“No,” she answered. “Just very tired. Everything makes me very tired nowadays.”
“Ruby, I’m so sorry for everything.”
“Eh,” she said with a wave of her hand. “You don’t gotta be. I was only ever in charge because I said I was, because I called the shots and everyone seemed to go along. Weren’t no vote made me boss. Truth is there’s better people to be in charge than me. Maybe you’d do a better job.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but Ruby continued.
“Anyhow. Ya did what ya did and now it’s over.”
“Okay, so—”
“So, here’s what I gotta say. That what you want? Ta’ cut t’the chase? Hm?” Her voice drifted in from the shadow where she lay and I noticed that she wasn’t looking in my direction. She seemed to be just speaking into the air, to the canvas of the tent above her.
“Well, yeah,” I said.
“Okay,” she said. Then she took a deep breath and let it slowly out. “Well, it’s like this. They’s some of these people here in the camp who want me to keep bein’ in charge ’a them, and if I’m to do that, I gotta have everyone signed on and stayin’ in line. Maybe we do need a vote or a signed paper or something like that, but what I can’t have is someone who’s gonna make a move like that with no kinda checking in or asking.”
“Oh, Ruby I would never—”
“—do something like that again? I guess I believe that’s how ya feel. Or that’s what ya think. But, see, I can’t know that anymore. We been together a long time, Al, longer than you remember, ’a course. But somethin’ changed when you let that feller go. It’s a trust thing.”
My heart sank.
“I can’t run things here with that kind of—I don’t know what ya call it. Uncertainty? Yeah. That. I’m already plumb ragged just managin’ them that do what I tell ’em.”
“Ruby, I’m sorry for what I did. I honestly won’t ever—”
“No, Al, stop,” she said, holding her hand up. “You notice I ain’t never said you did anything wrong? I’m not sure it was wrong, what you did.”
I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it ain’t necessarily that you did something wrong so much as you did what you wanted to do, what you thought was right, but without consulting the rest of us—not even Chase. I just need one less chief around here so I can be the best chief I can be.”
“Yes, but I’m telling you—”
“Al, stop a second.”
“No, I want to explain what—”
“Al!” she cried rising from her cot, “shush!” Her eyes gazed at the roof of the tent but she wasn’t actually looking at it. She was listening. “Hear that?”
I listened for a moment and heard what she had heard. The bell. The big brass bell at the southern approach observation point. The guard on duty had spotted an intruder, and from the way the bell kept clanging, it wasn’t just one or two people.
“Your man Bellington brought them back,” said Ruby, getting to her feet. “They’re coming for us.”
CHAPTER 17
The panic which erupted after that could not have been more acute if an actual god reached down from the sky and turned the camp upside-down. My friends and camp mates ran literally in every direction. Some even ran in circles, but none of them had any apparent idea of what to do or where to go.
We had emergency procedures—Ruby and Chase had made sure of that. Everyone had a bug-out pack, which was supposed to contain shelter, clothing, and supplies to last a week or so. In case of attack, each person in camp was supposed to grab their pack and race into the woods along one of a dozen designated routes, faintly marked game trails mostly, or routes that followed ridge lines and other discrete geographical features.
As Ruby put it: “Grab your shit and scatter.”
And most of us had executed this plan many times. We’d been attacked by the agency before, and we also held regular emergency drills. Everyone should have known almost exactly what to do, but when Ruby and I emerged from her tent, it was actual pandemonium.
That’s because this time was different.
In the past, the Agency troops hadn’t been so incredibly close when the alarm was raised. In the past, our own patrols and look-outs had spotted the Agency troops from a distance, giving us time to mount a defense and make a more orderly retreat.
This time, however, the troops were practically on top of us from the start. The sound of gunfire clattered and echoed down from the north ridge. I heard people shouting, “Run! Run! They’re here!” as they fled down from the high side of camp.
