It had taken Mike and Jackson two days to reach their current camp and they were at least eighty kilometers from anything resembling civilization. The dark granite mountains towered around them and the trees grew thick and heavy. They had set up camp next to a quick-flowing river which meandered through the trees and around a bend as it stretched to the south.
Mike and Jackson had spent the last several years working together, and most of that had been aboard ship. It had been a while since either of them had gotten a chance to refresh their wilderness survival skills and they were enjoying themselves. There was a trail system than ran throughout the wilderness area, but they had left that fairly soon for two reasons. First, they wanted to practice their land navigation skills in the heavy forest and mountains. In terrain this rough, it would be a challenge without the advanced tech they usually had at their disposal. It was always a good idea to know how to get things done without it. Equipment failed or got damaged. If that happened, you needed to know how to make do. The second reason was that they didn’t want to make it easy for any team trailing them. The tracking chips all marines carried would make them relatively easy to find, but that didn’t mean they had to make it easy to get to them. As an added bonus, the heavy tree cover would interfere with the signal. There were ways to completely block it, but they didn’t want to appear as deliberately evading pursuit. As far as anyone was concerned, they were just a couple of jar heads out to have a good time and get in touch with nature.
They were currently attempting several different ways to catch the native fish, which were more aggressive than their earth counterparts and had more in common with sharks. Great care had to be taken not to lose bite-size chunks of flesh from any appendage close to the water. They’d tried regular fishing line first, but the fish’s razor sharp teeth had cut right through. Jackson had caught one by luck when he stepped too close to the riverbank and nearly lost a toe to one that jumped out of the water for breakfast. The jump had landed the fish on the bank where Jackson had quickly retaliated with a large boot. The meat was good, and after having eaten one, they decided the taste was worth another try. They weren’t keen on using themselves as bait again, so Mike came up with the idea to dangle a piece of meat to lure more of the fish onto the bank, where they could be dispatched with another boot or rock.
Their scheme worked well, and after twenty minutes they had enough fish for a large lunch. Mike skinned the fish and Jackson made a small fire, cutting several sticks to use as spits.
“How long do you think it will take for them to find us?” Jackson asked as he blew the embers into flame.
“Depends on who they send after us. Never, if they send station security.”
Jackson chuckled.
“Those guys couldn’t find their own ass with both hands. Can you imagine those guys out here? I’d pay good money to see that.”
Mike laughed with him. No one liked station security and while they may know their station, there was no way they’d be able to operate in a wilderness environment. They didn’t have the skills and they didn’t have the equipment. For that matter, there were a good many marines that wouldn’t be able to do it either. They may have gotten the basic wilderness survival, but that wasn’t enough for most who’d been born and bred in the city and then spent most of their careers in space. You could throw them in the forest for a week and they probably wouldn’t die, but unless they’d been planet-side in some kind of conflict or received specialized training, they wouldn’t be able to track two marines who knew their way around a forest.
They’d both been deployed to combat zones that required the kind of skills they were currently using. They knew how to navigate, feed themselves, and make shelter with minimal gear. They also knew how to track a man, cover their own back trail, and set traps. They hadn’t tried to hide their own trail, though they had set a few false trails to make it seem like they didn’t know what they were doing and to drag out the pursuit.
Mike handed Jackson the fish he’d been working on, which he spitted and began turning over their small fire.
“My guess is they’ll send someone who knows what they’re doing. Spec ops or something.” He finished the second fish and laid it out on a rock that was relatively clear of dirt.
“How do you think Taft and Abena are getting along with Rayne?”
He let out a heavy sigh.
“I don’t know, Jackson. I think that may have been one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. I’m worried as hell.”
“It was a good call, Mike. Risky, but a good call.”
“You think so?” He swiped the fish guts out with his fingers and flung them into the water.
“Look. We talked this through before we split up. There were only two people that could handle Rayne at all, and with the psych doctor watching her like a hawk, there was no way it could be Lena. It had to be Abena.”
“I know. Don’t get me wrong, Abena’s a good hand, but she’s not Lena. And Taft…” He left the rest unsaid.
“Yeah, Taft has some issues, but he has the skills needed for the job. You remember that time he fooled station security with that disguise, and then stole all their liquor? Or hacked the station’s personnel records to get that girl’s name so he could ask her out? The kid has the skills, Mike, and sometimes you gotta take the leash off and see what they’ll do.”
“I know, but if Rayne loses it, neither one of them is going to be able to stop it.”
“That’s a risk. It’s always been the risk, but if we’re committed to helping this girl out then we gotta take it.”
The first fish was cooked and Jackson began pulling the hot meat from the bones with his fingers and putting it in his mouth. Mike finished gutting the next fish and put it over the fire.
“You know what the captain’s plan is?” Jackson licked the juice from his fingers.
“No, he wouldn’t tell me. I guess the less I know, the better when they finally catch up to us.”
“How far do you think they’ll go with the questioning?” Jackson finished the last of his fish and tossed the bones into the nearby river. The sound of fish thrashing as they fought over the scraps could be heard over the sound of the water.
