Chapter Nine:

Trials and Tribulations

"You know this is just one of those things they never mention in adventure novels, or those shows you see on TV or even campers ever talk about. Why, I don't know. I mean it's not exactly a taboo topic, just an uncomfortable one. I mean seriously, as a modern suburbanite, these things would be useful to know."

Marissa sighed as Scarlett continued to rant.

"-Oh! Hey, look! A tree squirrel looking-ish creature! Wait, I'm pretty sure squirrels don't have two tails. Unless, of course, you've been born in Chernobyl, then you're fair game for any sort of mega-doping-gene-switching radiation. Though, I'll bet the average American teenage girl's brain or fingertips could give them a run for their money, depending on whether they text or talk. Given the likelihood of what I've seen in high school, I'm going with text. Not to mention, the family plans are mainly text packages nowadays,-"

They had spent the night outdoors plagued by bugs until they remembered the packets of herbs in Scarlett's backpack and then they had spent the whole night jumping at every single strange sounding noise. Then they had almost set fire to the forest in the morning when breakfast did not go as planned and now Scarlett was discussing, or rather, doing a two-hour-and-still-going soliloquy. Marissa had made the mistake of calling it a monologue and had earned herself a thirty minute rant on theatre terminology, Shakespeare and proper grammar.

"-if what Cole says is anything to go by. He has got to be the most homosexual straight guy I have ever met. That or he has a had a female dominated household and family from birth. I dunno, it's 50-50. But anyway, before the squirrel-thing distracted me, why do they never talk about going to the bathroom?"

And that brought them full circle to the last unfortunate issue they had had to face down. Being in the wilderness with no "WC's, toilets, bathrooms, restrooms, or plumbing of any kind." Marissa know knew more about indoor plumbing than she had ever needed, ever wanted, to know. It was a source of constant amazement how Scarlett never got lost in her own mental ramblings.

"It's really not that embarrassing. It's a natural body function that is disgusting, yes, but must be talked about. That's it! When we get home, I am so writing a survival guide. Knowing how to dislodge an alligator from your person is definitely not as useful as knowing how to go to the bathroom. That is, not to say that we don't have previous knowledge, but that the proper technique would be nice."

Luckily, she had remembered a snippet from a movie that had told to her what to do and Marissa went camping. Yes, a movie. Her last few sentences registered.

"You know how to dislodge an alligator?"

"Why, yes. Don't you?

Marissa shook her head mutely.

"I had assumed it was a matter of common knowledge."

"Only if you're in Florida."

"Well then, you've just proved my point."

"We live in Texas."

"Still, it's a matter of common knowledge somewhere."

"You cannot just bring in the 'it's 5 o'clock somewhere' argument. The generalization is too broad."

"Aren't generalizations supposed to be broad? Otherwise they're stereotypes."

Marissa shook her head. "Sometimes, I just don't know what to do with you."

"For all that that's your catchphrase, it still doesn't make the least bit of sense to me," Scarlett said looking up at the trees. "It's like you're implying some kind of tacit shame to be associated with me. That or you're secretly amused but it would ruin your whole ninja demeanor to admit it. And what's with this sometimes? You say that all the time."

Marissa heaved a heavy sigh but Scarlett was too busy staring at trees to continue pressing the issue. They walked along in sweet, blessed silence for a while -almost twenty minutes before - "Missa?"

Marissa throttled the urge to throttle her and said very sweetly, "Yes, Scarlett?"

"Do you hear that?"

They both stopped and stood stock still. The wind chose that moment to pick up and the leaves rustled loudly but that was all they heard. No bird calls. No twigs snapping under animals feet. And a low rhythmic thumping noise.

"Get off the road!"

They scrambled to the side of the road and burrowed beneath two prickly, waxy bushes with yellow leaves that smelled like oranges. They pressed themselves into the dirt as best they could and Scarlett raised the hood on the grey shirt-hoodie-vest thing she was wearing to hide her hair. They breathed shallowly through their mouths and waited. Ten minutes passed. The noise got slightly louder. Another ten minutes passed. The noise had a sort of jingling to it now and it was more of a plodding noise now, than a pounding. Another ten minutes passed but still they waited. If nothing else could be said for the two, they were both incredibly patient.

The noise eventually resolved itself into a group of twelve riders. They rode in tight formation, in matching uniforms that somewhat resembled the Army. Or at least they would if it weren't for the cowboy hats and thigh-high grey leather boots. A chill ran down the girls spines as they noticed the crest of triangle and circles embossed on their hats and shields. The group passed them slowly, at a smooth trot. Or, they would have, if another rider hadn't come galloping up the road, heading straight for them.

It was another soldier but the company halted and waited patiently as he reached them.

"Captain Reiman! Captain Reiman!" the soldier shouted as he galloped up.

The Captain, a man at the end of the column, turned his horse to face the scout. He was a striking man. Neatly shaven with skin the color of amber, eyes the color of coal, he sat his horse with the ease of one born to the saddle and the calm, cool nature of a vicious predator.

