by Nathan Jones
Tom nodded. “I'll ask one of the women to carry Miles.”
She reacted to that about like you'd expect from a mother who'd just given birth at the prospect of being separated from her newborn, and for a moment he thought she was going to be stubborn. But then she hugged their baby a bit closer and made a forlorn sound. “I suppose it won't be long before I'm struggling just to keep going, considering how hard it's been the last couple days while we've been running for our lives.”
“I'm sorry,” he said again, feeling helpless at the ordeal his wife was facing.
“I'm not.” She kissed Miles's tiny cheek. “This little miracle is worth anything we have to suffer.” She looked up, expression suddenly fierce as a mother bear. “You just keep us away from the monsters that want to hurt him.”
“Whatever it takes.” Tom reluctantly stood, leaning down to help her up. “Let's go.”
“Ready or not.” Gritting her teeth, Kristy did her best to stand as he pulled her to her feet, still clutching the baby close.
* * * * *
Skyler hadn't had a proper night's sleep since, well, since he'd left to go out skirmishing.
Even when he knew he was in a secure location, and he'd taken all the proper precautions, he'd still dozed fitfully and often started awake at nightly noises. Once he started sniping at bloodies, putting himself on their radar, he constantly had to worry that they'd bring in dogs, making it hard to sleep deeply with the fear he'd wake to feel jaws around his throat.
And it went without saying that after the nightmarish days being chased by that Sangue squad, he'd barely slept at all. Even after Trapper had come for him, and he was safe in his dad's company, sleep had been hard to come by.
And when it did come, the nightmares came with it.
The old ones, about his mom being attacked outside Newpost, or the attack on Simon's convoy that had ended with Lisa's family and Brandon and Fiona and Logan all being dragged off to face horrific torment. And newer ones, about his fights with Sangue, the death and horror he'd seen. Especially the friends and neighbors he'd lost and the few, like Derek Lyman, who'd died as a direct result of his decisions.
Skyler even, inexplicably, had nightmares about the bloodies he'd killed. He thought he'd been getting past that with the ones he'd killed to save his mom, five years ago, only to have a parade of new faces join them. New memories of screams of pain and horror from the wounds inflicted by his bullets, thrashing and twitching and going horribly still.
He didn't regret doing what he had to do to stop the enemy from hurting his loved ones. But that didn't mean those memories didn't eat at him, especially in the quiet, dark hours of night.
Which was why even though he'd been safe in the middle of the refugee camp, with Molly sleeping peacefully not feet away and friends and family in tents all around him, he'd still slept fitfully at best, constantly waking in a panic and having to remind himself he was safe.
Which helped explain why he nearly went for his pistol when a dark shape flew out of the darkness towards him while he was saddling Mary, even though he knew he was in a supposedly safe place. Then he spotted the long hair streaming behind the figure, pale in the predawn glow, just before she collided with his chest and he felt soft arms wrap around him.
He winced as her hug squeezed his wounded arm, but was too happy to see his friend to complain as he hugged her back awkwardly with his good arm. “Hey, Tabby.”
His friend didn't answer for several seconds, and he could've sworn he heard her sniffle, even though the sound was muffled with her face buried in his shoulder. “You're okay,” she finally mumbled, hugging him tight enough to make him wince; right on his gunshot wound, too. “You came back safe.”
The hug was starting to drag on long enough to feel uncomfortable, although not for the obvious reason of his injury. Mostly it was because of how good it felt in spite of the pain in his arm; after being on his own in constant danger for so long, to simply be held by someone who cared about him was, well, incredible.
Especially since it was his best friend. Just knowing he'd had someone besides his family who'd been waiting anxiously for him to come home meant more than he could say right then.
At the same time, this was definitely starting to feel a bit more than just best-friendy. Like when Tabby finally pulled back she might expect him to kiss her or something. And while he had to admit the thought sent a thrill of nervous excitement through him, nothing had really changed since their talk when he left.
