The Passage (111 page)

“Ten
-shun.”

Everyone snapped to. Peter saw a figure stepping briskly toward them from one of the tents. At first glance, he was not what Peter would have expected of a high-ranking military officer: an almost barrel-shaped man, a full head shorter than Greer, with a waddling, round-heeled gate. Under the dome of his shorn head, the features of his face seemed scrunched, as if they had been placed too close together. But as he approached, Peter felt the force of his authority, a mysterious energy, like a zone of static electricity that hovered in the air around him. His eyes, small and dark, possessed a frank, piercing intensity, even if, as it appeared, they had been incongruously set in the wrong face.

He regarded Peter a long moment, his hands on his hips, then looked past him toward the others, holding each briefly with the same evaluating gaze.

“I’ll be goddamned.”

His voice was surprisingly deep. He spoke with the same loose-jawed accent as Greer and his men.

“At ease, all of you.”

Everyone relaxed. Peter didn’t know what to say; best, he thought, to wait to hear from this man first.

“Men of the Second,” he declared, lifting his voice to the gathered men, “it has come to my attention that some of these strags are women. You are not to look at these women. You are not to speak to them, or come near them, or approach them, or in any way think you have anything to do with them, or they with you. They are not your girlfriends or your wives. They are not your mothers or your sisters. They are nothing, they do not exist, they are not here. Am I clear?”

“Sir yes sir!”

Peter glanced at Alicia, where she was standing with Amy, but couldn’t meet her eye. Hollis shot him a skeptical frown: clearly he had no idea what to make of this, either.

“You six, drop your packs and come with me. Major, you too.”

They followed him into the tent, a single room with an earthen floor beneath a sagging canvas ceiling. The only furnishings were a potbellied stove, a pair of plywood trestle tables covered with papers, and, along the far wall, a smaller table with a radio manned by a soldier with earphones clamped to the sides of his head. On the wall above him was a large, multicolored map, marked with dozens of beaded pins forming an irregular V As Peter moved closer, he saw that the base of the V was in central Texas, with one arm reaching north across Oklahoma and into southern Kansas, the other veering west, into New Mexico, before it, too, turned north, ending just across the Colorado border—the place where he now stood. At the top of the map, written in yellow on a dark stripe, were the words
UNITED STATES INTERMEDIATE POLITICAL
, and, beneath that,
Fox and Sons Classroom Maps, Cincinnati, Ohio
.

Greer came up beside him. “Welcome to the war,” he murmured.

The commander, who had entered behind them, directed his voice to the radio operator, who, as the men outside had, was staring frankly at the women. He seemed to have chosen Sara, but then his eyes moved to Alicia, then Amy, in a series of nervous jerks.

“Corporal, excuse us, please.”

With obvious effort, he broke his gaze away, pulling the earphones from his head. His face bloomed with embarrassment. “Sir. Sorry, sir.”

“Now, son.”

The corporal got to his feet and scampered away.

“So.” The commander’s eyes settled on Greer. “Major. Is there something you neglected to tell me?”

“Three of the strags are women, sir.”

“Yes. Yes, they are. Thank you for letting me know.”

“Sorry, General.” He seemed to wince. “We should have called that in.”

“Yes, you should have. Since you found them, I’m putting you in charge. Think you can handle that?”

“Of course, sir. No problem.”

“Put together a detail, get them billeted. They’ll need their own latrine, too.”

“Yes, General.”

“Go.”

Greer nodded, glancing quickly toward Peter—
Good luck
, his eyes seemed to say—and exited the tent. The general, whose name, Peter realized, he had yet to learn, took another moment to look them over. Now that they were alone, his bearing had relaxed.

“You’re Jaxon?”

Peter nodded.

“I’m Brigadier General Curtis Vorhees. Second Expeditionary Forces, Army of the Republic of Texas.” A hint of a smile. “I’m the big dog around here, in case that was something else Major Greer neglected to mention.”

