Tool

Chapter Fourteen

In a long, straggling line, the brigands made their way through the landscape. After a while, Aurelia stopped thinking. She had to. Thinking led her to inescapable conclusions she didn't like, such as the fact that she still had no plan to get away. At least her feet had been untied. But with a heavy pack and a flat, bleak landscape, there was nowhere for her to run to.

She put one foot in front of the other, time after time. Her breathing suit hissed. She moved mechanically, her eyes on the pack of the man in front of her. All she could do was keep moving. They stopped once at around lunchtime, she judged. Each person was given a water canister, and they sat for a few minutes. It was long enough to drink but not long enough for aching muscles to seize up and stiffen. Then they were on their way again.

When they finally stopped to camp, it was late into the evening. There was no cooking, only dry rations.

"How long will this take?" Aurelia asked Garda, who was overseeing her arrange their tent.

"Couple of weeks," he said. "Maybe more."

Two weeks of walking like this. Groaning, Aurelia got onto the bed. Again she was glad for her breathing suit. Sure, it protected her from Garda, but it also meant she couldn't see the damage done to her shoulders. She could feel the fabric sticking to her skin, though, but she couldn't see blood.

***

It happened on the fifth day. The line had been marching out as usual, when at around mid-morning there was a small commotion. Aurelia stopped and glanced around her, having to look twice before she could finally make out the shapes of men on the horizon. Kardem quickly took charge. Packs were dropped, and a handful of men followed Kardem off in the direction of the figures. Meanwhile, the others stayed and ate and drank, preparing themselves to either set up camp or flee in an instant, whichever was necessary.

Aurelia welcomed the chance to rest. She thought of Nicholas—of what would happen to him now. She thought about Jonathon, of how worried he must be. Her mind went to Elza and Tara, the only people who knew where she was, although of course they didn't know what had happened to her. As far as she could tell, her situation was pretty impossible unless she could find a way to contact the dome or escape. But her legs were still shackled when they were in camp. And besides, after a steady fourteen hours of walking, she didn't think she'd get too far if she tried to run away.

She was still sitting, propped against her pack, when figures appeared again on the horizon. This time they seemed to be running, and behind them trailed an unidentifiable clump of movement. The others stood and picked up their packs, ready to move out as soon as their comrades reached them. It was only when the first running figure got close enough to be heard that they dropped everything.

The figure was panting and sweating under his suit, but eventually he made himself understood. "Ambush."

Garda stepped up to the front. "How many injured?" he said.

The panting figure took a few more breaths. "The ambush parties are all down. Out of us, just a couple. But one bad."

The unidentifiable clump of movement was now close enough that Aurelia could make out two figures supporting someone between them. The limp man in the center was big and tall, and she realized she knew who it was.

"Kardem's hurt bad," said the runner. "Real bad."

"Put the tents up," ordered Garda. "We stay here."

The men began to quickly but methodically set up camp, and Aurelia pushed her pack into a pile of others before rushing to catch up with Garda, who was walking quickly towards the invalid party.