Strikers (26 page)

I’ve heard they have them down south in the cities, but I have a hard time imagining that much wire being used for something like that. What could people have to talk about on a phone? The very idea of not seeing a person’s face when you talk to them seems odd. But in the case of a long border, I guess it makes perfect sense. They’d need to be in touch.

“And as for them knowing, when Jordan left the territory he signed out and made sure the border knew he was coming to get you, his daughter. He made sure it was logged. And I’m logged as a resident so I can get back in,” he explains.

“How does that help these two? You said I can sponsor them?” I ask, still not sure how they’ll take my word for anything. I could be anybody. I could have stolen the pendants and killed Jordan. I can’t see why any territory cautious enough to have that huge wall and all those manned stations would believe me, with my marked neck and dirty clothes.

Maddix shrugs and says, “Truth be told, I’m not sure how they do it, but they can find out if you’re the person who is keyed to that pendant. And they have a policy about Strikers anyway. Takes longer, but they usually let them in. Or so I’m told.”

He must mean my DNA. They must have a way of checking that. I can only hope it actually does key to me and everything works out. Otherwise, I have no idea what I’ll do.

Connor’s been quiet and thinking this whole time, turning to watch each of us as we speak. He breaks in while we’re all trying to sort out the information and asks, “Yeah. That’s all fine and dandy, but how do we get across the dang river in the first place?”

Our plan is shaky, at best. That would be the optimistic assessment.

Jovan takes a trip to scout in the afternoon and reports back that the bridge is not a bridge, per se. It’s an old railroad bridge and it’s missing a big chunk in the middle. The disappointment is almost crushing when he breaks the news. The wall, the border and something that might be safety are just on the other side of that water. How many times will we have to take yet another turn, wake up in fear or fight for our lives before we get there?

On the upside, there is a thriving settlement of at least a few hundred people near the bridge and a whole slew of barges and boats of all sizes tied up there. He saw horses, but not Creedy’s horses, in the paddock. He thinks we might be able to steal one of those boats if we’re careful.

As night falls and the moon rises, we take once more to the trees. With that first step I commit to myself that I will not do this again. Even if I have to swim, I will get across that river and through that border and I won’t look back.

My confidence lasts right up until we hear the whinny of horses ahead of us. I freeze, holding out a hand for the others behind me in case they didn’t hear. They must have because the small sounds of our footsteps on the leaf litter stop abruptly and a single hiss of a frightened indrawn breath escapes behind me.

The moon is full and I can see Jovan’s face sketched in the silver light. His brow is furrowed and I know he’s thinking the same thing I am. That was the whinny of a horse in pain—like one with a burn in need of tending that isn’t because she’s still being used too hard.

Two careful steps is all I need to get next to Jovan. I pull his head down so that my lips almost touch his ear and breathe, “You said the horses were down below, by the village.”

He pulls back enough to see my face and nods, his eyes wide, the whites gleaming in the moonlight.

I mouth, “Creedy?”

He nods and shrugs at the same time, but motions us backward just the same. The minutes it takes to retrace back far enough to get out of earshot are eternal ones, fraught with the convincing notion that someone is going to hear us and that will be the end of us.

“The people at the river had their horses in a paddock near their village, not in the woods. There’s a road somewhere around there, though. I saw a sort of main street ending at the banks of the river. Either those are travelers waiting out the night, or it’s Creedy,” Jovan says.

“How would he know to come here?” I hiss, fear making me angry. It’s hard to believe that he found this spot right when we arrived at it. It makes no sense unless we’ve been seen somewhere recently. Given that crossing spots aren’t exactly common along the river, maybe this was the closest one.

“The fish!” Maddix whispers harshly.

Of course. The fish that Jovan stole. They probably reported it and maybe got word to Creedy. He would have gone to the nearest spot along our very stupidly direct path east. Why bother searching for us fruitlessly in an endless wood when he can stop us at the nearest crossing?

