by Mark Tufo
“Any ideas about where you want to stop for the night?” he’d asked. The mountain they’d emerged from was now miles behind them. Many in the clan were grousing about being tired or hungry–most were both.
“I guess this is as good a place as any.” She’d been hoping that at some point they’d see a deer; with the rifles they would have an extreme advantage in hunting it. But no matter how much she asked for quiet among the group they’d sounded exactly like what they were, a bunch of inexperienced teenagers tramping through the woods. Anything within a square mile of their location had heard them coming. Within a few minutes Delton had a fire going and had sent four people out to hunt down enough firewood to keep the thing going for the night. After the disgusting judgement error with the Meals Ready to Eat, Cedar only once had to tell people that the berries they’d collected were poisonous and if they wanted to remain alive they’d most likely not want them. There was a stream nearby where they filled up their water skins. Food was going to be a priority, but could wait until morning. Perhaps there were fish in the stream. It might be best if they stayed here a couple of days while they secured some protein. Plus, it allowed her to give Winter one more chance of somehow pulling off a miraculous appearance. One more day of walking and they would be too far gone. And so would her hope of a reunion.
The majority of the group was sitting by the fire. It was the comfort of the warmth and company that it offered that kept them together. Cedar was not so inclined; she walked around the perimeter, ever vigilant for some sign of her friend; or any hint of an enemy.
“Fletcher isn’t doing so good,” Delton told her as she was about to pass by the tree he was leaning up against.
“Has he had any water?”
“He has but he can’t hold it down.”
Cedar and Delton went over to where Fletcher was. He was rolled up in the fetal position, alternating between groaning and moaning, if a distinction could actually be made.
“We were just playing with him when we dared him to eat it,” Jemmy, Fletcher’s best friend, said. The two boys next to him nodded.
“He’s burning up with fever.” Delton had placed his hand against Fletcher’s sweat-soaked forehead.
“Try and get him to drink more water. Maybe next time think before you do something stupid. We are warriors, for God’s sake! Not children. And we’re on our own now. We don’t have any Meddies, so something as simple as a small cut could lead to infection and death.” Cedar did not like the harshness which she’d delivered the words, but if not from her, then who else?
THE NEXT MORNING had not started out with the promise Cedar had hoped for. In her dream Winter was gently shaking her on the shoulder to wake up so they could go get some food together. When she opened her eyes it was Delton’s forlorn face she encountered.
“Fletcher died.”
She’d thought about punching him until he said something she wanted to hear.
“Do his friends know?”
“I have them collecting rocks for a grave.”
Cedar sat up.
“Come on. I’ll show you where they want to cover him up.”
Jemmy and Cleighton were placing heavy rocks over their friend. Tears were falling from Jemmy’s face; clearly he blamed himself. Cleighton was pale, as if possibly in shock. He’d not yet assimilated what had happened to his friend.
Jemmy turned when he heard Cedar and Delton approach.
“It was just a joke,” he sobbed.
“A costly one.” The words were out of Cedar’s mouth before she could recall them. Neither Jemmy nor Cleighton appeared to have noticed. Delton had stiffened.
Cedar waited until the last stone was placed and Fletcher was no longer visible. She threw a handful of dirt over the rocks as was the custom she’d read about and left Jemmy and Cleighton to deal with their grief.
“You could have perhaps shown a little more compassion,” Delton assailed her when she came back to the remnants of the fire. It had been reduced to embers.
“They caused it themselves with their stupidity.”
Delton bristled.
“I don’t have time for compassion. Those idiots just dared the life out of their friend after I warned them about those damned meals. Take a look around…we’re all that’s left. Too many more bone-headed things like that and we won’t survive the month.”
Three rabbits had been caught that day at the expense of over a hundred bullets and one friendly-fire flesh wound. Cedar skipped the meal as the meager portions were handed out. The meat was cut into sections no bigger than her knuckle in order to assure everyone got at least something.
