by Nicole Helm
Finally, he sighed. “Sometimes.”
“What is it other times?” she asked, unable to help herself. She wanted to understand how someone so strong and sure when he was awake could fall into something so... He’d seemed helpless. Oh, he’d snapped out of it in a second, but for a moment he’d seemed lost.
“War, Hilly. Not a picnic.”
Right. War. He was a soldier. He’d seen things. She’d studied enough wars and conflicts through her father’s rigid history teachings that she understood what soldiers saw, and how it might haunt them.
What she’d never understood, no matter how her father had praised courage and bravery in fighting to protect, was why. Why did some people get to do that and some people were hidden away in cabins protected from an outside world for their whole lives?
“Why do you think you should be the one to help? I mean, what makes you feel like out of all the people in the world you should risk yourself for someone else?”
“Because I can or could. Because it’s the right thing to do. Then. Now. Maybe that sounds oversimplistic, but it’s the core of who I am. I don’t know how to explain it any differently than that.”
“I think I understand,” she said quietly. Maybe not fully, but in that moment of watching him struggle with the dream, she’d wanted to help. Not because she should, but because someone should and she was here.
She wanted to find her father, even if it meant trusting Cam and infiltrating this dangerous group, because she loved her father and she didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.
She stared at Cam, and though she could only make out the murky shadow of him, she felt as though he were staring back. Studying her. Assessing her, but not in a bad way, exactly. She didn’t understand it, or the way her breath bunched up in her lungs.
When a mechanical sound trilled through the air, she jumped a foot.
“My alarm,” he said, his voice still flat. He reached over to grab the phone and made the noise stop with a push of his finger against the screen. “Time to pack up. We’ve got some hiking ahead of us.”
“Cam...” But he just kept moving, rolling up his sleeping bag, expressly not looking at her.
She wanted to protect. Like he’d done when he’d helped her out of the cabin, when he’d made her stay in the tent to see what the noise was. She wanted to be brave, and step between him and danger, between her father and danger.
For the first time in her life, she had the chance to be the one fighting for the right side of things, instead of hidden in the cabin.
She was going to take it.
Chapter Eleven
The morning was cold, and Cam wished he’d taken the time to heat up water for coffee. He missed his bed and the ranch work that steadied him the morning after a dream. He missed his routine, and for the first time since he’d seen Hilly in the police station, he wished he hadn’t.
He couldn’t seem to lie to her. He didn’t care for her earnestness or her complete lack of reading a situation enough to know not to ask an uncomfortable question.
Not her fault, but that didn’t put him at ease. He was only glad they were approaching where the compound should be, and he could focus on that.
“Do you want to go over it one more time?” he asked, studying the rocky outcroppings and tree line as he adjusted his backpack on his shoulders.
He heard her inhale and exhale. “You’re Cameron Tyler. I’m Leigh Tyler. Married a year ago.” She went through the details of their fake courtship and marriage that they’d lined out together. “We’re just looking for a life of freedom.”
“It’s not just about freedom. It’s about shrugging off the bonds of tyranny.”
“Now, that does sound like my dad.”
“They’ll expect you to talk a certain way. Now, we’re playing roles here, so I’m going to do most of the talking. You won’t like everything I say, but you’re going to smile and nod and pretend like you agree wholeheartedly no matter what.”
“What kinds of things are you planning on saying?”
“It’s not that I’m planning on saying anything in particular. It’s just they’ll expect me to be in charge, and you to be...” He knew how his sisters would react if he explained any of this to them. Trying to inflict great bodily harm on him regardless of how little he agreed with it.
“What?” Hilly demanded.
Cam glanced back at her. She really was clueless. “Let’s just say these kind of guys see a woman as... They expect people in a relationship to have certain roles. My role will be a more leadership one. Your role will be more...domestic.”
“Ah. I cook. I clean. I’m in the dark about every important decision. Yes, believe it or not, I’m familiar with that one. Though to be fair I didn’t care so much about a woman’s place being in the home until I was left helpless in the home.”
He wanted to glance back at her again, get a read on her expression. Those words were bitter to an extent, but with a certain amount of acceptance. But the rocks were loose here and the trail steep, so he kept his eyes on the ground. “Just don’t take anything I say to heart, okay? It’s not my opinions or thoughts. Everything I say is all for the end result.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be good at acting. Being Leigh Tyler and shrugging off the bonds of anything, let alone tyranny.”
“Don’t consider it acting. I’m going to be doing the acting. You’re the observer. You watch people. Pay attention to what they say, how they act, where they go. Their suspicion will focus more on me than you, so you’ll have more opportunity to pay attention without them noticing anyway.”
“And what if my dad isn’t there?”
“If that’s the case, then we’ll say we miss the convenience of life on the grid and want to head home. Or we’ll sneak away and find a new lead.”
“You think we’ll have to sneak away?”
He shrugged, trying to sound unconcerned. “Probably not. It’s not a cult. Exactly.”
“Wow. That’s reassuring,” she muttered.
