Strikers (16 page)

It feels so good to drift and I can feel sleep approaching on little sleepy feet when Jovan whispers, “Sleep well, Karas.”

I do.

The next two days and nights pass much the same but we’re out of fresh food by the time we wake up and get the fire going on the third night. My two tins of grain will only last so long and one of the metal lids on the dried fruit worked its way loose during one walk. All the fruit inside spilled out into my pack and is now covered in a liberal coating of dirt and general ickiness. We’ll have to boil it before we can eat it so the dirt can settle out. That’s what we’re cooking tonight.

I feel much more comfortable with Jordan now. It surprises me how quickly it’s become natural to be around him, to have a father close at hand. We’ve spent hours talking, which often consist of my endless questions and his patient answers.

We’ve also had the chance to really get to know each other. And when I look at him now, I can see myself in him. It’s no longer strange or shocking, just familiar. I have the shape of his fingernails and the same toes. My dark brown hair came from him, but also the little cowlick at the crown of my head. In a hundred tiny ways, I have daily proof that I came from him and I’m growing fond of the reality of having a father, rather than just the idea of it.

As is becoming habit, Jordan smooths a bit of ground and starts drawing the route ahead in the dirt before we set out. He draws much farther than we could ever hope to go in one night, but it makes me feel more secure, more in control, to know what’s ahead. The way everyone pays attention makes it clear that we all feel much the same.

“The river ahead has a pretty big lake that will add almost two days if we have to go around it to the north. Less if we go south, but that’s not a good direction. It’s an easy patrol route. It may be beyond the state line but it’s a smuggling and trade route, so…”

“What do you mean ‘trade’? We don’t do trade that way. We’re embargoed,” Jovan breaks in.

Jordan smiles a knowing smile and says, “Officially, but that doesn’t keep the Army from having a nice little side business using the patrols. Most smugglers aren’t the gentlest sort anyway, but the ones that work with the patrols—well, they should be avoided.”

He lets the statement hang and sink in. I didn’t know this and clearly Jovan didn’t either. He looks like someone just told him there is no Santa Claus. I have a hard time imagining Jovan being happy in the Army now that he’s discovered the truth behind it. Maybe he would have become a Foley the likes of which my father describes, but I don’t think so. This hurts him and I can see it. Disillusionment is practically rolling off him in waves.

Cassi eyes the drawing, then points a stick at the line Jordan’s drawn across the lake. “What about this?”

“Ah, yes. There’s a third option, but it’s risky so it should be a group decision. There used to be a bridge here. It’s long gone, but people still cross there. There are usually rafts tucked away and there’s a guide-line strung along the pylons. But it’s right through the middle, so we’d be seen by anyone who looks in the direction of the lake. The moon is waxing so it’s going to get brighter every night,” he finishes and leans back on his haunches to let us consider.

I have no idea what this trip is like, what the land looks like or anything that might help me contribute to a smart decision. We’ve passed the rain line—though we’ve not yet had any to prove it—and the land is lush with greenery. That makes it strange to me and I’m at a loss as to how to navigate it. Aside from Jordan, no one does except Maddix.

“Maddix, which way did you go on your way out? What route did you two take on the way back?” I ask.

Instead of answering me, he looks away. Jordan jumps in just a little too quickly for him to be doing anything other than covering for Maddix.

“Maddix went south but he made it through with some luck,” Jordan says. He says it just a little too nonchalantly for me to buy it. “When we came back, we took the northern route.”

“Then we should take that way,” I say.

“Wait,” Jovan says. “Why did you take the northern route?” He turns to me and adds, “We should know all the information before we make a decision.”

I smile and motion for him to be my guest. I’m irritated he thought of it and I didn’t.

“Easy answer. There were just two of us but there was a whole group of smugglers pacing us and we had to keep out of sight. They were motor mules. They aren’t necessarily dangerous, but you never know,” he says.

“So, if you hadn’t seen these…what were they again?” Jovan asks.

