She turned and dangled her foot below, groping until she bumped the seam she’d climbed. Bracing her good arm on the edge, she worked her way down until she couldn’t go farther without extending her injured arm. Probably half the distance was left. Far enough that landing might hurt, but she shouldn’t break anything.
A sudden wave of dizziness washed over her. Getting down was taking too long. With a deep breath, she braced against the rock before pushing off. She jumped the remaining distance—collapsing on impact. Her legs took the bulk of the force while pain stabbed her arm and shoulder. She fell to her knees, scraping them open on a half-buried sharp rock. With every part of her now sore, she lay on the muddy ground waiting for the newest pain to subside to a tolerable level.
Lissa allowed herself a count of ten, gritted her teeth, picked herself up, and collected her pack. Sweat ran down her face, and a wave of heat passed over her, and she grew dizzy. Her stomach lurched. With no more warning, she heaved the contents of her stomach beside the stone formation. Twice more she threw up before she felt settled enough to continue.
Afterward, hands shaking, she rinsed her mouth and spat. After a second quick rinse, she downed half the contents of her canteen and then slung it over her uninjured shoulder. Then, with a deep, stabbing breath, she threaded only her right arm through the straps of her pack and lifted its weight up before awkwardly clipping the waist belt.
The click sounded loud in the silence.
She took her bearings and walked north along the patched road, her boots heavy and her muscles beyond aching. Her legs shook as she somehow stumbled forward. She clenched her jaw and kept going on willpower alone. If she stopped before she found help, she would die.
At first, the night seemed pitch black but soon stars popped overhead and a brilliant three-quarter moon rose, casting a ghostly glow on the countryside. She used the light to navigate, still moving slower than she’d like. In the moonlight, she glanced at the dark patches on her makeshift bandage, unable to tell if her wound had bled through. Maybe it was just smeared with blood from her hands.
At last, Lissa reached the dirt road again and headed in the direction where she expected xTerra. Her uneven steps grew slower, and her balance grew more unsteady as she plodded through the night. Before she’d been shot, she estimated she had two to three miles remaining, so she gritted her teeth and continued.
The silence pressed in, the only sounds being her labored breathing and what her tired feet made crunching through the random patches of gravel. Sticky with drying blood, she shivered, unable to get warm. Maybe she was in shock. Convulsing, she kept moving, focusing on one step at a time.
When at last she spotted a dim yellow light ahead, scalding tears of relief slipped down her icy cheeks. She shuddered and pressed onward, her world shrinking to reaching the light. Agate appeared out of the darkness. It blocked the road, and a massive rock wall stretched out on either side, disappearing into the shadows.
In the moonlight, she made out a sign stretched out above the gate: Vita xTerra.
The light shone from the windows of the building on the other side. Another tear slipped down her cheek. She’d made it.
“Hello.” Her voice emerged weak, a whisper nobody would hear. She tried again with the same result. At the end of her strength, she staggered against the gate, shaking one of the iron bars, the metal cold in her grasp. It didn’t move or rattle. She was so close. “Hello.” She still wasn’t loud enough. Stooping, holding the gate, Lissa grabbed a fist-size rock. Heart in her throat, she banged it against the metal, the sound loud and jarring. She repeated the motion.
Several long seconds later, the door to the gatehouse flew open. Someone stood outlined, peering into the darkness. Once more, she tried to speak, but nothing emerged. Black spots swam in her vision, and her knees shook, her legs like Jello. With the last of her energy, she tapped the rock against the gate again. The shadowy figure outlined in the doorway stepped forward, holding a rifle.
“Anyone out here?” Cam’s familiar voice said. He must not be able to see her as he stepped from the light. “Identify yourself.”
Tears flooded her eyes, and she dropped the rock. It rolled to the ground with a thunk.
“Step back from the gate.” He advanced, his gun steady.
She wobbled backward two tiny steps, her legs now too weak to hold her upright. Her vision blurred, and her knees folded as she collapsed. A pebble poked against her cheek, but she couldn’t shift. She’d made it here, and Cam would help. With a sigh, she closed her eyes.
From far away, Cam’s voice spoke, his words garbled. They became more urgent as he drew closer. Her eyelids fluttered, but she couldn’t open them. Her whole body felt heavy. The gate clanked, an echo of sound. Then nothing as everything faded to black.
Chapter 20: Cam
Cam had been on edge for the last two hours. Each time a patrol returned safely since his brother had been killed a month ago, he lost some of his built-up tension. Tonight, he should be relieved, but he couldn’t settle. Perhaps because today’s border patrol returned, reporting gunshots only a few miles away. The Slains might plan another move soon. With night falling, the four-member watch patrol had turned around without checking into the disturbance.
For the last few months, the Watch hadn’t had direct confrontations with the Slains, but the distant sounds of guns firing had become common, reminding those at xTerra of the ever-present danger beyond their borders. This evening’s action had been too damn close. He threw himself onto the couch with his latest book as the other four men on the evening shift played poker, a nightly ritual.
Cam attempted to read, finding himself restarting the same page multiple times, but the story made little sense with his brain somewhere else. The nagging sensation that something was wrong kept him restless and from enjoying his book.
Setting down his battered paperback, he stood and stared out the window. He couldn’t see anything beyond the pool of light cast through the Outpost’s window. He listened for more trouble. Perhaps because he was paying close attention, fromoutside came the distinct clank against the iron gate—not the rattle of the chain xTerra’s occupants used—a repeated dull banging. His heart rate increased. Perhaps it was just the wind, or maybe a trick to lure the guards outside. The sound paused for ten seconds, then repeated several times before silence returned.
Still, he couldn’t ignore the low, deliberate tapping. “Someone’s out there. I’m going to check it out.” He grabbed a weapon and headed for the front door.
At the poker table, Dave dropped his cards, cracked his knuckles, and followed Cam.
The other guards stopped playing, watching as he opened the door, rifle in hand. He paused at the threshold. Nothing happened, and he was met with a regular night, without suspicious sounds. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair as he stared at the inky black sprinkled with stars, the moon mostly hidden behind the trees. He waited, straining at the silence, still paused at the threshold. It was too quiet.
Cam squinted until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He cocked his head, still listening. When nobody shot or spoke, he frowned. Maybe the tension was getting to him. He inhaled the fresh scents of damp air and thawing earth. The noise must have been his imagination.
Just in case, he waited another heartbeat before taking a step, peering into the shadows beyond the gate. “Anyone out here?” His voice projected into the night without provoking an answer. He tapped his foot. An owl hooted to the left and was answered by another further away.
No one came forward, so he turned for inside, when the metallic sound came again, quieter than before but distinctive as it pierced the night.
