“Fuhgyou. Col’ado.”
“They told us,” Cam said, but Sawyer whipped his head back and forth in a stiff motion that bent his torso. One leg kicked up beneath the blankets as he lost his balance, and Cam grabbed his arm.
Cam shook him. “They told us you had to show them first.”
“L’go!” His voice was a screech. “L’go me!”
Cam obeyed. Cam pulled his gnarled fingers from Sawyer’s shirt but then reversed direction, surging his weight into the other man, shoving his open palm against Sawyer’s ribs. It looked spontaneous. It looked like an act of long-suppressed misery, and Cam’s regret was obvious and immediate. He grabbed at Sawyer again as Sawyer collapsed on the bed, mewling in pain. “Aa aaa! Aa!”
Hernandez jumped to his feet, the camera left on the floor, yet he stayed back as Cam leaned over Sawyer, patting his side and murmuring, “Sorry— Hey, I’m sorry—”
Sawyer’s response surprised her, not spite, not more of that cruel glee at his own power. He answered Cam with the same apologetic tone. “Na’now, ’kay? Na’now.”
“Not now, okay, you bet.” Cam turned toward them, but with his eyes averted. “No more right now.”
* * * *
The feast was a disaster too. Leadville had included fresh meat in their provisions, a slab of ribs large enough to identify as cow. They’d also brought charcoal and the soldiers layered a broad, shallow pit with two full bags of briquettes. That smoky aroma was torture by itself, the ghost of summertime family gatherings, and the smell became unbearable when they placed the meat on a grill set low over the embers.
Everyone clustered around the fire pit except Sawyer, the two medics, and Dr. Anderson. Cam had also stayed inside, in case Sawyer was uncooperative, and Hernandez double-checked that their portions were held back for later.
The sky deepened enough to show the first stars. Todd said the brightest dot was Jupiter and one of the soldiers said it was Venus. The kids pushed through the small crowd, yelling. Ruth sat right up front, dulled by exhaustion and disappointment, alive with hunger. Her back was cool, her face too warm. Her arm ached inside her cast.
Maureen’s strident voice lifted her gaze from the sizzle and pop of the meat. “You have to take us with you!”
Across the fire pit, Hernandez had been talking quietly with the Special Forces captain and two of the pilots. Maureen stood behind them now, having edged close enough to eavesdrop.
Hernandez turned and shook his head. “We don’t have enough containment suits, and we might be down there for hours.”
“But come back for us. Take us back with you.”
“We won’t want to risk an extra landing or use up the fuel.”
“You landed fine!”
The four children, parading among the soldiers with their stick weapons, had gone still and silent at Maureen’s outburst. Now all of them fled, ducking through the taller adults.
“You can’t just leave us here!”
“I’m sorry. We’ll give you as many supplies as—”
“You can’t! You can’t!”
Ruth returned her gaze to the fire pit as Maureen pleaded in a lower voice and the other California woman began to cry. They didn’t realize they were so much better off here, even if the planes had been headed back to Leadville.
It was interesting that Maureen seemed to have the same false ideal of Colorado as Sawyer, and Lord knew Ruth had created her own unrealistic expectations while she was still aboard the ISS. Maybe everyone needed the possibility of a safe haven, somewhere, to keep them going. Ruth didn’t know how to feel about that. It made her sad and it made her afraid.
She rubbed her eyes to hide her face and wished again that there was another way.
* * * *
The meat was phenomenal, crisp fat, nearly raw against the bone, and she ate too quick, trying not to wolf it down but not entirely in control of herself.
* * * *
Hernandez made sure Ruth had her own tent, a low two-man dome made for backpacking. The soldiers staked it down between the long body of the C-130 and their own, larger tents.
She washed her face and hands at a plastic tub, wanting at least to pull off her top and sponge her neck and armpits. A bath would be better. But she had no privacy, walled in by soldiers, and water was a carefully measured resource here. Unlike Leadville, surrounded by mountain ranges and snowpack, this little island had only two dribbling springs, one of which dried up each summer. Maureen had warned Hernandez about rationing twice in Ruth’s hearing.
She lingered over the tub, dripping, reluctant to settle in for the night despite feeling totally depleted. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to sleep. The bugs here were creepy, pervasive, and loud — and her fear was the same, nonstop flickers of adrenaline. Hernandez had relayed their clues over the radio, the names archos and Freedman, but it might be days before the FBI produced anything useful.
The conspiracy would be uncovered long before then.
If Hernandez had included her name in his report, even just to praise her efforts, it might be soon. Tonight. What would happen? Fuel was so precious, would they fly her back? Would there be a gunfight as one group of soldiers turned on the other?
She was glad when Cam banged on a supply crate and yelled, “I have to see her!”
From her perspective the knot of men were a single, complicated shadow, their flashlights aimed into Cam’s body. The soldiers appeared ready to turn him back. Ruth hurried over and said, “Hold on.”
“I want to try again with Sawyer,” he told her, “just you and me so he’s not so outnumbered.”
“I’ll go,” D.J. said, striding up beside Ruth’s shoulder.
Cam shook his head. “Didn’t ask you.”
* * * *
He moved through the dark like he was born to it, not at all hindered by his limp. Ruth and her Marine escorts kept to the bobbing white cone of their flashlights, staring down, sweeping the smooth asphalt road for nonexistent hazards. The fifty yards between their camp and the cabin were enough distance for Cam to leave them behind.
Two windows shone with lanternlight, at the cabin’s front and at the side. Sawyer’s room. The night, so absolute, might have made Ruth uneasy but instead heightened her sense of inclusion. The cool dark seemed so much smaller than daylight, hiding the miles of empty land that fell away below them.
She heard the boys inside, faintly, then the deeper voice of a man. The soldiers’ flashlights jabbed up and caught Cam and Dr. Anderson standing together by the front door. Their hands rose to shield their faces.
“Thank you,” she said to her two soldiers. “Why don’t you wait here.”
“Ah, no ma’am.” Staff Sergeant Gilbride shook his head.
“The whole point is to keep from overcrowding him—”
“We’ll stand outside his room. He won’t know we’re there.” Gilbride started forward, gesturing to Cam, and the rich lanternlight spilled over them as the door opened. They stepped inside, Ruth caught between Gilbride and the other soldier.
What had Hernandez told his men, to be careful that these people didn’t take her hostage and demand to be flown to Colorado? Sawyer was more valuable than she, and they had done everything in their power to make him available…
The three boys had several decks of cards laid out on the floor beside their lantern, a game she didn’t recognize. Dr. Anderson knelt among them. Cam led the two Marines and Ruth toward the short hall at the back of the room, pausing there.
“You seem like you have your head on straight,” Cam said, making eye contact, and Ruth shrugged at the compliment. Then he lowered his voice. “Flirt with him.”