“Motor mules. There’s a strong market for motor parts, batteries, turbine parts…that sort of thing. But most of that stuff comes from Florida or the East, and they would never sell if they thought it was bound for Texas. Motor mules are just a link in a long chain. They make that trip often, the cargo is high value and they don’t like to be seen. It’s best to avoid them if you can,” Jordan says.

I feel like he’s telling me an adventure story. It’s hard to imagine people smuggling for a living. It must pay a lot of money if that much risk is worth it.

Everyone is quiet. The sound of the pot of dried fruit and grain bubbling over the fire reminds me to stir it. The sweet smell wafts out and causes sniffs in that direction.

Finally, Cassi asks, “Will we get to swim?”

Jovan and I laugh. For one beautiful moment, all is right in the world.

The lake is bigger than the one near Bailar town. Far bigger. As in a whole other species of bigness, bigger. I almost can’t take it in. Luckily, it’s also longer than it is wide or else I can’t imagine how anyone could get across it.

Jordan shushed us into silence before we got close and he still seems hyper-alert, like he’s expecting someone to jump out at us at any time. It’s making me and everyone else nervous along with him. I have a weird twitchy feeling in my stomach that’s normally reserved for bad nights at home with my mom.

There’s a lot of leaf litter and endless old branches scattered on the forest floor. I’m starting to take this immersion in trees for granted, but that doesn’t mean I’ve learned how to walk quietly in them. No one else has either except for Jordan. We’re doing our best, but I know the sharp crackle of leaves and the snap of twigs is making it hard for him to hear anything except our footfalls.

We approach from an angle, well to the north of the old road that leads to the demolished bridge. At least this way, we have a good opportunity to watch the lake during the day while we rest. We’ll also have a shot at finding out if anyone’s hanging around.

It’s already a bright, almost ideal, morning when we get to a suitable spot and make our cold camp. There’s no fire for us this morning, given that it’s already day, and we settle for passing around a water carrier and a few mouthfuls of cold leftover grains and fruit.

My mouth actually hurts when I take that first bite. It’s like all the saliva saved up in my glands comes rushing out at once and strains them or something. It’s a pain and a pleasure all at the same time. This cold mush is absolutely delicious.

Still, it’s gone too soon and it’s not nearly enough for my body. It can’t be enough for anyone’s body. We’ve been on the move for almost a week and I know my pants aren’t just looser because I’ve been wearing them non-stop. I’ve never been rich enough to be fat, or even chunky, but I’m thinning out in ways that aren’t healthy.

Everyone is. Cassi has always had great angles on her face, but her cheekbones are sticking out sharply and she looks especially pale behind her copper colored freckles. Even Jovan seems to be shrinking. He’s a big guy with a lot of muscle, but it won’t last unless we get more food. For the moment, this deprivation is actually making him look better, if that’s possible. I saw him when he changed his shirt and had to be sure my mouth wasn’t hanging open. The muscles in his back and torso stood out in stark relief, the lines no longer smoothed from being well fed. No matter how nice it appears at the moment, I know he must be feeling the effects of our lack of decent meals. Food, and a good long rest afterwards, are what we need to renew our bodies after what we’ve been through.

It’s almost funny because we have the means to get food in plenty if what Jordan says about game in the forest is to be believed. We have three guns and three vests completely full of ammunition, plus a few boxes of ammunition scavenged from the Courthouse. More than enough to spare to shoot something edible. But we dare not use a gun and make noise. The irony of that isn’t lost on me.

I’m not entirely sure I believe the whole plentiful game story, though. I’ve seen tiny birds all over the place, but nothing big enough to be more than a mouthful when plucked. What I would do for a chicken right now is not to be imagined in polite company.

From our vantage point we see a whole lot of nothing all day and I take my turn at watch with Cassi. No smugglers or anything dangerous is a lucky break and we’re due for one of those.

I’ve missed Cassi even though we’ve been within a few feet of each other the whole trip. It’s nice to just talk to her, quietly and honestly, as if we were sitting on her bed in her room with nothing better to do than that.

