"The Rogues will have to break for camp soon," I say. "We need to be careful we don't run into a perimeter patrol."
"Shhh!" Jody grabs me by the wrist. "I heard a whinny."
I stand rooted to the spot, breath on pause, but all I can hear are crickets tweeting and the occasional squirrel chatter.
"I'll check it out,"Jody whispers to me.
"I'm coming with you," I say.
Jody motions to the other riders to hang tight. We pad forward, parting the foliage as quietly as we can. I flinch when I hear a snort. The Rogues must be closer than we realized. My ears are warm and buzzing, my senses electrified as I search the deepening shadows for a silent patrol.
"Look!" Jody points up ahead.
An untethered horse stands half-concealed in a grove of trees, munching on a few scrubby tufts of grass.
Jody gestures to me to go to the left, then circles around to the right.
I grip the barrel of my gun and tiptoe forward, keeping my eyes peeled for the slightest movement. The horse lifts its head, still chomping, but quickly loses interest in me and returns to the grass. I loop around and meet back up with Jody. "No sign of any guards," I say.
Jody grins at me, her eyes aglow. "It's Bandido, Ida's horse. He must have got away from them." She whistles softly and the stallion pricks up his ears and trots over to her. He nuzzles Jody's neck and she rubs his head for a few minutes before leading him over to a tree stump. "Let's get out of here," she says, vaulting from the stump onto his back. I clamber up with considerably less grace and grab a hold of Jody's waist.
"Relax," she says. "We won't be galloping in here."
I tighten my grip. "I want to be prepared for the whiplash getaway if we run into Rogues."
Jody chuckles. She nudges Bandido into the undergrowth and steers him back to where the other riders are waiting.
Ida's eyes widen on our approach. She runs to meet us and falls on Bandido's neck, whispering in his ear. "Where did you find him?" she asks, blinking back tears.
"Grazing in a grove of trees," Jody says. She dismounts and helps me down.
"He always was a rebel," Ida says, a note of pride in her voice. "Probably bolted when they went to tie him up for the night."
"Which means the Rogues are camped out not far from here." Jody frowns. "We'll have to hide Bandido here. We can't risk the Rogues hearing him."
I watch as Ida leads Bandido over to a clump of spruce trees. She takes a rope from her pack and secures him to a trunk. "I'll be back soon, Bandido," she says, running her hand over his mane one last time.
I take a few swigs of water while the riders don their packs. My teeth chatter. The lure of starting a fire is growing stronger, but creature comforts will have to wait.
We trudge through the woods for another quarter mile or so before voices drift in our direction, interspersed with harsh laughter. The unmistakeable smell of meat roasting above a flame taunts my nostrils. I scoot over next to Jody to make sure my voice doesn't carry in the night air. "Let's get our bearings, figure out the sleeping arrangements, where the horses are tied up, that kind of thing. Once the Rogues are passed out, we'll make our move."
Jody relays the information back to the other riders. Like specters in the night, we merge into the foliage to scout out the perimeter of the Rogues' camp.
Once I'm close enough to get a decent view of the activity, I flatten myself on a bed of pine needles and peer out from under a canopy of ferns. A large campfire crackles in the middle of the clearing and several kills are roasting on a spit above it. Saliva pools beneath my tongue. My stomach rumbles and I squeeze it tight to quell the sound. The last thing I want to do is alert The Ghost that he has unexpected company for dinner.
Beyond the flames, small clusters of Rogues lean against their packs, limbs stretched out, jawing with one another. Some are dozing. It's too dark to identify them. Any one of them could be The Ghost. There's no sign of the horses and I don't hear any whinnying, so I'm guessing they're tethered in a grove on the far side of the camp. Luckily for us, the Rogues didn't want the odor of steaming horse droppings anywhere near their kitchen. It will make our job that much easier.
A tall, thin Rogue strolls back and forth along the perimeter in a leisurely manner, exchanging a few words here and there with the men seated around the camp. He's heavily armed but he doesn't seem overly concerned about threats. Maybe the Rogues are naive enough to think the riders wouldn't be able to track them down this quickly. I hug my jacket around me and rub my arms trying in vain to keep warm. There's nothing more we can do until the Rogues bed down for the night. That's if I don't freeze to death first.
