Mountain Man (Book 5): Final Stand [Last Ditch]

by Jones, Nathan

  “On my life,” Logan promised. He pulled away and ran off towards the retreat.

  When Brandon reached the longhouses where the freed slaves had been sleeping, he found them all gathered outside, waiting. Carl immediately broke away to intercept him as he approached, expression grave, and he quickly told the man what was going on.

  “You know I appreciate all you've done for us,” Carl said with a tight smile when he finished, “but I can't help but feel like you pulled us out of the frying pan and tossed us into the fire.”

  Brandon smiled back grimly. “Dance quick enough, and you can run across flames without getting burned.”

  The freed men's leader hesitated, then leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I've got to ask, for my own peace of mind . . . was this us? Did the bloodies find your town because you helped us?”

  He shook his head sharply. “It was a thorn in our side from the past, rearing his head at the worst possible time.”

  Carl gave him a curious look. “All right, then.” He glanced around and once again lowered his voice. “Want me to play it like it was us for the others? Way their mood is now, might be better to have them wanting to help you out of trouble they caused than resenting being yanked into the middle of your crisis.”

  For a brief, shameful instant Brandon was tempted to say yes. It couldn't hurt to have dozens of men feeling extra motivated to help out. He ruthlessly quashed the idea. “It's not exactly a secret, and even if it was your people deserve better than to be led around like that.”

  The emaciated man nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. “Then let's get to work hauling all our butts out of the fire.”

  * * * * *

  It had finally happened.

  Kristy had known it was coming. She'd even prepared for it. But knowing and preparing weren't the same thing as being ready for it. And she wasn't ready. In fact, with the baby due any day, maybe any hour, she couldn't think of a time when she'd ever been less ready.

  Sangue had found them. They were on their way with everything they had. And if they showed no mercy for their victims at the best of times, how much worse would it be for an enemy that had vexed them on so many occasions?

  Tom, why aren't you here? I need you.

  She knew it wasn't fair to think that, but that didn't change how she felt. If there was one thing she'd been able to count on ever since the mountain man who'd become her husband had first dropped down from a cliff back during that disastrous trip to Newpost, using nothing more than a knife to kill two bloodies who'd been about to find her and Skyler, it was that he'd always be there for her. There with his steady calm and his strong arms and his kind eyes, a barrier between her and the harsh world they lived in.

  And now he was off who knew where, looking for their son. Who, it went without saying, Kristy also really wished was here with her. And surprisingly, for many of the same reasons she longed for her husband to miraculously appear; if Skyler was here, she knew he would be able to protect her. The same way he had five years ago against those Sangue bandits just outside of Newpost, and every day since.

  But neither of them were here now, and no longing glances at the entrances to the valley would miraculously make them appear. For all she knew they could already be dead, and she was all alone with Sangue about to swoop down on her and Molly like birds of prey.

  No, Kristy wasn't panicking. She was beyond panicking.

  But she couldn't allow herself to think the worst had happened to the men in her life. She wouldn't allow herself to. And for the sake of the women around her she had to show a strong front, or else her panic might spread to them just when they most needed to be calm.

  So she tried to keep her back straight and her expression blank as Logan threw a saddle over Mary's back, ignoring Fiona hovering worriedly at her side.

  “You sure you're up to this?” the young woman asked.

  “Do I have a choice?” Kristy said, more impatiently than she'd meant to. Her friend gave her a helpless look, and a twinge of guilt joined the sense of despair and hopelessness threatening to overwhelm her.

  “You might not have a choice, but that doesn't change reality,” Keri said bluntly from where she stood beside Mer and the other women, holding a squirming Molly. “You're due any day now, and hopping on a horse to flee a horde of ravening monsters is the worst possible thing you could be doing.”

  Kristy knew her friends were just showing their concern, but she couldn't help but feel like the worst possible thing they could be doing right now was arguing about all this with her. Especially when there was. No. Choice.

  What was she going to do, stay and have the baby while Sangue descended on the valley? She doubted they'd show any more mercy for a woman in childbirth than they did any of the other men, women, and children they'd tortured, butchered, and enslaved.

  Still, the instincts that had earned her the nickname “Mother Kristy” were hard to ignore, even when her world was crashing around her as she faced a situation straight out of her worst nightmares. So she sighed and forced a smile, wrapping an arm around Fiona and hugging her briefly. “Our distant ancestors used to have no choice but to hike for miles across the savannas, squat to give birth at the last second, then pick up their baby and stumble on before the hyenas closed in. I'll just have to do the same.”

  Fiona hugged her back supportively, although Keri shook her head as she bounced Molly on her hip. “Our distant ancestors also had a tendency to suffer from complications like rectovaginal fistulas from pushing themselves like that. Just because you have to doesn't mean it's a good thing.”

  “What the heck is a fistula?” Mer demanded, wrinkling her nose.

  “Something I really don't want to think about at the moment,” Kristy said firmly. “Let's get out of here quick, so we can set an easier pace on the journey without getting left behind. That way I hopefully won't have to become familiar with one firsthand.”

