Litty’s eyes grew wide. “Ducky?”
He sighed and placed her on the seat beside him. “Don’t worry. I’ll find Ducky. She’s probably right here somewhere.”
He heard the train’s shrill whistle again. They were ready to leave. The doors were still open, but there was no one left in the station.
Then he remembered bumping into the other passenger at the opposite end of the carriage. Litty had probably dropped Ducky there. He knelt beside her. “Don’t move, Litty. I think I know where Ducky is. I’m going to go get her, and I’ll be right back, okay?”
Litty bobbed her head.
Daniel hurried back to the spot where he had collided with the sandy-haired man. He looked all everywhere. No sign of the stuffed animal.
The train whistled again and lurched into motion. He gave up—maybe someone else had picked it up—and made his way back to his seat. When he was a couple steps away, he froze in his tracks.
Litty was gone.
The train began to pull away from the station, slowly at first, but picking up speed.
“Litty?” He glanced around. Had she wandered off? Was she hiding? “Litty!” People looked at him. He ignored them. He began to panic. The train moved a bit faster.
Then he looked out the window. And saw her. Standing on the platform, alone. Ducky hanging loosely from her hand at her side. Her eyes, big and blue, confused, not understanding, watching the train leave.
He screamed, but no sound came out.
Litty reached out with her free hand. Her lips mouthed one word. Danny.
Chapter Two
Daniel sprinted down the length of the car, looking for an emergency break. He had to get out. “Stop the train! Stop the train!”
The other passengers swung their heads as he passed them by. Some of them peered out the windows; others pretended not to notice him. He vaguely heard someone shouting behind him, but he didn’t stop.
The train picked up speed, and the tunnel was fast approaching. If the train made it inside, he’d have no chance of getting out. Daniel dashed to the door that led to the platform between cars and yanked on the handle. The door was locked. He backed up and gave it a hard kick, but it still wouldn’t budge.
People were starting to pay more attention now. Someone shouted for him to sit back down, that the train wasn’t going to stop.
He grabbed a briefcase from the rack above the seats. “Move!”
Passengers scurried out of the way as he swung his arms in a full circle. The briefcase smashed into the window. A web of cracks spread across the thick glass, but the window remained intact. The blow knocked him off balance and he tumbled forward onto the seats. He picked himself up.
“Someone stop him!”
He shut out the voices and pounded at the glass with the corner of the briefcase until it shattered. Howling wind rushed through the window, and he squinted against the gale. He heard a rush of footsteps behind him.
He hoisted himself up into a crouching position on the sill, ready to jump. The ground below him was a brown and green blur, but the train steadily neared the tunnel. He had to jump now.
Taking a deep breath, he gathered his strength to be able to clear the tracks and hopefully break his fall on the grassy slope beyond them. Daniel sprang forward, but before his feet could leave the window frame, a pair of strong arms wrapped around his middle and yanked him back inside. He yelped as he crashed down on top of his assailant. His head connected with the armrest of one of the seats, and he crumpled onto the floor.
* * *
The clacking of the train wheels speeding down the steel tracks slowly brought him back to consciousness. His head throbbed. He groaned and propped himself up on his elbows. It was dark now, and cold. Piles of large crates lined the walls from floor to ceiling, tied down with cinched ropes. Thin beams of light slipped through the cracks where a sliding door was bolted shut and broke the darkness just enough for Daniel to see a large figure sitting against the opposite wall with his arms folded across his chest, looking back at him.
“What is this place?” His voice scratched his dry throat.
The figure leaned forward, revealing a round face with a firm jaw and sandy-colored hair that curled sloppily down over his ears. He didn’t look much older than Daniel. “One of the storage cars. You made quite a scene, and—well, people were uncomfortable with your body just…there. So they moved you here.”
Daniel robbed the back of his head and pushed himself up to a kneeling position. “Why didn’t they stop the train? Why are we still moving?”