I pull myself up and make my way gingerly through the dense cover along the camp perimeter to look for Jody. An owl whoops and flaps past my head hunting down fresh rations. I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart and continue creeping my way around until I spot Ida tucked behind a large cedar tree.
"Where's Jody?" I whisper.
Ida points to her right. "She went that way to find a tree to climb. She wants to see how many Rogues are guarding the horses."
"I'll go check on her." I peer upward into the leafy canopy. Twilight is closing in and I can't make out much more than the shape of the leaves networked above me. I'm not sure I'll be able to find Jody, but maybe she'll see me. I tiptoe forward for a few minutes until a loud neigh startles me. I freeze in position. My first thought is that I've been spotted by a patrol on horseback. My heart thuds as I wait for a search beam to pick me out. But it doesn't. I slip behind a tree trunk and take a deep breath. I guess I'm closer to the horses than I realized.
I sweep the forest in front of me for any sign of Jody. She must have climbed a tree already. It's not a bad idea for me to do the same. Safer than prowling around and spooking the horses before we're ready to make our move.
I suss out a tree that looks relatively easy to climb but is still tall enough to give me the perspective I need. Planting the heel of my boot on a nub, I push off and pull myself onto the lowest branch. The next one is too flimsy to support my weight, so I stretch a little farther to reach for the branch beyond it. I grit my teeth and feel with my foot for a crevice in the tree trunk. I push off again, but my boot slips, and my pack swings sideways, yanking me hard to the left. I scramble to catch hold of the branch below me and manage to grab it at the last minute. Weak with relief, I drape my body over it, then watch in horror as my water canteen tumbles from my pack, clips a branch, and lands with a dull thud in the pine needles below.
I stare down at it, blood pounding in my temples. No one in the camp could have heard it fall. But I need to retrieve it in case a patrol comes by and spots it.
I glance around at the neighboring trees, but there's no sign of Jody and I'm not high enough up to spot the horses. I wipe my clammy forehead and adjust my pack for the descent. I lower my right leg down and balance the toe of my boot on the branch below me. I'm getting ready to let my weight drop when a drunken voice belts out "Whoa, living' on a prayer."
4
I meld with the tree trunk, my pack protruding like a swollen stick insect. It must be a patrol.
"Take my hand an' we'll make it I swe-ar."
He's coming this way.
The rough bark scrapes my cheek when I turn my head to get a better look. He's not in view yet. The only real cover is higher up in the tree, but there's no time to scale the next few branches. I'm dead anyway if he finds my water canteen. In desperation, I grab a pine cone and hurl it as far as I can into the brush. The footsteps come to an immediate halt. I hold my breath and listen. I don't know if I've bought myself enough time to make a run for it, or only prolonged the inevitable.
The Rogue mutters something to himself. He thrashes around like he's looking for something. I hear the sound of a cartridge being slammed into a gun. I swallow hard, my brain ticking over like a time bomb, as I scramble to come up with some avenue of escape. I'm fast, and he's drunk, but if I try to outrun him I might lead him st
raight to the other riders. My only other option is to take him out. I reach over my shoulder and slide my rifle out of my pack.
The thrashing sounds stop. Then a rasping laugh cuts through the shadows. "There you are. Perched up in them branches like a scared bird with its wings all tucked in."
The nape of my neck prickles. My fingers curl with a life of their own around the trigger.
"Shimmy on down now, cowgirl, before I shoot you clean out of that tree."
Cowgirl?
I hesitate. There's a prolonged beat of silence. Several trees over, the leaves rustle and part.
"Hold your fire," Jody says. "I'm coming down."
I clamp my lips together to keep from screaming out loud. I peer tentatively into the shadows and catch the glint of a gun. I lean out a few more inches and spot the Rogue grinning up into a tree. Jody's leg dangles down from the leaves as she reaches for the branch below her. I cock my gun and take aim at the Rogue's chest. The shot will alert the camp to our presence, but I have no choice. I can't let Jody fall into The Ghost's hands.
