Untitled Agenda 21 Sequel (9781476746852) (22 page)

Steven barked out the orders. Nigel would be point man and lead the team farther upstream. Nothing about Nigel impressed Winston. Oh, sure, Winston could see that Nigel was tall and muscular, but his face never showed any emotion. He had a squared-off chin, and blue eyes that pierced you, knifelike, when he looked at you. Though he never
just
looked at anyone. He stared at you without blinking, without smiling. His hair was so blond it was almost a transparent white, his pale pink scalp visible through the thin strands. Winston doubted that there would be any bonding or friendship between Nigel and him.

Next in line was Guy. How he ever made Special Teams was beyond Winston. He was too twitchy for this kind of mission. There must have been a reason he was assigned here; Winston would try to figure out what it was. Maybe the Authorities were just desperate for a healthy male, and Guy was the best they could do.

Next was red-haired Adam. Winston thought Adam had probably been with Steven since the beginning. He had that whole “sleep lightly, wake easily” routine down pat. He wasn't startled by the gun and wasn't bothered by leaving Julia behind. Orders were orders and he followed them.

Winston knew why he was next in line. Steven was sandwiching the new guys, the ones he wasn't sure about, between the experienced ones, the ones he could count on. Despite Steven's cruelty, he was cunning. He had risen to the level of team leader for a reason. It wasn't his people skills. It was his power skills.

Steven would bring up the rear, right behind Winston. Winston couldn't turn around, but he sensed that Steven had his gun out and pointed right at his back.

“We'll walk upstream till noon,” Steven said when they were beyond Julia's hearing. “If we don't see any clues, any signs of humans, on the way, we'll turn around and head back downstream. See how the
trainee
is doing.” His lips curled on the word
trainee
.

What if Julia still couldn't walk? Surely Steven wouldn't . . . Winston interrupted his own thoughts. Steven would do whatever it took to keep his team strong. He'd made that obvious. Ego had replaced all emotion for him.

They marched at a determined clip, with long-legged Nigel setting the pace at four miles per hour. By noon, they would have traveled almost twenty miles.

That would be twenty miles from Julia. Winston felt red-hot anger pulsing through his veins, directed both at the man behind him and at the situation created because of stupid decisions made by the Authorities.
The Authorities had assigned a woman to this Earth Protection team in the first place. But most women didn't have the physical abilities to do the work of an Earth Protection team. To make it worse, there was no pretraining. That guaranteed a disastrous outcome. Winston wondered what it would be like to have a system that allowed people to do what they liked to do, what they were good at, then stand back and watch them succeed.

They walked on and on. They saw no clues, not a single thing. The stream was narrow, shallow, and moving slowly. Mosquitoes swarmed in small dark clouds around them. They were all slapping at their faces, trying to stop the insects from biting.

Finally, it was noon. Some cloud cover kept it from being unbearably hot. The water in their bottles wasn't cold anymore, but it was better than nothing.

“Sit,” Steven said. Winston was more than willing to stretch his legs out and lean back on his elbows. Steven sat facing them. Winston wondered why the man never looked tired. Guy's face was blotchy red with mosquito bites, and even Nigel's scalp was pinker than usual, sunburned in spite of the cloud cover. Adam just looked bored. “Five minutes' rest, relieve yourselves in teams, and then we start back downstream.”

Nigel and Guy went into the woods first.

Then it was Adam and Winston's turn.

“You must have always been a Protection Team member,” Winston said to Adam. “You like it?”

“What's not to like? Bigger nourishment cubes, other perks.”

“I was Maintenance,” Winston said. “But we never had the right tools. Sometimes no tools at all. Things got broken but not fixed. Then they moved me to Protection. But I still have a lot to learn.”

“Learn this: shut up and keep up,” Adam snapped at Winston and walked away.

