So, I've decided what I'm going to start doing is updating twice a week - once sometime between Sunday and Wednesday, and again sometime between Wednesday and Sunday. This way, I have plenty of time to work on the chapters and I don't feel overburdened, and you also get two chapters a week.
Writing battle scenes is difficult. So I tried to focus on the important things...but this battle has only just begun.
"The radio tower is here," Graham said, matter-of-factly. "Just south is the Rockville Bridge," he paused, turning to Boone. "…where you were captured."
Boone studied the map quietly a long moment – then, using a couple of stones from the dirt at his feet, he marked a point on the map. "I was held in a cave here. I climbed out of the canyon here and followed this ridgeline. There were two White Leg camps…here…and here."
Graham studied the stones' positions. "This is Three Marys…the other camps seem to be near Bighorn Bluff and the Red Gate…"
"You know the area, then?"
"Yes," Graham replied. "I know it well."
"How many White Legs were positioned there?" Six inquired.
"A few dozen…at each camp. No doubt there were more where I was being held."
"And you say a tribal helped you escape?" Graham was skeptical.
"No," Boone shook his head. "A tribal released me. A woman. Left me with no ammunition...no supplies. The escape was left to me."
Graham grunted, "Still, that's unexpected…"
"How he escaped isn't the point," Six interrupted. "How are we going to handle this?"
"Yes, of course." Graham nodded. "…which camp was Salt-Upon-Wounds in?"
Boone tapped one of the stones.
"Bighorn Bluff…good. It's the most open, easiest to access. Easiest for you," Graham looked at Boone, "…to get a clean shot." He turned to Six. "We'll meet with the Dead Horses here…Dagger's Point. From there, we'll split into two groups. Two-Bears will lead the Dead Horses into their camp from the north – just beyond this bridge there's a break in the canyon walls…they can slip through, just north of Red Gate."
"No," Boone shook his head. "The bridge is the only access road to the area, right?"
Graham nodded.
"Then it'll be watched. Send them in here…near the old docks," Boone jammed his finger into the map. "They make heavy use of the river…but since you've eliminated their hold on the north, the only resistance you'll run into here will be scouts. They'll follow the shoreline south…" Boone traced the shoreline with his finger. "…from our rendezvous…have them stay low and quiet. Just around this bend they'll find a dock. It's where I made my descent. They can infiltrate the camp there…they'll be on the White Legs before they have time to retaliate."
Graham nodded approvingly. "…while they have the White Legs distracted, the three of us, and Raul, will sweep through this canyon – coming from the north. We'll scale the cliffs near the old ranger station…"
Boone nodded. "I saw it. High ground, good position, clear view of the camp."
"You'll set up there – Raul with you. You have a silencer for that rifle, I trust?"
Boone nodded.
"Good," He turned to Six, "Then you and I will target their flank, eliminating them quickly and quietly…our primary objective is to find Salt-Upon-Wounds and to prevent any White Legs from returning to the main camp."
"And if they get through?" Six asked.
"They won't. We can't let them," Graham answered.
"But if they do?"
"Then, instead of a small scale assault, we'll have an outright war on our hands."
The moon was high in the night sky, occasionally breaking through the dense mist that hung over Zion. The air was wet and thick – and, despite the cool night air, the rain was warm. Graham paced back and forth before a small number of Sorrows that had gathered in front of him, Daniel sat quietly observing them. Lightning struck in the distance…Six counted the seconds until the thunder.
"Brothers!" Graham bellowed over the roaring sky. "Sisters! Tonight I ask you gather closely! Heed the words that I am to offer…and take hold of your neighbor's hands. For he who dwells in the shelter of the Holy Father will abide in His shadow. Since my arrival in Zion, I have brought you despair. Hell has followed me to this most sacred ground! I ask you now to take up arms…to do something that your Sacred Father has pleaded…has commanded that you renounce. To fight! But not without cause! For the good of your brothers, your sisters, and your children!"
Six situated himself next to Daniel, who continued to watch Joshua discontently.
"Zion is your home! These marauders…intruders…have broken into the house of the Lord! But you must not yield! You must not abandon hope! Your Father protects you! And He will deliver you from the snare of the fowler…from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his pinions, and under His wings you will find refuge!"
"Certainly has a way with words, doesn't he?" Six said, watching Graham deliver his speech.