Before I pull the trigger a whistling sound goes by my ear. The Rogue keels over with a heavy thump. Jody freezes, one leg in midair.
Heart pounding, I vault to the ground and run to her.
"Jump!" I hiss, gesturing at her to hurry.
She snaps back to life, half-sliding the rest of the way down from the tree.
She embraces me and then turns to the fallen Rogue. "Is he dead?"
I give a somber nod. The arrow protruding from his chest hit its mark with unerring accuracy. "Did you see anyone?"
She shakes her head. "It came out of nowhere."
I swivel slowly, searching the shadows for any sign of an archer. My mind races to piece it together. Could Lou have had something to do with this? Did she follow us to the Rogues' camp, despite what she said about not wanting to get involved? I didn't see a bow in her camper van, but she had venison drying, so she hunts with something more substantial than snares and traps.
"We need to hide the body," I say, repressing a shudder.
Jody points to a dense patch of ferns behind us. I grab one leg, and she reaches for an arm, and together we haul the lifeless Rogue beneath the leaves and throw enough broken boughs over him until even the wild turkey feathers on the end of the arrow shaft are covered up. I scatter several handfuls of leaves and pine needles over the drag marks. "It won't be long before the Rogues realize he's missing. We'll have to strike soon."
"There are only two guards stationed by the horses," Jody says. "Between us we can handle them, but we won't make it out alive if we strike before the rest of the camp's asleep."
I nod. "Let's head back to the others and work out a plan."
We give the Rogues' camp a wide berth on our return trip to ensure we don't encounter any more patrols. I keep a watchful eye out for Lou, but she doesn't show herself. If it was her who shot the patrol, she still has no intention of being drawn into our horse thieving exploits.
When we get back to the riders I fill them in on what happened and sum up our predicament.
Ida is dubious about our chances of untethering the horses and making our escape while the Rogues are still awake. The rest of the riders indicate they'll go along with whatever decision we arrive at.
"If only we could find this Lou woman and ask her to help," Ida says. "She could take out the guards for us with her bow and the Rogues wouldn't hear a thing."
I rub my brow. "It may not have been Lou. There could be any number of mountain folk living alone out here for all we know."
"So we look for whoever it was who nailed the Rogue and enlist their help," Jody says. "If we wait any longer to strike we run the risk of the Rogues discovering that a guard's gone missing."
I raise my brows. "It won't be easy to find Lou if she doesn't want to be found."
"Let me save you the trouble."
I let out a yelp as someone lands on the ground behind me.
I spin around and stare at Lou. "You scared me half to death. You're like a ghost on steroids."
She smiles and leans her bow against a tree trunk. "I get plenty of practice stalking wildlife. You learn to become one with your surroundings."
I grin back at her, shaking my head in disbelief. "I knew it was you. Thanks for helping us out."
She shrugs. "You had him. But it would have been a shame to wake the rest of those thugs when I had my bow handy." She reaches into her pack and pulls out my water canteen. "This yours?"
I grimace. "Thanks, totally spaced on it." I take it and stash it in my pack. "So now that you're in the neighborhood, do you want to help us get those horses back?"
Lou folds her arms in front of her. "I don't do property disputes. I only shot the Rogue to save your lives."
"Stealing a cowgirl's horse is as good as leaving her for dead," Jody says, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "It was a hanging offense in times past."
Lou strokes her chin with her thumb and forefinger, letting her gaze travel over the riders' faces. "My corner of the woods is starting to feel more crowded than I'm comfortable with. If getting those horses back moves you on, I could be persuaded to lend an arrow to the cause."
Jody's face breaks into a smile. "I promise you won't see us for dust afterward."
Lou reaches for her bow. "I'll look for a good tree to shoot from. As soon as the guards are down, make your move. I'll cover you in the event one of the other Rogues hears something. Don't look back. I can slip through these woods like a spirit and they'll never catch a whiff of me."
"Thank you for everything." I level my eyes at her. "And I meant what I said before. You're welcome in the city anytime."
