AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Heartroot would do. See if you can't get me a few eyeroots, would your"
"Good luck, my old friend. I can't tell you how good it is to see you again," Valentine said.
"When matters are settled in these mountains, you will see me again. Chance is not yet done playing with us."
With that, he turned and loped rather heavily off to the east into the woods, his men running to keep up. Valentine wondered what another brigade, three thousand strong or more, of Golden Ones could accomplish if led by his old friend.
* * * *
The column had turned for Javelin. They were mounting a small force on armored trucks.
Valentine wondered what the urgency was and requested that they make contact with base.
"Javelin's hung up at a bridge crossing. I can't get a warning through-there's some kind of jamming," the com tech reported.
"Moytana, try to delay those vehicles. Avoid a fight if you can. Block the road with trees at some gap."
"I'll see what I can do, sir. Looks like they're taking several routes, though."
The Moondagger column had turned into a hydra. One head crawled up a ridge, trying to get to the next valley over. A second was turning northeast, perhaps to get around behind Javelin.
"Send your fastest messenger back to headquarters with a warn-ing. I think we can guess their route well enough. I'll follow as best as can.
"Yes, sir," Moytana said, calling for his runner.
A boy of sixteen or seventeen-so it seemed to Valentine- answered the call. He carried an assault rifle that made him look even more like a child playing at war. It was a good old Atlanta Gunworks Type 3.
"Here, I'll carry that back to brigade for you, son," Valentine said, wanting the gun's angry bark.
Valentine took a slightly different path on the long road back than the boy. He angled off to the west, to see what that column marching across the ridge intended to do.
There was plenty of daylight left. If the Moondaggers were daylight fighters, it was all the better. His men would worry more about inflicting damage on the enemy and less about what might be lurking in the woods.
He topped another rise, puffing. No one was there to see him take a knee and dig around for a handkerchief to wipe off the summer sweat. His pits and crotch stuck and chaffed.
Legworm leather breathed well, but there were limits to any material.
The west-most column looked to have found the road they were looking for. It wasn't in good shape at all, a broken surface with fully grown trees erupting from parts of the pavement. Of course men trav-eling on foot without heavy weapons could easily find a path. It looked as though the deer had already made one.
He checked his bearings and picked a target on the next ridge north in the direction of headquarters.
Valentine ran down the opposite side of his ridge from the col-umn, firing first his machine pistol, then the deeper bark of the Type 3. Every now and then he broke up the sound with a longer burst.
The phantom firefight might just turn the Moondaggers aside from their path to investigate.
How well they could track and read shell casings was anyone's guess.
What counted at this point was delay.
* * * *
Valentine came to the Turky Neck bridge, approaching along the eastern bank, and found chaos.
The river ran beneath deep, sculpted banks-Valentine guessed they were a flood prevention measure. Bluffs to the south frowned down on the slight river bend.
The old metal-frame highway bridge had been dynamited, quite incompetently, resulting in no more than the loss of some road bed and a few piles of paving. Bloom had sensibly sent several companies across to secure the far bank. But light mortar shells were now falling at the rate of one a minute all around the bridge area, keeping crews from covering the damage with timber and iron.
Legworms might be able to get across, but not trucks, vehicles, and horse and mule drawn carts. The brigade could cross, even through this shell fire, but would leave the supply train behind.
