Jeff Carlson - Plague War

The cease-‚re was established hours later. The withdrawal began the next day. Ruth remained in the command bunker throughout their negotiations, staying the hands of the American of‚cers who wanted to chase the enemy back into the desert. Cam had spoken with her twice more, turning on his phone again at midnight on the second day and at noon on the third. She was okay. And then she was outside.

“Come with me,” Allison said, tugging intimately at Cam’s gun belt. He was aware of her blue eyes, but he continued to sweep the mountainside with his binoculars.

“Let’s give it another hour,” he said.

“It’ll be dark before then.”

“You can talk to those guys after they’ve made camp. They wouldn’t listen to you now anyway.”

“Come with me,” Allison said, drawing Cam near enough for him to notice her good, female scent despite the wind. She said, “It’s not safe for us to be alone out here at night.”

The pace of the crowd was increasingly anxious. Some groups were already staking claim to the †atter areas inside the ravines, blocking the †ow of other refugees, erecting lean-tos and tents. There was no ‚rewood. There was no food except whatever they carried and weeds and moss. Water seeped from the earth in a few muddy trickles but Cam saw a pack of men and women in Army uniforms settle down on top of one spring, denying it to anyone else.

Yesterday at dawn, the sun had found several cold bodies among the thousands of those still breathing. The war was over, but the dying went on. Not all of the sick or injured would survive the trek down from the mountains, and Allison’s people had dug in against a low knoll away from the ravines, stacking rock to form windbreaks and ‚lling every canteen, cup, pot, and plastic bag from their own spring, buying the goodwill of nearby refugees with water and advice.

Allison kept her hand around his waist. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “We’re doing what we can. If she made it this far, we’ll ‚nd her.”

“Yeah.”

There were so many things that could have gone wrong. Grand Lake might have captured Ruth as soon as she called to say she was clear, gambling that Cam would never release the parasite. They could have tracked her by satellite or plane despite his warnings to let her go. The refugees worked to conceal her, but at the same time, the crowds were another danger. A woman by herself would be a target.

We should have gone after her, Cam worried, but Allison had had her hands full organizing her camp and her sentries. Cam couldn’t have hiked back into Grand Lake himself. He still carried the nanotech and he didn’t trust it with anyone else. Allison’s people were ready to embrace Ruth as a savior for forcing the peace, but they didn’t know about his involvement. He’d told them Ruth did everything herself.

“We’ll try again tomorrow,” Allison said. She ‚nally let go of him. She held both arms over her head, calling in the line of sentries. The nearest man didn’t notice, his binoculars aimed up the mountainside, but on a hump of granite beyond him, the next woman saw Allison’s signal and repeated it. Those two had even farther to walk to camp than Cam and Allison, and he was glad they’d stayed as long as they had.

“Thank you,” he said, taking Allison’s hand. He would repeat the words in camp, too, as he asked them for one more day. They were all discouraged — but the nearest man was waving off Allison’s signal.

The man raised his left ‚st, then turned and pointed at the mountainside. Cam immediately twisted away from Allison, though not so fast that he didn’t see the emotion in her face. She covered her hurt with her grin, but he knew he’d done a little more damage. For the moment, he didn’t care. He brought his binoculars to his eyes and tried to ‚nd what the man was indicating.

About a mile up the hill, outside the ravines, a trio of uniformed ‚gures had stopped to gaze back at Allison’s sentries with their own binoculars. That was not unusual. Both the civilian refugees and the AWOL troops reacted uneasily to the lookouts. There was nothing distinct about this threesome, two men and a woman, ‚lthy and tattered like everyone else, but they’d recognized Cam. They all had their hands up. It was Ruth and Estey and Goodrich.

“Ha!” Cam rolled his arm in a big this way gesture. Then he turned to go, wild with excitement.

Allison didn’t follow, exchanging semaphore with her sentries on either side. Cam should have waited. Instead, he scrambled down a rocky bluff.

He had to cross the nearest gully, which was thick with refugees. He stalked into the crowd with his weapon up. No one moved to stop him. In fact, four women stumbled away from their blankets and packs to keep their distance. Cam thought to apologize, but it was better if these people were afraid. Allison and her sentries would cross behind him and they didn’t need any trouble. It was a strange feeling. Everyone on this mountainside was alive and free because of one woman’s strength. They should have been celebrating. Ruth, he thought, but he wouldn’t yell her name. “Estey!” he shouted.

The three of them walked together in a way that reminded Cam of himself and Newcombe. He wondered brie†y if Newcombe was alive and if he was still a friend or if he’d chosen another loyalty, like Deborah. Their days together seemed very distant, and Cam marveled at the unity he saw in Goodrich, Ruth, and Estey.

He hadn’t been sure if any of his squadmates were helping Ruth. She’d kept her phone calls to a few seconds each. Where was Foshtomi? Dead? The other two Rangers appeared to have committed to Ruth entirely during their standoff inside the bunker, and they would be a welcome addition to Allison’s group. They might help Allison reach out to other deserters, bolstering the future of the refugee crowds, but as Cam got closer, he forgot everything except Ruth.

She ran to him, laughing despite her obvious exhaustion. She was horribly pale, yet her brown eyes were alive with pleasure and hope. Cam didn’t hesitate. He stepped right into her arms and they clung to each other, their chests pressing tighter each time they spoke and drew breath.

“You did it,” he murmured into her curly hair. “You did it. You did it.”

“Cam,” she said. “Cam.” But she let go of his waist.

Allison strode in behind him with six men and women, each of them brandishing a shotgun or a ri†e. Several more spread out across the hill, forming a defensive line. “We’re with him,” Allison told Estey and Goodrich, and Cam nodded quickly and said, “It’s okay, they’re here to help.”

“Great,” Estey said. “Thanks.”

The two women looked each other up and down as Cam kept his arm around Ruth’s shoulders. Then he stepped away from her toward Allison. Ruth was worn and tense, but he saw the disappointment in her eyes before she concealed it exactly as Allison had done.

“Yes, thanks,” Ruth said to the younger woman.

Cam had been sleeping with Allison again. For one thing, she was capable and smart and beautiful — and the fact of the matter was there hadn’t been any guarantee that Grand Lake wouldn’t go up in a nuclear ‚reball or that Ruth would escape even if she took control of the war. Regardless, Cam had decided he’d better do everything possible to entangle himself with Allison again. They needed her.

“There are some people watching us,” one man said.

“Let’s go,” Allison said. “We have food and water and a few tents out of the wind.”

They got moving. Cam and Allison walked together as the group hurried toward the ravine, but as they began to spread out he glanced sideways for Ruth. She met his gaze silently. Maybe she understood. He wished things were different.