  Logan stepped back from her horse, and she nodded in thanks and accepted his help pulling herself up into the saddle. Keri handed her up Molly, and she settled her daughter on Mary's neck in front of the saddle, the best she could manage with her huge belly already making things awkward.

  Speaking of which, the moment she was settled she felt the familiar pressure on her bladder that told her she should head for the outhouse. The reasonable part of her warned it was better to look foolish and climb right back down to take care of it, rather than having to stop in a few minutes when they were all on the trail.

  But her sense of urgency wouldn't allow it, so she grit her teeth for the moment.

  Kristy glanced around at the few pack animals they had, those they hadn't loaned to Camptown to carry supplies. There were barely enough to carry the group's necessities, and everyone but her was also hauling a heavy pack. Even Mer, with her injured and useless arm, and Fiona, who had Thomas in a sling across her front while she carried a burden on her back.

  This was going to be miserable for everyone. She had to remind herself of that before she started feeling too sorry for herself.

  She took a steadying breath and sat straight in her saddle. “Logan?” she asked briskly.

  “Just about ready to go, ma'am,” the ranch hand said. “Mostly need to manage what's left of the livestock. If you and Sis and Mer want to get started, we can take care of the rest and catch up.”

  The part of Kristy that had helped lead a successful ranch for years didn't like to ride off with the job undone. But the part of her that was on the verge of having a baby and had already suffered more than a few false labor pains wanted to get the day over with as soon as possible, and that couldn't happen until she actually got started.

  “We'll probably be near the Knudsen cabins,” she said in acknowledgement. “Or they can point you after us.” Glancing down at Fiona and Mer, who both nodded, she clicked her tongue to get Mary moving.

  As they made their way towards Camptown, she spotted a stream of townspeople going to and from the cliff on the north
west end of the valley, those heading out weighted down with valuables and tools and implements they couldn't take with them. That was a bit of unavoidable ridiculousness those people didn't have time for, but she supposed she could understand where they were coming from.

  At the request of Mitchells, Jonas, and Brady, Kristy had allowed them to use the cave where her husband had previously kept everything cached. It wouldn't hold close to everything the nearly thousand people in the valley couldn't take with them and had to leave behind, but it would at least hold the most important of it.

  The things that might help them rebuild, if they ever had a chance to come back.

  She wondered if it would even matter, if the hurried townspeople would even take the time to replace the tarp and shift the pile of rubble back into place, to make it look like a natural landslide. Even if they did, the trail they were beating by their coming and going would probably lead some Sangue patrol right to the cave, where they'd either steal or destroy all those precious items.

  No doubt she wasn't the only one who'd thought of that, and other people distraught about leaving behind most of their worldly possessions were wasting time searching out other places they could cache them. There were plenty of spots like that where they might not be found, especially if Sangue's search of the valley was only cursory.

  But even those most heartsick about the waste didn't take time for more than the most hasty of efforts. Just about everyone else, properly terrified of the approaching enemy knowing exactly where they were, simply piled their things into one of the abandoned cabins or other buildings and walked away.

  And the most sensible, like Kristy and her friends, were preparing to flee with only the strictest necessities ahead of the main column of refugees. She only hoped the Knudsens were part of that latter group.

  When they arrived at the clan's cluster of cabins, she found it a beehive of activity like the rest of the fledgling town. But somehow amid the chaos Kristy felt calm purpose, rather than panic; maybe that was because these were her friends.

  Leanne saw them coming and immediately rushed over. “Good, you're already ready,” she said briskly, reaching up to rest a supportive hand on Kristy's knee. “You up for this, honey?”

  “Guess I have to be,” she said as confidently as she could. Almost as if in defiance of the statement, she felt the baby kick.

  Her friend nodded, eyes concerned, but got back to business without a pause. “I wanted to ask a favor of you. I'd like to send Dennis and Wendy and the kids ahead with you while we finish packing up. Just in case Sangue swoops in faster than any of us expect, I want them out as soon as possible.”

  Kristy couldn't help but feel amused by the way Leanne had worded that. “Sending” her family along with a pregnant woman, a young mother with an infant, and a wounded girl was just a polite way of inviting the three of them to go with her husband and cousin, who had the fighting experience and would take charge of protecting the group.

  It was probably a mark of respect, but it still struck her as ridiculous. “Of course,” she agreed. “We can go whenever they're ready.”

  “Good.” Her friend smiled conspiratorially and leaned closer, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to tell the kids to be extra considerate of you with the baby so close to being due. They know how serious this is and should be obedient, but this might help make extra sure they don't go running off.” She patted her knee. “You know how much they all love you, and how excited they are about the baby. They can't wait to meet their new friend.”

  “Well, hopefully they won't be meeting the little guy for another week or so,” Kristy said. She couldn't inject the lightness into her tone that she wanted.

  Leanne's smile became a bit forced. “Hopefully,” she agreed. She briskly turned away, calling out sharply for the kids to gather up. Then, working with Tabby and Wendy, she got the little kids paired up with older brothers or sisters or cousins to keep track of them. Once that was done, she loaded anyone big enough to carry even a small burden down with light packs, mostly a spare set of clothes and blankets and tents and some water.

