by Nathan Jones
“About the same.” Tom waved at the scattered components in disgust. “Still want to make sure I know what I'm doing before I try anything that might break them. Unless of course we capture a dozen or so more, and I can afford to tinker a bit.”
“Well, I'll have to leave that to you,” Brady said, chuckling. “Never had a mind for technology.”
“That must've been a real tribulation for you over the last fifteen years,” Tom said wryly. Kristy snickered.
Their friend laughed outright. “True. I suppose the silver lining to EMP taking out all the electronics is me not having to figure how to use them anymore.” He motioned to the workbench. “Although this would be a huge advantage for us, so I hope you get it working.”
Tom didn't have to be told that twice; that's why he kept banging his head against the problem. “So what's this news from our people watching the ranch?”
“Nothing good, I'm afraid.” Brady sighed and moved over to the table, settling down wearily on one of the chairs. “Dozens of bloodies started pouring into your place yesterday. Not just reinforcing the squad stationed there, either . . . looks as if they're planning to move out.”
Fantastic. “So we turned them away to the north, now they're coming at us from the south?” he asked, absently bouncing Molly on his knee. Kristy settled onto one of the other chairs at the table, expression troubled.
“Looks that way.” The trader stared absently at the radio. “I'm thinking rather than follow these guys and wait until we have to hit them to protect Camptown, we get in front of them and set up another proper ambush, like Gerry's Ravine. We can't afford to fly by the seat of our pants here, with the Sheriff and a bunch of our volunteers still up north scouting, and now Brandon and Pine and six more people heading up to take out the road.”
Tom nodded. He hoped his friend managed that errand now more than ever, to buy Camptown a bit of breathing room. “I'll take any of the recruits I judge are ready, and all the rest of the volunteers aside from a few scouts. We'll dig in and set up a real ambush.”
“Will that be enough, if there are dozens of bloodies headed our way?” Kristy asked worriedly. “How much time do we have until they're close enough to Camptown to be a threat?”
“If they were searching hard on the heels of our returning scouts?” Brady shrugged. “Maybe as early as tomorrow.”
Tom opened his mouth to curse, glanced down at Molly, then at his wife, and closed it again. He was cursing in his head, though; the ranch always had been the point of concern, if Sangue ever started coming at them from that direction. It was only a hard day's travel from Camptown, while Highway 29 was a good two and a half days, and Joes Valley was even farther.
He wearily stood, setting Molly gently on the floor. He was really regretting that five mile hike now. “I'll gather up the volunteers and recruits, see what we have to work with.” He gave Brady a serious look. “Can you search around Camptown, see if you can get a few more people who know their way around a gun and are willing to join up, even if just for this one fight?”
The trader nodded, although he looked doubtful. “Most of those who'd be any good in a fight are already either part of the volunteers or left around the same time the Hendricksons did. With the recruits, we were pretty much scraping the bottom of the barrel.” He winced slightly. “No offense to them, of course.”
Unfortunately, not entirely inaccurate, either. Tom really, really wished Skyler had been able to get them some proper training while he was gone. At least they'd slightly improved their long-distance shooting, which would be most important for this fight. Still, it was a shame.
Speaking of his son, as he made his goodbyes to Brady and saw him on his way, Tom steeled himself for the unpleasant conversation that was about to happen with his wife.
Kristy, always better at guessing what he was thinking than he ever was with her, took one look at his face as he shut the door after the trader and immediately put her hands on her hips. “Not a chance, Tom Miller.”
“I need him scouting, Kris,” he insisted. “Brandon's well on his way north, and the best of my remaining scouts are with Mitchells. Besides, he knows that area like the back of his hand.”
“So do you,” she argued heatedly.
“I do. But I'm going to need to stay with a disorganized group of trained volunteers, recruits, and townspeople to make sure they don't blunder right into the bloodies while I'm out scouting to try to prevent just that. Which means I need at least a few other people I can trust out there, and Skyler's at the top of the list.”
Her face was still set stubbornly, and he sighed. “You've got my word he won't come within miles of any fight, but this is already going to be tough as it is. We might be outnumbered, missing our best people, and forced to set up a hasty ambush. I'd at least like to have one thing going for me, and that's having someone I trust feeding me reliable information.”
Kristy continued to glare at him for long enough he was sure she was going to refuse flat out again. Then it was her turn to sigh. “Go gather everyone together. I'll think it over and let you know when you're ready to go.”
Tom hesitated, afraid he was pushing too far. “If you did say yes, um, Skyler would also need time to get ready.”
She threw her hands up with a despairing laugh. “You think that boy hasn't had his things together ready to go at a moment's notice this whole time?”
* * * * *
Skyler could tell something was going on the moment Brady and Trapper began running around the valley like chickens with their heads cut off. Especially when the volunteers and, judging by the way Jenny and Mer were rushing around gathering their gear, the recruits also began making preparations, including gathering at the storehouse to receive the weapons and gear Brady's people were handing out.
Tabby, with him watching the herds, groaned. “Sangue coming at us again?”
He could only shake his head grimly. What else could it be? “Has to be serious if they're grabbing the recruits, too.”
