Casey forced his fingers to relax, as he yet again questioned whether or not he should have deployed this morning. In an attempt to be fair, he kept himself on the camp rotation roster, but he didn’t have to. He could have ordered someone else to take his place. Maybe I should have stayed at camp. His thoughts were uncharacteristically tangled, wondering if Bean was all right. She didn’t seem to be. His worry for the young woman gnawed in his belly.
He’d gone into his tent after completing his early watch to change clothes before his patrol, and she’d not stirred. Usually, she slept lightly, but she had slept through his arrival. He was so surprised that he spent several minutes watching her sleep, his apprehension growing. Each whimper and clutch of her hand made him more concerned.
Something was wrong. And he wanted to be back at camp to keep an eye on her.
Javier pointed to a print on the ground, drawing Casey’s attention away from his worry for the woman. He grunted in acknowledgment. He’d seen it already. The footprint fit with what he remembered of the tread and size of the boot of the man they had tracked last week. And it was just one more thing to worry about.
Casey ran a hand through his hair. Noah.
The problem was they were standing in shelter two, northwest of the camp. Last week, they'd found the first print east of the camp and north of shelter four.
If this was truly Noah again, he had an impressive range.
“We ‘oin’ to follow ‘em?” Javier asked, his question slurred due to the hand rolled cigarette clamped between his lips. Some ash shook free and fell to the ground as he spoke.
Casey stifled the urge to rip it out of Javier’s mouth. “Yes.”
“What are you going to do if you catch ‘im this time?”
Good question, Casey thought. He wanted to confirm there was only one of them. A lone man in the woods wasn’t a threat, but a band of men could cause him problems. And then there was that little niggling thought, what if it was special ops sent to check up on him. It had been known to happen in the past. Staff Sergeant Kerner regularly had rangers tracking him. If Noah was a ranger and was watching him…
Casey dismissed the thought. If that had been the case, he would have already been recalled to St. Louis to account for his actions.
“Determine why he is so close to camp,” Casey finally answered.
“Free food?”
“The vegetable gardens are untouched,” Casey retorted. “Tristan does a regular head count on the chickens and they’re all accounted for, so if he’s stealing food, it isn’t from us.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want my rations cut short.”
A snort of laughter escaped Casey’s lips even though he tried to suppress it. He’d seen Javier hunt before. He was an ace with a gun. Javier wouldn’t go hungry anytime soon.
Despite Casey’s initial misgivings—and the occasional fights Javier instigated—he was proving to be an excellent soldier: methodical and meticulous. He could be a valuable member of the team if he stopped pushing people's buttons.
“Take point. Prove you can track,” Casey ordered with a smirk. An easy task.
“Sure, sarge,” Javier joked and saluted.
Dropping the act, he started his inspection of the land around them. After a few minutes, he’d found the next clue and led Casey along the trail. They followed after the man, each taking turns tracking. The prints were spaced in such a way that they knew where to go, but yet infrequent enough that Casey and Javier had to work for that knowledge. Last week, Noah’s trail was just like this, and Casey was sure they were following the same man.
As the miles started to slip by, Casey wondered at Noah’s game. Why use the shelters at all? It was obvious that the man they were following could survive off the land and didn’t need to use the decoy buildings as shelter. It didn’t make sense.
“Is this a test?” Javier’s question startled him from his musings, and Casey stopped walking.
“No,” Casey answered. Time to quit trailing.
“Good. Otherwise, the high an’ mighty Case’s tracking skills need work,” Javier drawled. “Felt I had to ask to make sure, though. Were you going to march all the way to KC today?” Javier grinned. “I didn’t plan on visiting that hellhole anytime soon.”
With effort, Casey ignored the slur against his communal home’s town. Kansas City wasn’t any worse than St. Louis if you compared amenities, but the streets were rougher there. Less military police to keep the soldiers in line.
“We’re too far from camp again. Let’s go back to shelter two.” Casey took a moment to get his bearings—it was harder to do so in the woods. He turned and headed back at a jog. His sense of unease was growing.
Javier didn’t comment, only matched his pace as they ran. In less than half an hour, shelter two came into view, and they slowed to a walk. “Do a clockwise sweep,” he ordered Javier. “I’ll take this side, and when you’re done we’ll head to five. We’ll stay there tonight.”
