Stars Across Time (12 page)

Theron stuck the butt of his rifle out of the window a couple of times, waiting to see if anyone would shoot at the movement. He was on the back side of the cabin, and he figured anyone watching would be monitoring the only door, but he was wary, nonetheless. After a moment, he pulled himself out, dropping lightly to the ground.

He landed in the tall grass without making a noise and crouched there for a moment, his back to the wall as he listened again. He thought about circling to the front, so he could check on the guard, but he would be in the open up there where the grass was more packed down, and a dirt road led to the door. Instead, staying low, he darted for the trees behind the cabin. Once in the protection of the shadowy woods, he circled around for a view of the door. His instincts had not been wrong. The man Bedene had assigned to guard duty lay crumpled on the stoop, not moving. From his position, Theron could not tell what had killed him. If a gun had fired, it would have woken everyone in the cabin. An arrow, perhaps?

Theron could not reach the woods on the other side of the road, the ones where a sniper might be crouching, waiting for the rest of the camp to wake and walk outside, not without exposing himself. Instead, he trotted through the forest in the direction of the nicker he had heard. The soft whuffs of two horses guided him to their position. They were tied to trees close to the highway. They lacked saddles and blankets—raiders always rode bareback.

After circling the area to make sure one of the owners had not been left behind, Theron untied the horses and swatted them on the rumps. When they only ambled a couple of steps, not concerned by his swat, he made one of the animal cries he and his brother had practiced as children, that of an excited coyote closing on its prey. It had the desired effect. The horses squealed and took off like pigs under the branding iron.

Theron found a hiding spot between two trees and readied his rifle. He didn’t have one of the powerful weapons stolen from Andie’s era, but he had six bullets loaded and ready.

Less than a minute later, two men approached, their chests bare, long ropes of hair dangling down their backs. They moved quietly, warily, even though they must have been concerned about losing their horses. Theron didn’t hear them until they were almost on top of him. Fortunately, in the gloom, they never saw him. He fired, chambered the next round, and fired again, not hesitating because he knew they would react quickly.

The first raider died before he hit the ground, but the second whirled, and the bullet only clipped him. He pumped his arm. Theron ducked an instant before something cut into the trunk above his head. The man jumped behind a tree for cover. Not able to target him for another shot, Theron sprinted across the intervening distance, hoping to smother him before he could throw another weapon. Neither of the raiders had carried rifles.

The man leaned out and hurled something else. Theron ducked again as he swept his rifle across in front of him, as if he could block whatever was being thrown. Something
did
clang off the barrel, but he didn’t stop to worry about it. He darted around the tree, ready to club the raider with the firearm. His opponent was injured and didn’t seem to have any more weapons beyond whatever he was throwing. He should have run, but he howled like an animal and leaped at Theron instead.

They met in a clash, Theron using his rifle like a staff, pummeling his foe. He rained blows down, striking a half a dozen times in as many seconds. His opponent was blocking with nothing more than his arms, metal thudding against flesh, but it took a dozen more strikes before the sturdy raider faltered and fell. Not wanting the man to report back to his camp, not when he had dozens of allies out there, Theron yanked out his dagger and cut the raider’s throat.

He walked back to the tree he had been hiding beside to see what the man had been hurling. A five-pointed throwing star stuck out of the bark. He would have a gouge in the barrel of his rifle after deflecting that other one.

After ensuring the second scout was dead, Theron made a circle around the camp, checking for others. He didn’t find anyone else, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the raiders had heard his gunshots. Their camp was less than two miles away. Maybe
he
should have been flinging throwing stars. He pocketed the one he had found in case he needed it later. In a desperate moment, he could hurl his knife, but it wasn’t weighted properly for throwing.

Bedene and the rest of his men were outside the cabin when Theron returned to the clearing. The women weren’t in sight, so he assumed they had been told to stay inside. And left to plot or find more knives to add to their collection. How these idiots managed to get any of their captives to these markets was a mystery to Theron.

“Mace here,” he called from the tree line. The kidnappers would be twitchy after finding their comrade dead at the front door, so he did not step out immediately.

Indeed, two rifles swung in his direction, even with his warning. Or maybe
because
of his warning. He hadn’t told anyone he was leaving, so it was possible they thought he had killed their buddy. Some of them might simply want an excuse to shoot him.

