Warchild: Pawn (The Warchild Series) (10 page)

I don’t want to be in this position.
I want James to say something. I want him to decide. I want someone else to be
in charge.

But it’s not happening.

Will they understand? Will they
still follow Finn and me back to the capitol? Will they protect us from other
clans of Republicons? Will they act like I made the right decision and then
kill us in our sleep?

So many questions I don’t have
answers to, and as much as it pains me to admit it, I can almost understand how
difficult it must have been for Hawkins in his position as General Chief. There
is so much to consider when you’re in charge of so many lives.

We hear a pop of gunfire somewhere
to the north of us, and it’s difficult to tell how far away, but it’s close. Close
enough to make my choice for me.

“Finn and I have to go. It’s the
only way. Stay if you want, but we have to protect the Republic.”

James stares northward with his
fingers hooked through the straps of the packs he’s carrying. His shoulders
droop. He lowers his chin. “Okay,” he mumbles.

“Are you sure?” I understand that
it’s not something a leader should ask, and we’re wasting valuable time by
hesitating, but I don’t want him to make a decision he’ll regret later, not if
it means he’ll eventually change his mind and leave us stranded, or do
something worse.

“I said we’d protect you, and I keep
my word.”

That’s all I need to hear.

CHAPTER ● THIRTEEN

We find Rawley an hour later,
hanging from a tree by his neck, swinging in the wind. James acts like he’s not
angry with me, but I know he is because he won’t look me in the eyes when he
speaks. I’m responsible, because I’m the one that sent Rawley south, but unlike
Hawkins who sent Brandon with me, to his death, I feel regret so overwhelming
that I have to sit down on a fallen oak and cover my face to keep the others
from seeing my tears.

If it hadn’t been Rawley, it
would’ve been one of the others.

James can only guess as to what
happened. The DAV hasn’t made it this far south yet, and according to him,
other groups of Republicons don’t usually do harm to their own kind. They’ll
often meet and trade and raid together.

“Unless…” he says, peering through
the thick growth of forest around us. “Oh, no.”

I wipe my cheeks and stand. “What’s
wrong?”

“We might be in trouble.”

“Why?”

“I think it’s Crockett’s group.” There’s
an audible gasp from the other Republicons. Mumbling and worried faces.

Finn takes a gulp from his water
pouch and swipes at his mouth with a sleeve. “Who’s Crockett?”

James points to his right. “You see
that ridge over there? The one with the three pines on top of it?”

I follow his finger, and, off in the
distance, I see what he’s talking about. Three lone pines stand in an unnatural
clearing. It’s man-made because where we are, in the unpopulated thickness of
the forest around us, someone had to have cut the other trees down on purpose. There
are no nearby towns, no swaths of cleared land where the Elders said tall,
metal towers used to stand, carrying electricity to homes and buildings back in
the Olden Days.

James says, “That’s a territory
marker. We all use them. If you can see one that’s not your own, then you know
you’re on someone else’s grounds. Most of the others don’t mind as long as
you’re just passing through, but not Crockett.”

“And we’re on his land?” I ask. “You
think he killed Rawley?”

“Not he.
She
. You think
we’re
bad? She’s the worst.”

“And you were just going to let us
go through her territory without warning us? What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t know, Caroline. The last
I’d heard, she was raiding a hundred miles west. She must’ve moved in and taken
over.”

“But back at the camp, you said you
came up from the south.”

“Southeast. We were ten miles from
here. There’s no way we could’ve known. We could be on the edge of her grounds
or we could be right in the middle of it. And if that’s the case, then maybe we
can head back north a bit and circle around to the side, but it could delay us
by a day or more.”

“Not with the runners behind us.”

“True. That’s out of one bee’s nest
and into another. If we’re on her land, then we’ll just have to hope she’s out
with a raiding party somewhere so we can cut through as fast as possible.”

“How do we know where her land
starts and ends?”

“Look for another marker.”

“Where?”

James points up the hillside and
behind me. “We can probably see from up there, from the top of that other
ridge. If there’s another one east of here, that’s not good.”