“I’m guessing it won’t be friendly or polite, whatever it is.” Mike grabbed his own fish off the fire and began eating, passing Jackson another.
“You think they’ll jack us in to the box?”
“Probably. From what the captain says, they really want Rayne, and if they’ll go so far as to send a team after us, then they’ll probably use the box.”
“Damn. I hate that thing.”
“No kidding.”
***
They’d hopped several trains and a few buses before finally reaching their destination in the sprawling suburbs surrounding Capital City. Abena had argued for a taxi service until Taft had pointed out that not only did they log all pick-up and drop-off points, but also snapped photos of the passengers. At least with public transportation, they had a chance of avoiding the surveillance cameras scattered throughout the streets, platforms and cars with the added advantage of using the crowds and their recently acquired hats to shield their faces.
Abena had been annoyed with Taft’s choice in clothes. He’d pulled the orange flowered and shapeless dress from the bag and tossed it to her with the comment that it was neither a tube top nor a mini skirt. It was two sizes too big and billowed like a sail on a ship. She’d stripped her uniform shirt off to the black tank top underneath and pulled the dress over her head; her black boots stood out in comic contrast. To add to her new look, Taft had tossed her a wide-brimmed sun hat made of some organic fiber native to Athena. It had a large blue flower that clashed with the color of the dress.
“You’re kidding, right?” She turned the hat over in her hands. “This was the best you could do?”
“It was on sale. What do you expect?”
“You stole it for
heaven’s sake, who cares if it was on sale? Try stealing from the cool rack next time.” She pulled the blue flower from the hat, tossed it in the bushes and jammed it on her head.
“Beggars can’t be choosers.” He took the uniform shirt she’d thrown at him and stuffed it in the shopping bags.
“What’d you get Rayne?” Abena glanced over to Rayne, who was sitting on the ground with her back against the wall. Her head was buried in her knees, her hands clasped tightly behind her head. Her knuckles were white from gripping each other.
“Here, try this.” He handed over a small bag. “I’ve got a couple of other things if that doesn’t work.” He stood where he was and remained on look out while Abena pulled the clothes from the bag and thought about how to approach Rayne without losing an arm. After looking at the clothes, she considered switching first. The ones Taft had given her for Rayne were considerably nicer, unlike the grandma clothes he’d given her. She turned an annoyed look at Taft, who returned an innocent expression.
“What?”
“Nothin’.” She approached Rayne cautiously, calling her name several times. After getting no response, she inched closer while continually repeating her name. She reached out tentatively and touched her lightly on the arm. One instant Rayne was there, and the next she was ten feet away crouched for an attack.
“Shit. Rayne!” She held up both hands, one with the clothes still clutched tightly. “Rayne!” She cursed repeatedly. Rayne was wild-eyed and on the edge of snapping. Fortunately, they were in a relatively quiet park off the beaten path and there were very few people. Abena put up a calm exterior even though inside she was nearly as panicked as Rayne.
“Rayne. No threat here. You’re safe. We’ve got some different clothes. Come on, girl. Ease up. There’s no attack.” She repeated the words several more times, hoping to see recognition in the girl’s eyes. For several long minutes there was nothing, and then the predatory stance vanished as Rayne fell to her knees with a look of wild panic in her eyes. She gulped and gasped for air, and the struggle for control was plain as she dug furrows in the ground with her fingers. Lena had always told her to focus on her breathing and Abena repeated those instructions now. She didn’t dare approach as Lena would have, but continued to give her directions from a distance until it was safe.
It was several more long minutes, before Rayne finally raised a tear-streaked face with some semblance of sanity in her eyes. Abena stepped cautiously forward with the clothes in hand and knelt quietly beside her.
“You okay now?”
Rayne replied with a nod of her head.
“Taft got us a change of clothes. Mine are damn ugly, but I think he managed to get you something half decent.” She helped Rayne strip off the uniform shirt and pull a knee length sun dress over her head. It was white and made of a nice homespun material, which Rayne smoothed with her fingers. They pulled the uniform pants off and put the boots back on since Taft hadn’t managed to steal any shoes. They added a short black jacket, highlighted in silver flowers and topped it off with a black cap that matched the jacket to hide her face and coarse black hair.
Abena stuffed Rayne’s uniform into the bags and walked to where Taft waited. She elbowed him hard in the ribs.
“Ow!”
“That’s for my dress.”
A half hour later found them walking down the brightly lit sidewalk of a quiet street with Taft in the lead and Rayne clutching Abena’s arm. Rayne was more relaxed now that they’d left the crowds behind, but still jumped at every sound and movement in the unfamiliar environment. The houses around them were an eclectic collection of styles, but they were all upper class homes and well kept. The neighborhood was full of mostly retirees who had the money to pay someone to do the work for them.
Taft finally turned off the sidewalk and through a metal gate surrounded by a low stone wall topped with softly glowing yellow lights. The small front yard was meticulously groomed, as were the shrubs and small trees that edged the lit perimeter of the small single story home. He knocked on the door while Abena and Rayne waited several steps back. After several minutes the door opened and they were greeted by a woman in her sixties with Asian features.
He smiled and introduced himself.
