Mission

by Amy Andrews

  To the left the mountain undulated away gradually, with thick forest and many potential places to lie low. To the right the drop was more pronounced, not ninety degrees exactly but definitely sharper and with less vegetation. It was also rockier. There were flatter areas but it looked less hospitable than the other side.

  Richard thought carefully. The left side was the easier option. Finding a spot would be simpler and it would be safer terrain to be walking through once night fell and they had to leave their hiding spot and continue.

  But it was also the obvious place to find them. Richard had to try to second-guess their hunters. He knew they’d be thinking the same as he was and would probably concentrate most of their search on the left side of the mountain.

  So they had to go right. He clambered down the side, trying to hurry but be as surefooted as possible. If he fell, Holly and Tundol would have no one looking out for them. The thought made his search all the more desperate.

  Richard found a rocky platform protected by an overhang in a heavily ferned area. The thick vegetation all but concealed it from the track above and, even walking straight past it, it wasn’t easy to spot. He’d almost missed it.

  Unfortunately, as he feared, he tripped over one of the many rocky obstacles and fell, putting his arm out to break his fall to prevent sliding further down the side of the mountain. A sharp pain ripped through his biceps and he had to bite down to prevent an expletive ricocheting around the jungle. He ripped off his fatigue shirt and noticed the nasty gash spilling out thick red blood.

  Damn it! He didn’t have time for this! He reached into his pack quickly and pulled out a bandage, quickly wrapping it in place. He would inspect his injury more when they were tucked away and hidden. For now he had to get back to Holly and Tundol.

  He scrambled back to where he had left them, ignoring the pain in his arm. Holly looked scared when he lifted away the fern fronds he had cut to conceal their position. He noticed she was sheltering Tundol’s body with her own and felt his heartstrings pull hard at her efforts to protect her charge.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he whispered. ‘It’s just me.’ He was glad when the fear left her face and she loosened her hold on Tundol. ‘I’ve found a spot we can hide until tonight.’

  Richard helped the two of them down the treacherous slope to the platform. It was a snug fit and they bunched together, putting the boy between them. Richard was satisfied they were as invisible as he could make them. And he crossed his fingers and hoped for rain.

  And it did. Miraculously it rained all day. Torrential monsoon rain so typical of this time of year. Hard and steady, washing away any footprints that could be tracked and no doubt weakening the determination of the rebels. Driving rain made a manhunt hard going.

  Not long after they had settled on the platform and just after the rain had started in earnest, Richard heard the distant drone of an engine. He glanced at his companions but they were both asleep. As it came closer, Richard recognised it as a trail bike.

  He strained his ears to confirm it. Yes, it was definitely that. He didn’t recall seeing one at the top camp but it was certainly coming from that direction. They must be desperate to locate them if they were bringing out a trail bike in such dangerous, slippery conditions.

  Richard felt the throb of his injured arm and took the opportunity to inspect it a little closer. The bleeding had effectively stopped but as he pulled at the edges of the gaping wound he knew it should be sutured.

  Holly stirred and opened her eyes and caught Richard inspecting his arm.

  ‘Richard,’ she gasped, looking at the jagged wound that looked about ten centimetres long. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Shh,’ he whispered, placing his fingers against his lips. ‘It’s nothing,’ he dismissed.

  ‘Let me look,’ she insisted in an angry whisper.

  He acquiesced because he thought that at least it would shut her up. He tried not to grimace as her fingers probed the edges.

  ‘It needs stitching,’ she hissed.

  ‘Yes, but it won’t kill me. It’ll wait.’

  ‘Richard,’ she whispered, trying not to let her exasperation at his he-man attitude show, ‘it should be closed. It could become badly infected in this environment. Not to mention the scarring.’

  Richard snorted quietly. Typical of a woman to think of the scar factor. He was a man, for heaven’s sake, and a soldier to boot. A scar was nothing. ‘Well, unless you’re going to suture it there’s nothing I can do.’

