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“We took the bolster from that container and had just enough time to toss it on when the explosion happened.”
Henry looked at the area where the explosion had taken place by shining his flashlight on it. “You likely set the explosion off with the bolster, but it sure would have been a lot worse if you hadn’t tossed it on.”
“We didn’t know if they had it on a timer or if something else would trigger it.”
“Good call.”
Spencer began carefully inspecting the end of the container, in case there was more. Henry inspected the opposite end, and he followed the path the BRR kid followed up the hill. He checked his phone and saw it had been a little more than an hour since the blast. He and Tate must have been knocked out for a bit. That would explain his headache.
He shone his light on the path of trampled weeds and brush the kid followed, looking for any traces of more explosives, timers, or wires. The cool crisp air felt good, the tall brush helped to dust him off.
He saw the footprints across the road and scooted across and into the woods. There was blood on the ground, and he followed that trail for a few feet. A bloody piece of metal lay in the path and he picked it up. It was sharp and looked as though it had imbedded itself in the kid who ran from the explosion. He kind of deserved it, the little fucker.
He shined his light around the area and wondered if Elena had gotten the basket. He didn’t have time to search there. The others would be waiting for him, but he bet she’d heard the explosion. Likely the entire town and mountain did.
Heaving out a big breath, Aidyn turned toward the base, looking for anything else that he could bring down.
His teammates and Officer Bradley were on this side of the container, their lights shining on it and the damage when he neared.
Spencer turned, “Did you find anything?”
“I found a bloody piece of shrapnel and a blood trail. He got hit with some of whatever he filled the bomb with.”
Henry pointed his light at the side of the container. “Metal. A lot of it. Good thing this was between you and Tate.”
Pieces of metal had speared the side of the container. Some of the holes were bigger than his head, where the bulk of the shrapnel had hit. The heavy rubber bolster lay in a heap close to where they’d tossed it. A chill ran down his spine.
ChapterTwelve
Elena spent the morning boiling the plants she needed in heavy pots over the fire. Her brewing station was under a large pavilion-like structure to keep rain out of the brew, covered, yet open so workers helping her could carry wood and sugar in to her without dealing with doors. Also, this early part of the brew was the most dangerous. Toxic chemicals filled the air. She wore heavy coverings over her nose and mouth to keep from inhaling the fumes. Anyone approaching during this stage did the same.
She labored at a workbench built along one side of the semi-structure. Her plants and herbs were separated out and she currently used a large knife to cut mandrake and other plants into smaller pieces, so they used every inch of the plants. No one was to touch the plants except her. Mostly because some of them were actually deadly if ingested in raw form. Somehow, they always procured rubber gloves for her to wear while working in the earliest stages of the brew.
The bubbling behind her grew in intensity and she knew it was time to drop the mandrake into the water. She waited as Cole Honeycutt and Brayden Lowe stacked the wood they’d brought into the area. She didn’t like their presence while she brewed. They were both on Craig’s council and she felt judged by them. There was no particular reason why. Lately, she felt that way about anyone associated with Craig. They all wanted war with the citizens below and they exuded hate and anger.
After they walked away, she hung her yellow flag on the outside of the structure, letting everyone know this was not the time to come near. It was her favorite time. Prying eyes would stay away and she could work in peace.
She saw everyone outside turn and enter their cabins and she was glad she wore a face covering because they couldn’t see her smile.
She scraped her mandrake and herbs together into an old metal pot, one she’d used for years now and her mom before her. Then she shook the pot over the boiling water and let them fall inside. Repeating this for the other two boiling pots, she worked slowly and methodically. It was work she’d done for years and she was good at it. She loved being alone. No one to direct. No one to ask questions of her. No one to feel as though she were performing. Though, she had no doubt, they were watching from their windows.
After dropping in the herbs one by one, she stirred each pot and added water as needed. This would continue for a few hours, boiling the juices and extracts from the plants. She’d add more throughout the day and tomorrow, these pots would be strained of the bits and pieces that didn’t boil down and she’d begin the slow process of adding the sugar.
After she stopped for the evening, the pots would be covered, and the water inside would rest. It was during that time she’d retire to her cabin, eat something, and sneak down to leave her basket for Aidyn.
Her tummy flipped when she thought about him. He’d given her cookies. Beautiful cookies. Other than her parents and one man up here who tried to woo her years ago, she didn’t get gifts. Certainly not something as delicious as those cookies were. She sadly broke them into small pieces so she could take a little bite throughout the day. She carried them in her apron right now. Close to her body and safe from anyone else seeing them. Aidyn’s note was tucked into her shoe. She should have burned it in the fireplace last night, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. He had great handwriting. It was neat and though she struggled with a couple of the words, she could read it.
She moved calmly to the next pot and stirred, lost in thought. It was her purpose for being up here and earning her keep. She knew nothing else and that made her sad. She was stuck here. At least for as long as her mom was alive. After that, she’d see. Maybe she could cook for another town. She’d have to get there. Maybe Aidyn would be willing to help her. She nurtured that thought for a while because it kept her mind occupied while she stirred. Moving to the third pot, she repeated her stirring.
Once all pots were stirred, she added wood to each fire and jumped when she noticed Theresa at the edge of the shelter.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I brought you lunch. You’ve been out here a long time.”
Theresa laid a plate, covered with a towel, on the end of the workbench.
“Thank you, Theresa. I appreciate it.”
“Of course. Thank you for brewing and helping us all out. We appreciate you and your dedication to us.”
