there?”
“Lots,” Guy answered. “All just as plausible as that. Personally, I’m in favor of the infrared idea.”
“That would make sense, if they already knew our general position. Since they couldn’t have known that, there must be something else.”
“Not if it was by satellite.”
Don didn’t answer, just kept looking. It didn’t take long to find the tracking beacon. There was no way to remove it. He gave the SA a mournful look before turning to his companions. “We have to get rid of the guns,” he said, “and the grenade. We’ll have a better chance of survival if we leave the weapons behind.” The boys looked aghast at the thought, but they knew Don was right.
“I don’t think it’s just the guns,” Eli cut in. “How did they find us in the first place?”
“Luck?”
Eli shook his head, unbuckled his duty belt and held it up. “How badly do you want to win?”
There was a round of swearing, and then belts began to drop to the floor. Don bit his lip and unlatched his own. His flask hit the floor with a dull thud. It was a risky move, but Eli was right.
“This means we need to get a move on,” Tony said. “If they’re tracking us, they probably already know we’re here.”
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Guy finished.
Don looked at everyone remaining in his company. Determination hardened their faces and burned in their eyes. Don stood, leaving the weapon to rest on the sandy floor. He strode to the entrance of the cave and peered out into the curtain of water.
“Well,” came Tony’s voice from behind, “the good news is the rain will cover our tracks.”
Chapter 8.5
November 5, 625 T.A.
“Lieutenant, this had better be important. It’s my youngest daughter’s sixth birthday, and I promised my wife I’d be there. I have five minutes left to save the world, and then I’m going home to be a daddy for my little girl.”
“I understand, sir. This will only take a few minutes.”
“Does it have to do with saving humanity?”
“Sir, yes, sir. It’s about O’Hara, sir.”
“What does the major general want now?”
“Not the general, sir. It’s his son.”
“Fine, out with it.”
“He’s missing, sir.”
“Again?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What for? He got what he wanted. I authorized it! Did someone threaten to send him home?”
“There was an exercise Trainee O’Hara was involved in at Camp Lorenzo. He and seven other trainees disappeared four days into the exercise, and have been missing for two. They started an extensive search yesterday. All the trainees have returned but those eight.”
“That boy makes my life difficult.”
“Should I notify his father, sir?”
“Lord, no! Can you imagine the hell the major general would raise?”
“The base commander would like to know if you have orders for him.”
“Damn! My wife is going to kill me.”
Chapter 9
November 5, 625 T.A.
“Nueva Carolina,” Don breathed.
“Food,” a voice whispered behind him.
The boys stared numbly at their surroundings. The city was covered in a blanket of snow. It was only a foot deep here in the city, but it had neared three in the mountains. The roads were covered with a mud-colored slush. The boys doubted they could get any dirtier, wetter, or colder if they stepped in it, but they all skirted the puddles when they could.
Don had long since lost all feeling in his hands and feet. He watched from the sidewalk as the city moved, unfazed by their presence. Don glanced at the others; their faces were tired, hair matted with mud. Their clothes were dirty and torn. They looked like vagabonds. Don let his gaze roam the city streets once more. How could no one notice them? Not one person even stopped what they were doing to gawk at the sight.
Don licked his lips, cracked and bloody from the cold. “All right,” he said at last. “We’ll meet you back here in an hour. Bring anything of use.”
Guy grunted and left, accompanied by Luke. Zeik tapped Don’s shoulder and followed John. Dooley and the other Black Knight started off in another direction. Tony stared at Don, waiting.
Don watched the others leave, shuffling through the snow, shivering to keep out the cold. Their jackets were not meant for weather this extreme. Don couldn’t count the times he’d thought that as they trudged through the freezing rain, sleet, and finally snow.
It had been a unanimous decision to come to the city. It wasn’t to contact base and request a pickup. No. They were intent on seeing this exercise through to the end. They would make it back to base without being caught. Instead, Nueva Carolina provided the temptations of food, warmth, and perhaps a bit of rest. All of these outweighed any risks of being caught.
They had no doubt that the city was being watched and that they would be spotted if they entered, but they could be found just as easily in the wilderness. More easily, depending on the technology being used to find them. Heat sensors would be useless in the city.
Zeik’s limping figure turned a corner, and Don sighed. Zeik wasn’t limping from being shot. The barb in his leg had long since stopped working. All of them had. Anyone who had been wounded was no longer bothered by the barbs. Don figured the weather had been too much for the simulated bullets. Between the soaking rain and the freezing temperatures, Don didn’t blame them for malfunctioning. In fact, he was grateful for it. It was one less thing the boys had to deal with.
Don turned and looked at Tony. “You ready?”
Tony shrugged indifferently. His eyes were hollow and tired. Don was sure he carried the same look.
He followed the trail Guy had made in the snow, and then turned off it at a crosswalk. He stepped in the footprints of a stranger as they made their way farther into the city. They were supposed to be looking for a map or something which could point them toward Camp Lorenzo. Food was also high on their list of things to find.