“What happened?” Bedene demanded, pointing down at the body. He hadn’t pointed his rifle at Theron, but he did have it in his other hand.

“Same thing that almost happened to me, I’m guessing. A throwing star to the throat.”

“Yours?” one of the riflemen asked.

Theron had not stepped out from behind cover yet, and he wouldn’t until they all lowered their weapons. The sky had lightened, and he had no trouble seeing them, but the forest canopy overhead should have made it hard for them to see him.

“The raiders,” Theron said. “I heard something outside and climbed out the window to check. Had a hunch someone might be watching the door, and I was right. Two raiders were lurking out there. I lured them out into the woods and took care of them.”

“That you with the gun?” Bedene asked, censure in his voice. “Bet everyone up and down the highway heard that.”

“I didn’t have any throwing stars. Better than fifty raiders being led to the cabin. You wanted to leave early, right? Here’s your chance.”

“Funny how you’re the only one who’s seen these raiders.”

“Not my fault you were too lazy to come out and look at the fires last night,” Theron said, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice. He could handle a lecture from a superior officer, but not from some yokel who had dropped out of the army ten years ago. “I’ll show you the bodies if you like. But you ought to get your men ready. The raiders will come looking for their missing scouts before long. There’s a trail back behind the cabin. I’m not that familiar with this area, but it looks like it parallels the highway for a while.

“It does.” Bedene did not move. He looked back toward the highway, then toward the trail.

The two men with the rifles hadn’t stopped pointing them in Theron’s direction. That was irritating him too. He flung the throwing star he had retrieved, the blade whipping soundlessly through the air. It knocked the hat off one man’s head, pinning it to the side of the cabin.

“Shit,” the kidnapper cursed, lowering his rifle and scampering back against the wall.

“You don’t aim a gun at a man who has cover when you don’t,” Theron said, tired of dealing with these people.

He had used his command voice, something that might raise Bedene’s suspicions again, but he was struggling to care at this point. Aside from himself, there were only ten men left. The night before it had crossed his mind to pick them off in their sleep and take Bedene aside for an interrogation. If he could get the location of the market and take the man’s bracer, he might have everything he needed to complete his mission and send the women home—
if
the time machine hadn’t been moved. But the raiders added an additional complication. If they chose to follow, Theron couldn’t imagine protecting five women while fending off fifty men, especially when those men had horses and he didn’t. It was forty miles to the closest army outpost, where he could find help. On his own, he could make that in a day, but with the women?

“All right, Mace,” Bedene said. “Nobody’s going to shoot you. We’re just getting tired of losing men.”

And they were tired of him interfering with their salacious urges, Theron guessed. But Bedene did not say that.

“You said they have horses, right?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Listen, if you can send these raiders off on another trail and maybe get a couple of horses for us, I’ll see to it that you get a double share of the earnings.”

Theron almost said that he didn’t give a damn about the money—after all, he had no intention of letting anyone be sold—but he snapped his mouth shut, remembering his ruse. “The way I see it, there are three extra shares on the table now.”

“You think you should get the shares of the people you killed?” Bedene asked. “That’s not going to make us think overly fondly of you.”

“Do you think fondly of me
now
?”

“No,” growled the man whose cap he had knocked off.

Several others shook their heads.

Bedene snorted. “You get the horses, Mace, and get us a head start, and we’ll talk. You’ll at
least
get two shares.”

“Odd how you keep trying to get rid of me,” Theron said, thinking of the firewood gathering errand Bedene had made up for him the night before. What if this was about getting rid of him again, so the men could enjoy a leisurely morning with the women? No, Bedene wouldn’t be that stupid, not with raiders about to be breathing down their necks. He didn’t even seem that interested in the women. Last night, he had probably been trying to avoid the exact situation that had played out.

“You’re the only one here with a scouting background,” Bedene said. “You’re the logical choice.”

A scouting background he had barely used in the last fifteen years. Commanders didn’t run off to go sneaking through the woods; they had light-footed, young privates for that.

“We need the horses for the women,” Bedene added. “Your tattooed beast is the only one without blisters all over her feet. Apparently, people didn’t walk much back then.”

