way above the tree line for the third time and set to work lighting another fire. As sparks set fire to the tuft of wool, he added bark and twigs. Soon the dry tinder was alight, and he added a few larger sticks. He topped those with a green conifer branch, creating thick white smoke. He scurried back down into the trees and hurried ahead to repeat the process farther up the valley.
On the opposite side of the valley, two of Death’s crew were lumbering through the forest. “Hey, Skinny. What do you make of that?” said the first man. He stood, staring into the distance and pointed across the valley. Several spirals of smoke were winding into the air above the tree line. He looked at Skinny to see if he saw them too.
The enormous man who answered to “Skinny” was sweating profusely and not amused by anything that made him fall farther behind the others. At least they weren’t climbing any more. That had been brutal to say the least. If it hadn’t been for a very healthy fear of his boss, he would have given up miles ago.
“What are you talking about?” He grumbled, and he looked in the direction the smaller man was pointing. “What is tha..” He started to say, but couldn’t finish.
The smaller man, still staring at the smoke, heard the sickening crunch of metal slamming into bone. He turned just in time to see a steel blade protruding from Skinny’s mouth as another slammed through his own eye socket and into his brain.
Both men fell to the ground without a word. Chase pulled the knives free and cut each man’s throat for good measure before stripping their weapons and disappearing back into the forest.
Chase ran hard. He wrapped the swords and knives in his shirt to quiet them from rattling, but he still felt as if he was creating too much noise. No matter, he had to beat the others to the homestead. He shoved the fatigue and uncertainty he felt down deep inside and ran on, faster.
Intermittently, he stopped and took the time to look, listen, and smell for the enemy. It was a skill he had learned during the grueling campaigns he marched in for the King. Knowing your enemy’s position before he knows yours gives a distinct advantage in any battle. Chase saw nothing but still forest. He heard nothing but his own labored breathing and blood pounding in his ears. He smelled and tasted blood, but that was also from exertion and possibly the business of gathering weapons.
He ran on.
On the other side of the Valley, Guy was racing as well. He worked his way down onto the valley floor where the footing was more certain, and he pushed himself harder than ever. The hitch in his gait was imperfect, and he was not fast by any measure, but his will was iron. He stumbled and fell often. He jumped up and ran on, ignoring the cuts and bruises, the pain and frustration. As he ran, he thought of Gretchen. He thought of what those men would do to the young girl they had seen at the homestead. Gretchen was about her age when they first met.
Guy felt panic surge up inside of him for the girl and he quickened his pace. He turned the fear into fuel, anger, and strength, and he pressed on.
Chapter Fifteen
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
Seth! You’d better take a look at this, said Lynn, as he squinted toward the western wall of the valley. In the past hour and a half, several small fires were started, above the tree line. Whoever was doing it wanted them to be seen, and more importantly, was steadily moving this way.
Seth walked calmly from the house and climbed the ladder next to the wood pile. He stepped up onto the shed roof with a grunt and looked in the same direction.
“Well now,” He muttered, in his gravelly voice. “That can’t be good.”
Lynn scanned the rest of the valley again. “It has to be a diversion of some kind,” he reasoned. He visually searched near and far for any sign of movement in the forest. “Now would be a good time to break out the welcome wagon.”
Seth turned and
On the opposite side of the valley, two of Death’s crew were lumbering through the forest. “Hey, Skinny. What do you make of that?” said the first man. He stood, staring into the distance and pointed across the valley. Several spirals of smoke were winding into the air above the tree line. He looked at Skinny to see if he saw them too.
The enormous man who answered to “Skinny” was sweating profusely and not amused by anything that made him fall farther behind the others. At least they weren’t climbing any more. That had been brutal to say the least. If it hadn’t been for a very healthy fear of his boss, he would have given up miles ago.
“What are you talking about?” He grumbled, and he looked in the direction the smaller man was pointing. “What is tha..” He started to say, but couldn’t finish.
The smaller man, still staring at the smoke, heard the sickening crunch of metal slamming into bone. He turned just in time to see a steel blade protruding from Skinny’s mouth as another slammed through his own eye socket and into his brain.
Both men fell to the ground without a word. Chase pulled the knives free and cut each man’s throat for good measure before stripping their weapons and disappearing back into the forest.
Chase ran hard. He wrapped the swords and knives in his shirt to quiet them from rattling, but he still felt as if he was creating too much noise. No matter, he had to beat the others to the homestead. He shoved the fatigue and uncertainty he felt down deep inside and ran on, faster.
Intermittently, he stopped and took the time to look, listen, and smell for the enemy. It was a skill he had learned during the grueling campaigns he marched in for the King. Knowing your enemy’s position before he knows yours gives a distinct advantage in any battle. Chase saw nothing but still forest. He heard nothing but his own labored breathing and blood pounding in his ears. He smelled and tasted blood, but that was also from exertion and possibly the business of gathering weapons.
He ran on.
On the other side of the Valley, Guy was racing as well. He worked his way down onto the valley floor where the footing was more certain, and he pushed himself harder than ever. The hitch in his gait was imperfect, and he was not fast by any measure, but his will was iron. He stumbled and fell often. He jumped up and ran on, ignoring the cuts and bruises, the pain and frustration. As he ran, he thought of Gretchen. He thought of what those men would do to the young girl they had seen at the homestead. Gretchen was about her age when they first met.
Guy felt panic surge up inside of him for the girl and he quickened his pace. He turned the fear into fuel, anger, and strength, and he pressed on.
Chapter Fifteen
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
Seth! You’d better take a look at this, said Lynn, as he squinted toward the western wall of the valley. In the past hour and a half, several small fires were started, above the tree line. Whoever was doing it wanted them to be seen, and more importantly, was steadily moving this way.
Seth walked calmly from the house and climbed the ladder next to the wood pile. He stepped up onto the shed roof with a grunt and looked in the same direction.
“Well now,” He muttered, in his gravelly voice. “That can’t be good.”
Lynn scanned the rest of the valley again. “It has to be a diversion of some kind,” he reasoned. He visually searched near and far for any sign of movement in the forest. “Now would be a good time to break out the welcome wagon.”
Seth turned and
Similar Books