He cared about her, really cared about her, but . . . he loved Lisa. Besides his family, she was one of the only things he'd held onto during the nightmarish weeks out in the mountains fighting Sangue.
To his relief, before he had to do something that'd probably hurt his friend's feelings, Tabby pulled away. Maybe she sensed his sudden tension. “Your mom had the baby,” she said into the slightly uncomfortable silence.
“I know, I saw him last night.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “Mom said you were there for her when it happened. Thanks.”
He couldn't tell in the dim lighting, but from the way she ducked her head so her hair fell over her face he thought she might be blushing. “I'm glad they're both okay. I can't wait to meet your new brother.” She squeezed his hand back, then let it go.
“How about right now?” he asked. “I was just getting the horses ready while my dad helps Mom get ready to travel.”
Tabby canted her head curiously, and he realized with a start that this was the first time he could remember that he'd called Trapper that out loud. No wonder the word had sounded so strange in his ears.
Then she gave him a brilliant smile, taking Mary's reins from him to lead the horse. “Sounds great!”
They found his mom struggling to stand with gritted teeth, clutching the baby close, while his dad bundled up her possessions for travel. A couple other men were already at work taking down the cabin tent, probably the ones who'd donated it considering the way his mom thanked them.
It was almost funny to see the way Tabby went nuts over the baby, rushing over to peek inside the thick blanket swaddling him with shining eyes. When Kristy offered to let her hold him she acted like it was Christmas, and cooed in delight as she looked down at his tiny sleeping face. “He's so cute! He's going to be breaking all the girls' hearts when he gets older.”
Skyler was a bit ashamed that his own opinion of his new brother's little squashed tomato face was a bit less generous. He knew you weren't supposed to say it, but most babies looked like that after birth; his first impression of Molly had been that she looked like an overripe plum. But she'd become adorable in no time at all, and he was sure Miles would too.
His mom came over to hug him, careful of his arm, and stared down at him with that same expression of joy and relief she'd worn last night. “How's your arm?” she asked gently.
“Fine,” he said automatically. Then he noticed Tabby staring at him intently.
“Arm?” she repeated.
“He got shot a few days ago,” Trapper replied calmly. “Through and through, healing well.”
Tabby's expression became mortified. “Why didn't you tell me when I was hugging you tight enough to smother a bear!” she demanded anxiously. “Did I hurt you?”
Trapper snorted in amusement, and Skyler felt his face heating. His mom was grinning too; he hoped they weren't getting the wrong idea about his and his friend's relationship. “It's fine,” he hastily assured her. “You were hugging a different place. Didn't hurt at all.” That wasn't true, but it hadn't been that bad and he didn't want her to feel guilty about it.
Thankfully, his dad changed the subject by getting right down to business, shoving the bundle into Skyler's arms. “Thanks for being quick. The sooner we can get your mom up in the saddle, the better.” He motioned to Mary. “Find a way to pad her saddle so she can comfortably sit on it sidesaddle, then get going even if nobody else is ready. I'll be up ahead making sure the path is safe.”
Skyler bar
ely had time to respond before his dad was rushing away to his own duties. He wished he could join him, but accepted that his mom needed him more. Besides, using his arm well enough to shoot was pretty much beyond him, which was why he hadn't even bothered asking for a new rifle yet.
Tabby went over to offer his mom a shoulder to lean on as Skyler got to work making Mary's saddle as comfortable as possible. He didn't know how his mom was up and ready to go after what she'd been through last night, especially considering she'd been off her feet for a day or two after Molly's birth, and had moved gingerly for a few more days after that.
It was hard not to be proud of that sort of strength and determination. It also made him feel bad for leaving her when she needed him, knowing he'd given her no choice but to be strong through his absence.
Had he really made the right choice?
Tabby was overjoyed at the chance to carry Miles while Kristy rode, cradling the baby in his carrying sling as if he was the most delicate glass. She walked beside Horse as Skyler rode through the camp, Mary's reins tied behind his saddle; it looked as if his friend intended to travel with them, and he had to admit he was happy she'd decided to.