“Grab yer shit and scatter!” Ruby shouted, her hands cupped around her mouth, “like in the drills!” she added, but there was too much noise for anyone to clearly hear even her shrill voice. “Damn these people!” she shouted to no one particularly. “They never learn! Panic last, you idiots! Not first!”
Now the gunfire was closer and was followed instantly by the sickening zip! of bullets in the forest canopy. I thought I heard the rumble of heavy vehicles out by the motorpool. They really were close.
“Ruby,” I said, grabbing the sleeve of her sweater.
I could not stay one instant longer. I had to find Arie, had to find Chase. I had to get away. But there stood Ruby, turning her head one way and then the other, watching her city in the mountain disintegrate. And she looked so tired, so worried.
“Ruby, I—”
“Go!” she cried without turning to me.
I didn’t wait. I sprinted away. On the way back to my tent, I saw Woolly hustling in Ruby’s direction. As he ran, he was trying to adjust the shoulder-straps of his bug-out pack, which looked absurdly small on his broad back. I slowed and watched him join Ruby. She had evidently ducked into her tent and got her worn bug-out pack, which now dangled from the crook of her elbow like an enormous purse. Woolly took the pack, grabbed Ruby by the arm, and turned to go. I ran on. Everyone else seemed to still be heading in random directions. The gunfire was getting closer and heavier. I smelled the sickly smell of diesel exhaust, and I heard barked commands that I knew had to be from Agency troops. Some massive and dark vehicle was pushing through the trees on the far side of the camp.
They weren’t just close. They were in the camp. And surely they were already rounding up everyone they could, and those they couldn’t round up, they were shooting.
As I came to the bend in the trail where my tent stood, I saw Chase. He had his pistol in one hand and my bug-out pack in the other. He tossed the pack into my path and I caught and shouldered it without breaking stride as we ran for our escape route. Chase fell in behind me and we ran like hell.
“Have you seen Arie?” I panted.
“He’s ahead,” he said. “Pick it up, Al. Run like you got somewhere to be.”
To my amazement my stride lengthened, and I thundered so hard down the trail that by the time we caught up to Arie I’d put six yards between Chase and I.
“Pick it up, Chay,” I hissed over my shoulder at him. “Run like you got somewhere to be.”
Arie led the way. I followed him, and Chase followed us, keeping an eye out behind us.
“Know where we’re going, kid?” said Chase, his voice calm, raised just enough for Arie to hear.
“Down the ravine and over the river,” Arie said. He sounded calm, too. Good. I was the only one panicking.
The three of us pounded down the muddy trail. I couldn’t remember the last time I ran so fast. My lungs burned but my pack felt light and I thought maybe I could keep going that way all day.
Because there was no way I was going back. They would never take me.
We went deeper into the forest. The sounds of the chaos in the camp became fainter. The rain fell steadily. When we came to the ravine, we slowed down some. The way down was a rocky staircase, but the rocks were slick with rain. We hopped down from rock to rock with care, but I knew we were making better time than in any practice drill. Soon we came to the river. There was a shallow ford there, a
way to cross quickly without leaving any trace, and it wasn’t easy to find if you didn’t know about it. We stopped at the bank.
Chase crouched behind a big shaggy growth of intertwined bristlecone pine trees.
“You guys go on,” he said, his voice very low, “like we practiced. I’ll see if anyone’s coming up behind. Go, go, go. Get across. Quietly. Quiet like mice. I’ll be right behind you.”
I clenched my jaw at the thought of leaving him behind, but this really was how we practiced. If we could get to the other side of the river, our chances of getting away clean were better. Arie stood looking at me. Chase nodded, and we turned for the ford.
CHAPTER 18
It was all my fault. I knew it. Everybody knew it.
That’s why it was very good, in a very dark way, to be fleeing for my life deeper and deeper into the forest. Yes, I had to get away from the Agency troops, but it also meant getting farther and farther away from everyone whose existence I’d turned upside down, some of whom had almost certainly died. I wouldn’t have to face what I’d done. No more pointing at me and whispering as I reported for dish duty. And I wouldn’t have to discuss anything with Ruby. They wouldn’t have to send me to another camp.