The walk back was just as tedious as the walk up had been. There
was no talking, just walking. He was tired of knowing that Steven was behind him with a gun. Winston let his mind go blank and just took one step after another. The sun was starting its downward arc.

They were nearing the area where Julia had been left.

“What the hell?” Steven muttered. His heat and motion detector should be vibrating by now. They all stopped and turned to Steven.

“What the hell?” he said again. “She should be here. But she isn't.” He was pointing into the woods. He walked faster and they followed him.

“You're right.” Nigel pointed. “That's the rock she tripped over.” All the rocks looked the same to Winston. “I stuck a stick in the ground, right there.” He pointed at a thin broken branch that was wedged upright between the rocks. “I memorized the exact location. Four rocks close together near three trees, also close together, with a pine sapling to the right. This is it.”

“Agreed. I memorized it, too,” Steven said. “This is the spot. And she's not here.”

Winston could see that these two men obviously had experience and were good at what they did. He didn't have to like them, but he had to admire their skills.

“That bitch! Pretending she couldn't walk.” Steven walked around the rocks, bent down to retrieve something, and held it up.

Julia's dark beret.

S
teven felt his face flush hot with rage and his jaw clench with anger. That traitor! Damn the Authorities who put a woman in a military operation. In
his
operation! But he knew he had to calm down and stay composed in front of his men. That's what a team leader did.

He could see where Julia had crawled to the stream. Ferns were broken off and turning brown. But he saw nothing near the water itself. No clues. No footprints. Just mud. Somewhere, there had to be a clue, and he would find it.

“All right, then. In addition to our original missions, we now have another one.” Steven decided that he would still not tell his team about the gun that one of the escapees allegedly had. “We must find Julia.” He shoved her beret into his backpack. A memento.

Nobody questioned him. Nobody said anything. But Winston wouldn't look at him.

“We covered upstream well until there were no more clues. Whoever we were following must have crossed the stream and switched direction. Otherwise, we'd have encountered them.” Steven was confident in his reasoning. This mission would be a success because of his skills; he just knew it.

He shouldered his pack; the men did the same. “Same marching order as before. Nigel leads off. I'll be rear guard behind Winston. We have a few hours till dusk. Move out!”

They crossed the shallow stream, stepping from one slippery rock to another without falling. Steven would have enjoyed seeing an Authority or even an Enforcer navigate as well as he and his men did. They'd fall flat on their smug faces. Imagining that scene made Steven smile. How he'd love to see them fall. Right now, he thought, they're probably all lapping up their special supplies, eating fresh food, sipping forbidden beverages. He slapped at a mosquito . . . damn mosquitos!

The stream widened and the banks rose steeply beside it, limiting their visual field. They needed to move to higher ground, where they could see the stream along with more of the surrounding area. Steven gave Nigel a birdcall signal and motioned with his head to climb the bank. Nigel understood and obeyed. Steven appreciated that about him. He decided Nigel had potential. Maybe he could even be promoted someday. Steven liked holding Nigel's future in his hands.

They climbed the bank, single file. Guy, that weakling, slipped back one step for every two forward. He slowed Steven down and Steven didn't like being slowed down. Nigel waited at the top, vigilant, looking around. Steven briefly wished they could go back to the good old days, when there were lots of shadow people, and they could be rounded up—hungry, skinny, dirty—and then marched back for ridicule and punishment. Now, that was power! This business of chasing only a few at a time was, in Steven's opinion, a waste of valuable resources. Just let the fools die out here in the Human Free Zone. Hopefully, this would be the last assignment. If Steven did it right, it would be.

Clouds were gathering low on the horizon, but they still had plenty of daylight left. Nigel set a good pace. Guy was starting to look winded. He'd have to just suck it up.

Still, they found no clues. Nothing was out of place: no broken branches, no dropped paper. For all Steven knew, these escapees might already be dead. But then, if that were true, he'd have located their
bodies—or at least what was left of them after the animals had had their way. No, they were out here somewhere—all of them, including Julia. He couldn't wait to find her and shove her stupid beret down her throat.

