Three miles down the path, Roxton found a set of foot prints the size of Marguerite's boots. And another small piece of fabric.
"We have to pick up the pace. If they walked all night, then they're at least a half day a head of us," Roxton said, almost running.
Ned broke into a run, as did Challenger. Malone had never seen Roxton like this. He had always been determined, no matter what he was doing, but Roxton was beyond pushing himself. He wasn't sleeping, he refused to take time to eat. His only priority was getting to Marguerite at all costs.
"Roxton, we should rest. You haven't slept in nearly two days," Malone said.
"I'll have plenty of time to sleep when Marguerite's home with me again," Roxton said, his voice almost dead. But he wasn't going to give up, he was going to get Marguerite home. Alive or......alive. That was the only option. She had to be alive.
"You need to rest," Malone persisted.
"When we first lost Veronica, did you sleep? No, all you did was search for her. And you still haven't given up. Now imagine Veronica was kidnapped by crazy german soldiers, and you might understand why I can't stop. Why I need to find her. Because I need her. And nothing will stop me from getting her home safely, especially some German with a grudge," Roxton said, a solitary tear trickling down his left cheek.
* * * *
Marguerite was trying to stall. Her friends, she knew, weren't very far behind and her only chance at surviving was to stall the arrival to the german base camp. Once she got there they'd kill her. In away she wished they hadn't followed. That John and the others would just give up. Because she could deal with dying, but her friends could also be killed. If she had thought they wouldn't be coming, she would have hurried to the camp, waiting for death, but she didn't want the others rescue mission to be in vain. And she didn't want John blaming himself.
She had made friends with one of her captors, the young one who had loosened her ropes. His name was Alexander, and Marguerite saw that he did not like his mission. He had asked he questions about her life on the plateau, and about her life before the war. He was forming a slight crush on her, and she had found it quite adorable, but made sure he understood her feelings for Lord Roxton. How could Alexander understand when she didn't?
"You love this Lord Roxton? And he loves you?" Alexander asked.
"We have never really talked about our feelings for each other. But I know I love him," Marguerite said, wishing it was as easy as she said.
"So does he love you?" Alexander didn't pause long enough for Marguerite to answer, "Of course he loves you. How could he not?"
"My whole life I've been waiting to be loved. To belong. And I finally feel as if I do. As if they are my family. It's a shame I'll die before telling them how I feel. Before telling John that I love him," Marguerite said, trying to hold the tears back.
* * * *
Malone slowly walked over to the log Roxton was sitting on. He silently sat down next to him, waiting for John to speak first.
All Roxton could say was a barely audible "I love her."
"We have to pick up the pace. If they walked all night, then they're at least a half day a head of us," Roxton said, almost running.
Ned broke into a run, as did Challenger. Malone had never seen Roxton like this. He had always been determined, no matter what he was doing, but Roxton was beyond pushing himself. He wasn't sleeping, he refused to take time to eat. His only priority was getting to Marguerite at all costs.
"Roxton, we should rest. You haven't slept in nearly two days," Malone said.
"I'll have plenty of time to sleep when Marguerite's home with me again," Roxton said, his voice almost dead. But he wasn't going to give up, he was going to get Marguerite home. Alive or......alive. That was the only option. She had to be alive.
"You need to rest," Malone persisted.
"When we first lost Veronica, did you sleep? No, all you did was search for her. And you still haven't given up. Now imagine Veronica was kidnapped by crazy german soldiers, and you might understand why I can't stop. Why I need to find her. Because I need her. And nothing will stop me from getting her home safely, especially some German with a grudge," Roxton said, a solitary tear trickling down his left cheek.
* * * *
Marguerite was trying to stall. Her friends, she knew, weren't very far behind and her only chance at surviving was to stall the arrival to the german base camp. Once she got there they'd kill her. In away she wished they hadn't followed. That John and the others would just give up. Because she could deal with dying, but her friends could also be killed. If she had thought they wouldn't be coming, she would have hurried to the camp, waiting for death, but she didn't want the others rescue mission to be in vain. And she didn't want John blaming himself.
She had made friends with one of her captors, the young one who had loosened her ropes. His name was Alexander, and Marguerite saw that he did not like his mission. He had asked he questions about her life on the plateau, and about her life before the war. He was forming a slight crush on her, and she had found it quite adorable, but made sure he understood her feelings for Lord Roxton. How could Alexander understand when she didn't?
"You love this Lord Roxton? And he loves you?" Alexander asked.
"We have never really talked about our feelings for each other. But I know I love him," Marguerite said, wishing it was as easy as she said.
"So does he love you?" Alexander didn't pause long enough for Marguerite to answer, "Of course he loves you. How could he not?"
"My whole life I've been waiting to be loved. To belong. And I finally feel as if I do. As if they are my family. It's a shame I'll die before telling them how I feel. Before telling John that I love him," Marguerite said, trying to hold the tears back.
* * * *
Malone slowly walked over to the log Roxton was sitting on. He silently sat down next to him, waiting for John to speak first.
All Roxton could say was a barely audible "I love her."