“Just get out there!” The argument continued to echo from inside the house, drowning out the crunch of her footsteps along the fence line. She couldn’t make out the other half of the yelling. All she knew was the two were growing louder, moving toward the back door. Fearing she’d be caught, Jenny scrambled underneath the deck—her first step sinking into a layer of gravel. The unexpected noise made her cringe.
“Back to back? Another shift? You gotta be shitting me!” His voice sounded as if it were right above her. Careful to remain unnoticed, she tiptoed into the shadows beneath the stairs, to wait, to listen. “Throw the boy in the rotation. He’s gotta damn rifle too, you know. If he’s supposed to be a scout someday, he’s gotta start learning. There’s no better time than now.”
A crunch of gravel, but not her feet. Jenny whipped her head around—only the night behind her as far as she could tell. She retreated from the stairs, feeling along the brick to guide her feet toward the noise.
“You expect me to send him out there alone?”
“He ain’t scared. Gonna be a scout, right kid?” he continued to argue.
“En. E.” A struggling voice came from the darkness—each syllable sounded as if forced through a gag.
The pounding of her heart shot into her throat. What the… She inched the muzzle of the rifle toward the voice underneath the deck. The struggling voice rose with panic.
“Grant…? Matt…?” she whispered.
The struggling voice sounded in agreement.
The deck creaked—a pair of boots now above her.
“See, he’s got this. It’s time to get out of the house, kid.” Another set of boots stepped out. “Now without Mommy and Daddy around to protect you, you’ll finally get a taste of what it’s like to earn your keep. How you like that, huh?”
Jenny didn’t hear a response.
“Nothing? Spoiled—”
“I’m not above doing anything.”
“Well then listen up cause you’re only getting the spiel once. Both the prisoners are here below the deck. All you have to do is make sure they’re still breathing every once and awhile. The rest of the time, warm up by the fire and shoot anything that moves out there. Pretty simple, so don’t fuck it up.”
“And how long’s the shift?” the scout asked.
I know I know that voice… She racked her brain. One of the Guards from River’s Edge? It’s gotta be…
“We’ll get you when your time’s up.”
“Alright…”
“Oh, and make sure you throw a couple more logs on the fire. You’re gonna need it. That woodpile’s back by the fence. Last thing I need is to find you out here dead and frozen to the ground.”
The back door slammed shut.
Each step crackled as the scout descended into the yard. Jenny kept the rifle’s muzzle trained on the newcomer’s thin frame once he rounded the front end of the deck. Don’t do anything stupid, guy. I’m not losing my friends again. The scout stomped over to the wheelbarrow and leaned his rifle against it. Just leave us alone, and we’ll be on our way.
She let her rifle hang from its sling and backed up toward her friends, eyes forward, one of her hands grasping at the air behind her. A shoulder. Quickly, she knelt down, blindly feeling for what secured him in place. Around his wrists, she found a rope, maybe two, in an elaborate knot woven into some metal apparatus attached to the house. She stripped the gloves from her hands to feel along the rope binding the two wrists together. Holding them in place, Jenny exhaled before taking the knife from her cargo pocket. Don’t mess this up. Doing her best to distinguish flesh from fiber, she wriggled the blade into place. “Hold still,” she whispered and began to saw the rope, mindful not to yank the knife and slice into something unintended. It broke with a satisfying snap.
“Hey,” Matt whispered after removing his own gag. “Where the hell’s Danny?”
She stuffed her hand over his mouth—“Get Grant”—and handed him the knife before taking hold of the rifle again. To her left, Matt worked to free Grant while she fixed her attention back to the fire. Shit… She forced a lump down into her stomach. The wheelbarrow sat unattended. Taking hold of Matt’s coat, she gave a violent shake to get his attention back to the yard.
“Wha—” he tried.
Another shake.
They sat in silence, neither breathing—her rifle pointed toward the glow of the fire. Failure filled her mind, defeat, anticipating their capture. Then, the crunching of snow in the distance allowed them to breathe once again. The scout plodded toward the wheelbarrow with stacked firewood cradled in his arms. Lazily, he dumped his load to the ground, allowing the firelight to climb his chest, to illuminate his face, his dark framed glasses.
Jenny’s heart dropped.
In a trance, she took a step toward the scout.
Xavier… Her eyes honed in on his face, discerning its features. It can’t be, but… No, he’s dead. It can’t. Tears formed within her eyes, blurring the sight of this cruel joke her mind played with her. She swiped the tears from her face. Even after, it was Xavier that stood there feeding the fire, warming his hands. But in a Second Alliance uniform. It couldn’t be him. To be sure, she forced another step. Someone grabbed her from behind.
“Is that…?” Matt whispered, still clutching Jenny’s coat.
She ignored him, her eyes remained on Xavier, watching him as he pulled a few logs from the snow and stacked them neatly on top of the fire. I know it’s him. Without a doubt. “Xavier,” she said, quiet, but forceful. His head lifted, searching across the top of the deck. “It’s me. Jenny.”
“Jenny…? Where the hell—”
“Shush! Under the deck.” Jenny and Matt crept toward the yard.
Xavier leaned forward to see. “Is it really you?”
“Yes, really.”
“Matt and Grant, too,” Matt butted in.
“Man…” Xavier’s voice broke. It took everything inside her not to break down with him. “How the hell did—”
The back door creaked open. “Who you out here talking to?” one of the Guards asked, his footsteps crossing the deck.
“No one.” Xavier’s voice quivered. “Nothing. Just… I’m just singing.”
“Well cut that shit out. No one wants to hear it.” His hand scraped across the deck’s railing, plowing a stretch of snow onto the ground. A few clumps fell just beyond Jenny and Matt’s boots. “Thomas wants them checked on. They causing any trouble down there?”
“No.” Xavier made toward the bottom of the deck’s staircase. “I checked them like five minutes ago. Everything’s good. They’re sleeping. Ropes are good.”
“How the hell they sleeping down there? I gotta see this.”
He’s coming. Shit!
“You guys made it sound like it was a long march.” Xavier caught the Guard a few steps from the bottom of the flight. “Probably exhausted.”
“Pussies.” The Guard chuckled.
“You need me to do anything else?”
“Quit singing and get the fuck out of my way, small fry.”
“Thomas put me on watch,” Xavier tried.
“Don’t give a shit. It’s my ass if anything happens to them.”
Through the gaps in the open stairs, she watched the Guard brush past him. Her heart sank. Silently, she slid her pistol from its holster and handed it to Matt before taking the rifle into her shoulder, steadying it toward the Guard.