Steven signaled for a break. It was time for food, water, and a few minutes' rest. The men sat quickly, gulped water, ate their cubes, and were back on their feet. Guy scrambled but managed to stand at the same time as the others. He was learning. Winston still wouldn't look at Steven, but Steven didn't care what he thought of him.

The sun was at their backs, the sky ahead darkening, and the stream to their left had grown wider. To their right was a strange area with little vegetation. Steven signaled for Nigel to lead the team there so they could reconnoiter. They followed patches of black asphalt, crumbled but visible. It was an old road, unused and unnecessary. They might as well follow it and see where it led. An abandoned structure, maybe; the Authorities hadn't been able to pull down every building. Instead, they left them to decay over time. That could offer a hiding place for escapees. This road might lead to a big payday. Nigel sensed it and picked up the pace.

In the distance were rumbles of thunder, and the wind was picking up, tree branches were swaying. Nasty weather was on the way. The sun had almost set. They would keep walking till it started to rain, then they would hunker down for the night. None of them wanted to be near trees if lightning was close.

The thunder got louder. Lightning slashed the sky, cloud to cloud. It was time to stop and find a clearing away from the trees. The rain began, fierce large drops. They stopped walking, put on their torches, and pulled out their waterproof jackets. Their uniforms were already wet as they struggled with the tangled sleeves and pulled the hoods over their heads. The torches cast a weak light a few feet in front of them.

Then the hail started. Pellets of ice bounced when they hit the ground, and beat against their backs.

And then they heard a strange noise: the sound of hail on metal.

J
ohn knew he should sleep. He knew he had to be rested and strong for whatever tomorrow might bring, so he could continue the search for David, Emmy, and the children, and, at the same time, be alert for whatever dangers they might confront. He had to protect Joan and help this weak, injured stranger. How had she ended up in Earth Protectors? What were the Authorities thinking?

He wished they hadn't stumbled upon her. She was going to slow them down, and increase their risk of being captured. But they
had
stumbled on her, and Joan was right, they couldn't just abandon her. John knew he, too, would have trouble living with himself if they had left her behind. He'd be no better than those merciless guards and Enforcers who ruled the Compounds. He'd just have to deal with the additional responsibilities.

Weary with worry, John closed his eyes. The pinging of the rain and hail on the tin roof was discordant and disturbing. He heard Joan groan and opened his eyes. She was shifting her weight on the seat, trying to get comfortable. Tomorrow he would give her Julia's extra camouflage clothing. That would be better than her white shirt and pants.

John closed his eyes again. Maybe everything happened for a reason and maybe the reason was just too big for him to understand. John prayed that sleep would come and wrap itself around him like a blanket, forming a pillow under his head, calming his soul, giving him peace.

The storm continued, gaining in fury. Sleep would not come. Every thing John could see through the bus window was illuminated into a stark black-and-white landscape. The trees, dark in contrast to the lightning, swayed and bent. Clouds rolled in great dark waves, ominous with power. How long could nature rage like this?

A sudden crash shook the bus, waking them all and bringing John to his feet. Peering out through the wet window, John could see a large branch leaning against the bus, lodged against the roof. He also saw something else: men moving toward the bus. How many? Another flash of lightning, and he quickly counted five dark figures wearing head torches. He took his gun out of his waistband, felt the cold metal, and released the safety lock. His heart raced. This was it.

He turned to look at Joan and Julia. “Stay here.” Cautiously, he started up the aisle, toward the door. The roof had a dent in it, bulging like a tumor. The floor was slippery, covered with wet leaves. A side window had cracked into a large spiderweb shape, stretching from one side to the other.

Reaching the door, John stood as a barrier between whoever was out there and the women inside.

Lightning flashed again.

Then John saw the leader. Though they wore rain jackets, their insignia was clear.

An Earth Protector.