There’s dead silence in the group, each of us processing that possibility in our own way. I’m angry. The theft was an impulsive act that may wind up trapping us on this side of the river or force us to sneak further north before we can cross. My anger is dampened only by reminding myself that his impulsive act was borne out of a genuine desire to help us and provide Connor and me with something we’d never been able to experience. He meant it to be kind.

With that thought, I pull in a deep breath and think about how we can get past this. Maddix is healing well, but he can’t run for long, or quickly, before his breathing sounds like a bull in rut. Cassi is quick and agile, but she’s not aggressive and can’t force herself to be. Connor can be aggressive, but he might be of more use in getting those two to safety. That leaves Jovan and me.

If there were any proof needed regarding Jovan’s ability to get his hands dirty, it’s been amply provided already. He didn’t hesitate to reach down through the hole in the ceiling and shoot someone in the head. In truth, he has more cause to doubt my ability to do the same. I have no such qualms. I don’t have to sit down for a heart-to-heart with Creedy to understand what our situation is. I know it’s a grim one.

If he, as the trusted and ruthless right hand of Jovan’s father, is supposed to bring Jovan back into the family fold, there is only one way to do it safety. There’s exactly one way to be sure there’s no other story except the one they choose to tell, and that’s to be sure there’s no one left to tell a different one. If there is a confrontation with Creedy, I know he won’t hesitate to end my life.

That makes the situation rather easy for me. I have no choice. And left with no choice, I’m left with no qualms either. I know I won’t hesitate. This isn’t like the Courthouse. There, it was us who brought the danger into the Courthouse and the soldiers merely doing their jobs. Taking their lives would have been wrong. Creedy isn’t giving us options so there’s nothing to feel bad or guilty about.

Even so, I’d rather simply get away from him. He’s a ranch foreman with lots of experience with firearms. The only person here that even knows how to properly use a gun is Jovan, and he’s only had a little practice as a Cadet. Unless we catch him sleeping I can’t be sure we would win against him.

The glow of lights from windows in the few buildings at this end of town is visible from our little rise. The hum of a water generator makes a low noise that would be enough to cover the careful footsteps of people passing, but the moonlight will make it easier to see us.

We could sneak down there as a group and try to make our way through the town to the piers. On the downside, any alarm will also alert Creedy, who is surely watching and waiting. He may have even put the people below on notice that we might come. I would have if I were him.

Given that those boats are their livelihood, I would have made sure the people thought we were dangerous thieves. We’re going to need a two-pronged approach if we want to increase our chances of making it.

“I have an idea,” I say. I roll the details around in my head while the others stop their whispering. Maddix is leaning heavily on his uninjured leg and the yellow-green of his bruises and swollen nose stand out even in this colorless light. That’s all I need to see to know this is the right approach.

“Maddix, Connor and Cassi. You three can head through the trees and make your way to the boats. Keep quiet and don’t get caught.” As I expected, sounds of disagreement come from four throats so I hold up my hands and say, “Please. Just hear me out first.”

I don’t get anything as positive as agreement, but at least everyone goes quiet and seems ready to listen. I press on, knowing this next part is what is really going to get them going. “Jovan and I are going to track around and find out who's really camped out there. If it’s Creedy, we’ll make sure he can’t come after you if you’re seen. Once you’re there, do what you have to and get across the river. Jovan and I will follow and meet you on the other side.”

The silence that greets my less-than-brilliant plan is telling.

Maddix lets me have it first. “Uh, Karas. That’s just stupid. If we get separated, how will we find each other again? What will you do to Creedy? What if he’s already got a whole crew again like before?” he asks, ticking off points on his fingers to the agreeing nods of the others.

What follows is more like an intense haggling session at the market than making a plan our lives might depend on. In the end, no one gets the exact plan they want, which is probably as good as it gets. At least the most idiotic elements of our various plans have been weeded out.

Jovan and I are going to watch until enough time has passed that the others should be clear and out on the water. If anything happens, we’ll do what we have to. We aren’t specifically going to kill Creedy unless we have to, but secretly I’m hoping there’s a good opportunity to do just that.