"He twists the words of our Lord for his own whims," Daniel replied – not attempting to hide his displeasure. "You're condemning these people, you know that don't you?"
Six cast his eyes to the ground. "I haven't found a religion that hasn't been bent and twisted to the vices of man."
"Religion isn't the problem," Daniel shook his head. "No…man is."
"…and your faith in Him is a shield and buckler. Through Him, you will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day. You shall not fear the pestilence that stalks in darkness, nor destruction alike! I will not lie to you! The path that lies ahead will be dangerous! A thousand may fall at your side…ten thousand at your right hand. Friend and foe alike…but through your faith, your Father will protect you. And you must protect His Kingdom! You must look the enemy in his eyes and you must make him recompense!"
"Do they even understand him?" Six asked, mostly wondering aloud.
"They understand enough," Daniel answered. "Even if they all don't…the crowd mentality will rally them. Joshua knows this. If he can rally a few behind his cause…many will follow."
"And no evil shall be allowed to befall you! Neigh I say, no plague come near your tent! For He will command His angels to guard you in all your ways! And on their hands they will bear you up and you will tread on the lion and the serpent underfoot!"
Graham's bandages gripped his skin tightly – wet from pouring rain. Six watched as more and more Sorrows gathered around Graham. Murmuring amongst themselves. Some – at various intervals – cheering at the mention of the Father.
"He's using their beliefs against them," Daniel said. "I suppose that shouldn't surprise me. The Sorrows have taken strongly to the New Canaan faith…"
"New Canaan's worship the Father in the Caves?"
Daniel turned to Six, confused.
"In my travels with Waking Cloud…" Six clarified, "she explained that the Father in the Cave cared for the the people of this canyon long before the New Canaanites…strange idn't it? That they shared the faith of the New Canaanites even before meeting them?"
One of Daniel's eyes squinted. He snorted and shook his head. "Of course…how could I have been so blind? They probably think that Mary is the Mother and Jesus is the Child."
"My point is, Daniel…maybe you don't know as much about these people – about what they want, about what's best for them…as you think you do. Maybe you should let them design their own destiny."
Daniel fell silent…Six could hear Graham's words echoing throughout the Narrows. The crowd around him was massive now…though some still shied away from the thought of battle.
"And we will rise up! And like a flame devours the night, we shall cut down this incursion! And our Father shall guide us…and we will pray unto the Lord, our refuge and fortress…our God, in whom we must trust!"
With a sigh, Daniel pulled himself to his feet. "Don't you see?" He motioned to Graham. "They're not following their hearts. Their religion. They're not carving out their own destiny. They're rallying behind a leader…a man who has given them the impression that he has all the answers." He took in a deep breath and turned his gaze to the sky.
"Listen," Six said, sympathetically. "Those who don't want to help…take them to the Dead Horse camp. I'll convince Graham to spare some warriors to protect them. If you can't save them all…save as many as you can. Because come sunrise…we're taking back this valley."
An eruption of roars filled the canyon – bouncing off the walls. Joshua had won.
Daniel turned back to Six. He studied him for a long moment then exhaled. "I don't blame you, you know? You're a gen…you're an outsider. You don't understand their ways. You don't see what I want to preserve. It might seem like fighting is the only way to do this, but it's not. I wish you could see that…I wish both of you could see that."
"See what?" Graham asked, making his way towards them.
"A lot of things," Daniel murmured – his voice forlorn. "Psalm 91…good choice." With his hands in his pockets, Daniel turned away from them. Perhaps on more level than one. And he disappeared into the crowd.
Boone reached for his sidearm, he handed it – along with its silencer – to Six, "You're going to need this."
"I probably should have a silenced weapon by now…" Six admitted.
"Probably."
Six looked out over the valley – the rain had died down, leaving only the wet ground and thick red mud as evidence of its existence. Graham was speaking with the tribals – with Two-Bears and Dancing Flame. Giving them delicate instructions on their infiltration.
"You think this is going to work, Boss?"
Six glanced over his shoulder. Raul sat slumped against the a banana yucca tree – cleaning his revolver. The night was black – Six could just make out his silhouette against the tree.
With a shrug, Six plopped down next to him. "It'd better…shame to come all this way to die now."
