Jed didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say. The English were always trying to make the Amish feel guilty for decisions the strangers had made totally on their own. He was sorry about the deaths. Truly sorry. But he hadn’t asked for anyone to die. He hadn’t asked for any of this.
Dawn took a deep breath and softened her voice before continuing. “You have to understand that the story you need to know is bigger than you can possibly grasp all at once. You really need to see it all, so that you’ll believe it and comprehend it. Your brother knew that. He’s wiser than you can imagine, Jed. If we just dumped everything on you as soon as you got to the antique shop, you’d be even more overwhelmed than you already are. He believed that without the ability to see some things for yourself, you’d just be getting context-less information and you’d be liable to make bad decisions.”
“That’s what my brother said?”
“Yes.”
“He’s just a boy!”
“He’s not a boy, Jed. Not at all. He’s the leader of the revolution against this present tyranny. And that isn’t just what he said… that’s what your brother knows,” Dawn said.
“So where is he?”
Dawn hesitated. Jed tried to read her, but it was difficult. There were so many social and cultural differences. To him it seemed as if she was still trying to think of a way to continue on the mission as it had been designed.
“Our job is to keep you alive and get you to the Amish Zone,” she said finally. “A lot of people have been hurt or killed to make sure that this is what happens. None of them asked a bunch of questions about what and why. They were all taking orders, and that’s what we’re doing too. We all trust your brother—the SOMA—with our lives. If we’re going to have a future, we have to see the bigger picture, and we have to follow orders.”
“The SOMA?” Jed shook his head. “Is that some kind of resistance joke? Because his name is Amos?”
“I can see why you’d think that.”
There was a loud harrumph. Eagles had heard enough talk. He pushed Dawn aside and grabbed Jed by the coat, twisting him around until he was kneeling again. The old salvager pushed the rifle barrel up under Jed’s chin and then turned to Pook. “Talking is enough now. Boy being with me.”
Without needing a signal and in perfect synchronization, Ducky and the rest of the men fanned out so that there would be no crossfire. In unison, their pistols came up to the ready position, aimed directly at Eagles. Eagles just smiled and spat again. “Let’s… partying!” he said, which made him laugh.
Pook raised his hands, trying to calm nerves and to interdict any itchy trigger fingers. “You monkeys calm down. Everybody get your booger-hooks off the bang buttons. Nobody’s getting shot right now.”
Eagles had fire in his eyes and a huge grin on his face. He was ready for some action. He looked at Pook and raised his eyebrows, then winked.
“Wanting boy? You paying me rich right now.”
Jerry Rios, with his pistol aimed at the old man’s head, whistled for Pook to look over to him. “Say the word, Pook,” Jerry said. “Just say the word.”
Pook didn’t reply; he just held up his hand in a “stop” signal and turned back to Eagles. “Eagles, the only reason you’re not dead and we’re not already moving toward the AZ is because you’re my friend. Keep that in mind. The Amish fellow offered you the gold and you turned him down. Now you want money?”
Eagles pointed at Pook and crooked his finger. “No gold. Gold being easy. Eeguls can always getting gold.”
“Earlier you wanted gold from the SOMA, but now you don’t? Well, how do you propose I pay you if you don’t want gold?”
Eagle winked and crooked his finger again. “Giving Eeguls firing stick.”
“Firing stick?”
“Putting in pocket. Firing stick. Give to Eeguls for boy.”
Pook looked around the group from face to face. “Firing stick?”
“The okcillium lighter, Pook,” Dawn said. “He wants the lighter.”
Pook furrowed his brow. “Noooooo,” he said slowly, shaking his head.
Dawn nodded her head and implored her cousin with her eyes.
“Not a chance,” Pook said. He exhaled deeply and looked over at Ducky, who lowered his pistol and took a few steps toward Pook.
“Just give him the lighter, man! Let’s get outta here. You know this is taking too long. We’re exposed here, Pook.”
Pook closed his eyes—then reached into his pocket and pulled out the lighter. He rubbed it longingly, then tossed it to Eagles, who caught it cleanly and almost immediately lowered his rifle.
Ducky was already in motion, “All right team, we’re heading to the AZ taking Route Bravo. Everyone got it?”
Each member of the team said, “Roger that” in unison. Dawn took Jed by the hand and brought him over behind Ducky as the unit fanned out again, each member then dropping to a knee and checking weapons, waiting for an order from Pook or Ducky to move out.
Jed looked to the northwest, unconsciously gazing in the direction he believed the Amish Zone to be. That was where he wanted to go, and by their preparatory movements, it appeared to be the direction the team intended to go as well. As he stared off into the distance, it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing. In the distance, a half-dozen TRACERs—hovering white globes equipped with lenses and flashing lights—were approaching in formation, rapidly advancing toward the group. Jerry must have seen the drones at the same time, because Jed heard the big man’s voice, thick with tension, “Here they come!” just as the fullness of what was happening flashed across Jed’s mind.
Pook barked, “TRACERs! Everyone move!”
Eagles fired first; his shot caused one of the drones to shudder. The sound of the shot was like a starter’s pistol and everyone sprang into motion just before a loud explosion rocked the ground and Jed felt dirt and debris raining down on him. It wasn’t a miss. Some rebel had instantly ceased to be. Jed pulled Dawn to him and made for a low hill to the southwest just as a blast of laser light fried the ground where they’d been standing. The team opened fire at the drones, and orders echoed through the air like cracks of lightning as Jed now pulled Dawn into a low crawl. Another laser crackled past his head, and he could feel the heat and the electrical sensation of static as the shot went by.
The assault was overwhelming and brutal, and was met in earnest by Pook, Ducky, and the rest of the TRACE fighters. Billy—the man who had some kind of history with Dawn—raced through an electric mist of smoke and flying debris and slid in next to Dawn and Jed behind the low hill.
Billy grabbed Dawn’s hand and pulled her closer so that he could be heard over the din of battle. “Take Jed now and get moving! Head northwest!”
Dawn shook her head. “We shouldn’t leave the group!”
“They’re looking for him!” Billy said with a jerk of his head toward Jed. “They’ll kill everyone ’til they find him. If you don’t want to die—with him dead beside you—then you need to get out of here, now!”
“We’re staying with the team until Pook or Ducky order me to leave!” Dawn shouted over the noise.
Jed’s attention was drawn to Ducky, who had moved out from behind cover and was systematically firing his pistol at one of the drones. Ducky had a good angle on the TRACER and was taking advantage of his position to try to bring the drone down with small-arms fire. As the soldier fired away, Jed saw another drone swinging into position to fire on Ducky. Before he could shout a warning, Eagles, who must have seen the same thing, sprinted the distance between himself and the rebel fighter and tackled him to the ground just as the second drone opened fire. The move saved Ducky’s life, and Eagles rolled with the smaller man until they were both safely behind a low mound.