“He didn’t, sir. I mean, he did. Mention it.”

“Good.” Vorhees nodded, regarding them all another moment. “So, am I to understand—and forgive me if I seem incredulous on this point—that the six of you walked all the way from California?”

Actually
, Peter thought,
we drove some of the way. For some of it, we took a train
. But instead he simply answered, “Yes, sir.”

“And why, may I ask, would anyone attempt such a thing?”

Peter opened his mouth to reply; but once again the answer, the true one, seemed too large. Outside, the rain had begun to fall in earnest, drumming on the tent’s canvas roof.

“It’s a long story,” he managed.

“Well, I’m sure it is, Mr. Jaxon. And I’d be very interested to hear it. For now, we need to concern ourselves with a few preliminaries. You are civilian guests of the Second Expeditionary. For the duration of your stay, you’re under my authority. Think you can live with that?”

Peter nodded.

“In another six days, this unit will be moving south to rendezvous with Third Battalion at the town of Roswell, New Mexico. From there, we can send you back to Kerrville with a supply convoy. I suggest you take this offer, but this is entirely your choice. No doubt it is something you will wish to discuss among yourselves.”

Peter broke his gaze away to look at the others, whose faces seemed to mirror his own surprise. He hadn’t considered the possibility that their journey might be over.

“Now, as for the other matter,” Vorhees went on, “which you heard me speak of with the major. I will need you to instruct the women in your party that they are not to have any contact with my men, beyond what is absolutely necessary. They are to remain in their tent, except to go to the latrine. Any needs they have are to go through you or Major Greer. Is this clear?”

Peter had no reason to refuse, other than the fact that the offer struck him as plainly ridiculous. “I’m not sure I can tell them that, sir.”

“You can’t?”

“No sir.” He shrugged. There were no other words for it. “We’re all together. That’s just how it is.”

The general sighed. “Perhaps you misunderstood me. I am asking only as a courtesy. The mission of the Second Expeditionary is such that it would be completely improper, even dangerous, for them to move freely among the unit.”

“Why would they be in danger?”

He frowned. “They wouldn’t. It’s not the women I’m thinking of.” Vorhees took a patient breath and began again. “I will explain this as simply as I know how. We are a volunteer force. To join the Expeditionary is to do so for life, by blood oath, and each of these men is sworn to die. He’s cut all ties to the world but this unit and the men within it. Each time a man leaves this compound, he wholly believes he’ll never come back. He accepts this. More than that, he embraces it. A man will happily die for his friends, but a woman—a woman makes him want to live. Once that happens, I promise you, he’ll walk through that gate and never come back.”

Vorhees was talking, Peter understood, about giving it up. But after all they had been through, it was simply impossible to imagine telling any of them, Alicia especially, that they would have to hide in their tent.

“I’m sure all of these women are fine fighters,” Vorhees continued. “You couldn’t have made it this far if they weren’t. But our code is very strict, and I need you to respect it. If you can’t, I will return your weapons and send you on your way.”

“Fine,” he said, “we’ll go.”

“Wait, Peter.”

It was Alicia who had spoken. Peter turned to face her.

“Lish, it’s all right. I’m with you on this. He says we go, we’ll go.”

But Alicia didn’t acknowledge him. Her eyes were pointed at the general. Peter realized she was standing at attention, her arms held rigidly at her sides.

“General Vorhees. Colonel Niles Coffee of the First Expeditionary sends his regards.”

“Niles Coffee?” A light seemed to come on in his face.
“The
Niles Coffee?”

“Lish,” Peter said, her meaning dawning upon him, “do you mean … the Colonel?”

But Alicia said nothing. She didn’t even look at him. Her expression was set in a way that Peter had never seen before.

“Young lady. Colonel Coffee was lost with all his men thirty years ago.”

“Not true, sir,” Alicia said. “He survived.”