With Connor’s slingshot now firmly tucked into Jovan’s pocket and a gun with extra magazines in his utility belt, and my slingshot and all of my good steel balls in my pocket, we’re ready. I don’t bring a gun because I’m completely unproven with one and that makes it more dangerous to me than any other person. Instead, I’ve got one of the big knives from the utility belts tucked into my waistband. Up close and personal, if I need to defend myself, I’m more confident with that.

Maddix and Connor have the other gun but know that they should avoid using it at almost any cost. The silver coins Jovan gives them should be enough to buy passage if they are caught, or the possibility presents itself. None of us are happy about the idea of stealing, but we rationalize it by saying we’ll really only be borrowing it to get to the other side, where it can be recovered.

Jovan and I move closer to where we heard the horses, listening for any sounds that indicate our friends moving toward town have been noted. There’s no change and that’s good, but it’s going to take some time to get through the town if they use caution, so we’re not home-free yet.

The trees are thick here and only broken where the small road runs through it. The branches almost meet in the center, creating a canopy that’s probably beautiful during the day, but just looks ominous now. At least they break up the moonlight and offer us some concealment if we’re forced to cross.

Two huge trees with low spreading branches appear out of the gloom about twenty feet from the edge of the woods and I stop and point to them. Jovan leans his head back and then turns to look in the direction from which we’re hearing the sounds of restless hooves, perhaps figuring out the angles I’ve already decided are good. The road is close, and the thinning of trees ahead of us tell me there is a widening in the road—like those we have in Bailar so that one wagon can pull aside when two meet on a narrow road—and there’s the low orange glow of a fire.

He nods and climbs, his long legs making it look easy after all the practice he’s been getting. Now it’s me that has the harder time of it. For this kind of tree, his height is an advantage. By the time I get up through four levels of branches, I’ve circled the tree. When I look down, the ground is nothing more than a dark blot thirty feet below. It makes me almost dizzy to look, so I swallow and resolve not to do it again.

The higher perspective does what I had hoped and makes the group visible. There are still only four horses so it’s unlikely Creedy found a new crew. A huge pile of bags that must be the fish look like sleeping forms at first, but they are far from the small fire. No one would willingly sleep like that. On the ground like that, I’m surprised they haven’t been under a near constant sneak assault by raccoons or other animals drawn to the smell of the dried fish.

That gives me an idea. The proximity of the horses to the bags means they will startle if there is such a visitation. Perhaps Creedy is using the natural skittishness of horses as a sort of early warning system.

Near the fire, the light flickers on a single person lying on a blanket, but I can’t tell who it is. There’s no sign of the other for long minutes, then I hear the crunch of boots on gravel. Creedy’s form resolves out of the darkness as he approaches the fire and pours a cup of something from a pot. Then he walks slowly and calmly across the road and blends into the shadows.

It’s smart. He can keep watch in both directions, all the way to the main thoroughfare into town, while allowing all the attention to be drawn to the fire and the sleeping man. Had we come upon him while traveling that road or beside it, we might have crossed and tried to pass on his side in the dark, leaving him to intercept us at his leisure.

Jovan is too far from me to allow us to converse, but when Creedy is fully dissolved into the shadows on the other side of the road, I risk a small hiss to get his attention. I see the pale moon of his face turn toward me so I pull up my sleeves so he’ll see my arms. I wave closer and start edging my way around the trunk toward the branch that extends in his direction. When I lower myself to crawl along it in his direction, he seems to understand, hopping with enviable grace to a lower branch and moving to meet me.

We can’t get as close as I would like, but it’s close enough that we can speak in whispers. He’s only a few feet below me but it strikes me that the only time I’ve ever seen him from above, at least up close, was when I was about to harm him back in the Courthouse. A shiver of foreboding runs down my back.

“I think I can hit one of the horses from here with a slingshot. Maybe more than one of them. Get them to bolt,” I say.