Lou nods. "I'll keep that in mind."
We follow her through the undergrowth, steering well clear of the camp's perimeter on our way to the grove where the horses are hidden. When they come into view, Lou hunkers down and studies the guards' movements for a few minutes. When she's satisfied, she selects a tree as her vantage point to shoot from. She scales it silently and efficiently, disappearing into the dark canopy above.
The riders and I creep around to the back of the grove and conceal ourselves behind a cluster of gnarled juniper trunks about thirty feet from the horses. A large chestnut mare, tethered on a short rope to a lodge pole pine, lifts her head and looks in our direction, then nickers and turns away. One of the two Rogues walking the boundary of the grove, throws a disinterested glance our way, then kicks a rock out of his path and continues on.
"Once the guards are down, stick close to me," Jody whispers. "Don't stand behind any of the horses while we're untying them. They'll be stressed and unpredictable."
I nod and settle down to wait, my breathing fast and fluttering. I glance across at the other riders, tense and ready to charge as soon as Lou's arrows find their mark. My heart pumps double time as the minutes go by. The guards make several passes back and forth along the perimeter and still nothing happens. My frustration begins to mount. What's Lou waiting for?
I shift my position and shake out a cramp in my leg. The two Rogues pause and exchange a few words before resuming their patrol. One of them stifles a yawn, and that's when the first arrow hits its target. The Rogue crumples to the ground with a muted bleat that barely reaches our ears. His partner swivels, aims his gun into the shadows, and catches an arrow straight through the heart. He pitches over and rolls down a small ridge into a hollow beyond the grove.
"Now!" Jody says.
Adrenaline spurts through my veins. I leap forward, tailing Jody as she pounds across the clearing toward Condor. He startles, then whinnies excitedly as we converge on the grove. The other horses paw the ground impatiently as the riders' fingers work to unravel the knots.
Jody flings the rope aside, grabs a stick and pole jumps onto Condor's back. "Let's ride!" she yells, extending a hand. She yanks me up behind her with a powerful tug. Before I have time to snake my hands around her waist we're off, veiled in the thick cloud of dust the agitated h
orses ahead of us are whipping up. We ride like the possessed, ducking beneath branches, weaving between trees, flying over downed logs and granite boulders. Behind us, I hear a cacophony of confusion and shouts, and a burst of gunfire, but it comes too late to stop the horses who seem to have sprouted wings.
In no time at all, we reach the spruce trees where Bandido is tethered. We pull up short and trot over to him, heaving for breath, but euphoric.
"Where's Ida?" Jody asks, looking around at the other riders as they canter into the clearing one by one.
We turn our heads in unison as the last horse limps into view. Behind the distraught rider, Ida's body sways back and forth like a broken reed.
5
Jody leaps down from Condor's back and races over to help the other rider lift Ida from the lame horse. I slide clumsily to the ground and rush to their aid.
"Ida, can you hear me?" Jody pleads, smoothing a hand over her clammy cheek.
Ida groans in response.
"We couldn't ride out of there fast enough," the other rider explains. "She caught a bullet in her thigh."
"We need to get her to the clinic," I say. "We'll have to go back."
Jody knots her brow. "If you want I can send a couple of riders on to the bunkers to warn the Undergrounders."
"No, it's too dangerous to split up. Let's get that wound tied up and get out of here." I pull a shirt from my pack and tear it into strips.
Jody works to secure the makeshift bandage around Ida's leg.
I wipe the sweat from my face with what's left of the shirt and look across at the rider examining the lame horse.
"What's wrong with her?" I ask.
"Could be a torn ligament," he says. "Her leg is badly swollen. I'll take her back to the city at a pace she can handle. The rest of you go on ahead with Ida."
"I don't want to leave you behind," Jody says.
"Ida's lost a lot of blood," he says. "You need to get her to the clinic before it's too late."
Jody gives a reluctant nod. "Thanks, Curly. Watch your back out there."
Judgement: The Undergrounders Series Book Three (A Young Adult Post-apocalyptic Science Fiction Thriller) Page 3