“If they’re with the Progression, it’s hard telling what they’ll do.”
Liberty looked past him to where the girls sat atop the horse. “I’m not taking her off the horse, Connor.”
He turned and watched the girls. They talked and giggled about something. Braden tagged along behind Jeff, heading toward Noke’s gurney. Connor sighed and shook his head. “We’ll need to keep an eye on them.”
Liberty leaned against Connor’s shoulder and said, “Thank you.”
He nodded, uncertain of the wisdom of his choice. “I’m sorry. You’re right and I shouldn’t have listened in at the tent.”
“I’m sorry, too. I know you were in a tight spot. It’s not a big deal. Just a little… embarrassing.”
Connor’s brows arched. “Embarrassing?”
Color shot into Liberty’s cheeks. “Yeah. We’ll talk about it later.”
“Right. I’d better go saddle my horse and catch up to Boom. Be careful. If anything happens, stay with Ash.”
“I will. You be careful too.”
Connor leaned forward and kissed her forehead, smiling against it. “I’m always careful,” he whispered.
* * *
Once the platoon started moving, Connor looked back at the camp site. Nothing but graves remained, and he was more than happy to leave those behind. Turning to face forward, he clucked to his horse and drifted to the left side of the platoon—opposite of Boom. Once there, he patrolled up and down the line, keeping an eye on the equipment as well as the soldiers.
The platoon traveled southwest, over the rough forest terrain, coming to an abrupt stop on the river bank. Boom dismounted and walked toward the weathered John Deere barge wagon that carried the camp’s gear, motioning for Connor to follow him. Connor hopped down from his horse and walked behind his friend. They halted toward the front of the wagon, where Pearson patted the neck of one of the two horses hitched to the wagon.
“What’s the problem?” Boom asked.
The cowboy stepped around the horse and pointed at the bottom of the wagon. “The wheels. The river bed is too soft. It’ll never make it across while weighted down with all this gear.”
“You sure?” Boom asked.
Pearson stared at the river. “Yep. Unless there’s concrete under that water. The wagon’s struggling with the dirt. These girls are having a heck of a time.” He patted the hindquarters of a horse hitched to the wagon.
Turning toward Boom, Connor asked, “Unload and walk it across?”
Boom glanced at the sky, and then crossed himself. “That appears to be our only option.”
Connor kneaded his temples. They could try to drag the loaded wagon across, but if it got stuck and flipped over they’d lose the supplies. The risk was too great. He tried to come up with a better plan—one that wouldn’t leave them exposed in the river for a half hour at best—but nothing came to him.
Resigned to unloading the wagon, Connor said, “On your order, Captain.”
Boom sent six soldiers to secure the opposite bank and surrounding area. Then he positioned two more soldiers, to watch up and down the river. He ordered the rest to start unloading the wagon.
Connor found Ashley still atop the horse, with Kylee. Kylee gave him a big, fake smile. He nodded back and turned to search for Liberty, finding her with her team as they gently lowered Osberg’s gurney to the ground. As the soldiers ran off toward the wagon, Liberty sat beside the gurney and drank deeply from her canteen, calling for Ashley and Kylee to come to her.
Knowing he could trust Liberty to keep an eye on the girls, Connor turned his attention back to the wagon and the troops. Once the supplies were safely on the opposite bank and behind the relative safety of the tree line, two soldiers—led by Pearson—started walking the horses, hitched to the wagon, across. Pearson still wore his cowboy boots. He wobbled a few times, but managed to stay on his feet. The wagon advanced at a slow and steady pace until about a third of the way through the river, when it suddenly stopped.
Pearson backed the wheels up, then tugged at the reins. The horses lurched forward, and then stopped again. He shook his head and tried again. The wagon was stuck. Several soldiers ran out into the water to help. They pushed on the back of the trailer. It gained momentum and then slammed into a stop once again, the trailer shaking. Connor feared the whole thing would fall apart if they hit it that hard again. Boom must have shared his fears, because he shouted out an order and Shortridge ducked under the water to figure out the problem. Seconds ticked by as he stayed under, and the entire platoon went deathly still, watching the river. Then suddenly, Shortridge resurfaced and announced that a giant rock—too large and heavy to move—was lodged in front of the two front wheels. Pearson backed the wagon up and circled around to miss the rock.