Cam wanted to find the right words to set her at ease, but he felt a prickle at the back of his neck. “Someone’s close,” he said as quietly as he could. “Just keep following me.”
Hilly stumbled a bit, and Cam tried not to scowl. She was right. She was not going to be good at the acting thing, but it wasn’t fair to expect her to be.
She caught herself before she fell and they hiked on, toward where he’d figured out the compound might be.
Whoever was out there followed, and Cam figured if this was a test, it wouldn’t do to act like a total moron. A lot of the Protectors were former military, according to what he’d read about the group, and he planned to use his own service to suit that purpose. Which meant he had to at least act like a Marine.
So, on occasion, he’d stop Hilly and pretend to study the woods. Sometimes he’d point in the direction he thought they might be, and whisper something encouraging to Hilly about how good they were doing if someone was following them.
She didn’t seem to share his happiness over that fact, but it wasn’t the be-all and end-all. It’d be easy to convince whoever needed convincing he was all in, and his wife had her reservations, without that looking poorly on his chances with the group.
He had to hope.
He wasn’t startled when a man melted into view seemingly out of nowhere, planting himself in the path Cam had been following. Cam had felt his approach in a way he couldn’t explain exactly, but he still tried to school his face to look surprised. A flicker of unease, and then the careful banking of it as he would have done if these were his Marine days and someone had come out of nowhere at him.
He stopped in the trail, positioning himself in front of Hilly. A spousal protective instinct this man could hopefully appreciate. “It’s okay, honey,” he said, in a low, soothing voice. He kept his gaze on the man in their way. “A
re you a Protector?” he asked.
The man was tall and broad shouldered, but more lean than burly. He wore fatigue pants and a brown Henley. A dark beard covered his face and he wore a camo hat pulled low so Cam couldn’t get a good read on him. He had a gun strapped to his chest, and if Cam’s instincts were still on point, a lot more weapons were on him. Hidden.
The man gave no answer to Cam’s question, and didn’t move. He stood still as a statue blocking Cam and Hilly’s forward progress.
“We wanted to join,” Cam continued. “If you are one of the Protectors. That’s what we’re looking for. I’ve been reading a lot about you guys.” He worked on sounding eager, and in the end it wasn’t hard because he was eager. To get to the bottom of this and give Hilly the answers she deserved.
“Can’t believe everything you read on the internet,” the man said gruffly.
“No, sir. You sure can’t, but I figured it was worth a shot to find out for myself.” He stood a little straighter, as if the opinion of a strange man with assessing eyes mattered to him.
“You in trouble?”
Cam adopted a somewhat sheepish expression. “A little. Nothing major. I’m not running from anything. Had a small wheat operation, but all these government agencies are squeezing me out of business with a bunch of overreaching regulations. I got into it with some bureaucrat and I’m over it. Something needs to be done.”
The man studied him, and though Cam knew how to read an enemy, this man was a blank slate. It caused a sliver of unease to press down on his chest, but he didn’t let that show.
“Follow me,” the man said, abruptly turning and beginning to stalk the same way Cam had been headed.
He glanced back at Hilly, trying to communicate with a look this was good. Surely the man had bought Cam’s story and was leading them to the compound. Maybe there’d be a test or two first, or an attempt to disorient them, but this was the first step he’d wanted.
Hilly didn’t look at all assured or happy, but he couldn’t let that stop him from hurrying after the man, Hilly and Free following after.
Yours to keep safe.
We know how well that went last time.
Cam shoved the old voice out of his head and focused on the mission instead.
* * *
THE PACE WAS PUNISHING. Sometimes Hilly had to jog to keep up. They seemed to walk in circles, up mountains and down, and yet the terrain all looked the same and she couldn’t help but wonder if this man was just trying to walk them to the point of delirium.
If Cam had any similar reservations, they didn’t show. She had to admit it was impressive how he’d sounded when he’d talked to the man. Like someone else.
Impressive, but also scary. Which one was the real Cam? Much as she figured it was the one she knew, the fact he could put on such a convincing mask, and so easily...
Well, it didn’t matter as long as he led her to her father. End of story.
“My wife’s getting a little tired,” Cam said to the man leading them.
Hilly was surprised, both at the odd jolt the word wife gave her, and at the fact Cam had noticed how hard she was struggling when he hadn’t looked back at her once.
“Sounds like a you problem.” But the man stopped, pulling a water bottle out of his pack.
Cam did the same, but instead of taking a drink, he handed it to her. Hilly took it and sipped, hoping the longer she took to drink, the longer they could rest. God, she wished she could sit down, but the man was staring at her.
Hilly shifted and looked away, but she could feel his gaze still on her. There was an intensity to his stare that made shaky nerves work through her body. She didn’t feel threatened, so to speak. She felt seen through. Like he could read every last fact about her with that long, intimidating glare.
“We’re almost there,” he said after a while.
When Hilly dared glance at him again, he was filling a small plastic bowl with water. He whistled Free over, and the dog happily trotted to him and began to drink the water. It was a nice gesture, but that only made her more nervous.