“I’m so hungry.”
“We were better off with the Klondikes.”
Cedar was catching snippets of conversations as she walked around. None of them were too particularly positive.
“Listen up!” she started.
Delton ran over before she could begin speaking. “Compassion, Cedar.”
“Do you want me to find you a dress? You are acting like a girl.”
“They’ve been through a lot is all I’m saying.”
“Maybe a nice bonnet and corset?” she began, and then realized he wouldn’t know what she meant. “Forget it. Listen, I know you’re hungry and maybe a little scared. So am I, but we’re free.”
“Free?” someone scoffed. “Free to starve.”
Cedar’s blood was starting to simmer. “Leave then, I’m not holding you here.”
“Where would we go?”
“That’s exactly my point. You are helpless. What do I care where you go? I’m not you mother.”
A large, dark haired boy named Namble stepped out and faced the rest. “We should have just stayed with the Klondikes,” he shouted.
“Go then. I just told you I wouldn’t stop you.”
“Maybe we will.”
“Wait. Before you leave I think you should know that whoever was victorious yesterday will almost certainly cut your throat upon your return; make sure you don’t give the rest of us up before you choke to death on your own blood.”
Namble and a few others gasped, some covering their exposed necks as if it could happen here. “You lie!” c
ame from the crowd. “The Klondikes were going to win and we are, or at least were, allies.”
“Oh yeah? And how much did you personally contribute to that alliance? I mean besides eating their food and taking up space. You can’t hunt,” she said, kicking at the small cooking fire. “You can’t fight; most of you didn’t even know where your weapons were. Maybe, just maybe if you were women they might keep you around for awhile.” There was silence as she continued. Now, with everyone’s attention, her voice softened. “The Klondikes don’t care about any of you; we were all just a means to an end. Haden only wanted to meet Winter and gain her trust. He knew she would never abandon her clan; the rest of us were part of a package deal.”
“Don’t see her here,” Namble said, “so I guess we know which side she chose.”
Cedar tossed her rifle to the ground. Immediately pulling her sword free, she strode past three men to get to the one who had said those offending words. “My best friend is probably dead and she sacrificed herself for your pathetic life.” The tip of her blade was firmly entrenched on the bottom of Namble’s chin. She was pressing hard enough that his eyes were clenched shut in pain. “I’d trade twenty of you to have her back. She didn’t see it that way, though. She wanted you, all of you, to be safe, to have a chance to live a life she’ll never be able to. You would already be dead if it weren’t for Winter. And yet you want to go back because gosh darn it, it’s just too damn difficult to go forward. You’d rather have someone tell you what to do and when to do it as long as they’ll give you a meal. I can’t stand the sight of you. Just grab what you came with and get out of here.” She pulled her sword from his chin, leaving a red line where she’d cut him. “Oh, yeah, and if you tell Haden or Mennot where we are before he kills you, I will hunt down your worthless soul
in the afterlife and finish what I should have done here.” Cedar stormed off, Delton quickly in tow.
“Can she do that?” Namble asked his friends as he ran his fingers cautiously across the wound Cedar had given him.
“Um, that was sort of inspiring,” Delton told Cedar when she finally stopped walking away. She was now pacing back and forth, stomping her feet hard enough to break anything that got in her way.
“How could these possibly be the people we ended up with?” Cedar entreated to Delton. “I’d take stubborn Tallow and his group over any of them.”
Delton ignored the slight. Cedar was their best chance at survival; she would just need some subtle guidance. “You have to give them time, Cedar. Everyone knows that you, Winter, and Tallow stopped needing the Brokers’ handouts by the time you got to ten years. But most of them, including me, well…we never thought to do it any other way. It was easier. We accepted our fate and never had any desire or hope to change it like the three of you did. Now that it’s here, we’re not really quite sure what to do with it.”