  ‘What?’ she whispered. ‘Big tough guy can’t suture his own wounds?’

  ‘I have to draw the line somewhere.’ He shrugged.

  ‘I’ll do it.’ The thought of him surviving this terrible incident and then dying of infection a couple of days later was too much to bear. She loved him. She was going to do whatever it took to have all of them alive at the end of this ordeal.

  He got the suture holder and the nylon out of his kit and handed it to her silently. What she’d said made sense. Wound closure in this environment was essential. An intact integumentary system was vital in a place teeming with bacteria.

  ‘Local?’ she asked.

  He shook his head. ‘None. We’re going to have to do this the hard way.’

  Was there any other way for him? ‘Oh, Richard…no,’ she gasped in a horrified whisper.

  ‘Yes.’ He nodded. ‘It’s OK. It won’t hurt for long.’

  Holly hesitated and Richard knew she was going to need a push. ‘If you don’t think you’re up to it…’

  Holly took the bait, looking at him mutinously. How much more did she have to prove to him? Her hand trembled as she grasped the sharp instrument with the suture holders. She glared at him and instead of cringing as she forced the razor-edged curved needle through his skin she felt almost sadistically satisfied.

  He didn’t even wince. She stared at him as she looped the nylon around the tips of the stitch holder and pulled it taut. Nothing. No grimacing, no clenching of fists. Not a flicker of pain or a hint of pallor.

  The procedure became a match of wills. The rain and the presence of a slumbering Tundol faded from her consciousness. Each drive of the sharp through his skin became more forceful than the last. Damn the man! Did nothing touch him? Was he completely incapable of any emotions? Flinch, damn it!

  She met his eye and wanted to scream as he stared calmly back at her. She plunged the needle through again. How could he stoically sit and have such pain inflicted on him and still look like he didn’t need anybody? How was she ever going to reach him if she couldn’t even get him to react to extreme provocation?

  Richard’s mouth flattened into a grim line and he gritted his teeth as the needle sliced through his skin. The throb had been bad—Holly’s handiwork was worse, bordering on savage. But he knew there was more than a minor procedure happening between them. It was about more than simple suturing. It was about proving to her that he didn’t need anything or anyone. That he was tough. That he didn’t need to lean on her.

  ‘All done,’ she said, as she tied the last stitch in place, still waiting for some kind of reaction. A sigh of relief? The expulsion of a pent-up breath?

  He wordlessly handed her a waterproof dressing and she almost missed his breath stuttering into the air between them as she opened the sterile packaging. She glanced at him and realised that it had taken all his self-control to endure her ministrations and was surprised to feel no satisfaction.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, instantly contrite, as she stuck the bandage in place. Because she was. Did he realise inflicting pain on the man she loved had cost her emotionally? Sure, it’d felt good for a moment when she’d been trying to goad a reaction from him, but in the aftermath her actions had only appalled her.

  The gentleness of her fingers made up for the brutality of her suture job, and he almost forgot the throb that pulsed through his biceps. ‘It had to be done.’ He shrugged.

  She looked away. Maybe, but she could have been kinder. Holly turned to t
ell him as much but he was sitting with his head back against the rock, his eyes closed. His face looked pinched, emphasising the forbidding harshness of his features. Maybe he would sleep. Heaven knew, they both needed it.

  He tried. He really did but the throb in his arm made sleep elusive and the intermittent passing of the trail bike kept his senses alert as it travelled back and forth, hunting its prey. On a couple of occasions he also heard voices from the track above him, which made sleep impossible. Luckily no one even came close to their position.

  Tundol woke after he’d been asleep for several hours and Richard placed his fingers over his lips. The rain was belting down and he doubted if anyone could hear them, but silence was a good practice for them all to get into. He dug around in his pack and gave Tundol one of the hard biscuits from the rations he carried in his pack.

  The boy devoured it and beamed at Richard when he had finished it. Richard had to smother a laugh. The boy had the most engaging smile and Richard could tell that before an environmental disaster had orphaned him, he’d been a happy carefree kid.

