Jason Frost - Badlands

Steve Connors removed Jose's cap and climbed out of the tree. Paige appeared from behind a tree where she wiped the blade of her knife with a leaf. She left Jose's body behind the tree with the throat slit. Well, she'd been able to kill a man after all.

Eric approached from behind another tree, his crossbow loaded again. "That should get their attention."

"Then what, hotshot?" Steve said.

"Then they either split up, one group following us and the other continuing on to the shuttle…"

"Or?" Paige asked.

"Or they all follow us. Either way, that gives the shuttle a chance to still be there when we get back."

"If they haven't caught us."

"At least we'll be able to move," Eric said. "And they don't know where we're going. That plane can't go anywhere. And neither can the people in it. Not for another forty hours."

Paige nodded. They'd been through this before. She didn't like it, but she had to admit it was the best plan they had. This Ravensmith knew what he was doing. Jesus, that's odd, her hands were beginning to shake. She felt funny, tingly, a little faint.

"You OK, Paige?" Steve asked, putting an arm around her.

She shook it off. "Fine, Captain Connors. Let's go." Thing was, though, her feet felt cold, numb.

"You ever kill before, Dr. Lyons?" Eric asked.

She didn't answer. There hadn't been a choice at the time. Ravensmith had gone ahead to scout while she and Steve had taken the south approach. They'd been creeping along quietly when they'd spotted the Mexican climbing down the tree. Steve had signaled for her to wait behind for him and she hadn't argued. The Mexican stretched his legs out, pissed on the side of the tree, and started to climb up again.

Steve sneaked up to the tree, clamping his knife in his teeth like some boyish pirate. Paige thought he looked silly, but realized they couldn't afford to have a gun go off and warn the rest of Fallows's men. Not just yet.

When the Mexican had one leg on the lowest branch, Steve sprung out at him, thrusting the knife straight at the Mexican's barrel chest. But Jose twisted away in time and the knife only managed to slice through his left arm. The carbine dropped from Jose's hand to the ground below.

Steve thrust again. Jose caught Steve's wrist and yanked it hard. The knife plopped next to the carbine. Jose jumped from the tree, his hand still crushing Steve's wrist. With his left fist, Jose punched Steve's jaw twice. Steve fell to the ground, stunned. Jose was angry, too angry to worry about the gun or knife on the ground. He just wanted to show this bastard what he used to do with his kind in the ring. He straddled Steve's chest and began pounding the smaller man with lefts and rights. His wounded arm didn't even hurt anymore. He didn't notice the woman until too late.

Not until she'd already grabbed a handful of his thick black hair, jerked his head back, and slid the knife across his neck. That didn't hurt either and he thought maybe she'd been too squeamish to actually cut him and he would teach her a lesson next, the whore. But then he found he couldn't get up and something was running down his neck like hot soup. She was pulling him off the other man and he was letting her. Fallows would be mad, he thought, dead before he even realized he was dying.

Eric had come back then and set up the scenario. She'd waited behind the tree while they'd finished off the other guy, amazed at how cool and composed she felt. Nonplused was a good word. But now. The shaking, the cold. Christ.

"Let's get moving," Eric said, a tenderness in his voice she hadn't expected. Steve was being soothing but not tender. He didn't know the difference. "You'll feel better if you keep active." Eric grinned at her. "Not that we have any choice. When one of them doesn't return to camp in the next few minutes, they'll come after him."

Paige nodded. "Then after us."

"Right." He hooked his hand under her arm to steady her.

"I've got her, Ravensmith," Steve Connors barked, grabbing Paige's other arm.

Paige shook them both free. "Nobody's 'got' me. Now let's get out of here."

They marched through the woods, through a clearing that arced up a hill. From the top of the hill they could see the rim of the forest where it bordered the fields. They'd also be able to see Fallows's men when they emerged.

"There they are," Paige said, counting the men as they sifted through the trees into the clearing. Seventeen. More than she'd expected. They huddled in a circle around one tall man with white hair. Next to the man was a boy. Ravensmith's son, she realized. "What are they doing?"

"Deciding how many to send after me and how many after your shuttle."

"What do you think they'll do?"

"Depends," Eric said.

"On what?"

"On how badly Fallows wants me."

All seventeen men started through the clearing following the tracks Eric left for them.

"Well," Paige said, "I guess that answers that."

Dr. Paige Lyons wrapped her arms around the skinny tree to keep from falling on her face. She bent over, expecting to vomit, but she was too tired even for that.

Next to her, Capt. Steve Connors hugged his stomach with one hand and pressed against his heart with the other, as if fearing it would burst through his chest. His mouth was open as he gasped for air.

"I thought astronauts were supposed to be in good shape," Eric said innocently.

"We… are," Steve said. "I've… run…" He started coughing.

"He's run… marathons," Paige said.

Steve nodded, held up two fingers. "Twice."

Paige pointed at herself. "Jog… every day."

"Gee," Eric said, "we've only run about eight miles. Hardly anything to a pair of sports like you."

Steve straightened up, his face glowing red. "Eight miles up and down goddamn hills. In the goddamn dark. Shit."

Paige slid to the ground, her back propped against the tree, her legs splayed straight out. "Well, you wanted them following us. Congratulations."

"Thanks." Eric tipped his canteen back and drank. "We're still a good forty minutes ahead of them. Pretty soon they'll stop for the rest of the night."

"Thank God," Paige said. "I'd sell my soul for a couple hours sleep."

"I said they'd stop for the rest of the night. Not us."

Steve Connors pointed an angry finger at Eric. "Listen, pal, we've been going along with you so far. But now you're starting to bug me. What's the point in all this running, anyway? We're leaving tracks even Little Red Riding Hood could follow."

"He's right, Ravensmith. We're not even trying to cover our trail."

Eric squatted next to Paige and Steve quickly sat on her other side, giving Eric a possessive sneer. Eric sighed. "We're leaving the trail so they will have something to follow. We've been leading them away from the Columbia for the past few hours, giving us a little more room to maneuver. By tomorrow, we'll reach the beach and follow it north to where your father's cabin is supposed to be. By the time Fallows reaches the beach, our prints will be washed away and he won't know if we went north or south. There's a good chance he'll split his men up then. That will give us better odds if we have to confront them." He paused. "And it will give me a better chance to get Tim back."

"I understand your feelings about your son, Ravensmith," Paige said. "But we can't help you. We have our own mission to complete. You'll be on your own."

"On my own, huh?" Eric smiled grimly. "That'll be new."

Paige started to say something, changed her mind. It was for the best, anyway. The guy didn't have a chance of getting his son back. He'd probably be killed trying. And that would be convenient all the way around.

Steve picked up a yellow flyer from the ground, began slowly tearing it like a destructive child. "I don't like it, Paige. His plan is too risky. I think we should try to lose them now. Do some backtracking or something. That'll give us a bigger lead."