murmured, remaining quiet for the benefit of the sleeping bundle in his arms. Sean and Sara pulled on their winter gear and packs. “Sean!” Asher whispered fiercely. “ Please tell us what you find right away. Even if…”
He didn’t finish his thought , but he didn’t have to.
“I will .” Sean understood. The not knowing was killing them all.
------------Darryl------------
“Up, Liars!”
Darryl’s eyes flew open as a boot shoved him in the back . Pain shot through his mouth and he tasted copper. He pried open his eyes, crusted with the tears that he couldn’t seem to stop. They streamed from his eyes at all hours in this arctic air. He spat into the snow and grunted, unsurprised to see the bright spot of red. He must have bitten his tongue when they kicked him.
Something soft brushed his face and he shook his head, clearing his vision and registering the white feathers floating from above . The snowflakes were so fat that some were the size of a man’s palm. They landed without sound. In fact, each one that landed seemed to suck sound from the world, turning down the volume one flake at a time until his own thoughts were louder than the world around him.
Crap . His heart sank. This heavy a snow would definitely cover their tracks. And after being trucked down the river to the crossing as far as they were, they were going to have to pray that the Seeders were not only on their trail, but had found the breadcrumbs they’d left.
Around him people groaned as the “Angels” continued the rounds, rousing them . The sky was a soft dove color with stars still twinkling between the clouds. The “Angels” always insisted on moving from first light to last. The only upside to that, he thought, shivering as he peeled himself away from the human pile in which he’d been sleeping, was that moving was warmer than not moving.
Now, he had to find the latrine and collect the rations . But first, he managed a smile, despite his throbbing tongue, first he had to start his day.
Since they’d been marching he and Georgie had upped the ante on their relationship . Not in the way most people would have thought. In his case it meant the little things: the getting rations for one another and each saving the last sip of water for the other, the knowing glances and intertwined fingers tucked inside a single mitten at night, the shoulder and foot massages. It was one hundred ways that people say “I love you” without saying a word.
And then, there were his favorite words . Every morning (because he was the lighter sleeper and nearly always rose first) he would shake her gently awake and say, “Good morning, Georgie. The day is waiting just for you.” It never failed to bring a smile. He turned where he sat to rouse her and stifled a cry.
One of their captors was crouched over her, his eyes darting around him as he reached for her . Georgina slumbered still, her ears muffled by the long scarf wrapped around her head. Darryl’s hand jerked forward and grabbed the creep’s wrist just before it reached her neck. “Don’t.”
He ’d meant for his voice to carry a warning, but it trembled as he stared into those blank eyes. They narrowed as the man ripped his wrist away. Georgina awoke, her eyes bulging as she scrambled backward, pulling Kiara with her.
“You just made a mistake, Liar.” The man drew back his fist.
Darryl cringed, but , as if life were on some psychotic repeat, a hand reached out and grabbed the man’s wrist just before it connected with his face.
“Stop it, Cecil.” The giant the colonists dubbed “The Ghost” gripped Darryl’s would-be attacker, eliciting a yelp. “Quiet, you moron!” The larger man shoved Cecil. “How many times do I have to tell you? Be fast, be quiet, and keep your hands to yourself.”
“But, Silas…” Cecil stopped, silenced by Silas’ glare. He nodded, his jaw twitching. “Got it.”
“You’d better,” Silas said . “Because if you disobey a direct
He didn’t finish his thought , but he didn’t have to.
“I will .” Sean understood. The not knowing was killing them all.
------------Darryl------------
“Up, Liars!”
Darryl’s eyes flew open as a boot shoved him in the back . Pain shot through his mouth and he tasted copper. He pried open his eyes, crusted with the tears that he couldn’t seem to stop. They streamed from his eyes at all hours in this arctic air. He spat into the snow and grunted, unsurprised to see the bright spot of red. He must have bitten his tongue when they kicked him.
Something soft brushed his face and he shook his head, clearing his vision and registering the white feathers floating from above . The snowflakes were so fat that some were the size of a man’s palm. They landed without sound. In fact, each one that landed seemed to suck sound from the world, turning down the volume one flake at a time until his own thoughts were louder than the world around him.
Crap . His heart sank. This heavy a snow would definitely cover their tracks. And after being trucked down the river to the crossing as far as they were, they were going to have to pray that the Seeders were not only on their trail, but had found the breadcrumbs they’d left.
Around him people groaned as the “Angels” continued the rounds, rousing them . The sky was a soft dove color with stars still twinkling between the clouds. The “Angels” always insisted on moving from first light to last. The only upside to that, he thought, shivering as he peeled himself away from the human pile in which he’d been sleeping, was that moving was warmer than not moving.
Now, he had to find the latrine and collect the rations . But first, he managed a smile, despite his throbbing tongue, first he had to start his day.
Since they’d been marching he and Georgie had upped the ante on their relationship . Not in the way most people would have thought. In his case it meant the little things: the getting rations for one another and each saving the last sip of water for the other, the knowing glances and intertwined fingers tucked inside a single mitten at night, the shoulder and foot massages. It was one hundred ways that people say “I love you” without saying a word.
And then, there were his favorite words . Every morning (because he was the lighter sleeper and nearly always rose first) he would shake her gently awake and say, “Good morning, Georgie. The day is waiting just for you.” It never failed to bring a smile. He turned where he sat to rouse her and stifled a cry.
One of their captors was crouched over her, his eyes darting around him as he reached for her . Georgina slumbered still, her ears muffled by the long scarf wrapped around her head. Darryl’s hand jerked forward and grabbed the creep’s wrist just before it reached her neck. “Don’t.”
He ’d meant for his voice to carry a warning, but it trembled as he stared into those blank eyes. They narrowed as the man ripped his wrist away. Georgina awoke, her eyes bulging as she scrambled backward, pulling Kiara with her.
“You just made a mistake, Liar.” The man drew back his fist.
Darryl cringed, but , as if life were on some psychotic repeat, a hand reached out and grabbed the man’s wrist just before it connected with his face.
“Stop it, Cecil.” The giant the colonists dubbed “The Ghost” gripped Darryl’s would-be attacker, eliciting a yelp. “Quiet, you moron!” The larger man shoved Cecil. “How many times do I have to tell you? Be fast, be quiet, and keep your hands to yourself.”
“But, Silas…” Cecil stopped, silenced by Silas’ glare. He nodded, his jaw twitching. “Got it.”
“You’d better,” Silas said . “Because if you disobey a direct
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