  Holly woke too and accepted a biscuit after she’d pointed to Richard’s arm and he had indicated it was fine. She looked at it dubiously and Tundol nodded at her encouragingly. The biscuit tasted like sawdust, she thought as she slowly gnawed around the edges. Half was about all she could stomach and she gave the rest to Tundol, who hadn’t taken his eyes off it once. He did a good impression of the cookie monster without the noise and Holly looked at Richard and shook her head.

  The dry biscuit had made her thirsty and she mimed bringing a glass to her mouth. He pulled from his gear a small bowl similar to the one from the sterile packs and after careful surveillance of the area outside their hidey-hole he pushed the bowl beyond the overhang.

  He dragged it back in a minute later, overflowing with fresh rainwater. They drank greedily, all of them. At least water wasn’t going to be a problem, thought Holly, even if the diet was basic.

  The rain didn’t let up, which was both good and bad as far as Richard was concerned. There’d be many more water pools and muddy quagmires to traverse, but it had hindered the rebels’ search and given the fugitives cover. But it also reduced their visibility and if it continued into the night the going could be quite treacherous, particularly as they made their way toward the bottom camp.

  He looked at Holly and watched her bent head as she ran her fingers through Tundol’s hair and hummed quietly to him as she snuggled his little body close to hers and rocked gently. She was doing magnificently. They both were. He only hoped that continued.

  Richard realised suddenly how much Holly had grown during this experience. She was no longer the carefree spirit she’d been when she’d come to Abeil. This experience had stomped on that very effectively. He took a moment to lament it.

  It was the very reason he hadn’t wanted her here in the first place. He had always admired her carefree young spirit and had known from experience that places like this tended to trample on people’s souls. He had seen her face some harsh truths on this journey and unfortunately learn some stuff about humanity that no one should have to know.

  Richard dozed lightly. His eyes were closed but his senses were acutely tuned into the outside world. A voice, a twig snapping, a leaf rustling and he was fully, instantly awake. Alert. Even the lightening of the rain or the dimming of the light roused him immediately.

  Darkness descended and Holly was pleased to be moving off when Richard finally indicated he was going to check things out. It was difficult to sit in one spot, so close, and not be able to pass the time by chatting. Silence had never been a strong suit of Holly’s and the enforced muteness was frustrating.

  Richard came back and they shared a tin of cold spaghetti. The adults gave the lion’s share to the boy, knowing that as long as they drank and had something in their bellies they could rely on their bodies to find the energy they would need. Tundol needed it more than they did.

  Holly took the little boy’s hand once again and squeezed it as they prepared to move off the platform, out of the safety of hiding and into the uncertainty of exposure. He squeezed it back and grinned at her, and Holly was once again cheered by his spirit.

  They didn’t go back on the track but walked parallel to it along the side of the mountain. Richard had to use his torch a lot and it was slow going, particularly as the rain didn’t let up.

  But he wanted to get around the middle camp before they tried the track again. In fact, he was pretty sure there would be sentries all along the path so he was going to need to be extra-vigilant. He decided to keep to the rougher side of the path as it would be the least patrolled by the rebels. Let’s face it, he thought, you’d have to be crazy to attempt it, especially in the dark!

  Richard halted them after they’d been walking for a few hours. His torch told him they had reached the end of the road in this direction. The mountainside dropped away before them. They were going to have to go back up towards the track, cross over and try the other side.

  Richard, Holly and Tundol lay on their stomachs beside the track, concealed by long grass. Richard waited and watched for fifteen minutes before he was satisfied that their was no rebel activity. Even so he crawled across the path on his stomach and made Holly and Tundol follow suit, only rising to his feet once they were back amongst the trees.

  The going was much easier on this side, the slope much gentler, and there were more trees to conceal them. But he was having to use his torch more constantly as the rain meant visibility was very poor.

