Chapter 14 Cam
Cam flattened himself against the icy ground, his heart pounding as he slithered through the powdery snow toward the peak of the ridge.
Staying low, he peered across to the other side.
He’d been lucky to spot the smoke of an early morning fire before stumbling into a strange camp so close to where he’d spent a freezing night without a fire.
The tantalizing aroma of bacon and the acrid smell of wood smoke were stronger overlooking the camp.
Four men sat around the blaze, heaping breakfast plates balanced on their laps while they ate.
His stomach gurgled. In contrast, he’d crunched a cold breakfast bar of stale oatmeal and dried fruit. Without changing position, he glanced left, then right. Another man stood at attention a couple of hundred yards beyond Cam’s prone position along the same ridge.
He sank lower and shifted further into the branches of the naked bushes.
He squinted as the pale dawn slid into early morning.
Cam had been right to be cautious, as he didn’t recognize anyone as being from xTerra.
While the scene below seemed ordinary, the jeep behind probably belonged to the Slains.
They had attached a metal blade to the front of the vehicle so they could plow the road and travel from their compound, even during winter.
He didn’t like how comfortable they seemed so far from their stronghold.
This was the third patrol he’d run across in twenty-four hours.
Cam’s ankle throbbed from the hard trekking he’d done the last several days.
His foot tired too quickly for a full day’s journey, and the deep snow had made travel treacherous.
His three-day hike had already stretched to five, and he had at least another full day to reach the outer gate at xTerra.
More if he had to detour to evade enemy patrols.
This level of occupation to the south was an unexpected concern.
He ducked his head, his chin pressing into the cold snow, when the guard shifted position. Cam hoped his gray jacket provided enough camouflage in the early morning light. He’d have to report their increased presence to Captain Wilson immediately upon his return.
When the guard once more faced the opposite direction, Cam held his breath and slid down the hill, collected his pack, and headed north.
He walked in the soft snow at first, judging silence a priority over speed.
He kept the ridge between himself and the unwelcome men nearby, his shoulder blades prickling as he traveled.
Once he’d gone several hundred yards, he crossed another ridge, slipped into his snowshoes and broke into a trot, listening for man-made sounds but thankfully hearing only the whisper of the morning breeze.
Soon, sweat streamed down his face and sides.
Several times, he stopped to catch his breath before pushing on.
His foot throbbed. Man, he was out of shape.
He’d have to improve his fitness again now that his ankle was on the mend.
In late morning, well away from the strangers’ camp, he startled half a dozen antelope bedded down at the base of the ridge, hidden in the sagebrush.
He almost had a heart attack when they leaped to their feet and dashed away in a single-file line.
He watched them run, letting his heart rate subside.
With a lump in his throat, he pushed on.
If the Slains patrols spotted his tracks in the snow, he’d be easy to follow, but his best bet was to stay ahead and out of sight.
His advantage over them was that he didn’t need to stick to the roads.
Even with snowplows, the jeeps wouldn’t make it far off-road.
Once, the distant whine of a vehicle carried on the chill breeze, so he slumped against a clump of jagged rocks jutting from beneath the snow, hoping for the limited camouflage they’d provide. He waited. The engine sounds drew nearer. Cold seeped into him, and he held his breath.
Heart drumming, Cam waited until the sound disappeared before returning to his feet.
He struggled for a few minutes, floundering away from the cracked rocks to flatter, crunchier snow where it was easier to hike on top.
For the hundredth time since leaving Lissa, he was thankful for his snowshoes.
Even wearing them, he broke through in places, slogging painfully until he reached more stable footing.
Without snowshoes, this trip would have been nigh impossible.
Reminded of Lissa’s generosity, his thoughts about leaving her soured his mood.
Maybe he should have stayed for the rest of the winter.
Maybe he could have convinced her to visit xTerra in the spring together.
He could have confronted his mother then.
Afterward, he could have left xTerra with Lissa to return to Crawford with a lighter conscience.
He’d been so fixated on returning as soon as he’d healed, he hadn’t considered other possibilities until it was too late.
