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Desmond was the first man he indicated, and I was the third. Considering the sputtering noises the other prisoner is making, I’m guessing this isn’t good.
“Be ready,” Desmond whispers.
I have no clear idea what’s happening, other than we’re being marched in the opposite direction than the men usually go when they leave the cell each day. Looking around, I try to orientate myself from where I came down from the Hughes property, but I’m all turned around.
“Keep moving,” one of our captors growls out. “Right up there on the left.”
His cohort, who is leading us, cuts to the right instead and instantly they all start bickering. Before I know what’s happening, Desmond turns and tackles one of the men behind us. When I see the man who selected us reach for the gun holstered at his side, I rush him.
He stops trying to free the weapon and braces himself for my impact instead. This might have worked better if I wasn’t so damn weak. I find myself being flung to the ground and getting the shit kicked out of me.
The guard is about a dozen kicks in before I get my wits about me and I grab for his leg; catching it, I roll backwards. My half-assed plan works, taking him down and once he’s flat on his back, I shift toward him and swing my elbow back, catching him under his chin. The impact jars me, and even though I’m grunting heavily from the pain in my ribs, I continue swinging my arm down.
“Mate, you can stop now,” Desmond says, he’s on the ground near me, and the sight of the bloody knife that he is holding reminds me of the one that I had stuck in my boot. “He’s done for.”
Looking up, I see the blood draining from the back of the man’s head and realize there must have been a rock or something behind him; something that crushed his skull. The captor who had made the wrong turn, reaches a hand down to help Desmond up and they slap each other on the back.
“Eddie, this is my cousin, Dairmuid,” he introduces us as I look at the three bodies on the ground before looking around for the other prisoner that was with us. “That asshole took off the second we made our move.”
“Grab what you can.” Dairmuid’s words have a slight accent to them, but there’s no time for questions. “Where are you heading?”
“I need to get back up the mountain,” I tell him without thinking, and freeze when I wonder if that was a mistake.
“Fuck, you’ll have to go that way. Walk to the edge of town, then turn right. That’s your best chance of avoiding this want-to-be militia,” he says, pointing in the direction we had turned.
“Wait, which way are we going?” Desmond asks him, looking between us.
“We’re going west, then when we’re well clear of these bastards, we’ll cut south. He means to go east, then south.”
“Thank you both,” I say, pocketing a gun I’ve taken off one of the guards before reaching out to shake their hands. “Safe travels.”
“You could come with us,” Desmond offers, drawing a hiss from Dairmuid.
“I have a daughter that needs me. I appreciate what you’ve done for me, now I’m just going to hope you don’t shoot me in the back.” Softening my words with a smile, I nod to them before heading off on my way, not entirely sure how I happened to be a part of what just played out, but now’s not the time to worry about how I became a part of their escape plan.
My ribs hurt like hell, and my right knee is threatening to give way, but I have to focus on evading the militia that is occupying this town. Nothing matters more than making it home.
Julia
“Do you think he’ll make it back?” Dylan asks me and I’m relieved that Trisha can’t hear his question.
It’s stressful enough being this far past Grandma’s place, but needing to be responsible for someone dependent on us to keep her safe, makes this trek trickier than I had planned.
It’s just then that we hear the crunch of footsteps in the snow, opposite of where we had Trisha wait for us and we both jump when we hear Eddie’s voice before we see him.
“Do I want to know what you two are doing out here?” He tries to smile, but he looks worn out and is definitely breathing harder than he should be. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, I thought I had gotten turned around.”
“We spent the night at Grandma’s and thought we would try to make it down to the tree you were supposed to meet Aiden at,” Dylan explains, his eyes taking in Eddie’s appearance. “Holy shit! I’m glad Trisha is with us.”
He’s supporting his ribs as he continues to limp toward us, his eyes widening when he registers Dylan’s words and his head twists around as he looks for Trisha.
She steps from the cove of trees she was waiting in, but stops when he holds his hand up.
“There’s been a lot of movement out here today,” Eddie says, keeping his voice low and motioning us to follow him over to Trisha. “I wasn’t exactly staying down there of my own free will. I think the people who can, are moving further from home, trying to find safety and food. Everyone is terrified of the group that invaded them and I can tell you from firsthand experience, that if the wrong person spotted us, they might snitch on us to get extra rations.”
“Rations?” Dylan asks as Eddie reaches for the canteen hanging from his pack and quickly tugs the lid off, gulping it down.
“But Dad made it sound like the group, I can’t remember the leader’s name, that he was organizing things and making it better,” I repeat what we were told, looking away as Eddie holds Trisha to his left side. “He said it wasn’t the same group that Dale had come across.”