The camp was still coming awake when they reached the Knudsens' tents, where Fiona and baby Thomas and a few of the women Skyler had rescued had also slept. Just about everyone was packed up to go already, which was a relief to see.
Molly was there, too, of course, holding Mer's hand. His sister had been asleep last night when Skyler crawled into bed to pass out, and also when he'd woken up not long ago. Now, however, the moment she saw him she immediately gave a squeal of pure joy and rushed towards him.
Skyler slid out of the saddle to scoop her up with his good arm, hugging her back as she wrapped her arms around him like she never intended to let him go. Which was fine with him; he'd missed her more than he'd expected, and was more than happy to carry her on Horse's back since there wasn't much else he could contribute with his injured arm. He just felt bad that Trapper hadn't had time to at least say hello to his daughter, after being gone so long looking for him.
He'd have to make sure his dad had the chance the next time he dropped back to check in.
Several women weren't far behind Molly, clustering around Tabby to gush over Miles. The mood became almost as celebratory as a holiday festival, which was more than a little incongruous with the rest of the refugees in the camp, who were rushing to move on because the enemy had found them.
But Skyler supposed it was never a bad thing to take moments of joy when they came, even at hard times like this; he was certainly happy to see his family and friends again.
Speaking of which, Fiona wasn't far behind Molly in throwing her arms around him, and Mer and the other women he'd rescued also grouped around to welcome him back. Logan was preparing to head out with Brandon, but he took a moment to clap Skyler on the back, as did Andy and Teddy and a few of the other Knudsens.
Skyler had heard from Trapper on the way here all about Sangue calling them Lobo Solitario, thinking they were the same person. Which explained why the bloodies who'd been pursing him had been howling and yelling that. So it didn't come as a surprise when his friends also ribbed him by calling him Lobo.
He was half afraid it was going to become a nickname. Although considering how he'd earned it, he supposed it wasn't the worst one.
Before long Teddy broke up the reunion, and everyone reluctantly returned to the situation they were in. People once again rushed around making final preparations, while Skyler climbed up into the saddle with Molly and started out leading his mom's horse, with Tabby and Fiona and the others who were ready to go joining him, eating as they walked.
Traveling with the refugee column was . . . frustrating. And boring. And excruciating. And sloooow.
Skyler was nowhere near a hundred percent, given his wounded arm and how brutally he and Trapper had pushed themselves to rejoin the group. To say nothing of running to the end of his strength to escape the squad that had chased him for days. In fact, he was probably the weakest and sorest and tiredest he ever remembered being.
And even so, he would've bet every single ounce of gold and silver and other valuables from his dad's cache, still waiting in its secure hiding place in a forest a short ways from the bowl valley, that he could've gotten off Horse and walked and still outpaced the refugees around him.
By quite a bit.
He felt bad for his impatience, since every time he looked back to check on his mom he could see she was in pure misery. And while Tabby had been overjoyed to carry Miles, having to walk so carefully with him combined with managing her heavy pack of possessions meant she was soon struggling. As were the other women with them, all burdened and dealing with children, and the men who had frankly overburdened themselves to pick up the slack for their loved ones.
Skyler felt like he should be walking too, and carrying a burden, and letting Horse either carry someone or take a pack, or both. But he knew in his current state he was deceptively weak, and if he didn't allow himself a chance to heal he'd end up in even worse shape. He had a feeling he'd be struggling himself after a day of riding, like he had been yesterday.
Also, he was ashamed to admit, it was nice to be able to doze in the saddle some more, catching up on desperately needed sleep.
Still, every time he looked up with a start from dozing, or from sinking into his own thoughts to stave off boredom, he was at first concerned and then alarmed to see just how little distance they were covering. He thought of himself and Trapper, practically flying across a wide stretch of mountains in a period of days, and how Sangue could move nearly as quickly when they were determined.