“Coffee’s
alive?”

“KIA, sir. Three months ago.”

Vorhees glanced around the room before finding Alicia with his eyes again. “And who, may I ask, are you?”

She gave a crisp nod from her chin. “His adopted daughter, sir. Private Alicia Donadio, First Expeditionary. Baptized and sworn.”

No one spoke. Something final was occurring, Peter knew. Something irrevocable. He felt a wave of disorienting panic rising inside him, as if some basic fact of his life, fundamental as gravity, had been suddenly, and without warning, stripped away.

“Lish, what are you saying?”

At last she turned her face to look at him; her eyes were pooled with trembling tears.

“Oh, Peter,” she said, as the first one broke away to descend her dirt-stained cheek, “I’m sorry. I really should have told you.”

“You can’t have her!”

“I’m sorry, Jaxon,” the general said. “This isn’t your decision to make. It’s no one’s decision.” He stepped briskly to the door of the tent. “Greer! Somebody get Major Greer to my tent,
now
.”

“What’s going on?” Michael demanded. “Peter, what is she talking about?”

Suddenly everybody was speaking at once. Peter gripped Alicia by the arms, making her look at him. “Lish, what are you doing? Think about what you’re doing.”

“It’s already done.” Through her tears, her face seemed to glow with relief, as if a burden long carried had finally been put to rest. “It was done before I knew you. Long before. The day the Colonel came into the Sanctuary to claim me. He made me promise not to tell.”

He understood, then, what she’d been trying to say to him that morning. “You were
tracking
them.”

She nodded. “Yes, for the last two days. When I was scouting downstream I found one of their camps. The ashes of their fire were still warm. Way out here, I didn’t think it could be anybody else.” She shook her head faintly. “Honestly, Peter, I didn’t know if I even wanted to find them. Part of me always thought they were just an old man’s stories. You have to believe that.”

Greer appeared at the door of the tent, dripping with rain.

“Major Greer,” the general said, “this woman is First Expeditionary.”

Greer’s jaw fell open. “She’s what?”

“Niles Coffee’s daughter.”

Greer stared at Alicia, his eyes wide with shock, as if he were looking at some strange animal. “Holy goddamn. Coffee had a daughter?”

“She says she’s sworn.”

Greer scratched his bare head in puzzlement. “Christ. She’s a
woman
. What do you want to do?”

“There’s nothing to do. Sworn is sworn. The men will have to learn to live with it. Take her to the barber, get her assigned.”

It was all happening too fast. Peter felt as if something huge were breaking open inside him. “Lish, tell them you’re lying!”

“I’m sorry. This is how it has to be. Major?”

Greer nodded, his face grave, and stepped to her side.

“You can’t leave me,” Peter heard himself say, though the voice that spoke these words did not seem to be his own.

“I have to, Peter. It’s who I am.”

He had, without realizing it, stepped into her arms. He felt the tears in his throat. “I can’t … do this without you.”

“Yes, you can. I know you can.”

It was no use. Alicia was leaving him; he felt her slipping away. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“It’s all right,” she said, her voice close to his ear. “Hush now.”

She held him that way a long moment, the two of them wrapped in a bubble of silence, as if they were alone. Then Alicia took his face in her hands and bent him toward her; she kissed him, once and quickly, on the forehead. A kiss that both sought forgiveness and bestowed it: a kiss of goodbye. The air parted between them. She had released him, stepping away.

“Thank you, General,” she said. “Major Greer, I’m ready now.”

SIXTY

The days of rain: Peter told them everything.

For five full days the rain poured down. He sat for hours at the long table in Vorhees’s tent, sometimes just the two of them, but usually with Greer as well. He told them about Amy, and the Colony, and the signal they had come to find; he told them about Theo and Mausami, and the Haven, and all that had happened there. He told them that sixteen hundred kilometers away, on a mountaintop in California, ninety souls were waiting for the lights to go out.