Chapter 3
Rachel sat in the dirt with her back to their camp, looking down at Cottonwood. More legionaries had arrived in the night, each new boat adding both soldiers and slaves to the already impressive numbers below.
She heard Boone stir behind her as a faint glow lit the horizon. Dawn was less than an hour away. The big man growled as he sat up, Rachel didn't turn to look at him, feeling guilty about not waking him up.
"Rachel," he started, in a dead tone that was getting all too familiar.
"Tough, you should have known I had no intention of doing the night watch in shifts," She told him, still staring at the landscape below.
She heard him exhale, it was a sigh somewhere between gratitude and annoyance. Rachel just set her jaw stubbornly; she would not apologize or give an excuse.
She shifted and pulled her limbs in closer to her body, the night had been cold and because of the position over the camp they had not risked keeping the fire glowing past dusk.
The girl heard Boones heavy boots come up behind her, and he lay down next to her, cigarette between his lip and sunglasses on even in the early morning light.
"Here," he growled softly, thrusting a flask in her direction. She took it and unscrewed the cap, sniffing the contents, Whiskey.
Rachel gladly took a swig, letting the liquid burn in her mouth and down her throat. She took another swig and then handed it back. She didn't want her judgment to be impaired, just the ice to melt from some of her veins.
"Report," he commanded in the same monotone, it looked like he was reducing to one word voicing's this morning. That was fine with her, the anger and pain in his voice was hard on her own heart.
"The enemy increased in numbers throughout the night. Eight more boats arrived, each carrying both men and slaves. This is a gathering, it's my belief that today they are going to start selling the slaves." Rachel paused, not sure she wanted to share her calculations with him. Sure he didn't want to hear it, but then committing to giving him the full report she had. "Chances of our success, let alone our survival are currently in the single percentile,"
Boone just nodded, he seemed to have come to the same conclusion, or maybe he was simply accepting what she'd come up with as the most plausible reality.
Rachel moved away from the edge and went to her pack, taking out a bottle of purified water. She wet her mouth and put the water back, deep in thought.
She looked at the man laying six feet away and clenched her fist. Why did the world have to be so cruel.
Rachel got the fire going as dim light washed over the wasteland and fog rolled off the damp ground. She used the rest of her morning water bottle making coffee. And when it was done she brought a cup to Boone as she rejoined him at the edge of the cliffside camp.
He took it without a word.
People had started moving around below them and Rachel new in just a little wait they would begin their action. Soon she and Boone would have to act.
She had no drought that today they were both going to die but she didn't care. Or at lease she wasn't scared. If she was going to die then this seemed like a pretty good way to go. Fighting next to her best friend, trying to save someone they both cared about, and taking as many legion bastards with them as possible.
Rachel sipped at the dark liquid in her cup, looking threw her scoop. People were starting to gather around a raised platform to the left of the complex. She dragged her pack closer and pulled out her two back-up clips of her rifle. She made sure they were all fully loaded, planning to simply eject the empty clips and insert the new ones.
Boone was doing the same.
"Rachel," She looked over at him, he was still staring intently at the camp below. "It's not too late. If you walked away now, I wouldn't hold it against you."
He was giving her an out, and in the moment she knew that Boone was sure they were going to die today too. She could leave now and survive to see another sunrise.
"I would;" she told him firmly,"I'm with you Boone. So what's the plan?" She asked, and that was is, she was committed.
"We'll be dead before we do any good if we try to storm their base. There's too many of them for that. He told her, all business now. Rachel nodded and he continued, "We wait until we see Carla, then we fire on the people closest to her. She'll have the good sense to run when she gets the chance. We see what direction she takes and you follow her while I cause a distraction. Take her back to Novac and I'll meet you there."
Boone's face was hard and Rachel swallowed. She knew he had no real faith that he was going to get back to Novac. He was telling her to take Carla and leave without him.
"Boone-" She started but he shook his head.
"Promise," he growled,
Finally she nodded, "Fine, but if your ass isn't back by dusk I'm coming to look for you,"
Boone nodded and they turned their attention back to the ground below.