“It’s not fair, Delton. It was Winter and Tallow that trained with me, that planned our freedom. We talked about this exact moment and what it might be like and now I’m the only one here. I’ve got a secret for you. I’m hungry and I’m scared, too. And the truth is I have no idea what to do.”
Delton paused for a moment. “You know what makes a great leader?”
Cedar said nothing.
“It’s the ability to instill confidence in those around you no matter how you’re really feeling. And you do that, Cedar. People are looking to you for the answers.”
“But I don’t have any of the answers.” Cedar turned away, as close to breaking down as she’d ever been.
“Well, we’re going to have to find some, or you’re right, none of us will survive the month.”
Cedar’s shoulders sagged for a moment and she sniffled once. Delton smiled when she wiped her sleeve against her nose and snorted. “Food.” She wiped her nose again as she turned. “We need food. Find two people who can be quiet for more than the span of just holding their breaths and can also maybe shoot somewhat straight and I’ll take them out hunting. That ought to shut up some of the crybabies.”
“Compassion, Cedar.”
“Yeah, yeah, compassion. You keep telling me that. Oh, yeah, if any of the dolts try to leave, shoot them.”
“You said any of them could leave if they wanted to.”
“Yeah, I lied. How long do you think it would take before one of them cracks and gives up our location?”
“Good point.”
IT AMAZED CEDAR what a full belly could do for morale. The once grousing citizens of Dystance were now all laughing and telling stories around the fire as they ate roasted boar. Tomlin, one of the hunters Delton chose, had saved Cedar’s life. Her first bullet had scraped along the ridge of the boar’s back, infuriating the beast. He’d charged a stunned Cedar, who began back peddling. Tomlin had fired three shots into its side before it came to a skidding stop at her feet. He’d smiled at her as she thanked him.
“This could work.” She was staring into the fire.
Delton nodded. He was busy licking grease from his fingers.
Chapter 21
Deceit and Conflict
IT WAS A BRIEF but intense fight. The Comanchokees never stood a chance once Haden’s true plan had gone into effect. Most had died while pretending to be dead. I stood alongside Tallow, his friends, and Kinder.
“This is the price we have paid for our cowardly act.” Kinder was near to crying.
“This has nothing to do with the plan and all to do with the man that made the plan!” I spat. “Haden!” I screamed. The fighting had stopped around us. We were completely encircled by Hillian troops, and in some places by as many as fifteen soldiers deep. The screams had died down and were now replaced by the aftermath as men had their wounds tended to. Those that had us trapped were holding steady.
“Yes, Winter? What can I help you with?” He was over to the left hand side, out of the ring.
“Why? Why would you do this?”
“You mean why did I have savage dogs put down? You might as well ask why I would crush a scorpion. Because I must before it can bite me. Do not believe for a moment the meekness Kinder shows you. He is as close to a wild animal as can be on two legs. He’d pop your pretty little head in a stew bucket if he had half a chance.”
“And what of me, then?”
“Well, I’ve got to admit, you are something special and it is with great displeasure that I will not be able to fully discover just how special. Had I known just how much Mennot was going to desire you I would have left you back in camp before that initial meeting and kept you for myself.”
“You saved us. Why bother?”
“I saved you, Winter. I would have kept you alive, and Cedar, I suppose, for the sake of Serrot–but that’s it. The rest aren’t worth their weight in salt. Dystancians are fodder; we use them every cycle to cut the teeth of new recruits. Who do you think I had in that field with me that night I first came across you? Certainly not my seasoned men–I would not have wasted their time. The Ferals had, surprisingly, beaten us there. I was about to retreat when I saw you. It’s unfortunate you were not born in a Klondike camp. You would have remained a renowned warrior, instead of being traded as a slave.”
“I am no one’s slave!” I roared.
Mennot’s cruel laugh could be heard over the ensuing silence.
“Oh, but you are Winter. You’re just too stupid to know it,” Haden said. “Mennot offered up this truce. We would kill the Ferals together. In exchange I would give him you and whatever surviving members of your community to guarantee your compliance.”