“Mrs. Yoshimura? I’m John. I spoke with you about the rental for the week.”
She smiled in return.
“Yes, Mr. Smith. Please come in. Are these the friends you spoke of?” She looked them over briefly, her eyes resting on Rayne, who held Abena’s arm tightly with her eyes closed while she breathed in and out in long, steady breaths.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Please come in. Take off your shoes, please.” They sat in the small entryway and removed their boots. Abena helped Rayne while she continued her focused breathing.
“Is your friend okay?” Mrs. Yoshimura asked with concern.
“Panic attacks.” Taft lied quickly. “She’ll be alright. She just needs some place quiet.”
Mrs. Yoshimura nodded thoughtfully and motioned the trio to follow her. The home was actually much bigger than the view from the street suggested. It was built on a single level with an open, center courtyard. The rooms, kitchen, dining and other living areas encircled the very traditional-looking Japanese garden glowing softly in the artificial lamplight. The grass and shrubs were as meticulously groomed as the front yard had been. Several stone pathways meandered through the garden and over a small, ornamental bridge to join at the center. There was a small waterfall that emptied into a pond containing brightly colored fish and humming bird like creatures circled the several feeders scattered throughout the courtyard. The center structure was the focal point of the garden. It was raised several feet off the ground and had a peaked, tile-covered roof. All four walls were open to the air with shutters pushed to the side that could be closed when not in use or when bad weather moved in. The floors were covered with the same straw mats as the rest of the home. “Tatami” Mrs. Yoshimura had called them. They were soft, yet firm, and felt wonderful to walk on in their stocking feet.
Abena looked in open-mouthed wonder as they walked through the garden paths.
“How the hell did you manage this?” She whispered.
“I like to call it creative acquisitioning. A little hacking here, a little misdirection there, and then the movement of funds to the account of a Mr. Smith…”
She held up her hand.
“Enough! I don’t won’t to know.”
Mrs. Yoshimura led them to the far end where they found two small, but nicely furnished rooms. The doors, like most in the home, were sliders which opened directly onto a walkway which circled the garden. The floors were of the same grass mats and each room contained an assortment of simple furnishings.
“Will these be satisfactory, Mr. Smith?”
“They’ll do nicely. Thank you so much.”
“Let me know if there is anything you require.” She bowed slightly and hurried off.
“Taft?”
“You should really call me John or you’ll ruin my cover,” he said as he looked inside their new room.
“Whatever,” she said as she looked around as if looking for something. “Where’s the beds?”
“There’s not supposed to be.” He grinned. “It’s traditional Japanese living.”
“They didn’t use beds?”
“No. They used a mat thing called a crouton or something.”
“Crouton? Isn’t that what you put on a salad?”
“I said, ‘or something’ okay. It’s something close to that anyway.”
“Where they at?”
“In that closet in the corner. They’re actually quite nice.”
Abena walked to the closet and slid it open. She pulled two rolled pads from the closet and laid them out flat. They were several inches thick, soft and comfortable. A clean fabric protector covered each and a heavy down comforter was used as a bl
anket. Abena pushed Taft out onto the walkway, slid the door shut and locked it. She helped Rayne get ready for bed and then shed the horrid looking orange tent she wore and fell fast asleep.
***
Sometimes Rayne dreamed of battle. Sometimes it was falling from the sky in her ship as it separated into burning pieces. Other times it was watching the worst moments of her life over and over again. Tonight, it was the latter and she was forced to relive the moments of her mother and father’s death. She’d relived these moments so many times, she ceased to cry out in her sleep, but the tears still came and she sobbed into her soft pillow to cover the noise. Even with her eyes open, the nightmares still flashed before her eyes. She was awake, wasn’t she? So why wouldn’t it stop? Rayne tried to rock herself back and forth and concentrated on breathing slow and even, but the images flowed through her head like the ocean tides. It came strong and loud one moment as it threatened to scatter her sanity to the wind. The next, it was a whisper that was barely heard but no less disturbing.
Rayne slipped from her covers and stood. She pulled her dress on and stepped quietly into the night air hoping it would clear her head. Insects buzzed quietly from the darkness as she sat and dangled her legs from the walk way and brushed her toes on a small section of neatly groomed rocks. The garden lights had been mostly extinguished, but Athena’s bright moons had both risen and cast a soft silver light to see by. The nightmare images continued to rise and fall through her mind and she tried to calm her breathing amidst the tears and sobs that threatened to overtake her.
She rocked herself forward and back, taking deep breaths of the cool night air until her brain warned of movement from the corner of the compound. The predator in her clawed its way to the front. Rayne pulled her legs under her and tracked the figure through the moonlit paths. It was a man. Only one, thin and bent with age. His bald head reflected the moons’ light as he shuffled slowly down the garden’s path. Rayne tracked his progress across several different spectrums and kept monitoring the surroundings for ambush. Her nightmare was nearly forgotten, but still pushed insistently at the back of her mind. The man reached the center structure and slowly, painfully climbed the few steps to reach the open floor. Rayne pinged her surroundings. She tracked several night birds, but nothing else moved except for Taft who rolled over restlessly on the floor of his room.