Project - 16 (30 page)

“
There were some droppings that way,” I replied, indicating
with my spoon. “We've only got the two rounds though.”

“
Yeah, that's enough for me,” she replied, winking.

I finished my food and together we went back out into the
cold, leaving the fire roaring to guide us back later on. Riley had
the rifle in her hands and I carried my knife and pack, walking
quickly to the place I'd seen the droppings, then slowing to almost
a crawl as we began to search the woods for our next
kill.

It didn't take long. We were prowling in the ever falling
snow, heading a little to the east and following a single print
that had survived the last flurry. The snow was reflecting the
fading embers of the evening sun into our eyes and I could feel the
strain of squinting taking its toll. Riley, somehow managing to
wear her sunglasses, moved off to my left as I indicated a clearing
near to the waters edge. From where we were I could hear the fast
running stream and the sound of something cracking the thin layer
of ice on its surface. I pointed in its direction and Riley raised
her rifle, moving slowly and effortlessly across the
snow.

The deer were drinking in the waning light, lapping at the
cold water and they failed to notice Riley move into position. Just
as she let out the breath she was holding, there was a sound to my
right and I turned my head in time to see something emerging from
the trees. It was shuffling on all fours - a great shambling shape
that was heading straight for the stream.

I couldn't warn Riley for fear of alarming the thing but I
saw that her head had turned from the rifle scope and was staring
at the enormous form of the brown bear that came walking into the
clearing, ambling its way across the snow to start drinking at the
waters edge. The only reaction the deer had to the great furry
stranger was a shuffling away from the stream to drink a little
further up.

It was the most terrifying and fascinating moment I'd had out
in the wilds and it looked like Riley was thinking the same thing
as she settled on her haunches and watched the giant beast wade
peacefully into the stream. There was a broad smile on her
face.

Soon the bear had moved further down the stream and was lost
to us but the image remained in my head all the way back to our
shelter.

“
Wow,” was all Riley could say as she sat down on the tarp,
standing the unused rifle against the wall.

“
What a creature!” I replied, adding more wood to the fire.
“He cost us our tea though.”

“
I couldn't shoot him, he was too beautiful and peaceful. Did
you see how he moved? Do you think he saw us?”

“
I think he knew we were there but the chances of him ever
meeting a human before now, let alone a hostile one are pretty
slim. He wouldn't have seen us as a threat.”

“
Fucking awesome,” said Riley. “At least we know there are
deer there if your snares don't work out.”

“
Let's just hope they do or we'll be hungry in the
morning.”

Thankfully we weren't and the snares had caught two meaty
looking rabbits for us to cook over the fire before we set off. It
was easier to eat as much as we could rather than try and keep some
for later. I was confident that we'd be able to hunt for more and
at worst we only had five days or possibly even less to walk before
we reached the bunker. I tried not to think about what was going to
happen after that.

We left the park and resumed the trail that led us further
south. It was easier going and Riley was able to walk a little bit
faster, though I warned her not to risk tearing open the wound
again now that the stitches were gone.

"We're so fragile," she said. "If you think about it. It's
amazing we've lasted this long."

"You must have seen some wounds in your time."

"Kind of. You always saw a bullet wound or a laceration but
thankfully the serious stuff never seemed to happen around
me."

"You don't think bullet wounds are serious?" I
asked.

"Hey, when you're in the Army you see that many it just
becomes the norm. You're like 'hey, you've been shot, big deal'. If
it doesn't kill you it just becomes an excuse for everyone to make
fun of you."

"Have you ever been shot?"

"Duh - yeah! Here, take a look." She rolled up her sleeve and
proudly displayed a jagged circular scar in her right forearm.
"Bullet passed straight through the muscle and out the other side.
Took a while to heal but the guys never let me forget it.
Thankfully it was only a small calibre round or I could've lost my
arm. In my unit we had two guys who'd taken a bullet in the ass and
one who'd been shot right through his balls. He was fucking lucky -
the round went through the sack and out the other side when he was
crouching behind cover. Boy did that guy suffer when he came back
to active service. What about you? I don't suppose you get shot
much out here on your own."

"You'd be surprised," I said. I rolled back my own sleeve and
showed her the mess a dog had made of my forearm.

"Holy shit!' she said, running her fingers over the hard,
lumpy scar tissue. "What the fuck did that?"

"We were tracking someone through Leeds city centre when we
were ambushed by a pack. We made it to the top of a flight of
stairs in some office block that was ready to collapse, but before
we could shut a door behind us one of them burst through and
clamped itself to my arm."

"I bet you were shitting your pants," said Riley.

"I was more concerned about what I'd catch from its bite. Dad
clubbed it to death but by then it'd taken a lump out of me. He
patched me up as best he could and as soon as we got back he
radio'd in a US medic to take a look. If it hadn't been for that we
probably wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Fuck."

"It was first time I'd actually seen my Dad worry. When he
saw my arm I could tell he was as scared as I was - maybe even more
so. Normally nothing could upset him, he always had a positive
outlook no matter how bad things got."

"He was scared for you. Scared he'd lose you."

"Yeah, but it was also the fact that he wasn't in control. He
couldn't decide the outcome. You see, it was one of the most
important things in his life - being in control."

"What, like a dictator or something?"