  Holly tapped Richard on the shoulder a couple of hours later. Tundol was out on his feet. She had been practically dragging him behind her the last hour or so. They were standing on one of the many narrow tracks that led off the main one. It was a sticky, muddy quagmire.

  ‘We need to rest for a bit,’ she shouted over the pouring rain.

  ‘Shh.’ He frowned.

  Oh, yeah, right. Like anyone could hear them over the racket of nature! Holly was sick of being silent!

  ‘Tundol is exhausted,’ she hissed.

  ‘We can’t afford to stop,’ he hissed back.

  ‘We have to! He can’t go on any more. We’re going to have to carry him.’ The rain slapped into her face and water rivulets ran down her fringe and into her eyes.

  ‘Then we carry him,’ he snapped in a loud whisper, ‘but we don’t stop.’

  She glared at him mutinously. The rain ran over his unshaven jaw and droplets of water hung off his long black eyelashes. Even mad as hell and in the pouring rain, there was something about him that just made her want to kiss him. Loving someone who didn’t love you back was awful. Loving someone who seemed incapable of loving was hell!

  ‘He’s a child,’ she hissed at him as she picked up the sleepy boy and cuddled him to her chest. Tundol laid his head against her breast and shut his eyes.

  ‘We can’t stop.’

  They glared at each other for a few seconds, breathing hard. And then something so totally unexpected happened Holly didn’t even have time to scream. The ground beneath her feet subsided, knocking her on her rear, and she was swept down the mountain with a very awake and terrified Tundol clinging to her.

  Richard was also caught up in the mini-landslide. It was like a natural waterslide, the well-defined narrow track becoming a shute that barrelled them along at high speed, along with mud and rainwater.

  Holly held on to the frightened child for dear life as her butt hit every stone, twig and tree root on the path. She didn’t think about the possibility of the ride ending by them plunging over a precipice and falling to their deaths or ploughing at great speed into a tree. She just held on to Tundol and shut her eyes.

  To think she had spent money at water parks to give her this exact thrill—never again. After a trip on mother nature’s slide she’d be happy if she never saw another in her lifetime.

  Her heart thundered and she could feel Tundol’s beating a frantic rhythm as well as she held him tight. Leaves slap
ped at her face and arms, whipping her as she rushed past. Down, down, down they went. She refused to think that this could all end badly after all they’d been through so far. It just wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be fair.

  And she’d never told him she loved him, she thought as her life flashed before her. That just wasn’t right either. They might be words he didn’t want to hear but Holly knew that she was going to tell him whether he liked it or not. She didn’t want to take those words unspoken to her grave. She wanted them out so he knew. So he knew that someone in the world loved him.

  Then, as suddenly as it started, the ride stopped and she felt herself lifting into the air and then falling, falling. She held Tundol tight and prepared to fall to her death. When she landed on her butt in a muddy swamp she couldn’t quite believe her luck.

  Richard splashed down beside her a few moments later.

  They were all silent for a few moments, reflecting on the ride. The rain continued to sluice over them and they could hear the falling water behind them.

  And then Tundol giggled. He sat up and rested back against her bent knees and laughed. They looked at him for a few seconds and then Richard joined him. His deep chuckle gave her goose-bumps and she stared at him in amazement. What happened to being silent?

  Tundol chattered away excitedly at them in his own language, giggling intermittently and pointing at them. Now the ride was over and they were alive, he was obviously revelling in the adrenaline rush. Holly laughed too because suddenly she was alive and that was all that mattered. She had lived to tell Richard she loved him.

  ‘Let’s rest for a couple of hours,’ Richard said, sobering slightly. He figured they were so off track the rebels wouldn’t be looking for them here. At first light he’d try to figure out where the hell they were.

  Richard located some reasonably dry shelter beneath a big old tree. They took cover under its huge branches, sitting with their backs to the trunk. Tundol lay down on the soft mattress of leaves and Holly and Richard reclined against the trunk so that their bodies were mostly lying flat on the ground but their heads were supported by the trunk.