The recruits . . . a bunch of bumbling, recalcitrant idiots, with the exception of Jenny and Mer and a few others, of course. But fat chance he'd get to go along, even though he actually knew what he was doing and could help out.
Before he could really start getting himself into a tizzy about that, he was surprised by his mom calling his name and motioning for him to join her at the retreat. She also sent out Keri Dennison, one of the women Skyler had rescued who was about her age, to replace him watching the herds. Keri gave him a warm smile and squeezed his shoulder as she passed by to join Tabby in the pasture.
Why was he being called away from work? Did his mom think he was going to try to run off with the volunteers, so she was making him come home so she could keep an eye on him?
To his surprise, it was the exact opposite.
She hurried forward to grab his shoulders, so tight it was almost painful, and looked down at him fiercely. With how round she'd gotten with the baby it was easy to forget how much taller than him she was, almost Trapper's height. He hoped that would change when he reached his adult height, but for the moment his mom could loom with the best of them.
“Skyler Dale Graham, I want you to swear, solemnly swear, that you won't join the fight.” Skyler was about to protest, or more likely whine although he was ashamed to admit it, that he hadn't even been planning to try to run away and follow Trapper. But before he could, she kept going in a firm tone. “Tom needs you to help him scout, since so many of his other scouts are doing other things.”
“Really?” Skyler blurted, then regretted his eager outburst; his mom might decide not to let him go at all if he didn't take this seriously.
She nodded, reluctant but determined. “This is going to be a difficult situation. The volunteers might be outnumbered again, and missing some of their best people who are off doing other things. Tom's even decided he needs to bring the recruits, even though he doesn't think they're ready yet.”
He winced as she pulled him a bi
t closer, eyes flashing with dire warning. “But no matter how bad the situation gets, I want your promise you won't join the fighting. You're going out as a scout, nothing more, and I don't want you to even think of shooting at the enemy or doing anything else to put yourself in danger. If you can't promise that then you won't go at all.”
Skyler could think of a lot of situations where not joining the fighting could be more dangerous for him than joining it, like if the bloodies were already shooting at him and he needed to take them out before he could safely get away. And besides, if things got bad and he just ran away, that meant Camptown would be defenseless against whatever was coming at them.
On the other hand, if he didn't promise then he couldn't help scout. And if Trapper was admitting he needed him, and had somehow even convinced his mom to let him go, then him not being there at all would mean the situation was just that much more likely to go bad.
“I promise,” he said solemnly, meeting her gaze without blinking.
She held his eyes for a few uncomfortably long seconds before sighing and pulling him into a tight hug, then gently pushing him in the direction of the retreat. “Go grab your things.” He nodded and bolted for his sleeping space, where he already had everything he needed packed and ready to go for just this sort of opportunity. Halfway to the retreat, she shouted at his back. “And be careful!”
Skyler felt a bit bad for how much he rushed to gather his gear, barely pausing to give his mom another hasty hug goodbye before bolting for Camptown; he was just in a hurry to get away in case she changed her mind.
By the time they were ready to leave, Trapper had picked out eighteen of the recruits who he must've decided knew enough to be useful in a fight. They also had fifteen volunteers, including Logan and Teddy Knudsen and the mountain man himself, and three people from town.
Thirty-six people, not counting Skyler since he wouldn't be part of the fighting, and more than half of them hadn't been in a fight before and had almost no training. Three squads, one composed entirely of recruits, one of volunteers, and the other a mix of the two as well as the three townspeople. Jenny and Mer were in that last one, with an older man from town in their team and Logan as team leader.
In spite of the urgency of the situation, Trapper decided against taking horses, aside from four to carry supplies and two in case they had to send word quickly back to Camptown. Skyler wasn't sure that was the best call, but on the other hand, he supposed he could understand the reasoning.
For one thing, the entire town barely had enough horses to carry all the volunteers, plus supplies. For another, those horses would be needed to help evacuate the town in exile if they couldn't manage to stop these bloodies. And finally, Trapper was planning to set up an ambush, and mobility wasn't required for that.
On the other hand, if things went wrong for some reason, or a later group of bloodies found the ambush spot and tried to trail the volunteers back to the bowl valley, that many horses would leave a trail that was hard to erase. As they'd discovered on the way back from Gerry's Ravine.
“Why even have horses at all?” Skyler asked his adoptive dad. The mountain man had given a speech to the recruits a week or so ago about how horses would be their main advantage in these mountains, with Sangue forced to leave their vehicles behind and travel around more slowly on foot.
But his tactics with going out to meet these bloodies coming from the ranch, and the three squads who'd approached them a few days ago, suggested he didn't agree with his own lesson. He hadn't even given Brandon and the guys going with him mounts!
Trapper fielded the question calmly. “They've been useful for what we've used them for, and when we need them for more they'll be available. Until then we keep them in reserve.”
They set out, moving quickly south with Skyler and the other scouts pushing hard to stay ahead so they could search for any sign of the enemy. And, hopefully, find them in time to give warning to the volunteers following behind.
