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Valentine heard a high-pitched whistle from the other side of the street. Duvalier and a man in the shale-colored uniform of the Ordnance, old US M-model rifle over his shoulder and a duffel in his hand, ran across the street and to the Lincoln.
"You weren't kidding about transport," Duvalier said. "Tar, meet Corporal Scott Thatcher."
Valentine remembered him from the dance. Thatcher had a bony face, but everything was pleasantly enough arranged.
"You sure about this?" he asked. He meant the question for Duvalier but Thatcher spoke up.
"I want out, sir. Passage all the way if it can be arranged." He lowered his voice. "Free territory."
Valentine didn't like it. The boy could win a nice position in the Kurian Zone by turning them in. He was certainly armed heavily enough to take control of the escape, with a pistol at his hip, an assault rifle over his arm . . .
Is that what you really think? Or is it Alessa finding someone?
Valentine's first escape from the Kurian Zone, leading a few families of refugees with a platoon of Zulu Company's Wolves, had been betrayed to the Reapers. He wouldn't let it happen again.
On the other hand, an Ordnance uniform, stripes, and knowledge of the region-assuming Thatcher could be trusted--would come in handy.
"He's okay, Val," Duvalier said. For her to use his real name like that must mean something. "He knows the ground. I trust him. So can you."
"We'll see."
"Says the man who manages to come out the gates with three, count 'em, ladies and gentlemen, three women. New personal best?"
Valentine ignored the jibe. "You'll have to put your duffel up top," he said to Thatcher. "The rifle can go in back. Give me that pistol."
Thatcher passed him the weapons. Valentine handed the assault rifle back to Ahn-Kha in the cargo bay.
"Take shotgun," Valentine said. "And remember, another shotgun's in the seat right behind you."
Valentine wondered how they'd all fit. Duvalier crouched in between the driver and passenger seats, next to Thatcher, with Valentine and Pepsa in the seats behind.
"Fire your doing?" he asked Duvalier as they pulled away from the fire and the growing crowd.
"Yes. But it's just a diversion. In another half hour the police headquarters is going to lose their fodder-wagons and fuel depot."
Pepsa took a startled breath. "I had a feeling you were more than just a boy heading home, Tar," Boothe said.
"You thought of everything," Thatcher said. "But it's not the police we have to worry about, it's the Ordnance."
"A girl has to keep busy," Duvalier said.
In the back, Ahn-Kha assembled his puddler.
"West on the river road," Valentine told Boothe.
"Where you planning to cross?" Thatcher asked, excitement bringing his words fast and hard.
"Route ten bridge," Valentine said. "Just a mile ahead here. Saw it when we were biking. It gets a lot of traffic."
"Yeah, 'cause it's open to civilians," Thatcher said. "You'll at least get a flashlight sweep. Go up five more miles and cross at Ironton Road. That's an Ordnance checkpoint. There's a Kentucky Roadside popular with all of us up a ways there. Better all around."
"Well?" Boothe asked.
"Ironton Road it is," Valentine said.
Duvalier gripped Thatcher's hand and nodded, but Valentine felt like it was a mistake. He handed her a party hat.
* * * *