“All right. Horses.”

Bedene had doubtlessly added that last argument because he had known that the prospect of making things easier on the women would sway Theron, but he couldn’t deny that the group
could
use horses. And a head start. It shouldn’t take him that long to travel to the camp, but he had better go before full daylight came. And he had better hope that he was as good at stealth as he had once been—and that the raiders didn’t have somebody better.

• • • • •

Andie grimaced as she stood near the doorway, listening to Bedene’s side of the conversation with Mace. With
Theron
, she reminded herself, though she vowed not to use the name out loud. It made her nervous that he was being sent away, that he was
letting
himself be sent away. Bedene’s reasoning might sound legitimate, but Andie had a bad feeling about it. These men had a lot of reasons to want to get rid of Theron, and this might be their opportunity to do so.

And then what would happen to Andie and the others? As much as she hated admitting that she was dependent on a man—or on
anyone
—she couldn’t deny that the kidnappers still outnumbered them and had a huge advantage. Min-ji was clever, but she didn’t have any fighting experience, nor had Andie seen anything to suggest that the others did.

“I’m ready,” Barbara whispered, joining her near the door, patting the side of her thigh.

Andie nodded to her, glad the woman had woken up more animated today. The day before, Barbara had worn a glazed expression and spoken little, even when Andie had tried to draw her into their meeting in the corner. As Andie had suspected, her boyfriend had been killed in front of her eyes, and she didn’t quite seem to grasp yet what was going on. Further, she had blisters upon blisters on the bottoms of her feet. Her inertia was understandable.

All of the men had gone outside when they had discovered the dead guard, telling the women to stay put. Min-ji had headed to the hearth and stirred up the fire, mumbling something about ingredients she had seen the day before. Now, she was pouring something into a hot skillet. Andie had no idea if she would have enough time to finish whatever she was making.

She had used the men’s absence to rifle through the packs of the dead, assuming that anything taken from them would not be missed. She had found a sheath for the compact knife Theron had thrown to her and had used some twine to tie it high up on her thigh. Since nobody had offered her a belt, it was the best she could manage. She had found knives for Min-ji and Barbara, as well, instructing them on how to hide them. It wouldn’t take a very thorough search—or a very thorough grope, as they were more likely to receive from these brutes—to uncover the weapons, but Andie hoped to keep ahold of her knife long enough for it to be useful. She had found a tin full of matches, as well, the heads bulbous and uneven, as if they had been made from scratch instead in a factory. So long as they worked. They were tied to her other thigh, along with a couple of pouches she had filled with gunpowder and tied off.

“We should go now,” Marisa said, the girl who had spent the night in the loft. Even if she had gone up willingly and there hadn’t been any cries of distress, her dark eyes were haunted now, and she flinched when Min-ji made a noise by the hearth. Marisa might have been moved into this group because she wasn’t a virgin, but Andie wagered that thug had been an alarming change from whatever high school sweetheart she had back home. “There are windows back there. Let’s sneak out, get out of here.”

“And go where?” Andie asked, Theron’s words coming to mind.

When he had mentioned the bracers, she had deflated, her plan of using the time machine falling apart, but then she had remembered that Bedene wore one. If she could get it from him, they might yet be able to get home. Even though she believed that Theron was an army officer and had good intentions, the route he had described sounded more complicated than running back up the trail to that cave and trying that time machine. If the machine had been moved, as he had suggested might occur,
then
they could go to his base and hope that everything would be as he had said. He hadn’t told her his rank, though, and she didn’t know if he truly had any power over what their fates might be if they returned. He didn’t have any gray in his dark hair, and she didn’t think he could be any older than forty, which meant he might be the equivalent of a lieutenant colonel in the Air Force, but he might only be a captain or a major, if promotions here weren’t automatic, and she presumed they weren’t. She didn’t know anything about this world, but she had a hard time imagining someone as high ranking as a colonel being sent out on a mission like this. If he had that much rank, he ought to be commanding a battalion or a brigade somewhere; he would be too valuable to risk on something like this. Of course, the time machine might be top secret here, which would mean they would have to send someone they trusted, who had the talent, the experience, and the clearance necessary to make decisions in regard to it.