Impressive, Casey noted as Javier blended into the trees and undergrowth. He was proving to be a very competent soldier. Not really a surprise. His deployment papers had said as much. It was Javier’s mouth and attitude that kept getting him in trouble with his commanding officers, and not his skills.
He shook thoughts of Javier from his head and studied the building in front of him. What kept drawing Noah to the decoys? There had to be a reason other than to get Casey’s attention.
Something rustled in the breeze. A leaf? No, a paper, and it wasn’t part of the dilapidated decor of the shelter. It was tacked to the partial wall in building two. He strode toward it, hopped up and walked inside. Casey pulled the paper from the wall.
Watch out for that filly. The colts think they are stallions. Noah
What the hell does that mean? Casey assumed the “filly” was the evader, but who were the colts? Casey felt the blood drain from his face as the significance of the word “filly” registered.
He took a deep breath. The note made it clear. Noah was watching them. And what was worse? No one had encountered Noah’s prints anywhere close to camp. Casey needed to rethink his first assessment. The man was clearly a threat.
The shelter floor shook, and he turned to look at Javier as he joined him. Glancing over Casey’s shoulder, he read the note. “Interesting.”
“No kidding,” Casey replied, again looking at the note in his hand. He kept his voice carefully neutral. “I’m going to need to step up the perimeter watches.” I want to find out why he’s stalking my camp.
Javier grunted in acknowledgment or was that irritation.
“What? Too much work for you?” he asked, wanting to know how much trouble Javier would end up being if he increased his perimeter guard.
“Me? No. I’m here to do a job.”
It was Casey’s turn to grunt in agreement and irritation. He had to concede that point. Although Javier wasn’t motivated—not like Casey—he didn’t shirk his duties like some on the team tried to do. “Too much work for others?” he asked, half joking.
Again Javier grunted in acknowledgment.
That grunt… It was too much like an admission of guilt. Casey lifted his eyes from the note to pin Javier with a gaze. “What do you know?”
“Not much,” Javier remarked.
“Not much?”
“Yeah.”
“But you know something,” Casey said. His voice trailing off.
Javier shrugged.
Casey stifled his sigh and kept his jaw loose. “And?”
“I know that Ethan’s been pushing.”
Worse than the other newbies? Casey wasn’t sure he agreed. All of the younger soldiers pushed some until they learned their place and settled into a routine. “At least he hasn’t started any fist fights yet,” Casey pointed out, unable to hide his irritation. He was speaking with the worst offender of that crime.
“This is more than finding a guy’s hot spot and exploiting it,” Javier responded, his tone bland. “He’s collecting supporters.”
Supporters? It was time to change the roster again, to keep any clique from forming. “For what?”
“Surprisingly, he hasn’t approached me about it,” Javier replied. With a sweep of his hand, he added, “I’m too closely associated with you. But, I’d keep that piece of ass close.”
Bean?
Before Javier could anticipate the move, Casey turned and fisted Javier’s shirt in his hand. His forearm across Javier’s chest. He shoved Javier against the wall of the shelter, keeping him pinned there.
Javier slowly lifted his eyebrow, but made no effort to counter him.
“What are you planning?” Casey asked him.
“Me? Nothing.” Javier smirked. “I’ve always said you should pay for services rendered. Not everyone agrees.”
The word “service” so closely tied to the evader in his camp conjured up unpleasant images. Casey didn’t like the conclusion he was drawing.
He pulled Javier far enough away from the wall to slam him against it again. He heard Javier’s teeth rattle. “Drop the game and explain. And don’t lie to me.”
“Rape,” Javier answered. The humor draining from his expression. “They plan to take ‘payment’ for the double shifts.”
Casey cursed. “When?”
“When you’re on patrol.”
Was this why he had felt uneasy all day? Casey looked into the middle distance, calculating how fast he could get back to camp.
“Relax,” Javier said to him calmly, as if he wasn’t pinned to the wall. “They’ll wait until after she delivers.”
When Javier spoke Casey focused on him again. Javier’s statement settled one issue. He would adjust schedules immediately after getting back to camp. Take himself and the girl off standard rotation. He would keep watch on her for the remainder of her pregnancy, and then after.
Casey glanced at his clenched hand still fisting Javier’s shirt, and he forced his fingers to let go. He took a step away from him.
“I wondered what it would take.” Javier smirked as he pulled himself from the wall and rolled his shoulders, settling his shirt. “I should have known a threat to the evader would get to you.”