I regret having to waste the time to
look for another marker, especially with the DAV runners not far behind, but we
have to know our options. I almost want there to be another one across the hill
because I’d rather run straight through than waste a day trying to find a safer
way around the edges of Crockett’s territory.

The one they call Squirrel raises
his hand and says, “I’ll go.” He’s small, and if he were any thinner, I’d be
able to see his bones beneath his skin. His two front teeth are big, adding
another layer of appropriateness to his namesake. Squirrel is the fastest one
in their group, and I know he could easily beat me up the hill, but I feel
responsible for what happened to Rawley who’s swaying in the wind overhead.

It’s guilt, more than anything. “I’m
going with you. Finn, help them get Rawley down. We don’t have time to bury
him, but at least cover him with branches. Say a prayer or something.”

I dash up the embankment to my left,
not waiting on Squirrel, and he overtakes me within twenty yards. It’s a waste
of valuable energy trying to match his pace, but I keep up as much as I can,
pumping my arms and driving my legs up, up, and up. Higher up the hillside we
go. Squirrel crests the ridge and stops, waiting on me. By the time I get to
his side, I can already tell that he’s troubled without seeing for myself.

“There,” he says. “Three pines. See
them?”

“Yeah. How far is that?”

“Two miles, as a crow flies. Three
or more if you have to find a place to cross the river.”

“We’ll have to go straight through
then, won’t we?”

“Looks that way. Faster.”

I put my hands behind my head,
opening up my lungs like Brandon said. “How far south do we have to go? To get
through, I mean.”

“I can’t see a southern marker from
here. The trees are in the way. Maybe if I got higher…” Squirrel darts over to
a white pine with low hanging limbs and begins to scurry up it. He’s fast and
nimble, jumping, swinging, climbing from branch to branch, and now I understand
how he got his name. He slips on a wet limb and nearly tumbles, but regardless
of how much of a weakling he appears to be, his hands are strong, and he
manages to hold on.

Squirrel swings, plants a boot on a
sturdier limb, and continues the ascent. Seconds later, he’s close to the top
and shouts down to me, “I see it. Dead south.”

“Is it far?”

“Not much. Maybe a two-hour run. It’s
not as far as—”

He goes silent. I step back from the
pine and angle my head upward, shielding my eyes from the rain, trying to get a
better look at him.

“Squirrel? Did you see—”

“Run!”

It takes too long to register in my
mind, what he’s trying to tell me. I ask without reacting. “Run? Why?” I crane my
neck further back, trying to see him, trying to see what’s gotten him into a
panic. I’m looking up, when I should’ve been looking behind me. I watch as
Squirrel scrambles around to the back of the pine trunk like he’s hiding from
something. Real squirrels do the same trick.

A flash of orange catches my eye in
the canopy above and then I know.

Three arrows zip overhead. I quickly
look away from Squirrel, searching for their origin, and spot three Republicon
men twenty yards north, left arms out, holding their bows. Above, the
thunk-thunk-thunk
of arrows finding their mark cascades down as Squirrel shrieks and lets go.

He falls. I scream, “No!” and watch
him crashing off the branches, bouncing from one to the next until he comes to
a stop on one of the larger bottom limbs, hanging limply over it like damp
clothing after Sunday’s wash.

There’s laughter behind me. A woman.

I whirl around and see a group of
Republicons, similar to our friends, with their arms crossed and smiles
revealing rows of yellow and brown teeth. They stand with their legs parted,
forming a line, and out in front of them a woman with dark black hair and a
big, hooked nose begins to clap.

The three archers join us, and if my
eyes could shoot fire, those men would burn like dry wood.

“Best shots for a hundred miles,”
she says, strolling confidently toward me. “No use in running, little girl. They’re
even better when the target’s moving.”

I back away from her and think about
screaming down the hill for Finn and James. I don’t. That’ll send arrows into
my chest if I do. I can only hope that they heard Squirrel’s screaming and are
on their way.

“What’re you doing in my woods?”

Maybe I can reason with her. Maybe
if I explain what’s happening up north, she won’t kill me. “Are you…are you
Crockett?”

She lays an arm across her stomach
and bows deeply. “You know who I am, then you know better than to come into
my
woods, so I’ll ask you again, what’re you doing here?”