“I’ll fight until I’m dead.”
“And what of those with you? Will you sacrifice their lives as well?”
Tallow looked over at me. “Until the end, Winter. I always told you I would stay with you until the end.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Mennot mocked as he was being helped out of his armor.
Could I make it to him? Before I could formulate a plan, Kinder was pierced with a spear through his stomach. He doubled over and fell to the ground when the spear was removed.
“STOP!” I cried. “This isn’t right.” I dropped down to the ground in a useless attempt to try and stem the red tide that flowed freely from him.
“This is war, Winter. There is no right or wrong. Feral dogs must be put down. Your sacrifice is not for nothing, though. You have saved a lot of men from dying. Mennot and I will not engage in battle for the remainder of this year. We will hunt down the Bruton Death Squads together while living in relative peace. Of course when the new recruits come next year we will repeat the cycle, but for now, I guess we’ll be as close to friends as sworn enemies can be.”
Haden’s features took a downturn as a messenger spoke rapidly and quietly in his ear.
“Find them!” Haden cuffed the man on the ear.
“Problem, friend?” Mennot teased.
“It seems that we are having a small problem locating the rest of Winter’s clan.”
“I wish you would hurry, this sun is beginning to burn my delicate flesh. I am growing bored and hungry.”
“You did it,” Tallow mumbled.
“Cedar did,” I replied just as quietly.
“What?” Haden asked.
“Come closer and I will tell you,” I taunted him. “Or are you afraid of a little girl?”
There were a few laughs amongst his men until they saw the look of unadulterated rage upon his face. I thought I might have baited him well enough so that I could exact a small measure of revenge, until his messenger came running back.
“Where are they, Winter?” Haden was looking straight at me, even as the man was still talking in his ear.
“How should I know? I’ve been out here the entire time.”
“Where is Cedar?” Serrot asked. He seemed truly concerned, although I was
having a difficult time being trusting of my own judgement.
“Can you deliver or not on what you promised me?” Mennot asked.
“They’re in there, Mennot. There is no other place they could be. We will find them.”
“How many double-crosses can you perform in one day?” Mennot asked, the earlier joviality no longer present in his voice. The Hillians, taking a cue from their commander, were now pointing their weapons Haden’s way. The Klondikes immediately responded in kind.
“He helped us get away!” I shouted, pointing at Haden.
“What?” Mennot and Haden both asked but for different reasons.
“She lies!” Haden roared.
“Let her speak.”
“Before this started, Haden told me something was about to happen and that if I went along with it he would let my people go. I did not know he planned on slaughtering the Comanchokees, but I saw a way for the Dystancians to escape and took it. My people were never meant for war.”
“That’s obvious enough.” Mennot was speaking to me and then directed his next words to Haden. “Is this true?”
“Why would I spare any of them? I care nothing for them!”
“He and I have been intimate;” I said, glancing back at Tallow, “and his second in command, Serrot, is in love with my friend, Cedar. He wanted her to be safe.”
“There is truth in here somewhere.” Mennot appeared to be thinking it through.
“How good is your truce if it is predicated on a lie?” I boldly asked.
“Cease, woman. I cannot think properly. It is easy enough to see you are attempting to fan sparks into a flame. What I am trying to do is understand where I stand in all this treachery. Get me back in my armor. It appears we might not quite be done with the fighting.” No one but his entourage moved as Mennot grunted and huffed his way into the metal womb. When he was encased and had caught his breath, he spoke. “Haden, I care little for the Dystancians. I may have even let your second in command keep his dear pet. But now it seems my hand is forced. I will appear weak if you do not immediately fulfill the terms of our agreement. Give that woman to me, disarmed and bound and I expect every pathetic Dystancian brought into my camp by this time next week, living or dead; again it makes no difference to me. If not, then this peace we are now enjoying will be shattered at great cost to you. Is that clear enough for your little Klondike brain?”