Tony coughed behind him. Don frowned reflexively. It was like part of his lungs was being hacked up. He’d been doing that since the day before, and it had steadily worsened. Tony needed to get dry and warm, or he was going to be seriously ill.
Don’s eye caught a sign. He ushered Tony toward the shop door. A bell tinkled as they walked inside the quaint store. It was full of trinkets, a tourist stop. More than anything else, it was warm. The two looked around the shop from the doorway. A head lifted from behind the register, eyes coming to rest on them. Don avoided the glance and headed toward a wall covered in little chips, cards, and guides. He let his eyes roam the titles.
“You’re going to have to leave,” a voice interrupted.
Don turned slowly to the woman working the store.
Her gaze was stern and critical. “You kids from the streets think we’re here just to keep you warm and comfortable. Well, we’re not, and you scare off all the customers. Soon enough, we’ll find ourselves on the streets, so why don’t you move on?”
Don blinked. He was too tired to really comprehend the kind of heart it would take to turn someone back out on the cold, barren streets when all they wanted was a bit of warmth. He, however, was not in the store for warmth alone, although that had been part of the reason.
“I need a map.”
“You have money?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t see as how I can give you one,” she answered.
“I just need to look at it,” Don explained.
Her eyes raked across him, and Don thought she was going to turn him away. The next moment, she stood and came around the counter. “What kind of map are you looking for?”
“Som
ething that shows Nueva Carolina, the Sierra Morena, and the area around it.”
The woman stared at the wall for a moment and then plucked a computer chip from the wall. She brought it to the counter and plugged it in. The counter top flickered and came to life. “There. Have your look.”
The map displayed on the counter showed him everything he needed. Don brought his dirty hands as close to the map as he dared. At first, he looked at it, trying to find where they were. The woman quickly pointed it out to him without his asking. He thanked her quietly and studied the map for a bit, memorizing what he could about the city and the terrain around it, and the location of the camp. He was certain now that he could get them back using one of three different routes.
He finally nodded and stepped back. “I’m finished. Thank you.”
“I suppose you’re going to ask for food next. Lord knows you look hungry enough.” The woman shut off the display. Don opened his mouth to say no, but the woman hushed him with a wave of her hand. “You’re all alike, beggars to the core. You show a bit of kindness, and they never let you be.” She turned back to him and Tony and placed her hands on her hips. Her lips were pressed tightly together. Despite that, Don could see her bottom lip trembling, and for all their sharpness, her eyes held pity in them. She plunged her hand into her pocket and came out with a small plastic token. “Here,” she said and shoved it into his hand. “It’s a voucher. Take it across the street. Get yourselves some bread.” The woman took one last look at them and shooed them out the door, eyes wet.
Don and Tony traded looks on the sidewalk. Did they really look that pitiful? Don still had the voucher clutched in his fist, and Tony nodded to the other side of the street, where another small shop stood. The windows were full of cakes, cookies, breads, and all sorts of treats.
This time when they opened the door, they were confronted immediately. “More of Marie’s beggars?” the baker asked, his voice booming throughout the store. “I saw ya coming from her store.” He wiped his flour-covered hands on brown pants. “And ain’t ya some interesting specimens. All decked out like little soldiers. Probably all ya could steal, right? Anyone else would’ve hunted you down for their merchandise.”
Don and Tony stood silent. Words to answer the man escaped them. Don held out his hand and showed the baker his voucher. “She said to get some bread.”
The three of them stared for a moment at Don’s trembling hand, numb fingers clutching the piece of plastic. Then Tony coughed, his body shuddering. The baker looked from one to the other and then steered them into the back of the bakery. “Have a seat,” he said and pointed to the chairs by an oven. A few children already sat there, their clothes torn and ragged, hands wrapped around warm bread rolls.
They sank into the chairs wearily. The warmth from the oven was almost unbearable to their frozen bodies, but neither Tony nor Don could bring himself to move from the spot. Don’s eyes were closed when the baker returned, but he opened them as a roll was thrust into his hands. His fingers screamed in pain from the shock of such heat after the days of bone-aching cold. He juggled the roll between hands before letting it come to rest on his lap. His stomach grumbled at the thought of food.
As his body warmed, Don considered taking his shoes off and letting his feet thaw. He stared at his muddy boots for a moment. His feet were going to hurt if he warmed them up, and then they would just hurt more when he went outside again. Better to stay cold. It was already going to be hard enough to go back into the freezing temperatures. Don looked sideways at Tony, whose head was bent forward, chin resting softly on his breastbone, eyes shut. His hands circled the untouched roll as his chest rose and fell, breath rattling quietly.
Don turned to look at the other children. They gazed with wide eyes at him and Tony. All of them were younger than him and his friend. All of them looked like they’d been on the streets for years. Don looked down at his roll. This roll should have been for one of those children, someone who lived on the streets. As hungry, tired, and cold as he was at the moment, Don still had a place to go. Don stirred and stood slowly. He didn’t feel comfortable staying here anymore. Perhaps it was the guilty feeling that had slowly crept up on him, or the nagging voice in his head ever since the baker had said little soldiers, that urged him to leave. He touched Tony’s shoulder. Tony looked up at him slowly, blinked and stood. They stuffed the rolls into their pockets and turned to go.