The whole ordeal took entirely too long. Connor couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. He searched for the girls, and found Ashley talking to Liberty. Kylee stared at him. He leveled a stare back at her and she looked away. He shook off his annoyance and stepped toward Boom. Gunfire erupted. Connor’s horse reared. Tightening his hold on the reins, he ran the horse over to a tree and tied him up.
Boom shouted orders. Connor scanned the tree line, looking for the shooters. More shots rang out. About two hundred yards down on the east bank, he saw muzzle flashes, so he crouched behind a fallen tree and steadied his rifle. Once he saw movement through his scope, he took a breath to steady his aim and squeezed the trigger. One soldier went down. Connor fired again. Another figure crumpled. Stein joined Connor at the tree, and the two gunned down two more attackers. The rest of the enemy soldiers retreated back into the trees, disappearing from view.
Boom motioned for Connor to cross. Connor fell in line beside Ashley and Liberty, watching the tree line and hoping they made it.
The hooves of Connor’s horse had just barely reached the opposite bank when the next series of shots rang out.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Liberty
WHEN WE GOT to the river, I patted down Ashley’s mare nose and told her what a good girl she was. “How’s she doing?” I asked Ashley.
“Good. But I wish I knew what to call her. ‘Girl’ is getting a little old.”
I nodded. “She needs a name. You ladies should give her one.”
Ashley and Kylee put their heads together while I looked for Braden, finding him in the wagon. He was helping the men unload. I smiled, thankful that the boy seemed to be fitting in just fine.
“Cinnamon,” Ashley declared.
“Hmm?”
“The horse. She’s the color of cinnamon,” Kylee added. “Don’t ya think?”
Her coat resembled more sugar than cinnamon, but since the horse didn’t object, I didn’t either. “Yep. Cinnamon it is.”
The girls each patted Cinnamon and muttered her name a few times, as if trying to commit it to memory.
Our impromptu naming ceremony was interrupted by a series of gunshots. I reached for Cinnamon’s reins, expecting the mare to panic, but she just stood there and watched me while her tail swished back and forth.
Promising Cinnamon apples and carrots, I tugged on her reins and jogged her to the cover of the trees, where I gave Ashley strict instructions to stay hidden and watch for Progression soldiers. With her as safe as I could keep her for the time being, I ran back to see how I could help our soldiers.
More shots echoed throughout the valley.
A black gelding, with stuffed saddle bags, reared and wrenched its lead rope from a soldier. Knowing how badly we needed those supplies, I lunged for the gelding’s rope. The horse was too fast and too strong. Rough fibers bit into the flesh of my hands. The rope slid through my grasp. Empty handed, I fell forward and landed face down in the dirt.
The whole embarrassing ordeal took maybe ten seconds. Before I had the chance to be mortified, another horse’s hooves thundered straight at my head. They came down inches from my face as I rolled to the side and pushed myself up. After that, I got out of the
way. I sat beside Osberg and assured him everything would be alright. I don’t know how reassured he felt, though, since he was still out cold. Ashley and Kylee were still huddled atop Cinnamon, safe and sound in the trees, and Jeff was standing protectively in front of Braden while trying to calm the horses hitched to the trailer.
Connor crouched behind a fallen tree, his rifle spewing out shells. Soldiers pushed the wagon and horses across the river toward the opposite bank. Feeling helpless, I continued to huddle close to Osberg.
Then, suddenly, the gunfire stopped, leaving my ears still ringing. The remaining horses calmed. Boom’s voice shouted orders I couldn’t quite make out in a tone that screamed of urgency. Whatever we were doing, we needed to do it fast. After motioning for Ashley and Kylee to rejoin us, I stood and took my place at the foot of Osberg’s gurney.
Ashley’s eyes were round and her hands shook when she reined Cinnamon to a stop beside me. “That was… wow! Did you see those other horses? They freaked, but Cinnamon was so calm.”