At least not anytime soon.
Because it would be a week or more before we could ever regroup. And how long after that before we could re-organize and begin to re-establish our camp? Winter was on its way and soon these mountains would be covered in fourteen feet of snow. We might be able to wait for spring at some other camp, if we could find one that escaped the Agency’s notice in this latest attack, and even if we could, they might refuse us—winter provisions were always scarce. We’d been pushed so far into the wilderness, the nearest un-scavenged towns were now days away by vehicle—who knows how far on foot?
And these speculations were, of course, best-case scenarios, which assumed the camp leadership would not only evade Agency capture or murder, but also survive a stay in the wilderness for long enough to come back out of hiding, and the chances of this were particularly shaky with Ruby, who, when last I saw her, was moving at a velocity more associated with toddlers and tortoises. The more I thought about it, the more I realized just how grave things were for us.
So, I did the only thing I could think to do: I ran harder.
It was only when I felt that my lungs would burst that I finally stopped. Arie was ahead of me and must have noticed that I had stopped, because he did, too. He turned to me, his breath smoking in the damp air. I stood on the tiny game trail bent over, hands on my knees, gasping. A drop of sweat hung from the tip of my nose but would not fall.
“What’s up?” Arie panted. “We stopping? You good?”
I couldn’t draw a breath deep enough to answer, so I held up my hand and waved him onward.
“What’s the matter?” he said, still breathing hard. “You hurt?”
Between breaths I said, “Just need—to rest—for a second.”
“I could use a break, too,” he said. “I’ll circle back a ways. Stay right here.”
Arie broke from the trail and stalked through the brush, working back the way we’d come. I stood up and put my hands on my hips and tried to catch my breath. A fit of coughing overtook me and I felt lightheaded. I bent over again and rested my hands on my knees. After a two or three minutes, my breath came more slowly, and I felt like I could go on.
And then, from behind me—from only a few feet behind me—a man’s voice: “Hands in the air.”
I startled violently, and some primitive center in my brain almost triggered me to bolt away at a full gallop, but the voice was Chase’s. I turned around to see him walking toward me. Arie was behind him. I gave Chase a hard shove. He chuckled, but I didn’t.
“So?” I asked. “Anyone follow us?”
“I don’t think so,” said Chase.
“You don’t think so?” I returned. “What’s that mean?”
“It means I don’t think they followed us.”
“Do you think Ruby got away? And Woolly?”
Chase’s face was dark and shadowed. “I don’t know. But all we can do is assume they got away and hope to link up with them later.”
I sat down on a fallen tree and took some deep breaths. Arie joined me.
“So, what now?” I said.
“Well,” said Chase, “we can’t just stop. We’ve only come a few miles. I don’t think we have to keep running, but we ought to keep moving west.”
“To where?” asked Arie.
“There’s a ranger station not too far from here. I’ve never been there, but I’ve seen it on a map. And I’ve talked to someone who’s been there.”
“How far?”
“Well, only about six or seven miles, if I’m remembering the maps right.”
“Oh, that’s not bad,” said Arie.
“No,” said Chase, “but.”
“But what?”
“But it’s over that pass,” said Chase. Squinting into the sun and pointing upward.
We turned our heads to look. Chase pointed to a saddle slung high between two rocky peaks.
“Oh heavens,” I moaned quietly. “Can we even get up there?”
“It’ll be a climb,” he answered. “But I heard once there was a truck at the ranger station. Probably doesn’t run. Anyway, probably take us a half day to get over the ridge. We’ll need to go slow, cover our tracks as we go. We can try for it tonight and maybe get stuck halfway up in the dark, or we can hike to the base of the ridge, make a cold camp, and then climb over in the morning.”
“I gotta get some water,” said Arie. “Sounds like there’s a creek down that draw. Anyone want a refill? I’m buying.”