  Since there was a slight delay anyway, Kristy finally took the opportunity to get someone's help climbing down from the saddle and watching Molly so she could use the Knudsens' outhouse. There was a line there as others, especially the kids who'd be going with her, took care of last minute business before setting out. But Tabby swooped in from nowhere to shoo her to the front of the line, then was there when she finished to help her climb back up onto Mary's back, murmuring awkward but heartfelt words of support and encouragement.

  Dear girl.

  Dennis was leading a mule loaded down with provisions, and he shot her a questioning look as she settled back into the saddle and Tabby handed Molly up to her. Kristy nodded to him, and he nodded back and started forward leading the animal. She guided Mary after him, glad to see he'd set a brisk pace.

  Behind her, Mer and Fiona had each taken charge of a group of kids. They wouldn't be able to chase them, but they could at least keep an eye out and make sure no one went running off.

  The procession got started, over twenty people all leaving their homes behind and heading out on a difficult and probably dangerous journey across some of the roughest terrain around. They were one of the first groups out, as well, and Kristy noticed that even the scouts Brandon was supposed to send ahead were still gathering up.

  Well, hopefully once they left they'd outpace a bunch of women and children.

  Kristy's emotions remained a turmoil as they made their slow, semi-chaotic way out of the valley. Thankfully she thought everyone's attention was too focused on other tasks to pay her any mind, so she was able to clutch Molly comfortingly as she did her best not to freak out at her situation. She tried not to crane around to look at the other entrances to the valley for any sign of her husband or son, but if Mary hadn't been contentedly following Dennis's mule the entire time she probably would've accidentally veered the mare all over the place.

  Somewhere between no time at all and an eternity after they began, they reached the last vantage overlooking the bowl valley. In spite of the urgency of the situation, Kristy couldn't resist the urge to rein in there so she could have a final view of the place that had been her home for months.

  Up ahead, Dennis paused with the mule and glanced back at her, expression concerned. “Everything okay?”

  She gave him a rueful grimace. This was going to be an awfully long trip with everyone asking her that every five minutes, as if they expected the baby to come flying out of her at any second.

  Then again, judging by the way the little guy was wiggling around in there, they weren't completely wrong. “Fine,” she replied. “Just wanted a last look at our new home before turning our backs on it.”

  The others solemnly gathered around her, nobody protesting the wasted time. “You know, this place was pretty miserable,” Dennis said after half a minute or so. “Soil so stony it turns your shovel every time, ten minute walk each way to lug water. No chance at all of growing much of a crop. Cold nights and constant wind.”

  “When you put it like that, it did kind of suck,” Wendy agreed.

  Kristy couldn't argue any of that. The summer retreat had always been meant for grazing the livestock in high summer, nothing more. “Maybe we'll find someplace better,” she offered.

  “Maybe,” Dennis agreed. He reluctantly turned away. “Guess we should get started on that.”

  With equal reluctance, she turned Mary to follow, putting her back to the bowl valley and Camptown. Probably for good.

  She just hoped her loved ones didn't come back here after Sangue swooped in. That they'd know where she was going, and how to find her.

  * * * * *

  Tom had been coming across shell casings ever since he began following the squad of bloodies pursuing Skyler.

  That was a terrible sign any way he looked at it. At best it meant the soldiers were firing into the air to keep
his son jumping at the noise of gunshots, hunted and panicked and not thinking straight, which meant they had to at least be close enough behind the teenager that he could hear those shots. At worst those soldiers were shooting at Skyler, which meant he was in serious trouble and had been for days.

  The only silver lining, if Tom could call it that, was that the enemy was still shooting, which meant they hadn't managed to catch his son yet. That left a pretty gigantic cloud, one that had been messing with his head more and more as time went on, until he had to force himself not to throw caution to the wind and take reckless risks with Horse.

  He was almost to that point now, though, because the number of shells he was running across were growing more and more numerous, meaning the bloodies had to be closing the net on Skyler. He'd almost caught up to them now, and when he paused to listen carefully he was certain he could barely hear the distant crack of gunfire ahead, only a few miles away.

  This was the most dangerous time, since any soldiers skilled enough to keep up with his son had to be smart enough to watch their back trail as well. If Tom went rushing in he might end up in the same situation as Skyler, unable to do anything to help.

  But he couldn't ignore those shells winking like warning signs as he passed, every one of which had housed a bullet with his son's name on it. So he began looking for a way to close the distance on the SOBs trying to hurt his family, even if it meant taking risks he wouldn't usually.

  He wanted to live, wanted to get back to Kristy and his daughter and the new baby on the way, or perhaps already born, all waiting in Camptown needing him. But if he ended up dead to buy Skyler a chance to get away, he'd call that a fair trade.

  * * * * *

  Skyler stumbled at what felt like a punch in the back, a sick feeling churning in his gut as he ducked his head and veered behind another tree, putting more speed into his frantic run.

  The punch continued to throb, warning that he had at least a bruise and probably worse. If his flak jacket hadn't turned the bullet he'd probably already be dead or dying.