She glanced at Cam. For the first time, the eager mask he’d been wearing the whole time had fallen, and he looked grim and suspicious. In his hands he held his own bowl for Free, though he hadn’t filled it.
“You’ve got a good dog here,” the man said, running a hand over Free’s head. He glanced up and locked eyes with Hilly.
Again, it wasn’t threatening in a way that made sense to Hilly, but she wished she’d left Free with the Delaneys. Wished she’d done so many things differently, because the man kept looking at her, not Cam. Something wasn’t right about that, considering even with Cam’s act, it was pretty clear he’d be more of a threat to the man than Hilly.
“She’s the best,” Cam said proudly, his mask back in place.
“Quiet one you got here,” the man said, nodding to Hilly, and his brown eyes never left her face. “What did you say your name was again?”
Cam opened his mouth, but the man held up a hand. “I’m asking her.”
“We didn’t tell you our names,” Hilly replied, not missing the way Cam closed his eyes as if disappointed in her answer. He wanted her to act, but she didn’t know how.
The man nodded thoughtfully, scratching Free behind the ears. It was a friendly touch and yet it took everything Hilly had not to call Free back to her, not to jerk her away from this dangerous man.
“What’s your name then?” he asked.
“Leigh.”
“Leigh what?”
“Leigh Tyler.”
“And do you want to be here, Leigh Tyler?”
Panic had her whipping her head to Cam. What was the man getting at?
“I didn’t ask your husband, ma’am. I asked you. Do you want to be here?”
Hilly swallowed, trying to remember everything Cam had told her. Be as truthful as possible. The closer to the truth they kept, the harder it would be for them to catch her in a lie.
So much for Cam doing all the talking. “I’m on the fence.”
The man raised an eyebrow. “You’re on the fence, but you’re here.”
“It means a lot to Cameron,” she said, glancing at Cam helplessly. She couldn’t read his expression. Couldn’t be sure she was doing the right thing at all. She thought about what Cam had said regarding the group’s thoughts on men and women, and decided to be like Cam. Play her role. “I trust Cameron’s decision making. That’s why I’m here.”
The man considered this. He gave Free one last pet, then picked up the bowl Free had emptied and shoved both it and the water bottle into his pack. Then, without a word, he began to walk again.
Free trotted happily after him, then Cam, then her. Her feet screamed in pain and exhaustion, but there was no choice but to hike after them.
Behind his back, Cam gave her a thumbs-up, which made her relax a little. She’d done the right thing. Cam approved. She could breathe again.
At least until the man led them into a small clearing. There was a large tent on one side, more of a lean-to with canvas covering all but one side. There were a few people inside who appeared to be cooking over a fire pit or washing dishes in a tub of water.
On the other side of the clearing was a handful of small tents, all the same canvas color and uniform distances apart. They weren’t like the backpacking tent Cam had brought, but more of a square shape, taller, like you could stand up inside them. Everything was oppressively quiet.
It gave Hilly the creeps. But they were here. Was her father? Could this all be over? God, she hoped so.
The man leading them kept walking, straight to a tent in the middle of the line. He pointed at the flap. “This will be yours. Put your things inside, then come to the common area.” He pointed to the lean-to. “I’ll have a lunch prepared for you.”
“I’ve got food. We don’t need�
��”
“You’ll do as I say, thank you,” the man said, and then was striding away toward the lean-to.
Cam shrugged and lifted the flap, stepping inside. Free followed, so Hilly did, as well. Inside wasn’t tent-like either. There was a small cot in one corner, an empty basin in another. The ground beneath their feet was mostly dirt, as though all the grass had been trampled away.
Was her father in one of those other tents? Were they safe here? Too many questions were lodged in her chest and made it hard to breathe. Cam didn’t say anything, and that made the pressure worse.
He set his backpack down by the basin, and gestured her to do the same without a word. She did while he looked around, examining the canvas walls, the ground, before he came back to stand next to her. He leaned close, so close, she could only stand frozen as he whispered into her ear.
“This isn’t it.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, full volume, wincing at the sound of her own voice echoing through the tent.
Cam shook his head, then rested his hands on her shoulders, keeping her close so he could whisper in her ear again.
“Don’t know who’s listening, so whisper. This isn’t the compound. It’s a test. This place is some kind of decoy. But I’m betting if we convince them we’re the people we say we are, they’ll move us to the main one.”
It was strange to have words leave a cold ball of fear in her stomach, while the brush of his breath against her ear made her skin feel hot.
“How long?” she asked, remembering to whisper this time. She didn’t lean forward to his ear, though. They stood practically nose to nose, his hands still on her shoulders, a heavy, strong weight. Like an anchor.
His expression went to that focused intensity of following a mission to something softer, something like regret. This close she could see the makeup of the hazel in his eyes, the play of brown and green. She could see the growth of whiskers across his jaw, little prickles of darkness against the fair hue of his skin. His mouth looked soft this close.