by Nathan Jones
But whether fear, hope, a dull leaden determination to keep moving, or some mix of the three kept her going down that vast, open, vulnerable hillside, and then across the flat at the bottom and up the next, she did. And for all the tension, no rumble of engines shivered the air to warn of enemies approaching. The next hilltop only showed more empty land, same as the one before.
That's how it went the rest of the day, rolling grassland and ambling livestock and the wind stirring the grass like waves and buffeting her ears. The thick braid her mom and put her hair into barely stirred in the breeze, although individual strands whipped free until she was afraid the entire thing looked like a frazzled mess.
Better than letting it hang loose and blow everywhere, she supposed.
They finally found a stream meandering away from the distant mountains east of them, the banks thickly lined with trees in a startling contrast to the empty prairie only dozens of yards away in either direction. Her dad decided it was a good place to stop, even though sunset was still hours away. They could properly water the animals. Wash away the dust and grit kicked up by so many hooves, which settled on skin and clothes and caked with sweat until Lisa felt completely grody. Maybe they could even get some proper rest.
She watched Bryant and got them both washed up as her dad tended the animals and her mom prepared the food. Her four year old brother squirmed, not liking the cold water and complaining vocally about it, but she grit her teeth and did her best not to get annoyed at him. She knew the way she felt about her brother wasn't fair, and especially that she couldn't completely hide those feelings even after all these years.
But whatever mistakes she'd made in the past, the only thing she could do was be better for him now. And she did love Bryant, even if she hated where he'd come from; he couldn't help that any more than the rest of them could.
Besides, Lisa had to admit her brother was adorable, even when pouting about having to wash up in cold water.
Finally, refreshed and with their camp set up and the animals settled down, her family leaned back against their saddles around the nearly smokeless fire her mom had built, just like Trapper had taught all of them, to enjoy dinner.
“You've been quiet all day,” her dad said to her mom, pulling her into his arms and kissing her forehead.
Her mom smiled wanly. “Isn't that the point, when we're trying to sneak to safety with a wealth of livestock and countless hungry mouths around us?”
Her dad returned the smile with equal weariness. “What mouths? We haven't seen a soul in days now. This entire area is deserted.”
After a pause to glance at Bryant and Lisa, who studiously pretended she was intent on her food, her mom lowered her voice. Although Lisa could still hear her. “That's what's worrying me, honey. Where are all the people fleeing Sangue? After Grand Junction fell and that opened the floodgates, they should've been flooding north along with us. So where are they?”
Lisa held back a frown; she hadn't considered that, mostly just relieved no one seemed to be around who might try to attack them for their livestock.
Her dad's smile faded, and from his expression it was obvious he'd also been wondering that. “Maybe they were all caught,” he offered. “Sangue moves fast with their vehicles.”
“They can't all have been caught,” her mom shot back, shaking her head stubbornly. “We weren't, and we hung around in the bowl valley for a long time before finally deciding to head north. So where are all the people ahead of us?”
He obviously had no answers, looking a bit helpless. “It's possible they are ahead of us, somewhere even farther north and still running.”
“All of them?” Lisa blurted. Her mom was right, now that she thought about it this was really weird.
Her mom shook her head, expression troubled. “Maybe the folks we've talked to are right, and Sangue is already ahead of us. Maybe everyone else knows better than to walk right towards whatever invasion front they've got going, where their bandits will be most active.”
“It had occurred to me,” her dad grudgingly admitted. Then he waved at the rolling expanse of grassy hills all around. “But even if that's true, here's not the place to go to ground and hide from the bloodies.”
Well, that was certainly true. Lisa couldn't help but shiver, feeling suddenly vulnerable even in the trees where they were. “Maybe we shouldn't have stopped early,” she suggested, trying not to let her nervousness show. “We should be hurrying to get someplace safer. Maybe east, to those mountains?”
Her dad nodded slowly. “Maybe.” He stood with a grunt, shoulders stooped with weariness. “Get some rest if you can. I'll take first watch.”
It was still a bit early to sleep, so as he walked away Lisa's mom patted the ground in front of her. “Come here, honey. While we have some time, we might as well give your hair a good brushing and redo your braid. Then you can give me a hand with mine.”
Lisa did her best not to make a face. She didn't mind getting her hair brushed, at least as long as there weren't too many tangles, but she secretly thought her braid could probably last another day. Besides . . . “Why bother? It's not like anyone's around to notice if my hair's a mess.”
Her mom gave her a wry look. “We take proper care of ourselves for our own benefit, first and foremost, even if we're the only ones who get to appreciate it.” It was her turn to make a face. “Besides, do you really want there to be someone around to notice us, looking our best or not?”
No, actually Lisa really didn't. She sighed and scooted over in front of her mom. “Can you do it in those two fancy braids this time? I like that better.”
* * * * *
Lisa ended up getting last watch, which was generous of her mom since it was her turn for middle watch, which was the worst one.
First you got woken up halfway through the night, then you had to stay awake for what felt like forever in the dark listening to scary night sounds. Then, after spending hours struggling with all your might not to fall asleep, once it was finally time for the next person on watch to relieve you it seemed like that was when your body decided to go wide awake.