It was only a short hour later when the sound of a horn blasted through the air. Rachel jumped when the suddenly loud sound blasted off the canon walls. She looked threw her scoop, searching for the source. She found the offending instrument in the hands of a man standing on the platform.
The result was like flies swarming around a three day old Brahmin corpse. Men poured out of buildings and off boats. Hundreds maybe even thousands of legionnaire troops all converging around the platform.
An important looking man stood for a couple minutes, giving a speech that she and Boone were too far away to hear. He stepped back and the auction began. They watched in silence as a young woman was dragged on the stage.
It wasn't Carla, and when the girl started to sob she was rewarded by a hard slap across her face. She was sold, and her new owner dragged her away. That's how it went, each person sold making Rachel feel sicker.
Some of the newly sold slaves were brought to various building around Cottonwood but many of them were brought to the boats. That was troubling. If they managed to get Carla on one of the boats there was a good chance Rachel and Boone would never find her, the network of rivers making an easy escape route.
Finally a familiar body was led on stage. Carla had a black eye and her dress was dirty, one side had a rip in the skirt. Rachel felt Boone stiffen next to her and she heard him growl deep in his throat.
Rachel watched as her friend was described to the men gathered, the bidding started.
"On my count, you take the right," Boone hissed, and she tightened her grip on her rifle.
Rachel put her cross hairs on the man holding Carla's arm and Boone started to count.
"Three, two…one,"
Their gunfire echoed off the stone walls surrounding Cottonwood Cove and men scrambled for cover and weapons as the soldiers on the stages dropped. Carla was frozen for a single second and the she ran, jumping from the stage and heading for the rocky mountains. Rachel was poised to run and meet her when she saw a man grab Carla's arm, yanking her back. Rachel had her gun aimed but she couldn't get a clear shot.
The legion man kept Carla between himself and the mountains, drawing the woman towards the boats. The fowl thing already had its sail unfurled and oars in the water. They were ready to leave as soon as they had who Rachel assumed was their captain.
Rachel's eyes darted around, her scoop trained on Carla but taking in everything around them. Legion men who weren't retreating were arming themselves and scurrying towards them, searching for the one who had disrupted their actuation.
"Boone, we're running out of time," she called as he reload and took another shot,
"Boone, he's dragged her on the docks!" she cried, Rachel watched as the man dragged Carla onto the boat and they cut the mooring ropes, the vessel was moving.
"Rachel," He finally answered and she almost wished he hadn't. The pain in her friend's voice was extraordinary. "You know what they'll do to her,"
Rachel did know. Rape, beatings, mutilation, torture and death were all common treatment of Legion slaves.
"Rachel, Take the shot," He barked, voice hollow.
"What!" she cried, acutely aware of the men getting closer to them.
"I don't want to be the one," He pleaded, and added, "Please, on my count,"
Rachel felt like the world was closing in on her, she'd killed people before but never a friend, not even a mercy killing. "I don't think I can,"
"On my count, if you don't then I will, I promise," He said, but whether he was making that promise to himself, or maybe to Carla or even to Rachel herself she wasn't sure.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and lined up the shot, Carla's terrified face clear in her crosshairs.
"Three…Two…" Boone's voice was thick and the last number was almost too low for her to hear. But of course she did hear it and her heart constricted painfully. Eyes full of tears she took a deep breath with her finger on the trigger.
She hesitated and then a gunshot sounded. Carla Fell to the deck of the ship and it was over. Except that it wasn't, Rachel could hear the scrambling footsteps of the men looking for them.
"Boone, We-" She looked at him and swore, he was frozen next to her, dead along with his wife.
"Boone…Craig!" She shouted, as she lifted her rifle and used it to take the head off of the first red skirted man to stumble into their camp.
The gunfire seemed to wake him up but she couldn't to fault him for freezing, she sincerely wished she could curl into a ball and die right now too. Unfortunately her survival instincts were too strong to allow that. She would just have to save her grief for later.
They fought off the two other men that had appeared easily and fell back.
When they had several minutes of silence the made the silent decision that they were safe for the moment and without a single word started the long walk back to Novac.