The men navigated the large rocks in their path with ease, but Lottie was already drenched in sweat and dirt—turned mud—from having to practically crawl up some of the stones. Her arms ached and her knees felt like they would give out at any moment. She was so hungry. Her belly growled so hard she thought she would vomit from the pain of the acid gnawing at her stomach. Lottie could ask for a travel ration, she knew, but she didn’t want to. She clenched her jaw in frustration and reached above her head to help haul herself up the most recent boulder in her way.

One benefit to scrabbling around on the forest floor was none of the men paid attention to her hands anymore. Lottie grabbed a few small round stones for her sling each time she thought she could get away without the collection being noticed. She had about six stones in her pocket. The next time an opportunity presented itself, she was going to kill a squirrel or rabbit for her dinner. She could provide for herself, thank you very much.

Once at the top of the boulder path, she paused and put her hands on the small of her back and tried to stretch. She had a pulled muscle in her mid-back and it was making the hike difficult.

Lottie wiped sweat from her forehead and eyes. The cool of early morning had long since burned away, and the only reason she wasn’t dying of heat already, was because the trees provided abundant shade. No denying it, though, she was hot, dusty, and tired. Lottie took a swig from her canteen.

“Halt,” Casey’s detached voice sounded from behind her. “We’ll break for lunch here.”

Lottie barely suppressed her sigh of relief. She slid the pack off her shoulders and walked toward a log that looked high enough for her to sit on without too much difficulty getting down—and later—up. She eased her body onto it with a groan. Her legs were twitching and it felt good to sit down.

She rested her elbows on her knees and let her head hang forward. Lottie watched as the drops of sweat dripped off her temples and splash on the ground. The patterns created on the dry dirt fascinated her, and she lost herself to imagining animal shapes within the water blots.

When she looked up again, Casey was staring at her. He held up some jerky and raised an eyebrow in silent question. Lottie shook her head, no she didn’t want his help, but she was rapidly coming to the conclusion she would have to accept his assistance soon. Casey shrugged and took a bite of the dried meat and walked toward Javier and Paul. Lottie slumped forward. Her stomach growled again. The urge to eat his food was strong. Only her stubborn desire to stay self-sufficient kept her from accepting.

The men sat and talked amongst themselves, all the while leaving her alone with her thoughts, but they were far from inattentive. Every time she shifted, four set of eyes would focus on her. Lincoln, Paul, and Jaesen would resume their banter immediately, but Casey would study her for a few minutes. Almost like he expected her to make a run for it at any moment. Lottie snorted to herself. At her speed, she would be caught before she stood up. No, if she were to escape, success would only come at night. Probably not tonight, though. Casey knew her every movement. It would take a few days—maybe a week—to lull him into a false sense of security about her desire to run.

Her breathing was just coming under control, and her legs were no longer protesting, when the men stood. The break hadn’t been long, but too much longer and her muscles would cool to the point she’d hurt worse when they started again. So it was with relief that Lottie struggled to her feet after them.

“I’ll catch up to you,” Paul spoke, loud enough for her to hear. “I have to water some bushes.”

“You got her?” Javier asked.

Casey answered with the smallest of inclination of his head in a nod.

“Good. If you need, I’ll watch her when I get back.”

The three men moved off into the woods in different directions before stopping. She could still see them with their backs to her, and she flushed. She wondered why men didn’t require more privacy when they urinated. It had been difficult enough to pee with Casey a few feet from her this morning and he’d stayed out of her line of sight.

“You suffering from the same issue?”

Her cheeks reddened further.

“Don’t go far, but now would be the time to take care of that,” he added.

Lottie nodded and turned away from him. She would take this moment to do the same and maybe even kill a squirrel. She heard a few scampering about in the trees behind her.