I looked down at my rope-burned hands. Blood oozed from a couple of open cuts. I dug into the small med-pack stored on the gurney and grabbed alcohol swabs and bandages.
“Saw them and tried to stop one.” I handed Kylee the bandages and held up my hands toward her. “Will you please clean and cover these?”
The rest of Osberg’s team arrived and got in place to heft the gurney.
“Quickly?” I added.
Kylee bandaged my wounds. I barely had time to thank her before the team lifted Osberg’s gurney. Boom shouted and gestured at our team to move forward. We broke into a run and rushed past him. Then Connor joined us.
“You two okay?” he asked Ashley and Kylee.
“Yep, Cinnamon didn’t even spook,” Ashley said.
We hurried down the bank and into the water. Icy water rushed up my calves. Cinnamon plunged into the water beside us without so much as a flinch. Forget apples. The horse deserved her own orchard.
“Hurry and get to those trees,” I told Ashley, pointing at the opposite bank.
In response, she clucked and gave the horse her rein. Cinnamon broke into a trot and they scampered to the other side. My sneakers kept slipping on the slick river stones. More than once, I jostled Osberg and the crew before I caught myself. The group slowed, and I started testing each step before committing to it.
The deepest part of the river came just above my knees, and although the current was swift, we were in no danger of being swept down river. The day was chilly, but the exertion of carrying Osberg kept me warm. The frigid water bit into my skin and by the time we reached the opposite bank, my teeth chattered loudly. Nobody complained about the cold, and I had no intention on being the first, so I closed my mouth and concentrated on putting one frozen foot in front of the other.
We climbed up the bank and stumbled toward the tree line. Shots rang out again. Our team of tired bodies, instantly renewed by the gunshots, kicked it into high gear. We rushed for the safety of the trees, and then gently laid our burden down on the grass. The soldiers pulled their guns from their backs and ran back toward the river. Jeff sprinted by me, with Braden hot on his heels.
I let Jeff pass, but put out my arm to snag the boy. “Whoa. Where do you think you’re going?”
“With him.” Braden writhed and wiggled, trying to get free.
“Why?”
“They might need my help,” he said.
“They have guns. You don’t.”
Magee arrived and started looking over Osberg. “How’s he doing?”
“He stayed asleep the whole time.”
“Good. That’s what we want.” He motioned toward Braden who had wriggled out of my grasp while I was distracted. “The boy is leaving.”
I thanked him for the heads up and grabbed Braden by the arm. “I need help.” I pointed at the wagon. All its supplies lay scattered in the dirt.
Braden turned pleading eyes on me.
“Come on, Brae, we need to get the wagon loaded before they get back. This’ll be a huge help to them.”
Braden wanted to argue with me. I could tell by the way his teeth clenched when he looked past me to the trees where Jeff had disappeared. Magee showed up to check on Osberg. The medic cleared his throat and gave the boy a hard stare.
I laid a hand on Braden’s shoulder and directed his gaze back at me. “Please? I can’t lift those boxes by myself.”
He huffed and he puffed, but he finally turned and followed me to the wagon. Ashley and Kylee dismounted and helped us as well. It was hard, heavy work, but together we got the wagon loaded in no time. Feeling accomplished and worn out, Braden and I leaned against the wagon wheel. Before I’d even had the chance to catch my breath, soldiers began returning. A few of them headed to finish loading the wagon, and looked surprised and thankful to see it already done.
“See?” I asked, nudging Braden. “We done good.”
He smiled back at me.
A stoic, dark-skinned man who Connor had once introduced as Master Sergeant Staten barked out an order, and the soldiers’ surprise melded into determination as they shouldered discarded packs and prepared to move again. Jeff ran through the trees and made a beeline straight for us.
“Time to mount up, ladies,” he said to Ashley and Kylee. “Come on, I’ll help you.”
He led them toward Cinnamon, with Braden in tow.
Master Sergeant Staten blew past me like a thunderstorm, barking additional orders as he ran. “Pearson, get those horses moving! Soseki, you’ve got lead. Get us out of here!”