I’m surprised—and greatly relieved—to find out she really is doing okay. I can’t say she’s fine because none of us are fine, but she’s doing far better than I would have expected. In truth, I’ve been expecting her to tear me a new one as soon as she found the opportunity. I did get her into this, after all, and I’d deserve whatever she might say.

But she doesn’t. Instead, she gives me the full Cassi treatment. Smiles, happy words and lots of overall cheering up. By the time our watch ends and I settle down for a few hours’ sleep, I’m more hopeful than I’ve been since those soldiers walked in and saw us at the Courthouse.

I wake when it’s fully dark and there’s still no fire for cooking or boiling water. Everyone seems antsy and anxious to go. Jordan says he spotted the little inlet where several rafts are drawn up and tied to the stumps of trees, so we know where we’re going. I think he must be nervous since the rafts are tied up. Being stationary means they provide an excellent point to watch for activity. If we decide to cross, a watcher can be sure of seeing us there. It seems like a perfect location for a trap.

The water is placid, flat and shiny in the moonlight. The only ripples are caused by our raft. The lines strung between the pylons of the one-time bridge are right where Jordan said they would be and they work. Between pushing off from the shore with the poles and heaving on the lines once the water grows deeper, we make progress faster than I could have imagined. And best of all, there’s no one to interfere, no shouts or sudden appearances of soldiers shooting at us.

At the far end, we tie up the raft and the poles with care for the next travelers who will need them, but we also take the time to minimize our own footprints just in case. Jordan takes one of the boxes of ammunition and weighs it in his hands, considering. We need to leave something of value—that’s how this system works, the honor system—but we don’t have much in the way of food. Everything else we have is something we desperately need. Except for maybe the couple of shirts I brought and I’m not giving those up.

The ammunition is in another category of value entirely. A full box would be worth more than I could make in the screen-weaving factory if I worked every day for a year. That box Jordan seems to be weighing as a trade seems excessive to me for the use of a wobbly raft and a few poles. Though he told me that ammunition is quite affordable everywhere except Texas—the embargo means that one ingredient is hard to come by there—it’s still a full box that might be needed if worse comes to worst.

Before I can stop myself, I put my hand on top of the box and say, “Really? Why not just give them a gun to shoot us in the back with?”

He starts at my words, then sighs and drops the box back into his sack. “I would have only left one or two cartridges, but you’re right. I hadn’t thought of that. We should leave something that doesn’t advertise who we are. But what? All the money I had is still locked up somewhere at the Courthouse.”

Jovan digs into one of his many pockets and pulls out a coin. It’s a little one, a silver tenth-ounce, what we call a teenth. It’s enough to buy a used coat or a pair of boots with a copper or two in change, but he tosses it with a flick of his thumb toward Jordan, who snatches it out of the air with a grin.

“That’s generous,” he says. “You have anything smaller? Coppers maybe?”

He doesn’t so Jordan leaves the coin in the basket hanging on a post for just that purpose. The lake still looks inviting but also like a huge trap, so we leave and I only look back at it a few times. Regretfully, given all that clean water, but only a little.

Another abandoned town, more of a collection of rundown huts plus one larger building, looks ideal for a temporary hideout. Now that the woods are providing such great cover, we no longer have to hide during the day. We pushed on instead of bedding down and now the day is waning once more. We’ve gotten into a rhythm and for the first time, the mood is good, even though we’re all very tired.

Cassi even jokes that she’s going to hike out for a bath, as if she would really walk all those miles back to the lake. We all laugh but the real cracking up happens when Jovan tells her that’s a good idea and we’d all appreciate it if she took a bath.

The buildings are very old, essentially tinder boxes of old wood, but our three water carriers are full of lake water that needs boiling. In the building we’ve chosen, there’s a hearth of sorts that clearly sees use every so often. A ring of stones has been dug into the dirt under a gap in the roof. Piles of old ashes hint that it’s safe to use.

We set up camp on the first floor, though there is an upper floor in this building. The floorboards on the second floor aren’t very sturdy and there are holes all over our ceiling down below. Still, the walls are intact and the room with the hearth is snug. With the warmth of the fire added in, it’s comfortable.