by Jon Gerrard
* * *
The plan to allow Mark to slip away from the rest of the group had worked perfectly. Just as she moved to climb up onto the flatbed, Momma Mary’s foot ‘slipped’ out from under her, sending her sprawling backward. Good planning had arranged for Ian to be directly behind her. But even the big man didn’t seem to be able to manage Mary’s bulk and down they both went—just as they had meant to. In moments a small crowd gathered to help them up. That had been Mark’s cue. Using the distraction created by Mary’s fall, he had been able to slide into the shallow gully that ran alongside the service road. He concealed himself in a clump of vegetation that grew there and lay perfectly still until the transport pulled away.
Once the transport was out of sight Mark began the long crawl toward the trees. The gully was not very deep and he had to stay on his belly to keep from being seen. The perimeter fence was just off to his right, not quite close enough to activate his collar. Still, being this close made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
He moved slowly, disturbing the vegetation as little as possible. The few guards who were nearby were facing the other way as they kept a casual eye on the hundred plus slaves still working in the field. For once he didn’t find the steady rain a nuisance. It would help to conceal his movements should one of them look in his direction. It was quite some distance to the point where the service road turned into the trees, but he kept flat to the ground and made steady progress.
It seemed to take forever but he eventually made his way under the protective canopy. He forced himself to be patient and continued to crawl along the ground until he was several meters into the tree line before rising into a crouch. No one was looking in his direction and he crept away.
Mark had never been much of an athlete and he soon found his wind flagging, but he kept moving nonetheless. The others said they would give him as much time as they could, but he had to get back to the compound as quickly as possible. Having spent several months walking and riding along the kilometers of service roads Mark knew where he was. They were working in the grotto fields today he thought to himself as he took the next right. In his mind he was picturing the layout of the fields and mentally plotted the path he needed to follow back to the compound. He still had quite a distance to go.
He continued plodding along, concentrating on keeping his feet moving, refusing to give in to the heaviness he felt creeping up his legs. The others were doing their parts, taking their own risks, and he would do his part too. He was so focused on keeping himself moving that he didn’t hear the sound of an approaching vehicle until it was almost too late. By the time the sound registered in his brain her realized that it was just ahead around the next bend. Digging into a reserve that he didn’t know he had, he put on a burst of speed and just managed to dive behind the concealing leaves of an ecca plant as the truck swung around the curve.
He was sure that he was completely hidden among the plant’s huge leaves but the truck stopped right beside his hiding place. Slapping a hand over his mouth as he fought to quiet his breathing, he listened in terror as the cab door opened and the driver stepped to the ground.
“What are you doing?” a voice called from the truck. “Mr. Rabine wants this stuff moved as quickly as possible!”
“Keep your shirt on, I gotta take a leak!”
The driver stepped up to the plant Mark was hiding in and began undoing his pants. A moment later Mark could hear him relieving himself right into the plant. He could also feel the warm splatter of the guard’s urine as it landed on his thigh and ran down his leg. The man must have been holding it in for a long time because it seemed to take forever before he was finished. Finally he did up the front of his pants and climbed back into the truck. A moment later it pulled away.
Mark waited until he was sure that the truck was far out of sight before he crept out of the bush. Ignoring the urine stain spreading down his leg he resumed his loping jog back to the compound. He had to get there as soon as possible.
A long time passed before the road broke into the open beside the great, fenced in meadow Rabine had created for his horses. Mark paused just long enough to be sure that no one was in sight before he pushed on. This was the most dangerous part of his journey. Where the road ran beside the meadow there was no cover. The roadside gully didn’t exist here and the open space above the meadow made the entire area bright. If anyone came along now he would have no place to hide. But the meadow also meant that he was almost back at the compound. He took off at the closest thing to a run he could manage, praying that no one would come along. His thighs were burning and his legs felt like they were moving through jell-o. In the distance ahead he could see the stable on the left. He kept his eyes scanning the open area ahead for any movement but there was no one in sight. He tapped into the last of his reserve strength and sprinted the rest of the way. His lungs ached and his legs were like dead weights but he pushed himself onward.
Finally he was at the compound.
Turning right, he hobbled behind the slave quarters as quickly as he could. He squeezed down between the garbage dumpsters and felt around behind one of them for the small package he had hidden there earlier. After a moment his fingers found the bundle. Withdrawing it, he unwrapped the dirty rag and took the small tools in hand. Only then did he relax. Leaning against the rear of the building he gulped air as he clutched the tools to his heaving chest. Now all he had to do was to wait until ...
Just as he glanced up at the top of the pole nearest to him the small indicator light winked off.