“Where am… oh… yeah… never mind, sorry.”
“You okay?” asked Colonel Starkes.
“Um, yeah… let’s leave now. Can we go right now?”
“C’mon, Amanda, remember, you’re weak as a newborn kitten…”
“Umm…”
“We’re leaving at first light. End of story. Now work with us here. Let’s have you take a nice, hot bath and off to bed. One more night of rest is definitely what the doctor ordered.” Colonel Starkes stood next to Scott. They both helped Amanda to her feet.
’’Yeah, okay.”
Cassie took over for the colonel and whispered soft, consoling words to Amanda as they slowly walked to the door. Amanda, to her credit, moved fairly steady on her feet, though she drifted from side to side. Stopping abruptly, she turned back to Major O’Malley, Captain Daubney and Scott.
“Umm… Scott? Can you bring my rifle to my room? Please.”
“Sure, Amanda.”
Scott chose to ignore the soft snickers of both men as well as Captain Daubney’s poorly done imitation of her request.
CHAPTER 7.14-Answering the Obvious
“They went east yesterday. About mid-morning.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Sir?”
“Never mind. Go on,” said Phoenix. Resting in a hammock inside the command tent, he was in a rare good mood, content to listen to Luke Killington without rising. The naked pre teen was sprawled on the blankets nearby and was unaware that Luke had entered the command tent. A loud moan prompted both to glance in her direction before continuing. The bruised and bloodied face of the young blonde girl moaned once more in a disjointed effort to find some solace behind closed and swollen eyelids. Phoenix smiled at Luke and nodded. “Thanks again for seeing to my needs last night, Luke. It’s duly noted.”
“No problem, sir.”
“Where the hell you find her, anyway?”
“Small house ’bout a mile back. I found her hidin’ there.”
“Alone?”
“She is now, sir.”
“I see.” Impeccably dressed in freshly creased fatigues and a tailored brown shirt, Phoenix lounged eating a spicy deer kabob sent in for breakfast. Always close by, his Taurus Judge .45 rested on his stomach, ready for immediate use. Luke stood, somewhat stiff and mildly awkward, intent on delivering his search assessment of Connor MacMillen and the events near this Youngstown mill.
“They have four or five horses with ’em, easy to track. There’s probably ten of ’em total from what I can figure.”
“We’re tracking ten men, then?
“No sir, nine men and a woman. And one’s young, maybe a boy in his early teens.”
“And you can tell all of this how?”
“Sir?” Luke Killington stared directly into the air to the left of Phoenix, waiting.
“Right… never mind. You just know. Where’s my uncle?”
“Working with the cavalry command.”
“Doing what?”
“Sir?”
Phoenix smiled at the inquiry, realizing Luke did not like to repeat himself or track the behavior of others. In some ways, Phoenix respected that and wondered what impact this had on the men Luke commanded. He waved his deer kabob as if to dismiss his last thought. “Yeah, okay, right… not your concern. I guess we’ll let that one slide for now, being as I’m in a particularly good mood. You’re a unique one, Luke. Carry on. Excellent work.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Tell Larry to come talk to me when he’s done.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh, and in the meantime, send three advance scouts out east to track this Connor MacMillen and his men.”
“Already put that in place, ’fore dawn.”
“Excellent. Find Larry for me, Luke.”
“Yep. Yes, sir.” Luke Killington left the cooler air of the command tent. The warmth of the windy September morning blasted his face as the tent flap closed. He sniffed deeply. Smiling, he enjoyed the pulsing wind wafting so many subtle smells into his nostrils. Gear oil. Rusted steel. Red-clay dirt. Roasting campfire meat. The stink of clustered men. He walked toward the west end of camp where the horses were stabled. Glancing around, he caught sight of several men furtively glancing his way, before they broke off eye contact. He ignored them, knowing his recent promotion to third in command was a cause of envy for many of the men.
“Fuck ’em,” Luke said under his breath.
Most men of Phoenix’s army were much older than Luke and had lived in Cleveland for many years, fighting. But he knew he was different. He knew he scared most people simply by the fearless and animalistic way he moved, like a caged lion, and the fact that his fierce, nearly colorless gray eyes had a piercing quality that refused any outside exploration into his soul. His well-trimmed black beard covering a strong, lupine jaw gave further credibility to his having grown up wild, surviving in the woods. Awkward and ill at ease with any social probes, he’d always distanced himself from most humans; never had a true friend of either sex. On the other hand, he knew men and their purpose and general intent; he knew how to control them when needed. He’d found the solution simple: men respected power and fearlessness, and such men were now under his orders within the new command structure established by Phoenix.
“Fuck ’em all.” Luke stopped, again, scanning the area out of ingrained habit. The wind brought new smells of algae and rotting pond gas, quickly reminding him of growing up as a young boy in the deep woods of Wisconsin. There, he’d fully perfected the art of tracking animals and men under the intense scrutiny of Muddy, a crazed Vietnam vet and the only man he’d ever truly loved. And there, deep in the woods, he discovered his desire for deep silence and distance from people, especially his drugged out mother and alcohol sodden, abusive father. Growing older, he left his parents for good at ten, living full time in Muddy’s woods, spending his days tracking and hunting throughout the next eleven years. And, it was here, that he’d refined his almost supernatural ability to detect prey.
“You got the good eye and the nose for this kinda work there, Twiggy,” said Muddy on one rainy day near his twenty-first birthday. “Plus, you got the brain pan and ain’t afraid to use it.”
It was grudging praise that a wiry Luke Killington held dear to his heart, but kept hidden from the prying eyes of others. In fact, this remembrance of the solitary praise he’d ever received in his life would only rise in his mind when the smells in the air were just right. Coming upon the stables, he cleared his head. He sought and found Larry Reed.
“Sir?”
Larry Reed was talking with four cavalry commanders who had, essentially, encircled him and were each seeking to gain favor. Mildly annoyed at their obvious fawning efforts, Larry relished the interruption. “Hey Luke.”
“Phoenix wants to see you when you can.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Sure, sir.”
Luke turned to leave, but was stopped.
“Anything going on?”
“Not much, sir. I told ’im that this Connor MacMillen fellow went east yesterday. Mid-morning. Had a crew of about ten.”
“You sure about that?”
“Sir?”
Larry waited for an answer. The four battle-hardened cavalry soldiers looked on, interested in the exchange. Clearly, they’d yet to accept the young upstart as one of their new masters. They were wondering how Larry Reed would handle the new third man in charge. Especially, when it became apparent that Luke Killington felt it unnecessary to respond. Looking into those cold, colorless eyes, Larry Reed sensed the obvious challenge to his command. Posturing, he decided to push for an answer.
“Luke?”
Sensing the rising tension, the commanders waited. The tension in the barn increased. A horse snort behind them was the loudest sound nearby. Staying calm, Larry forced himself to wait for an answer. With building irritation and feeling a newfound need to establish himself, he brought Luke’s subtle defiance out into the open.