He declined to answer. Javier was right. Casey had played right into his verbal trap.
“Nothing outside of your job seems to rile you up—well except for the cigs. You are a boring man to play with,” Javier said with a chuckle.
Casey grunted and looked out into the woods. Something still felt wrong. He tried to ignore his growing discomfort. Turning back to business, he asked, “You know the way to five?”
“About seven miles south and west of here,” Javier answered.
“It’s a long walk and hilly. The distance plus an area scan will take the rest of the day.” Casey jumped down and stepped away from the shelter. “Let’s go,” he said before moving off into the woods.
He heard Javier light a cigarette, then a crunch of leaves as he left the shelter. Casey gritted his teeth but didn’t say anything to him about it. He’d already lashed out once today, and chastising him again would only highlight just how worried he really was about the girl, Noah, and his men back at camp.
They were less than a quarter mile from shelter two when a shrill whistle rent the air. The sound came from the decoy residence behind them. Casey stopped and looked at Javier. He returned the glance. To Casey’s surprise, there was worry visible in his gaze. He knew his expression had to mirror Javier’s.
What happened that would bring someone out of the camp to find them?
As one, they turned and jogged back to the building, and within moments it was in sight. Paul was bent at the waist, resting his hands on his thighs. Due to Paul’s posture, Casey assumed he’d just thrown up or was about to. Paul stood and looked in their direction when he heard them. He was breathing hard, and relief clear in his expression. His mouth forming the words, “You’re here.” Casey assumed that is what he said. He wasn’t close enough to actually hear the words.
While he walked toward Paul, Casey took note of the bruise blackening his eye, and the way he held his ribs. Something more than a side stitch made him wince with each breath.
“You didn’t break a rib did you?”
Paul shook his head. “No, just a lucky punch,” he said and winced. His hand going to and touching the lip Casey noticed was split.
“You have to get back to camp.” Each word was punctuated by a sharp breath in, and a rushed exhale.
“Did you run the whole way?”
“As much as I was able. Still took too long,” he replied, panting. “But that doesn’t matter. I can rest here a bit before heading back.” He paused to take a few deep breaths. “You need to go. Now.”
“Explain what happened.” It wouldn’t do for him to go rushing back without knowing what he was facing. Clearly, there had been a fight, and he needed to know details.
“The girl,” Paul began.
Casey thought his heart would stop. Who attacked Bean?
“She’s in labor. Lincoln sent seven of us out. One for each shelter. Hoping to catch you at one of them,” Paul continued.
Shit.
It would take a few hours to get back to camp. Casey suppressed the urge to turn on his heel and run back at a full sprint. He was relieved that no one had harmed her… yet. He stared at Paul. “If the problem is the evader, why did you fight?”
Paul dropped his gaze, unwilling to challenge Casey’s authority but not quite contrite. Whatever the fight had been about, Paul felt justified in his part of it. “Ethan was baiting Tristan.”
It had to be about the evader. Tristan was too laid back, too hard to anger about anything else. Well except for his chickens. That man was too attached to their food.
“Whose side were you on,” Casey asked. The answer would highlight more of the internal division.
Paul looked up and met his gaze. “Tristan.”
Good. Casey had a feeling that Bean’s supporters were few.
“Lincoln’s handling that part, but no one wants to touch the girl,” Paul reminded him. “Well, except for Jules. He’s been sitting in the Black holding her.”
Casey nodded and added Jules to the list of supporters for Bean.
Paul took a deep breath. “They’d just come back from a perimeter circuit when they found her crying in the river. Jules sent Ty to get Lincoln. By the time we were dispatched, Jules’d been rocking her in the water for over an hour.”
“Ethan and Tristan?” Casey needed to confirm their status.
“Camp arrest ‘til you get back.”
“How long has Bean been in labor?”
“Don’t know, Sir—Case—” Paul amended his statement at Casey’s glare. “Since this morning. Maybe overnight.”
Firstborn labor could take days, he remembered. But what if this isn’t her first? He really didn’t know. The sense of urgency returned.
“Anything else I need to know?” Casey asked Paul.
He shook his head.
“Paul? Javier? Finish the patrol,” he ordered. Casey took off his pack. “Here. I’ll see you back in the morning.”
Casey turned on his heel and jogged from the clearing. If he ran most of the way, he could be there in under two hours.
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