Last watch was actually pretty nice, aside from the early morning chill and still being tired from not getting quite enough sleep. She could watch the eastern horizon slowly brighten, the silhouettes of the distant mountains going from black to dark gray to bluish grey, then disappear with a blinding glare as the sun rose over them.
With only infrequent breaks to make sure the animals were staying put, and do a quick circle around the camp to make sure everything was quiet and peaceful, the watch shift was dull and uneventful. It was pretty much inevitable in that quiet, lonely time that she'd end up thinking of Skyler: wondering if he was somewhere back in the mountains, watching the eastern horizon brighten along with her. Probably out with the volunteers defending the valley.
Lisa wondered if he missed her, feeling a sad desolate pit in her stomach as she remembered his cocky smile, and all the adventures he'd dragged her along on. With Trapper teaching him everything he knew, her friend had been almost recklessly confident and independent, always wanting to go over one more mountain ridge, explore one more valley.
She hoped Skyler was safe, wherever he was. That he wasn't running off and doing something stupid, thinking he was more than up to any challenge he ran into. Out of everything Trapper had taught her friend, he'd never been able to teach him the caution and thoughtful planning ahead that the mountain man was famous for.
How was it possible that she could fervently wish she'd stayed behind with Skyler, and that he'd come along with her family, both at the same time? She supposed she just wanted to be with him, wherever they were.
They'd barely had a chance to admit their feelings for each other before having to say goodbye, maybe forever.
Lisa finally couldn't stand sitting around feeling lonely, and got up to check the animals, get the fire started and breakfast cooking, then began packing up. It was earlier than usual to leave, but hopefully her tal
k of moving a bit faster through this dangerously open terrain had convinced her parents. Besides, they'd had an early night, so an early morning seemed reasonable.
Either everyone else agreed, or the smell of food lured them out of bed. Bryant was first, slapping the door of their parents' tent and fumbling at the zipper, which he still couldn't quite manage to work. Before Lisa could come to his rescue, the zipper came up and her mom sleepily poked her head out.
She ducked outside, shoes untied, and with a slight grimace picked her son up and sniffed at his nighttime diaper, wrinkling her nose. “Phew, thought I was smelling that all morning.”
The four year old was mostly potty trained, but still had problems at night, especially since they'd started traveling. Lisa's mom took him down to the creek to get him changed and clean up him and his diaper, while her dad ducked out of the tent scratching at his sleep-tussled hair, then wandered off into the trees out of sight of the camp.
Less than half an hour later, all their preparations to leave finished with the practiced efficiency of almost two months of travel, they get the herd moving. Although in spite of Lisa's suggestion yesterday that they should start making for the mountains, her dad decided to keep them headed straight north.
“We'll get out of this terrain eventually,” he said firmly. “And the faster we head for the edge of whatever territory Sangue holds up here, the sooner we'll be out of their reach.”
She supposed that was fair, although secretly wondered if they ever would outpace the enemy, since they just had horses and their herds slowing them down, while Sangue had vehicles. That was a frequent worry for her.
The day was as quiet as the last few had been, the rolling terrain around them remaining empty. Her dad went ahead to scout when they neared the top of each new hill, dismounting and dropping down flat on his belly to shimmy to where he could see the other side. He'd pan the entire area with the scope of his rifle, not taking chances, then finally motion it was safe for them to keep going. Then he'd ride back to help them keep moving the livestock along at a good pace.
It happened not too long after noon, as they were eating lunch in the saddle.
Her dad had just come back from checking the top of the hill ahead, and they were nearly to it. There, if they kept to their usual pattern, they'd pause for a minute or so to look around. Not really to check for threats or see where they needed to go next, since there was almost never any obstacles to going straight north; mostly just to briefly relieve the tedium of riding through this empty terrain by trying to find anything that wasn't rolling hills.
But before they could reach the top, Lisa felt a sudden prickle in the hairs on the back of her neck. A sense of terror she couldn't quite place. She froze, looking around anxiously and struggling to listen past the wind rustling in her ears.
A few seconds later her stomach dropped as she finally caught the almost imperceptible rumble shivering the air around her. The sound that had filled her nightmares ever since Simon's convoy was attacked five years ago.
Engines. Lots of engines, heading their way.
Lisa swallowed, feeling like she was going to throw up as dread churned in her gut. No. please, no. She glanced back at her mom, who was still as a statue clutching Bryant in a death grip, face ashen. The only sign of movement was a dark stain spreading across her mom's legs on the inside, near the saddle, and with shock Lisa realized she was so terrified she'd just lost control of her bladder.
She couldn't blame her, surprised she hadn't also peed herself in terror. She'd had sleepless nights filled with awful dreams ever since Newpost, at the thought of Sangue capturing them again. Subjecting them to the same horrific torments they'd suffered there. Especially as she began to mature, and came to the sick realization that she might soon be old enough that they wouldn't leave her alone this time.
She sometimes wondered if she'd rather die than endure what they'd done to her mom.
“Back down the hill!” her dad roared. He must've figured out that the vehicles were coming from the north, and was already wheeling his horse around and digging his heels into its sides to go back the way they'd come, shouting over his shoulder. “Go, go, go!”