However, this close to the bunker city, he’d see his mission through before leaving again.
Cam had left Lissa a map and directions, half hoping she’d follow.
The ache in his chest persisted. She didn’t want to live in a crowd of people, and she wouldn’t want to endanger her cats in this frigid weather.
Now, after the tense trek evading enemy patrols, especially along the road, he prayed she stayed home.
He’d rather she were safe than close. The idea that she might be caught along the dangerous route made his gut clench.
He pushed his goggles into place as the sun emerged into a patch of blue sky, peeking through the overcast skies.
It glinted off the expanse of ice-crusted, sparkly white stretching in all directions—and kept hiking.
Several times throughout the everlasting day, he took quick breaks for a mouthful of water, to catch his breath, and to check his compass heading.
Out in the open, it would be easy to get disoriented, but he was an experienced orienteer and made decent progress.
At midday, Cam spotted another spire of gray smoke in the distance, dark against the overcast sky. He adjusted his course again and forged ahead.
The afternoon wore on. His foot sore and the light fading, he considered his options.
If he pushed on, he should make the outer gate by nightfall, or he could camp once more and push on in the morning.
His muscles thrummed, his legs like jelly after another strenuous day.
He’d be cold and hungry because he wouldn’t feel safe with a fire overnight.
Again. He glanced over his shoulder toward where the sun was about to dip below the horizon.
He’d been so wrapped up in evading people and his thoughts that he’d forgotten to monitor the passage of time.
Dark clouds loomed, biting a chunk from the sinking sun and moving fast. Fear slithered down his spine. With a final look, he steeled himself, increasing his pace.
***
Cam slowed, his face hot and chest tight, his leaden feet even heavier than his heart as he made his way up to the gatehouse of xTerra’s outer gate.
He glanced overhead at the storm clouds as the first flakes of snow swirled through dusk’s fading light.
Shivering, he adjusted his scarf as the icy wind pushed him toward the barrier.
He’d just beaten the worst of the weather.
He sucked in a breath, his lungs aching in the frosty air.
The Outpost at the edge of xTerra’s territory along the only road in was left manned by at least two guards.
Often four. Even overnight, one person would remain awake while the other slept.
Maybe he could offer to stay out here when he returned to active duty.
Cam had no desire to return to his empty place inside xTerra’s walls.
Although he’d rushed home, his heart was elsewhere.
But word would get back to his mother that he’d returned.
He sighed. If only he could put off the confrontation—even though it was a major reason for leaving Nebraska.
He stepped up to the gate and rattled the hanging chain like a bell—the clanking sound louder than the blustery wind. Less than a minute later, the door to the Outpost opened, a pool of yellow light spilling onto the icy ground.
“Who’s there?” said a deep voice. A giant figure stood silhouetted in the doorway.
“Sergeant Walker, is that you? It’s Cam Montgomery.”
“Montgomery? We’d about given you up as dead.
We expected your return over a month ago.
” The towering man strode across the packed snow and unlocked the gate.
He held it open just enough for Cam to slip through before relocking it.
“Hell of a storm brewing tonight. You’re in the nick of time. Some trouble keep you out there?”
“It’s a long story,” said Cam. “But the Slains are all over. I spotted them half a dozen times in the last two days, and heard even more, though they didn’t see me.”
“Come inside and get settled. I was about to eat and have enough to share. You also look like you could use a hot drink. We’ll call the captain with your news.”
They crunched through the squeaky snow, and before they went inside, Cam released his snowshoes.
He propped them against the wall just inside the door, shrugged out of his jacket, and slipped off his boots.
His boots off, he wiggled his toes, rotating his stiff ankle in gratitude.
He groaned at the shooting pain in his foot.
After the last few strenuous days, some of the swelling had returned. His hands and face tingled in the warmth. He glanced around for the second member of the Watch.
“I just took over,” said Walker. “My partner came off shift and is sleeping. You look beat. After dinner and your report, you can crash in the bunkhouse. There’s plenty of room.”