The man shifted his weight. “I saw what happened—the little girl. I don’t think anyone else did, though.”
“That’s my sister! Why didn’t you say anything?” Daniel asked heatedly as he stood up, spreading his feet apart so the lurching train wouldn’t knock him down again.
“Too busy saving your life.”
Daniel clenched his fist. “You’re the one who pulled me back in.”
The man nodded, and Daniel careened forward in a rage. Before he could take three steps, the train hit a bend, flinging him into the crates against the car wall. Glowering, he picked himself up and retreated into a corner.
The man seemed unfazed. “I’m sorry, but I had to. That kind of a jump would’ve killed you, I’ll have you know. As it is, you probably have a concussion.”
Daniel’s breath came in strained puffs. “Should’ve let me jump.” His back slid down the rough planks crates as he sat. His chin dropped to his chest, and he stared at the dark floorboards under him. “Why are you even here?”
The man shuffled closer to Daniel on large feet. “I volunteered to keep an eye on you while the Preceptors settled folks down and…cleaned the mess you made.” He sat against the opposite pile of crates.
“So they sent you to keep me locked up in here.”
The man shrugged. “If that’s how you want to look at it. Either way, think with me. You’re on a moving train travelling at least sixty miles an hour. You don’t exactly look like a professional stuntman. If you die, who goes back to get your sister? Huh?”
Daniel opened his mouth to protest, but the man cut him off. “Listen, now. I talked with one of the Preceptors. There’s a settlement of some sort less than an hour from here. That’s where they’re taking us—you can get all the help you need.” His tone softened. “I saw your sister, on the platform while we were all getting on board. She—what’s her name?”
“Litty.”
“Litty. She looked smart for a small thing. Am I right?”
Daniel swallowed hard and forced a nod.
“Then she’s going to be fine. It’s up to you. Can you wait another hour without trying to hurl yourself off the mountain?”
Daniel felt the muscles in his face relax a little. He stopped glowering. A hundred objections rushed through his mind, but he finally conceded. “Yes.”
“Good.” The man leaned back, folded his arms, and observed Daniel for a moment. “Now that I’ve saved your life and knocked some sense into you…what’s your name?”
Daniel drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “Daniel,” he said.
“Daniel,” the man repeated. “Call me Ram.” He stuck out his hand.
Daniel ignored it. “Ram?”
The man grinned, unbothered by the rejection. “You’d come up with a nickname too if your mother had doomed you with the name Ramsey Fergus Mallard.”
“Ram is better,” Daniel said.
Ram snorted. “Thanks. You know—”
A thunderous boom rattled the train car, knocking Daniel on his side and making his ears ring. The train shook, groaned on its axles, and screeched to a grinding halt.
Ram bounced to his feet, agile for his size, and helped Daniel up. “What was that?”
Another explosion shook the car, but Daniel managed to grab a rope tying down the crates before falling again. He faintly heard a jumble of shouts and gunshots over the ringing in his ears. “Something’s happening outside.
” He darted over to the sliding door. “Help me with the bolts!”
Ram hesitated before joining him. “Maybe we should stay here.”
“Not a chance.” Daniel slid back the last bolt. “I want to know what’s going on.” He put his weight against the handle and pushed the door open just wide enough to stick his head out. A moment later, a sharp ding smacked against the metal door, and he jumped back in, heart pounding. “We need to get out of here!”
“Why? What’s happening?”
“Someone’s shooting at the train!”
The ringing in Daniel’s ears subsided—the shouts and gunshots got louder and closer. He could hear at least one machine gun.
“How’s the head?” Ram asked. “Can you run?”
Daniel nodded. It still hurt, but the pain had settled to a dull throb. “The mountain slope is in our favor. I saw a cluster of boulders up the hill and to the left just a bit. Let’s go there—looks a lot safer than this train.” He slid the door open a foot more and jumped out.