The baker stood in the doorway watching them. “Going so soon?” Don nodded and walked forward warily. The baker stepped out of his way and let them pass. Tony thanked the man, and they exited the shop. Don drew in a quick breath. His cheeks tingled in the biting cold. Maybe they’d been a little too quick to leave, Don thought.
“Walking will keep us warmer,” Tony suggested, and Don agreed. They turned to the direction they had started their venture from and began to make their way back. They weren’t in a hurry; they had learned a little from the map, and had gotten some food. Still, if they could scavenge anything else, they would.
Nothing caught their eye as they walked, but then, nothing had caught their eye the first time around, either. No one was there when they returned and Tony sat down in the shadows of the alley as Don leaned against the wall, trying to look inconspicuous. He wasn’t sure why he tried. No one cared that they were here.
Guy and Luke were the next to return. They hadn’t managed to find any information about the city or the camp, but they had run across some venders and had brought back something that smelled like olives. They also brought news that made Don’s heart sink. The city was under surveillance.
Don and Guy discussed their options while Luke stamped his feet, blowing on his hands for warmth. Don drew a map on some snow with his fingers to show Guy what he had seen. Minutes ticked by. Tony rested, and Luke paced impatiently while Don and Guy debated in whispers.
It was Luke who finally said what they all wondered. “Where are they? It’s well past the hour. We can’t keep waitin’ here.”
“He’s right,” Guy responded. “We’ll be found. They’re scouting the city out. They probably have the others by now.”
Don frowned. He didn’t want to abandon the rest of the boys, but he also agreed strongly with Guy and Luke. He bit his lip, blood welling up in the cracks as it split again. His eyes swept the length of the street.
“Guy, you and Luke head over there,” Don said, nodding to the other side of the street. “Pick a spot and hide out. If something happens to us, you can still get out of here. I want to give the others a little more time. It’s a big city. Anything could have happened.”
Guy and Luke traded looks, then shrugged. Don paced for a moment and then stopped, eyes resting on Tony. The best way to aid Tony would be to turn themselves in, but then they would fail the exercise. Tony wouldn't allow that, nor could Don bring himself to do it. At least not yet. So, Don merely stood and felt guilty every time Tony coughed.
“Hello, friend,” a voice called, and Don turned to see a boy about his age, bright blue eyes staring out from a dirty face. Don stiffened immediately. The boy had surprised him. Tony stirred and watched with an unreadable expression.
The boy smiled. “Don’t look now, but you’re in a mess of trouble. Relax a bit, don’t draw attention.”
Don forced his muscles to loosen, but his mind was racing.
“That’s it,” the boy said. “I just saw some friends of yours get arrested not two streets down.”
“How do you know they’re our friends?” Don asked abruptly.
The boy walked over to Tony and held out a hand to help him up. Tony stared at the hand as the boy talked.
“Because they looked just like you: dirty, cold, and hungry. Oh, and they were in camouflage. You know, if you don’t want to be seen, you shouldn’t stand out so much.”
Tony raised an eyebrow, shrugged, and let the boy pull him up.
Don stood, indecisive for a moment, “Well, thanks for the warning. We’ll be going now.”
The bo
y considered them, “You’re going to get caught, you know.”
Don stared at him. “That’s helpful,” he replied.
“It is,” the boy said happily. “Because I’ve decided to help you. Now, call out your friends over there behind the stairs, and we’ll get out of here lickety-split.”
Don and Tony exchanged glances, then turned to look at the boy. “Who are you?”
“Call me Pepito, and perhaps it would be better if we just went over there to them, no?”
Don stared as the boy began to walk toward Guy and Luke, then started after him. There really wasn’t much else to do besides refuse, but the boy already knew where their comrades were.
“Who’s he?” Guy asked gruffly when they came into view.
“He said to call him Pepito,” Don answered, “and he saw the others get arrested a few blocks down. He wants to help.”
Now that they were out of the street, the boy wore a grim look on his face. “Of course, you don’t have to trust me, but I really am your only hope at this point.”
“Why do you want to help us?” Luke asked cautiously.
“Because people have been looking for you for two days. Everywhere we go, pictures of you get shoved into people's faces. Now, I don’t know who you are, but it looks like you need some serious aid.”
The four digested this for a moment, and looked amongst themselves. Guy gave a tiny headshake, Luke looked reserved, and Tony frowned. The boy seemed to know what Don was going to say, so he continued. “If I was working with them, you wouldn’t get two blocks before being caught.”
“All right,” Don said. “What do you have in mind?”
They moved quickly and quietly, struggling to keep pace with the boy in such a foreign city. Tony stopped a few times, overcome by coughing, but they grabbed him under the arms and kept him moving.
The farther they went, the more aware Don became of how much ground they were covering. He knew they would never be able to retrace their steps. Pepito moved too quickly for anyone to really take in their surroundings, and he took too many turns down too many dark alleyways. If Don and the others were forced to run for it, they would be lost before they even started.
