We were parked outside a low concrete building, one of many that were huddled within a tall perimeter fence. Streetlights glowed around us. I could see signs of an old battle. Charred walls and broken windows. I guessed that Shrike must have been an old Fed base the Path took over as it advanced.
The soldiers swarmed Hill as he moved from one to the next, taking in information and issuing orders. Rhames stood on the outer ring of the group, glaring at me, but once Hill spoke with him, he turned away and didn’t look back.
“Callum,” Hill said, returning to me with a heavily freckled soldier. “Sergeant Parker here will get you something to eat and then take you to have your talk with the girl. You’ll report to me when you’re done.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, falling easily into the crisp obedience of my days at Cormorant.
Hill flew up a set of concrete stairs and was gone, leaving me with Parker.
“This way, Private.”
“I’m just a novice,” I said as I followed him up the stairs and inside.
“Well, looks like when you save the president’s life, you jump to the head of the line. Congratulations. Come on, I’ll grab you a uniform and show you to the mess. You missed dinner, but I’m sure they can find a hero of the Path something to eat.”
I had to hustle to keep up with him. Hero of the Path. All I could do was ignore it and stay focused. Parker and I weaved through a stream of soldiers, most of whom were wearing more stripes and stars than anyone I had ever seen. You could feel purpose sparking off the place like a live wire. They all knew they were about to win.
“Here you go.”
Parker held out a stack of camouflage and a pair of boots. A private’s stripes hovered over the Path insignia on the arm of the shirt. I hesitated, knowing I should reach out and take them but unable to do it.
“Let’s move, Private. Latrine is that way. I’ll give you five.”
I took the clothes out of Parker’s hands and pushed through the latrine door. The bathroom was empty and stark, smelling of bleach and soap. I dressed as fast as I could, struggling with the awkwardness of my cast. I moved my good hand through my unkempt hair, trying to smooth it back and match the men I had seen in the hallways outside.
When I was done, I stared at the strange figure in the mirror. A flash of gold winked and I reached up to touch the pin on my collar, a sun bisected by a single line. There it was again, that feeling of the present rushing into the past like two rivers into one.
Parker banged on the door. I knelt by my old clothes and dug through them until I found Bear’s collar. I stuffed it in my pocket and then stepped out of the latrine.
As Parker and I made our way down the hall through the masses, I walked faster, my shoulders squaring to match the others. The mess was empty except for a few novices moving from table to table, cleaning up plates and glasses from dinner. Silverware clattered as it dropped into their trays. Parker sat me down at the end of a table and returned a moment later with a tray full of meat, corn bread, and green beans.
“Real Texas barbecue,” Parker said. “President Hill insists on it everywhere we go. Some of us think that’s what the whole war is really about: bringing proper beef barbecue to the heathen masses. You have fifteen minutes for chow. I’ll be waiting down that hall in the third office when you’re done.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, and then Parker was gone.
I drained the glass of milk next to my plate in one gulp, then lifted my fork and poked at the glistening pile of meat. Real Texas barbecue. Just looking at it made me ill, but I forced it down, watching as the novices scrubbed and polished the mess. It was hard to believe that an hour north, an entire world was slipping away.
“Are you done with that, sir?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
I pushed the tray toward the novice’s hand, but the tray and everything on it crashed onto the linoleum floor. Shards of glass glittered amid the charred pile of beef. I looked to see if the novice was okay and was met with a rush of vertigo. The room spun around the young novice’s face and I sat there, mouth open, fingers splayed weakly on the plastic tabletop.
“James?”
25
I knelt by the table and helped James gather the shattered dishes into a bin he carried. He reached for a piece of glass and it pricked the tip of his finger.
“Careful,” I warned.
“I got it.”
James glanced out the open door into the hall.
“What are you doing here?” he asked as he picked up the remaining shards. “If you’re a spy, President Hill will find out.”
“So it’s President Hill now?” James glared at me, then went back to his work. “Someone had a bomb at his speech and I saved his life.”
“Why?”
It was a knife-edge of a question and I didn’t know how to answer it. A speck of barbecue sauce flew off his rag as he scrubbed, striking his uniform. James hissed and rubbed at it with his thumbnail. I took the rag and found its single clean corner.
“Here.”
I held the cloth of his uniform between my fingers and worked at the stain until it began to fade. If I closed my eyes, I could have sworn we were back at Cormorant.
When I was done, I stepped away and caught James staring hungrily at the private’s stripe on my shoulder. He had been dragged across the country to scrub floors and clean plates and he still lusted after a stupid stripe. I remembered dogs in Quarles’s kennel that were the same way. The harder you kicked them, the more they tried to please.
“Private Roe!”
James jumped to attention as soon as he saw Parker standing by the door.
“Everything okay here? This novice bothering you?”
“No, sir. Everything is fine.”
“Good. Then let’s move out.”
I nodded and Parker strode away down the hall. James started toward a door to the kitchen.
“Wait.” I took his arm but he snatched it away from me. “James—”
“I didn’t tell Monroe anything when I got back. Nothing. But if you’re planning to do something here—”
“I’m just trying to get home.”
“Fine,” he said. “Do it and leave us alone.”
James shoved the door open and disappeared into the kitchen. I wanted to tell him what I thought of a kitchen boy’s smug superiority, but then a single thought came from nowhere and stopped me dead.
It’s because of me.
There was no one in Cormorant more on Path than James, and yet he had been stripped of his place as a valet and hauled across the country to scrape food off trays. How better to humiliate the brother of a traitor? It wasn’t Monroe who had done this to him, it wasn’t the Path, it was me.
I backed away from the door. I had done enough to James. It was time to leave him alone.
A cheer broke out down the hallway. I left the mess as the hall filled with soldiers. I joined the stream, bouncing from officer to officer.
“Sir!” I said. “Sir, what’s going on?”
A major grinned mid-stride. His hand found my shoulder. “It’s about over, son,” he said. “We just punched a hole in the Fed’s lines north of Richmond. We’re taking territory faster than we can secure it!”
“Philadelphia?”
“We’re on our way!”
I eased out of the flood of bodies and into a nearby doorway. The major ran a key card through a reader next to a set of double doors down the hall. He stepped through and before the doors could close, I saw banks of computer screens and the dark silhouettes of soldiers. In the middle of it was Nathan Hill.
“Roe!”
Parker was standing beside an open door. Inside was a small room with a table and two chairs. On the far side of the table was Nat, her wrists cuffed and secured to the table.