"Report, Scout Leemin," he said, his voice a rich baritone.

The scout hastily handed him a leather case. The captain opened it and a scroll slid from it. He read it quickly then returned it to its case.

"Very well, then," he said calmly. "Our orders have just been changes," he said addressing his men. "We are to return at once with all possible haste." The column quickly reversed itself and strapped down their things.

The captain turned to the scout and calmly pulled out his sword. "Scout Leemin?"

"Yes, captain?"

The Captain nudged his horse closer and coolly pierced the scouts lower forearm near the elbow.

"If I ever hear you calling out an officer's name and rank again, I will make sure not to miss the appropriate spot to end your life," he said calmly. The scout released a hoarse shout of agony but bit down on his hand to keep from screaming. "Am I understood?"

The scout whimpered through his sudden tears but managed to mumble out an affirmative loud enough to satisfy the Captain.

"Excellent, you may bandage that as we travel. Forward march!"

Marissa clenched her teeth angrily, knowing that it would be nearly impossible to bandage a wound like that one-handed on horseback at a quick pace. Scarlett looked like she was about to be ill and struggled to keep breathing quietly. They waited ten minutes before crawling out of their hidey hole. They looked at each other.

"What was his name?" Marissa demanded lowly.

"Captain Reiman," she said softly, as if in pain. Marissa branded the name into her brain as Scarlett swallowed a few times then shakily got her feet. She adjusted her backpack and shook her head. "Come on. We've got to get out of here, before they come back."

"If we continue this way, we'll run right into them."

Scarlett shook her head. "Think about it, Missa."

Marissa rolled her neck, clenched her fists and evaluated the situation. Two people on foot would travel much more slowly than twelve on horses, would be quieter, possibility of being easier to track in the soft dirt they were on, easier to split up and hide. She looked at Scarlett.

"They said their orders had changed," she said slowly.

"I'm pretty sure that means they've been called back to base or at least to the aid of another company," Scarlett said.

"But they were heading down the road for an original mission. That means they're likely to double back eventually."

"We may run into them if they decide to do that, but at the moment they've retreated. The only way we make sure to get caught is to stay here."

"What's the likelihood they saw us in the brush, but didn't get the chance to do anything?"

"One of the people at the front looked like he was a tracker, but I'm not sure if he had enough time to accurately judge our prints."

"Alright, then. Let's assume he does. So at least one person who is completely hostile to us knows we exist and will most likely report it to his superiors."

"Meaning?"

"If they do come back down the road and they know we're traveling along the road, they may set up an ambush to catch us."

"I think that's highly unlikely. Even if we're not supposed to know they're traveling this road, they chose to travel on the road. That means they'll be seen eventually and they know it. It sounds to me like an exercise in fear and scouting. People who see them will know they've come farther into the OZ but the fact that they're traveling in such large numbers means they can't be familiar with the terrain and are expecting a fight from someone."

"Which the Guild will give them." They shared a grim look.

"Remember though, it takes time to set up an ambush. The report said with all possible haste and they left at a canter. They mean to travel some serious distance."

"We still need to be more careful from now on."

"No argument there. But how, exactly?"

"We'll have to start sleeping in shifts and we need to pack mud onto our shoes to try and disguise the tread," she reasoned aloud. "No fires and if we can, keep our smells like bug smoke, to a minimum."

"All of that's doable," Scarlett said, "just very uncomfortable."

"If it's a choice between death or being uncomfortable-"

"Being uncomfortable it is, for two hundred Alec," Scarlett interrupted.

"Alec?"

"From Jeopardy!"

"Right. Shoes first."

They quickly disguised their shoes as best they could and set off once more.

Over the next few days they quickly settled into a rhythm. They traveled as quietly as they could, talking kept to a minimum. Marissa took the first night shift as Scarlett was undoubtedly the morning person between the two of them, using a small watch that also functioned as a sundial to keep track of time.

The fourth day after they had left, it rained. Scarlett had pulled out a small umbrella and black poncho out for Marissa and had covered herself and her backpack inside a dull tan rain poncho. Marissa had tried to argue against this arrangement as her head would still get soaked.

"I've got a hood, you don't. Not to mention, I don't get sick and you do. End of story."

And that was that. The downpour lessened into a steady drizzle for the next day and a half before reverting into a monsoon. They built themselves a hasty lean-to about ten feet from the road in the crook of a tree and rode it out.

"Looks like Girl Scouts was useful after all," Scarlett remarked, watching the road from their shelter.

"Agreed."

"The storm should last until about noon tomorrow, then it'll be clear skies for a few days."

"Great," Marissa grumbled, "deep, cold mud to slog through."

"Good facial masks though."

"Go to bed."

"Alright, alright. Night to you too, meanie-head."

Marissa rolled her eyes at the childish name but said nothing. It was going to be a long, long night.