She hid behind a tree and did her business quickly. The men were laughing in the clearing behind her, and she deemed it safe to make a hunting attempt. She slipped the sling out of her pocket and dropped a stone into the pouch. It took two full rotations before she’d built up enough force to let the stone fly. With a quick practiced motion, she let the strap loose and the stone flew true. Lottie was lowering her arm, ready to get her dead squirrel, when a hand gripped her wrist. Before she even registered the threat, the sling was plucked from her grasp.

“I wondered how you kept from starving when Paul said you had no other weapons. We just hadn’t searched the right place.”

Lottie turned to face him, desperation making her speak, “Give it back.”

Casey lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe. Leave the squirrel,” he answered. He twitched his head in a slight “go back there” motion.

She glanced at her dead squirrel with longing, leaving it behind meant she would have to accept his help. Lottie couldn’t feed herself if she couldn’t hunt for her food.

With a sigh, she abandoned her kill and walked back to the clearing. Casey followed after her and in less than a minute later she stepped from the thicker trees to where the rest of his team waited.

“Paul? Jaesen? Go on ahead. I leave it to you to figure out where to put chica, here.” Casey paused, “On second thought, set up a bedroll for her in my tent.”

Without turning around, she could only imagine the lustful gleam his expression must hold and she barely suppressed a shudder of revulsion.

Paul smiled. “Will do Case.” He turned to Jaesen who was at the edge of the clearing. “Let’s go.”

Casey stepped around her, to watch Paul and Jaesen’s back as they moved away through the woods. “We’re going to the wash point upriver,” Casey told Javier when he joined him. Turning back to her, he said, “You look like you could use a soak, and frankly, you smell.” Javier smirked. “No offense,” Casey continued. “I figured you’d rather take a few moments before we arrive—and without all the extra eyes.” Casey eyed her. “I have... there are others at base.”

“Any of them... women?” she choked out.

He shook his head no.

“How many?”

“Full squad.”

Lottie paled. Fourteen men. She took a shaky step back. Her mind racing through her recently formed escape possibilities. Each scenario ended with her caught and brought back. How would she ever evade a squad of elite soldiers? Eluding five drifters had taken weeks that first time she escaped.

The blood rushed in her ears, and the world grew black around the edges of her vision. She barely registered Lincoln’s “She’s going down.” before the trees tilted on their sides and a warm calloused hand gripped her upper arm, holding her up.

“Sit,” Casey commanded.

That was a certainty. Lottie’s legs no longer held her weight and she plopped onto the log. She didn’t remember Casey guiding her to it.

“Put your head down and breathe slowly.”

“I know how not to faint,” Lottie ground out, but complied with his order anyway.

Fourteen?

Lottie knew she was about to cry. There was no chance she’d get away. She tilted her head and looked up at him. Her vision cloudy with tears. “There is no chance at all you are going to let me go, is there?”

“Nope.”

“Are you going to take me back to St. Louis?”

“That’s the plan.”

Lottie struggled to swallow past the lump in her throat, and she felt a tear slide down her cheek. “I need a moment. Please,” her voice cracked. “Can I be by myself?”

“No,” he answered. “But I’ll wait over there for a few minutes.” He turned and walked towards Lincoln and they stood talking while she cried.

She couldn’t go back. The terms of the draft were clear. She would deliver and they would take her baby away. Lottie loved the life she carried, even if it meant ignoring the memory of how she came to be pregnant. She refused to let the government take her baby. Living on her own in the wilderness was preferable to giving it up to the communal homes. She just had to find a way to escape.

The log settled as a weight dropped onto it, and Lottie looked at Casey who’d just joined her. He handed her a travel ration.

“Eat,” he ordered. “You are hungry and tired.”

She took the food from him and bit into it. It was just as dry and unpalatable as the last one she ate.

“We’ll get you cleaned up and settled in at camp. Then after a good night’s rest, I’m sure you will feel better.”

She hung her head and sniffed. Of course, he’d think that. He wouldn’t carry a life for nine months and then have to give it away, to watch it grow up in the communal home, never allowed to acknowledge it as hers. Lottie swallowed past the newly formed tears. “All right. Let’s go.”