In the hours they had before nightfall they made good time, and while everyone feared that they'd run into Sangue sooner rather than later, so far there'd been no sign of them. After sunset, with darkness settling quickly around them, Skyler concluded that unless the bloodies were careless with their campfires that was it for the search until morning.
Which was a relief, since he was beyond exhausted by the time his adoptive dad finally called a halt. Hiking five miles that morning with a pack weighted with rocks had already left him at the end of his strength. Then to only get a few hours of rest before once again loading up, this time with his weapons and gear, so they could go on an even more brutal hike that lasted past sundown, was almost too much.
How was it possible that the mountain man, almost three times his age, could walk around the campsite with his back straight and his steps steady? Especially after having just returned from chasing down and then chasing off a Sangue incursion, not to mention loading his pack even heavier than Skyler's that morning. His apparent tirelessness was a sharp contrast to the rest of the group, who were all sprawled in the grass catching their breath.
Skyler had to ask, of course. And the answer surprised him, but somehow at the same time didn't.
“If I stop moving now I'll pass out on my feet,” his adoptive dad confessed in a low voice. “And even if I got a full night's sleep, which I don't intend to since we need good scouts out there all night in case Sangue steals a march on us, when I woke up in the morning I'd still barely be able to move and probably wishing I was dead.”
He clapped Skyler on the shoulder. “But part of leadership is setting an example . . . we've got a lot of exhausted people here and someone has to keep them going. If through no other motivation than wounded pride at having an old man run them into the ground.”
Skyler found the speech inspiring, of course, but he still felt a sinking sensation as the most important part of it stood out to him. “I'm going to be up half the night scouting, aren't I?”
“You sure are, and so am I.” Trapper sighed. “We'll let Logan and some of our other good scouts take the first shift, though, since they're more rested.”
“In that case, goodnight.” Skyler found a good spot and hung his tarp in case of rain or dew, then unrolled his fur blankets and climbed inside them. He felt a bit guilty hitting the hay immediately, since he was certain his adoptive dad would be up later than anyone making sure the camp was well set up, the scouts had their patrol routes, and everyone was asleep at a reasonable hour.
But on the other hand, he couldn't help with any of that stuff, so he might as well do what he could do which was get as much sleep as possible. Because tonight was going to suck, and tomorrow would suck even worse.
He took a few sips from his canteen and gnawed on a strip of jerky, making his jaw ache by trying to chew it too fast and still swallowing each bite as a mostly solid lump. Then he pulled a flap of fur over his head, leaving just his mouth uncovered, and let exhaustion claim him.
He'd been half afraid worry about the near certainty of encountering Sangue tomorrow would keep him up, but thankfully tired as he was it didn't. Although sleep did pull him into the inevitable nightmares: of that night outside Newpost, and Derek Lyman's sightless gaze, and Suzy Lyman's heartrending wail, and the faces of the bloodies he'd killed.
He felt like he'd barely got any sleep when Logan wakened him for his shift, but even so, he was relieved to get up and leave the troubled dreams behind.
* * * * *
The volunteers were up early the next morning, packing up camp and getting ready to move out. Skyler was grainy-eyed after spending half the night on sentry duty, surly and tense, and he wasn't the only one; even people who should've gotten a good night's sleep, especially among the recruits, looked as if they hadn't slept well.
Responding to nerves, probably. Which was understandable, but it was still hard not to resent them for wasting an opportunity he hadn't been given.
To his surprise, as they were preparing to head out Trapper
quietly announced that it was the Fourth of July. Their family had celebrated the holiday ever since that first time on the journey through the badlands on their way to Texas, but Skyler was well aware they were among the few that still did, aside from as a curiosity or an excuse to throw a party.
With the stress and chaos of the last week, they hadn't really had time to think about the holiday, and from what he'd heard in Camptown and among the others at the retreat neither had anyone else. A lot of that disinterest was probably Sangue having spent the last four years, or five now he supposed, spreading almost unopposed through what had once been the United States of America.
Considering that, nobody was particularly interested in the memory of the country that had nearly disappeared during the Ultimatum.
But perhaps going out to fight an invading enemy stirred some spirit in people. Teddy Knudsen further surprised him by producing a small flag from his saddlebags, which he attached to his rifle and held overhead as they set out to find the bloodies. Skyler kept expecting Trapper to tell him to cut it out, since the colorful cloth was as good as a signal for any enemies in the area.
To his continued surprise, the mountain man didn't raise an objection. He did, however, send Skyler and Logan and the few other good scouts they had out in a hurry to scout in front of them.
Sangue had had enough time by now that they could've easily reached Camptown if they'd pushed, and with the distance the volunteers had covered yesterday the enemy could be right over the next rise. Or, well, not over the next rise, since Skyler and Trapper had spent half the night watching the broad meadow sloping down from it on the opposite side, including at dawn as it became light enough to see for hundreds of yards up the next slope.
Maybe over the ridge beyond that, then; Skyler and Logan and the other scouts moved quickly but cautiously to check as the volunteers got moving behind them, loping down the gentle slope and keeping to cover where it was available. It didn't take long to reach the ridge, at which point they confirmed that it, too, was empty.