With Ram close on his heel, he scuttled away from the train car, squinting against the bright sunlight. He worked his way up the hill. The gravel and dirt crunched under his feet as he accelerated as much as he could.
Bullets sprayed haphazardly all around them.
Daniel slid onto his stomach behind a boulder. Ram collapsed with his back to the stone, breathing hard. “Who’s doing this?”
Daniel shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.” He peered around the boulder’s side. The storage car they had been in was the second to last on the train. A twenty-foot section of railway just beyond the engine had been blown into twisted pieces of metal that were still letting off smoke. The Preceptors, a dozen in total, had spread down the length of the train, two at each car, taking refuge from the spurts of gunfire that hailed from a high point across a narrow valley on the other side of the tracks. Ten of them were armed, and were returning fire. The other two were hustling the people of Obenon off the train, directing them to the forest line higher up the mountain. It seemed to Daniel that no gunfire was being shot at the townspeople—just the Preceptors.
“We should join the others,” said Ram, pointing at the line of townspeople. Most of them had reached the cover of the trees. He scrambled to his feet and was about to take off, but Daniel grabbed his arm.
“I need to go back for Litty!” He had to shout over the echoing shots.
Ram shook his arm loose. “Have you noticed the bullets?”
“Have you noticed the tracks?” Daniel retorted. “Your plan just got blown to bits. I need to go now, or—” A hand grabbed his shoulder, and he whirled around.
A Preceptor pulled him to his feet and, without a word, forced him up the hill towards the rest of the townspeople.
Daniel tried to wrest his arm free. “Let me go!”
It was no use. The Preceptor held a vice grip on his arm, and Ram did nothing to stop him from dragging up the hill. He couldn’t break free.
* * *
Daniel glared at the damp stone under his feet. His head hurt twice as much as it had after hitting it in the train, and now his back felt like it had been mauled by a bear. He lifted his hand to the side of his head and gingerly touched it with his fingertips. Someone had bandaged it with a cloth, but he could still feel the moisture of blood.
He was sitting on a flat stone in the dark recesses of the cavern system the townspeople had been herded to. He was alone. In spite of all the people gathered in small clusters, worrying in hushed voices, he was alone. No one had spoken to him since the Preceptor had dragged him up the mountain. Even Ram was gone.
Fighting the throbbing pain in his head, he shifted his position and spat a mixture of saliva, dirt, and blood between his feet. Someone had left a tin cup of water by him—he hadn’t bothered to look up and see who it was. Grudgingly, he washed out his mouth, spat again, and drank the rest in three gulps.
Hard boots clipping on stone approached him. A Preceptor materialized from the flickering shadows of the cave and stood before him—the same one that had been overseeing the evacuation. Despite her soiled uniform, ripped at the shoulder, and the smear of blood on her cheek, she held the same demeanor she always did in Obenon—poised and professional. He couldn’t help taking a second glance at the gun at her hip.
She took a moment to look him over. Daniel could only imagine how awful he must have looked with his bandaged, bloody head and his dirt-stained clothes. “So you’re the one.”
Daniel tried to read her expression, but her face betrayed no particular emotion.
“I’m Second Preceptor Tess Kerrigan. You’re Daniel Black, right?”
He simply nodded. “What happened?”
She cast a glance towards the edge of the caver, where the dying sunlight filtered in. “The Akorites ambushed us.”
Daniel flinched. Barely. The sounds of plane engines and explosions echoed in his mind. “But why?”
“We’re not sure. The Akorites attacking Preceptors is nothing new, but the nature of the ambush was too calculated to have been a random assault. They had an objective—we just don’t know what it was.”
Daniel turned away from her. He touched his temple with his fingertips again, wincing at the pain. “My sister—”
“That’s why I came. Ram told me what happened.” Preceptor Kerrigan stood and cleared her throat. “I was charged with overseeing the evacuation from Obenon. Although circumstances and fortune were drastically unfavorable, I must apologize for the tragedy of your sister being left behind.”