"No, not in a bad way. He always had a word - autonomy - that
he would hammer home to the soldiers he was teaching, and to me
when I was growing up. He was proud of the fact that he didn't have
to rely on other people, that he was his own man. Does that make
sense?"

"Yeah, it does. I feel the same way. It's easy to get carried
along by other people, to just follow the crowd and depend on
others to bail you out. I always wanted to be Captain of my own
ship," she said.

"You'd have liked my Dad then. I think that when the dog
tried to have me for lunch he had to come face to face with a
situation that was new to him - one that he wasn't in control of.
He knew at that point that he couldn't fix me. He couldn't stop
this kind of infection with his own skills. Now he had to rely on
someone else and I think it shook him to the core."

"He probably realised that he couldn't always save you,
either. That one day he wouldn't be there to protect you, his baby
boy."

"Yeah," I said, feeling the weight of that. "You're right
there. That's exactly what he said to me when he was
dying."

We walked through small villages without much incident and we
stopped by a gaping hole in the ground where a sewer system had
caved in on itself. It looked like a giant tear in the road and ran
for half a mile, west to east, but thankfully I'd led us to its
eastern edge so we could cross it safely.

“
There are loads of these around,” I said, pointing down into
the chasm. “That's why I hate driving. I have nightmares about
speeding head-long into one of them.”

“
I can see why,” said Riley taking a long pull from her water
bottle.

“
We'll break off to the right soon and go across the motorway.
It's quicker than going through the town and safer too.”

“
Then what?”

“
More fields, more villages and then the bunker. Another few
days yet.”

“
I didn't realise how hard this would be,” she said. “I
thought it'd be a physical thing - like running a race or
something. But it isn't, is it? It's all about your mind and
keeping yourself from wanting to quit. The body doesn't really
speak as loud as my bored fucking brain.”

“
Yeah, I tried to teach my classes that. The only way they'd
learn was to get out there and do a three or four day walking trip.
Then it got to them. Their exercise didn't train them for it in
that way.”

“
I can believe it.”

I was in that zone myself at that point - wanting to quit and
take her home. I thought it might have passed by now but it hadn't.
Every time I looked at her I felt like turning and heading back -
back to a warm bed and a roaring fire in the hearth. To nights
curled up with a glass of wine on the settee or whatever couples
did when they lived alone in the woods. I didn't really know what
that looked like yet but it had to be better than risking our lives
to find two people who were more than likely dead now. But that was
where years out in the wilds paid off. I was able to turn it down,
to force those whispers into the back of my mind and focus on
finding the people that had families back home, that had people who
cared about them, and their only chance of knowing anything rested
on our shoulders.

Riley gazed across the landscape and sighed. Then she looked
at me and tried to smile but it was forced.

“
Let's keep going,” I said. “Then we can curl up by a fire and
sleep.”

“
It's fucking tough, Miller,” she said, shouldering the rifle.
“Tougher than Ranger training, maybe tougher than anything I’ve
known.”

“
It's not finished yet,” I replied.

“
Yeah, ain't that the truth. Then we have to walk back.
Great.”

I set off and held my hand out for her. She caught up and
took it, pulling me close to her side so she could lay her head on
my shoulder for a moment.

“
We can do it,” she said in that lilting accent. “Then we can
go home.”

“
Got it in one,” I said.

We pushed on through the next few difficult days. I could
remember times I'd been out in the wilds for a few weeks but now
that I'd got a reason to go home, now that there was something more
than just hunting trespassing kids, each day got harder and harder
to cope with. I don't think it helped that we both believed our
mission was a waste of time now, that being attacked earlier by
people we'd thought were on our side had now taken the stuffing out
of us and we lapsed into long periods of silence as the last few
miles went by under our boots.

11.

It was only when we began to hear the far off sounds of
machinery and the glow of artificial lighting in the evening haze
that we felt the urgency to find out what had become of Alex and
Saska once more.

“
How far are we from the entrance?” asked Riley.

“
A mile, maybe two. Half an hours walk that way,” I said,
pointing towards a hill in the distance beyond the forgotten
skeleton of a farm house. “I think it's there - from the best
understanding of Dad's notes I can muster.”

“
Well it looks like the sound is coming from half a click east
and that's where the lights are too. We should find somewhere to
lay up and use the night to our advantage, maybe investigate after
dark.”

“
Sounds like a plan,” I said. “I've got us here but now it's
your turn. This is your field.”

“
I thought you'd say that. The thing is...”

“
What?” I asked.

“
It's been bothering me since that patrol was sent out to make
sure I was dead.”

“
What has?”

“
They sent kids. And they sent them days after the
event.”

“
I thought it was odd too but what conclusions did you come
to?”

“
I have a couple and I don't like either.” I indicated the
farmhouse and we began walking towards it. “It wasn't just unusual
- it was downright fucking sloppy. They sent nobodies to track me
down in case I'd survived, days after the fact. Yeah?”

“
Yeah.”

“
Which tells me that Corban, or someone, expected me to have
lived and sent kids to be captured and interrogated in order to
throw us off the scent, to give us false information.”

“
Possibly,” I said.

“
And by killing them and making it look like an accident,
they'd know I was alive and had gotten the message.”

“
So the helicopter pilot would have taken the information
back. I'm with you so far. How does this change things?”

“
I don't know. I was taught to plan for what my enemy could
do, not what he might do so I don't want to entertain too many
theories. NSU?”