Lisa hesitated, staring at the livestock still wandering along placidly, with no idea of the horror that was coming their way. Those animals represented all their worldly wealth, everything they'd worked so hard since returning to Emery to build for their future. “What about the herds?” she yelled as she kicked Nibbly after him.
It was her mom who answered, as she thundered her gelding even with Nibbly and then passed by, frantically whipping the horse with her reins. “Forget them!” she screamed, except she didn't say “forget”.
It was one of the few times Lisa had ever heard her swear. If nothing else made the horrific reality of their situation sink home, that did.
They caught up to her dad and galloped down the hill. Then, rather than pushing the horses up the last slope they'd just come down, he wheeled them to follow the flattest possible terrain, going slightly downhill to the west.
The next few minutes were a nightmare blur of thundering hooves, thundering heartbeat, and sick dread that made her clutch the reins so hard they dug into her skin, and clench her legs to Nibbly's sides so tightly they were soon a burning agony. All the while the rumble of approaching engines grew louder and louder.
Then, with shocking suddenness, the rumble became a roar as a truck came up over the top of the hill behind them, quickly followed by two more. The three vehicles almost immediately veered from their southward course to pursue the three horses, the one in the lead roaring down the hill and up the next one to flank them from a cautious distance on their left side, the one in the middle taking up position directly behind them, and the one in the back flanking them to the right.
Almost as if Lisa and her family were stray livestock being rounded up.
And just that quickly, they were caught. Why had she expected any differently, with vehicles that could easily outpace even a galloping horse? Riding in this open country, with nowhere to hide and no terrain to make for where trucks couldn't follow, what had they expected?
Lisa glanced over at her mom, who was hunched low in the saddle around Bryant, tears streaming from eyes wide with numb horror. Beyond her, Lisa's dad clutched his rifle as if ready to fight to the death the moment the trucks came close enough. Lisa tentatively unslung the AR-15 from her own back, not sure if she was ready to do the same but dreading the alternative.
She wished she'd spent more time practicing with it, even if their current situation was hopeless. Maybe there'd be some solace to going down fighting.
The truck on her side drifted a little closer, although still easily out of range of any hope of them hitting it from horseback. Rather than the usual drab olive color of Sangue trucks, this one was a sort of grayish-gold, almost the same color as the long late summer grass around them. She wondered what the different coloring meant, or if it was just camouflage for the terrain they were in.
The window on the passenger side rolled down and a man leaned out. Lisa tensed, ready to saw the reins and change Nibbly's direction sharply to try to dodge gunfire. But rather than a gun, the man lifted some odd cone-shaped device to his face.
Moments later his voice boomed across the distance, far louder than he could've managed even shouting as loud as he could, and she was able to hear his words clearly. Lisa thought she'd once heard her mom describing a device like that, although she couldn't remember the name.
“Attention refugee family,” he said, voice calm in spite of his incredible volume. “We are soldiers of the Northern League. We mean you no harm, but you're approaching our borders and we must insist you stop so we can speak with you.”
The Northern League? Was that some kind of Sangue trick?
Okay, so the trucks didn't look like what the bloodies used, and the man leaning out the window was pale and freckled and had hair the color of burnished copper. And they had come from the north, not
the south, and her family hadn't seen any sign of Sangue for days now.
Could it possibly be true that this was someone else? That her family wasn't doomed to capture and horrific torment? Lisa wasn't sure she could bring herself to hope for it.
Neither could her parents, it seemed; neither of them slowed, although her dad was gaping at the redheaded soldier. The trucks continued to keep pace with them, the soldier's voice booming out across the distance again. “The rest of our unit should've gathered up your livestock by this point. It's all safe, ready for you to return to claim it. Please stop running . . . we want to keep this friendly but orders are orders. I don't think any of us would feel happy about having to run a woman with a toddler or a kid down until your horses dropped dead beneath you.”
Absurdly, in spite of the situation Lisa bristled somewhat at being called a kid. Did the guy not see the rifle in her hands?
But more importantly, could it be possible the man was telling the truth? She glanced at her dad again, seeing him hesitate. Apparently her mom also saw it. “It's a lie, Bob!” she yelled, voice nearly incoherent. “It's a lie, we can't stop!”
In response he moved his horse closer to hers, gently reaching for the reins. “If there's even a chance it's true, what choice do we have?”
She snatched them away, spurring her horse even faster. Lisa's dad gave her a helpless look, then nodded in resignation. “Keep riding! I'll stop to talk to them, and you can stay a cautious distance away in case they turn out to be unfriendly.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned his horse up the hill towards the truck with the redheaded soldier, slinging his rifle across his back and raising his hands in surrender. The truck immediately began to slow, the others following suit.
Lisa wanted to weep with relief when she realized the soldiers were going to let her and her mom stay a safe distance away. But at the same time, the sight of the trucks moving to surround her dad made her feel guilty for leaving him. Almost before she realized what she was doing, and before she could curse herself for being an idiot, she wheeled Nibbly around to catch up to him, leaving her mom to ride on alone. Her mom shouted after her frantically, of course, but she ignored her and kept going.