I was up early and observed the usual routine of the others that wherever I strolled, somebody was keeping an eye on me. Brother Thomas was an unknown quantity.
When I had been wakeful in the night, I had realized that my assumption that they would mail the tapes had to be wrong. This outfit preferred to take no chances at ale It had to be a hand-delivery sys
The Green Ripper tem, and so it would do no good at all to try to find a return address.
When I went back to sleep I dreamed of Sister Elena Marie, smiling at me, talking to me. It was very important that I understand what she was saying, but I could only catch a word or phrase here and there, and they were in a foreign language I could not even identify. She was telling me how to get around behind the screen, back to where she was, and she was becoming angry because I couldn't understand what she was telling me. If I could get on the same side of the screen as Sister Elena Marie, then Gretel would be spared. When I yelled at her in rage, it woke me up agam.
I ate little because I had a good idea of what they were going to try to do to me. I guessed they could probably run me into the ground. But out of pride I wanted to make them have to stretch to do it.
They had six hundred and forty very rugged acres. It was a bright chilly day, at first. Chuck ran the group with whistle signals. I had to be briefed on those. Most of it was standard operating procedure for patrols. Infiltration, cover and concealment, giving covering fire, without ammo. It involved a lot of running. I had a fifteen-year disad- vantage with most of them, and I was carrying eighty more pounds uphill than were the two girls. But they wasted energy in random movements. I husbanded every ounce, made no unnecessary step.
I was sweating heavily by late morning, and they all looked dry. They were conditioned.
There were special little moments of humiliation. Once when we had crossed a swollen creek and were going up an abrupt rocky slope on the other side, I got so winded near the top that I was grabbing sman trees to yank myself along. As I was doing that, Stella went by me, running uphill on tiptoe, deft as a goat, and turned to give me a smile and a quick wink before leaving me behind, looking uphill at the bounding flex of those hips under the tough denim.
At another time, when I was breathing with my mouth open, gulping air hungrily, I sucked in a large California beetlebug, coughed him out violently, and couldn't stop coughing. But I was damned if I was going to say uncle. I was ready to drop first and be carried in. And I was also ready to cheat. I had weeded my twenty pounds of rock down to about three pounds. It helped.
When I was down to counting the minutes before I would probably pitch forward onto my face, I was saved by misadventure. Sister Nena took a good fast run to clear a creek, jumped well, and landed on a stone that turned as her foot struck *. She fell heavily on gravel, equipment clanking, and moaned as she reached for her right ankle. Her olive complemon was a yellow-white, her eyes squeezed by pain. I was first to reach her, and carefully unlaced
The Green Ripper the sodden sneaker and eased it off, then peeled the sock down and off her foot.
Chuck knelt beside me, and The others stood around looking down at her. "Busted?" he asked.
I told her to hold on tight, and I slowly manipulated the ankle joint. She sucked air. I made her work it herself. I knew from wide experience it wasn't bad.
"Just a little sprain, I ark, but you shouldn't walk on it right away."
Chuck looked around at the slope of The land, the direction of distant peaks. "About a half mile back," he said.
Barry was wearing a macho silk scarf, off-white. Chuck wrapped The ankle tightly and tied it in place. I said I could carry her back. She said she could hobble and hop. She said it was her own damn clumsiness. Barry said he'd carry her. I said he could take over when I got tired. I didn't tell him I was already so tired I wondered if I could make a half mile by myself. Suddenly Me sun was covered and the rain began to fall again. Chuck took my pack, hefted it, looked at me with a raised eyebrow, and dumped out the remaining rocks. Two of them. Apple-size. Barry took the weapon. Nena stood up on one foot, with Stella helping her balance. I bent and put my shoulder in her middle and had her lean forward as I stood up with her, my right arm wrapped around her legs lust above her knees. She was smallish but solid. The rain rem freshed me. It cooled me off. I made pretty good time. A few times I lost my footing on the uneven ground, and when I caught myself it would drive my shoulder into her middle, making her gasp. And each time I apologized, and each time she told me not to bother. SteDa walked behind me, telling Nena how soon she would be up and around, which I knew was true. Barry offered twice to take over, but I said I was fine. I made it back in with her and, at Chuck's direction, took her to the trailer she shared with Stella. It was larger and older than mine. I bent over and knelt and perched her on the edge of her bunk, and she thanked me with an unanticipated shyness.
After the noon meal they went out again in the rain, but I was excused.
'we're doing some target work'" Chuck explained. "We do it in bad weather when sound doesn't carry well and there's less chance of hikers around the perimeter."
'] could use some brushup on that."
"You're not cleared for live ammo, Brother."
'brother Persival is the one who'd clear me?"
'~hen you're ready."
'~What kind of weapon is that?"
He showed it- to me but didn't let me handle it. "Pretty good. Better than it looks. It's Russian. Ka- lashnikov Assault Rifle. It's got a good reach, and it's fast and accurate enough. Of course, for real long-range accuracy, we've got better stuff. Scopes
The Green Ripper and all. Haris is the best one here at that game. He can hit a pie plate at a thousand meters on a still day."
"Good for Brother Haris."
'Is that being sarcastic or something, Brother?"
"No. I mean it's good shooting."
"Yes, it is." Off he trotted, tootling his whistle.
The camp seemed empty. I knew that Nena was in her quarters. I wandered around, wondering who was watching me. Somebody had to be on the gate. Alvor the silent one, if they hadn't rotated the duty. Persival had to be somewhere.
I thought it out during my aimless stroll in the misty rain. I had not passed any test. I had not proved anything to anybody. So somebody wanted to know how badly I wanted to take off. Would I go down the road or start out cross-country? What would Tom McGraw do? They had an Tom's money, and they were trying to locate his girl. So why not use up a piece of the rainy afternoon calling on the pretty little woman he had carried back to camp? Ask her how she was doing.