He despaired of staying ahead of their pursuit. In fact, at this rate he had a feeling the bloodies would be able to easily get ahead of them and cut them off.
Skyler hoped his dad was scouting carefully.
* * * * *
Around noon, Tom's worst fears were realized: Sangue wasn't just coming at them from the northeast.
Dennis came hurrying back to meet him from his picket to the northwest, with the grim news that he'd spotted a large force of bloodies, at least a hundred, roughly five hours away, spread out in a vast line pressing south.
“They're not searching with methodical thoroughness like they usually do,” his friend said grimly. “They know they're chasing a big group, and their goal is to put eyes on us. The only thing slowing them down is checking all the places they pass where hundreds of people could possibly hide, and that's not much of a delay.”
Tom bit back a curse. Five hours wasn't an emergency, at least not yet, but it was definitely too close for comfort. He gripped Dennis's shoulder. “Head back up and keep eyes on them, warn us if they speed up or change direction.”
His friend nodded and hurried back the way he'd come. Tom sent out a few runners to the other scouts he'd sent to the west, southwest, and south, alerting them to the change in their situation and that he was going to recommend that Mitchells change direction to take them more southwards, away from the new force of bloodies.
Because of that, he wanted them to come back immediately if they spotted enemies in any other direction, so the refugee column's change in direction wouldn't send them directly into danger. Once that was done, he headed back to find the sheriff and Jonas.
To his dismay, the refugees were taking a break to eat when he arrived. They looked exhausted, and for all he knew they'd only been stopped for a few minutes, but even so it wasn't what he wanted to see.
They weren't going to escape danger by moving at a crawl.
From Mitchells's reaction to his news about the Sangue to the northwest, it obviously wasn't what the man wanted to hear. He cursed a blue streak, almost as if he hadn't expected there to be bloodies out there when by all reports over a thousand were swarming the mountains in pursuit of them. Then he agreed with Tom's recommendation to turn more south, chivvying everyone up and moving.
“Break's over, folks!” he called. “We
're not alone in these mountains, let's act like it!”
“What's Jonas telling us from the other directions?” Tom asked.
The sheriff shook his head grimly. “The group that found us to the northeast has been steadily closing in, but they're still several hours out, like your new group. Gerry's got his people serving as a rearguard while the rest of the fighters scout.”
He nodded, feeling sick at the news, even though it was nothing surprising.
The enemy was only hours away, and his wife and oldest son were slowed and struggling to keep moving while recovering from their respective ordeals. Danger was sweeping down on them, and neither of them were up to running away from it just yet.
But there was no choice, if it came to it.
Before heading back out to his scouts, Tom sought out his family. He was a bit worried to find them closer to the back of the refugee column than the front. Kristy's face was white with strain, jaw clenched in determination and sweat streaming from every pore, hunched in her awkward sidesaddle posture and grimacing harder with every jolt of Mary's placid steps. Tom couldn't help but notice that she'd been tied to the saddle in a makeshift harness so she wouldn't have to hold herself up, which worried him.
Skyler was riding just ahead of her with Mary's reins still tied behind his saddle. He was slumped in the saddle, looking equal parts bored and exhausted, holding Molly securely as his head nodded in a half doze and Horse ambled contentedly after the people walking just ahead of them.
Molly saw Tom coming and shrieked with pure joy, throwing herself out of her brother's arms to try to get to him. Skyler jerked awake just in time to catch her, wincing as he was forced to use his weak injured arm, and Tom hurried forward to take his squirming daughter and hug her tight.
“I missed you too, sweetie,” he murmured as he kissed her forehead, a bit embarrassed at the tears that misted his eyes. He kissed her again and hugged her head to his shoulder. “Golly, I missed you.”
Skyler had nudged Horse out of the line so their reunion wouldn't slow down the people coming up behind, and Mary followed, along with Tabby carrying the baby and Fiona with Thomas. Still hugging his daughter close, Tom made his way over to rest a hand on Kristy's knee. “How you holding up?”