“Trying to get back to the capitol.”

“You’re one of them.”

My words fumble out of my mouth. “I
am, but the DAV army is coming right through here. It’s war, ma’am. War is
coming.”

She raises an eyebrow and grunts. “
War
,
you say?”

“Do you know James? He’s—he’s one of
you.”

“James? I might, I might not. But
you said
war
.” Crockett glares at me.

“The DAV army is marching south, and
they’ll be through by tomorrow, maybe the next day. They have some forward runners,
too, and it won’t be long before they’re here. I’m sorry we’re on your land,
but I can tell you this, it won’t be yours anymore, not when they come.”

Challenging her ownership of the
land wasn’t the best thing to say, and I learn this when she grabs my neck and
pulls my face close to hers. The stench of her rotting breath and sweaty,
rain-soaked clothes is enough to make me cringe. Even her hair smells awful,
like she’s been washing it with bear droppings, which wouldn’t surprise me if
it were true. The more you can hide your human scent in the forest, the easier
it is to hunt—whether it’s human or animal.

Crockett says, “Ain’t nobody taking
nothing from me, little girl.”

“Do you know how to count?”

“What?”

“Can you count? One, two, three,
four…”

“You saying I can’t count?” She
shoves my face, and I stumble backward, but I keep my balance. I clench my
fists, ready to swing if she comes closer, and then relax. There are men with
arrows all around me. Grandfather always said that fights are better won with
words than weapons. Then again, I don’t think he’d ever been on the front side
of a war.

James, Finn, and the rest aren’t
coming.

“Do you know how many men make up
five hundred?”

“It’s a lot, I know that much.”

“How about ten thousand?”

“Are you trying to call me stupid?”

“The DAV soldiers will roll right
over everything in their path. Five hundred men will be swarming through these
woods by this time tomorrow, maybe sooner—right through the middle of
your
land—and that’s
before
the main army gets here. I don’t care how evil
James says you are, you don’t have enough arrows to fight them. I can tell you
this: you aren’t the worst thing in these woods anymore.”

Behind me, in the tree, I hear
Squirrel groan and cough. He’s alive. I risk taking my eyes off Crockett, long
enough to take a peek at him. Two arrows protrude from his right leg and a
third sticks out of his far shoulder. They’re cracked and broken from banging
against the limbs as he fell, but he’s not dead.

Crockett’s men aren’t as good as she
claimed and for that, I’m thankful.

But he’s wounded, and won’t be able
to run on his own.

She says, “You telling me the truth,
little girl? Because so help me, if you’re lying, I’ll bury you so far that
animals won’t be able to dig up your bones.”

“Yes, they’re coming. They murdered
my friend and almost everyone in my encampment. I saw them with my own eyes.”

“What’re they coming down south for?
Ain’t much around here they’d want.”

“No, there’s plenty. They’re coming
for us.”

“Who?”

“The people.”

“What for?”

“I don’t have time to explain—”

Crockett grabs my arm and yanks me
to her side. “I said what for?” she growls, demanding an answer.

“Workers.
Slaves
. And unless
you want to spend the rest of your lives in chains, you can either run, or you
can come with us.”

“We don’t congregate much with
others—that’s not how I like to run things. Whose in charge of your clan?”

“I am.”

“You?” Crockett cackles and tightens
her grip around my arm. “Who listens to a little girl like you?”

“I do,” says a voice from behind a
nearby tree, and then James slinks out to the side.

“So do I,” says another, and Finn
moves around from the trunk of a large mountain maple.

It’s followed by a chorus of, “I do,
too” and, “Me, too” as the rest of my Republicon friends appear from the
shadows. Their bows are drawn back and trained on Crockett’s gang.

She reacts to the danger by pulling
me in front of her as a shield.

I can feel the strange warmth in my
arms and legs again as I latch onto the arm she has around my neck. I pivot,
pull, and swing, easily tossing her ten feet into the center of the two
opposing groups.

They’re all shocked, amazed, and
bewildered.

Crockett sits up from where she
landed, holding her ribs. She’s dumbfounded, too, that someone my age and size
could do such a thing, but I can tell that she doesn’t even know the right
questions to ask. “How’d you do that?”