Daniel traced lines in the stone with the toe of his shoe. He knew the blame was his. He should have never left her by herself. “Help me bring her back.”
Preceptor Kerrigan hesitated. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
Daniel turned around, his eyebrows arching down. “What do you mean?”
“Please understand. The Akorites have been living in the Untamable Mountains for decades. Today’s ambush was evidence of the fact that, at the very least, they don’t like us being here. Yes, the war has been won, but the fighting continues. If we send a rescue party out into the wilderness, we’ll be even more vulnerable than we already are. We’re not equipped to defend ourselves against an entire band of armed guerillas.”
“Then I’ll go by myself.”
Kerrigan shook her head. “You won’t make it.” She cut off his protest with a raised hand. “Think, Daniel. There’s half a dozen mountain peaks between here and Obenon. Even if you followed the tracks all the way back, the tunnel’s been collapsed. There’s no way through.” She sat back down. “I know it’s hard to hear this. But the best way for you to get your sister back is to wait until reinforcements arrive from Galaratheas. Once that happens, we’ll have the resources to equip you and a small search party.”
“I can’t wait that long,” Daniel said. “She’s only three! How—how much time can she spend by herself before something happens? She needs me.”
Authority glinted in Kerrigan’s hazel eyes. “I’m sorry. You have no choice. My word is final.”
Daniel scowled and stormed off without another word, weaving his way through the provisional camp being set up in the cavern. The cave was spacious enough to allow for several gray tents to be set up near the center. He imagined these were for the Preceptors.
He ambled around with no particular direction in mind. He tried to take in as much of the setup as he could without drawing too much attention to himself. It would be all too easy to slip out and head down the mountain by himself, were it not for the armed Preceptors stationed at the wide entrance to the cavern.
Daniel doubled around to the left, circling around the edge of the cave, close enough to the tents that any Preceptors that saw him wouldn’t see anything amiss. When he reached the bottom once again, a row of five or six tents separated him from the one he’d been in, and Kerrigan was nowhere in sight. Hopefully she had other business to attend to.
As he wandered, his mind raced through a m
yriad of possible scenarios. But, try as he might, he couldn’t think of a way to get past the guards—not when the sun was still up. Maybe, just maybe, nighttime would offer him enough cover to slip through the perimeter and disappear into the surrounding forest before they even noticed him missing.
Sundown was still a good hour away. He didn’t know if he could wait that long.
Chapter Three
Ram found him at the edge of the camp. A large, bulging backpack hung from his shoulders. “Already planning an escape, I see.” A grin of amusement stretched his face.
Daniel ignored the light-hearted joke. He kicked the tin cup across the ground and sat on a flat rock. His face dropped into his hands. “I need to get out of here.”
Ram stood by the tent flaps. “Haven’t you been wondering where I’ve been all this time?”
“Not really.” He wished Ram would go away.
“Well, I’ve been busy. I knew you wouldn’t be happy about the change of plans, so as soon as the Preceptors took their eyes off me, I got my hands on this.” He jostled his backpack. “I’d packed this yesterday. The Preceptors brought it up with the rest of the luggage.” He slipped it off his shoulders and tossed it next to Daniel. “Look inside.”
Daniel unzipped it and poked around. Inside the backpack were several packages of dry snack food, two cans of tomato soup, bottled water, and other individual food items. Another pocket contained a small flashlight, batteries, and a knife. Daniel looked up at Ram. “Where’d you get all this?”
Ram grinned. “My parents were firm believers in being prepared. I thought it was silly of them to always keep stashes of things—ironically enough, they left Obenon a month before the bombing. I stayed to work the mines. By the time they pulled us all out of there, that food was all that was left. So I brought it.”
Daniel closed the backpack up. “But what’s it for?”
Ram raised an eyebrow. “For…eating.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Well, food’s always a good thing to have along when you’re trekking through the mountains.”
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