The soldiers sprang into action like a colony of ants preparing for a storm. I hightailed it to Osberg’s gurney, arriving as the rest of team lifted him without me. I reached for my handle just as the group lurched forward. Struggling to keep up, I spared one last glance over my shoulder, searching for Ashley. I was relieved to see her perched atop Cinnamon with Kylee behind her. Jeff and Braden were helping with Noke’s gurney. Gunfire still resounded behind us, and I couldn’t find Connor or Boom. The team broke into a jog and I was forced to keep up, or fall on my face.
After we’d ran for a while, and I noticed Connor and Boom were still missing, I asked, “Where are the rest of the men?”
“Holding them off,” replied one soldier. “They’re giving us a chance to get a head start, then they’ll catch up.”
What?
The world seemed to stop moving. I briefly wondered if I should run back and try to help them, but really, what could I do? I was much more useful here, helping carry Osberg. As we jogged through the forest, I kept looking behind us, hoping to catch a glimpse of the men, but I only saw trees. My feet kept pace with the team, but my heart lagged behind, wondering if I’d ever see Connor again.
We ran until the sounds of battle faded into the distance, and then we ran some more. Just when I thought my legs were going to fall off, Staten shouted an order and we slowed to a brisk walk. Following the lead of my group, I stumbled forward for what seemed like an eternity. We marched over uneven terrain, through vegetation that grew tall enough to brush my thighs. My river-soaked jeans and sneakers felt heavy, making the trek that much more difficult. The stitch in my side evolved into ravenous hunger pains, making me regret sleeping through breakfast.
As if the walk wasn’t difficult enough, the heavy rain clouds no longer held back the inevitable. Rain came through breaks in the trees, giant drops pelted my head before sliding down the back of my neck. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I used my free hand to yank my hair free of the braid that constrained it, providing a little more warmth and protection.
Osberg seemed to fare much better. He looked nice and cozy under a mound of blankets covered by ponchos. Every once in a while, we would break long enough for Magee to check on the two patients. During those times, I’d stretch and drink deeply from my canteen. The breaks never lasted long enough to do much else, though.
Exhausted and drenched, the platoon continued until darkness hid the landscape. By sheer
force of will I kept up with my team, despite my constant desire to release my hold on Osberg’s gurney and topple over. By the time Staten ordered us to stop, I was beyond spent. The team lowered Osberg, and I had to convince my cramping fingers to release their hold on the gurney so I could stumble to the wagon to retrieve my tent.
I slogged through the mud, searching for a relatively flat surface upon which to pitch my tent. Then I pulled a flashlight out of my bag and got to work.
“What do you think you’re doing? Turn that off!” someone snapped.
Master Sergeant Staten appeared in my beam, glaring at me. Confused and surprised, I fumbled the flashlight and it fell to the ground, still switched on. I reached for it, but Staten moved faster. He snatched it up and switched it off.
“Are you trying to get us all killed?” he asked.
“N-no. Sorry, Sir.” I replied.
“Well, the first sergeant isn’t here, so you’re going to have to start thinking for yourself. Let’s start now. Any idea why a flashlight, in the dark, while we’re running from people who are shooting at us, might be a bad idea?”
I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed silent.
“Let’s try again. Do you see anyone else using a flashlight?”
I glanced around. Not only were the soldiers not using flashlights, but I could see their silhouettes. They’d stopped what they were doing to watch our exchange. Heat crept up my spine. “Again, I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to put the platoon in danger. Can I please put up my tent now?”
“Well, nobody else is going to do it for you.”
“I understand that, Sir, and I’m perfectly capable. Been doing it since I was ten.”
He tapped my flashlight against his palm. “I’ll just hold onto this for you. You can have it when your boyfriend gets back.”
The cold exhaustion that had plagued me all day, instantly melted away. Heat filled my veins as I clenched my fists and resisted the urge to tell this self-inflated bully exactly what I thought of him.
Liberty's Hope (Perseverance Book 2) Page 12