We got out our plastic bottles, drank the remaining water, and handed them to Arie.
“Thanks, Arie,” I said.
“Yeah. Thanks, kid.”
“No problem,” said Arie.
“Hey, keep your eyes open,” said Chase.
Arie gave us a thumbs-up without looking back as he headed toward the stream.
I sighed wearily.
“You okay?” asked Chase.
I nodded, trying hard to keep my composure and probably failing. My chin and bottom lip began to quiver.
“Wrong question,” said Chase. “You’re not all right, are ya?”
“This is all my fault,” I said.
“Well—yeah,” he replied, “but you didn’t know any better. People who’re scared do dangerous things.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“Come here,” he said quietly.
Now that I had my breath back and my legs were no longer rubbery with fatigue, all I wanted to do was dig a hole, climb in, and cover myself over. I wanted to be by myself so I could suffer without witnesses, but I knew I couldn’t be alone. I wanted to feel the full weight and measure of my guilt, but I also didn’t want to think about it.
Chase wrapped me in his arms. I buried my face in his shoulder and cried. I cried deeply and desperately—for what I’d done to Ruby, for what I’d done to everyone else. But there was something in Chase’s embrace. I wouldn’t say it was absolution, but perhaps a sense of safety, though I hardly deserved it. He blamed me for what happened, and perhaps at some point he would say so, and maybe he’d even hold me responsible, but I knew he was there to help me carry my burden.
CHAPTER 19
That evening we hiked very quietly and very slowly westward, staying on the faintest of the natural game trails left by the elk and deer. Every half hour or so we stopped and hid ourselves in the brush and trees. Then we’d spend ten or fifteen minutes watching and listening for any sign that someone was following us. Chase said we should even sniff the breeze for a stray whiff of cigarette smoke or the smell of a sweaty Agency trooper. Chase scanned the forest behind us with his binoculars. All the caution and paranoia had me feeling like we really were being followed.
We gradually neared the great flanks of the mountain and the approaches to the high pass we’d h
ave to cross to leave the valley. Hopefully, on the other side, we’d find somewhere to hole up. When the sun set and left us within the cool blue shadow of the mountain, we stopped for the day and found a grassy hollow to rest for the night.
Each of our bug-out packs contained a small tarp and some cord. We stretched these between two trees to fashion a ramshackle shelter, then huddled close beneath it, sharing our collective warmth.
We had food, but not much. We each had a supply of dried berries, a little corn meal, and some oily pemmican that was grudgingly ingested only after vigorous chewing. Enough for four or five days, but Chase said we’d probably have to make it last for much longer.
“I can’t see us finding any way to resupply for at least a week, probably longer. Might wanna chew real slow.”
I’d hoarded away enough tea to last at least two weeks, but Chase wouldn’t allow a fire.
“Not even to heat up a little water?” I pleaded. “Just to get warm so we can sleep?”
“No. Sorry, Al. Tonight, as the air cools, this breeze will turn around and head down into the valley. We make a fire and the smoke will lead anyone following us right to our front door.”
Chase piled up a floor of dry brown grass that made our nest under the tarps slightly more comfortable and warm, but it wasn’t even as comfortable as the cot I had in my tent in camp, which itself was quite rickety.
Still, we’d been on the move all day, and with the nagging shadow of paranoia that we might be followed or found, it felt good to at last lie down. With Arie to my left and Chase to my right, I suppose I got the best bargain in terms of staying warm. I put my head on Chase’s chest and he wrapped an arm around me. Even though I was leaner and probably in better condition than I’d ever been in my life, I felt utterly used up for the day, and I dropped off in just a few minutes.
At some point very early in the morning, maybe an hour before dawn, I awoke. At first I thought Chase was still there with me. I thought I smelled him or felt him, but then I realized he was gone, and my head was resting on his coat, which was balled up like a pillow.
Among These Bones (Book 3): Maybe We'll Remember Page 9