Chapter 5 Cam
Cam held his rifle steady, not quite aimed at the woman he’d followed to the edge of the bluff overlooking the meadow.
He kept his gaze steady and his face impassive, not wanting to startle her into a sudden move despite his abrupt words.
He’d glimpsed her yesterday in the woods, but she’d disappeared from below his platform blind before he’d approached.
One thing was certain: she wasn’t with the Slains.
From what he’d observed over the years, they kept their women at their home compound.
Now, the woman stared at him—amber eyes giving nothing away.
She was younger than he would have guessed at first glance, likely late twenties or early thirties.
What the hell was she doing out here alone?
Perhaps she had people nearby or was with a group passing through.
He subtly shifted his weight from one foot to the other as they watched one another, now frozen like statues.
He’d hoped to shock a response from her, but no such luck. Maybe her frustrating lack of expression was how his stone-walled gaze appeared to others. If eyes were the window to the soul, she kept hers shuttered.
“You’re not one of ours, and you’re not one of theirs either.” Cam kept his voice low. He didn’t want to frighten her more. Perhaps his original gruff comment had been a mistake. His words seemed to break a spell.
She scrambled to her feet and backed away.
“Don’t go,” he said, holding up a hand. “I won’t hurt you.
I just want to talk. I’m from Vita xTerra.
Are you with a group?” She didn’t reply, edging further away, with no sign of recognition at xTerra’s name.
Unusual these days. “I haven’t seen anyone on their own in a long time.
” He followed his instincts and dropped his rifle, the sling keeping it on his person as he held his palms facing her.
Perhaps his show of trust would help her feel safe enough to speak.
She spun, sprinting into the forest. Without hesitating, he chased, running through the sparse trees and pale golden grass, crackling through tangled bushes.
More than once, he tripped on the rough ground, catching himself before face-planting.
He lost sight of her as she dodged and wove through the trees, leaving him behind.
In this unfamiliar terrain, he couldn’t keep up, so he stopped after only a few minutes.
Gasping for breath, he watched where she’d disappeared.
She must live nearby and know the forest well. He’d be on the lookout for her community.
Cam returned to the cliff vantage in disgust at his inept attempts at conversation and pursuit, watching as the last of the Slains departed—their jeep and loaded trailer disappearing down the pitted access road.
He stared after them. It would take them only a matter of hours to get home with wheels.
He’d arrived after a three-day walk from xTerra—which was closer than their compound near Bill, Wyoming.
Though he probably could have made the journey from home faster if he’d pushed, once in the open air, he hadn’t had a destination in mind as he traveled.
He’d just wanted to wander and fish, so on the third morning after leaving xTerra, he’d veered south toward Fort Robinson, where he’d often camped and fished before the asteroid with Lewis, his surrogate grandfather.
Cam hadn’t expected the Slains this far from their stronghold and had almost stumbled into their camp at the old fort before he’d been alerted by the acrid scent of wood smoke.
He’d been disappointed to find the ruffians here, then relieved their camp appeared temporary.
That had been four days ago. Since then, he’d set up an observation post overlooking the meadow and stream—spending the last few days aloft with his binoculars.
His eyes flicked back to the forest, searching for signs of the woman.
She’d been watching, too, showing she was smart to be wary of the Slains.
He returned to the bluff and walked along the edge until he came to a game trail leading to the plains below.
Though he’d observed the Slains’ departure, he still approached the site with caution.
He couldn’t see anyone left behind, but he’d hate to be mistaken.
Already, the scent of smoke grew faint. The tents had flattened the grass in large rectangles, and the fire pit contained bits of broken jars and crumbled chunks of pale ash.
In a few days, the site would revert to its normal condition.
The campsite near the pond and the meadowlands was deserted, allowing the tension to leave his tight shoulders.
With this more relaxed attitude, Cam ambled over to the main brick building of the Fort, where he found shiny new padlocks installed on both the front and rear doors.
He grabbed the new locks and shook. Solid.
Someone had also repaired the loose steps since a couple of years ago when he’d waited out a rainstorm inside.
It must have been the Slains, or they would have broken in, locks or no locks.
And if they could get inside, why had they camped in tents?
He stood on the porch, cupping his hand against the glass of the front window, peering inside. Someone had stacked several large wooden crates against the far wall. They hadn’t been here the last time he’d visited. Supplies?
Shit. It looked like the Slains might be expanding again.
Cam wasn’t keen on the Slains territory running up to xTerra from yet another direction.
Maybe he should stick around to see how many people came to set up and discover their intentions.
At least then, he’d have useful information to give Captain Wilson and the new mayor when he returned home.
Cam spent the next few hours fishing in the clear water, where he caught three trout—two for dinner and one for tomorrow’s breakfast. Around him, the land seemed peaceful, and his tension lessened again. This was the peace he’d needed.
Despite the quiet day, he still didn’t want to camp in the open, nor did he want to break into a Slains supply cache and tip them off about anyone else in the vicinity.
When the sun dipped toward the horizon, he packed up and traversed the winding trail up the bluff.
He returned to where he’d pitched his tent at the edge of the trees, far from where he’d be visible from below.
With the Slains gone, he built a fire and cooked an early dinner.
While he ate the flaky pink fish with pasta, he watched the blaze of sunset on the wide horizon and considered his options.
Maybe tomorrow he would explore the forest and the surrounding mountainside.
Maybe he’d find a hidden community and could make allies for the inhabitants of xTerra.
Cam stayed awake later than usual that night, listening to the crackle of his campfire, and after it had dwindled to pale embers, he stared up at the white blanket of stars, enjoying the solitude and open air. He couldn’t stargaze from inside a bunker.
***
Cam tramped through the forest for over a week, hiking several miles each day in ever-expanding circles.
While he startled several deer, and once spotted a rabbit, he found no trace of people or recent habitation.
Every second afternoon, he descended from the bluff and fished several quiet pools along the meandering river.
He felt relaxed and at peace when he was fishing.
Though Cam hadn’t planned to stay away from home for long, he remained, not wishing to return to the factions and family discord waiting at xTerra. His mother’s hurtful words remained foremost on his mind. Time enough to face the drama later.
Large flocks of geese passed overhead in high-flying Vs, and the remaining leaves dropped from the scattered deciduous trees lining the banks.
Several plants low to the ground had turned bright red and orange, as if painted for autumn.
The morning air was crisp, and the nights grew colder as the temperatures dropped below freezing.
Days remained sunny and warm, like summer.
So far, his tent had been warm enough overnight, but it wouldn’t be if the weather turned in earnest. Though reluctant to leave, winter often came early in this area.
He’d best remain alert and prepared. Every couple of days, when he descended to the Fort Robinson site, he checked it over, always monitoring the road for the Slains’ return.
The camp remained deserted.
On the bluffs, though he ran across several game trails and a couple of slim boot prints, he didn’t find any other signs of people. His thoughts returned to the woman he had encountered. She kept her place well-hidden. Or seeing her had been a fluke, and she had come from somewhere more remote.
Still, his gut said she lived nearby, maybe even somewhere he could find. On several occasions, the back of his neck prickled as though he was being observed. Whenever he spun, expecting to find someone close, he was disappointed to discover he was alone. Perhaps the sensation was all in his head.
As the days went on and the feeling continued, he became more certain his mystery woman ghosted through his vicinity without fear of discovery.
With time on his hands, he replayed their encounter.
He wished he’d simply introduced himself and asked her name.
She was monitoring him, and he grew to respect her ability to move with stealth.