"Oh, don't worry, Boss. I'm sure I'll live to see the sunrise. Graham too. Maybe Boone. You're pretty screwed though," Raul mused.
Six laughed to himself despite the potential truth to his statement. "So, you never told me about this Claudia."
"You get us out of here alive," Raul bargained, "And I'll give you some stories to talk about. House. The works."
"I'll hold you to that, Old Timer."
Raul laughed. In the darkness, Six saw the familiar figure of Waking Cloud approaching him – her headdress standing out above the crowd. She sat at his side.
"Good to see you are well," she smiled. Her eyes betrayed her though…something was wrong.
"What's wrong?"
Waking Cloud swallowed and turned her eyes towards the ground. Six immediately scooped up her chin and directed her eyes towards his own.
"What's wrong?" He repeated.
"We made it to the Dead Horse camp with no trouble," She began. "But when we arrived, I saw the children."
Six shrugged. "Graham didn't evacuate the children like Daniel did?"
"No, you don't understand…" Waking Cloud chewed her lower lip. "I saw the children of my people. I saw our elderly. Our sick."
Six raised a brow, unsure of what to make of the information.
"Daniel told me that my family had been escorted to safety. With the others. That they had left with the first evacuees."
"And?"
"He did not tell us where they had gone, only that they were safe."
"So your family was with the Dead Horses?"
Waking Cloud's eyes began to shine in the darkness - wet with tears.
"Oh no…" Six pulled her to him. She began to sob quietly in his arms. "Maybe they're part of another group? A group that was sent ahead to the Grand Staircase?"
"No…if Daniel was comfortable sending children and elderly to the Grand Staircase…why would he send us after a map?"
Six hadn't considered that. He pressed her head tightly against his chest. "Cloud…I don't know what to say…"
"Whatever it is, you can discuss it later," Graham's voice called out. He started towards them. "Everything's in order."
The group did as planned – splitting off into two forces. The main force led by Dancing Flame and Two-Bears, and Six's group with the addition of Waking Cloud.
They followed Graham, traveling along the shoreline. Graham would occasionally stop – taking in the scope of his surroundings. Between the two of them – Graham and Boone – any White Leg patrols were uprooted and silenced long before they knew anyone was nearby.
When they had reached the old ranger station, they stopped.
Graham turned to Boone. "Take point in this tower…you have view of the entire camp. If you find Salt-Upon-Wounds before we do, do not hesitate to take the shot. Raul and Waking Cloud will cover you – if any…"
"Understood," Waking Cloud affirmed.
He then directed his eyes towards Raul.
"No problem, Jefe."
Boone began his ascent – Waking Cloud followed him. Raul positioned himself underneath the station, flat in the bed of a rusted, broken down pickup. They waited in darkness…giving the Dead Horses and Sorrows time to gain ground.
Boone scanned the camp…all was relatively quiet. He could see movement. But there was no sign of the White Leg war chief.
Graham placed a firm hand on Six's shoulder. "It's time," He was on his feet in an instant, tearing low across the valley. Six was surprised at how quickly he could move – given the ordeal he suffered at the hands of the Legion. Though, perhaps he shouldn't have been…he'd seen Graham move like this before, when they had first met. Incapacitating Boone in a matter of seconds.
Graham practically darted from one fallen rock to another – from tree to shrub, hastily closing in on the White Legs. In one hand he clenched his pistol – a snub nose .45, complete with silencer. In the other hand he wielded a pipe…two railway spikes driven through it, secured with wiring of sort. It was ornately decorated with beads and feathers. Six had his own weapon of choice – his machete, and the silenced SIG-Sauer Boone had lent him.
Graham disappeared swiftly into tents…Six would see him emerge briefly, claiming his victim and pulling them out of sight. Six…was not so capable. He instead elected to pick off stragglers – those who were slow to wake, or to ready themselves. Occasionally he'd here the zip of a bullet and a White Leg that would have otherwise discovered his location would hit the ground.
He wasn't sure how long they had been in the camp when the rain began to pick up again. Water streamed from the mountainsides, pouring into the valley. The horizon had begun to break, shining magnificent hues of orange and red. The sky was peaceful – despite the storm…despite the bloodshed. In the distance, Six could hear thunder.
No.
Not thunder.
Gunfire.
The Sorrows and the Dead Horses had begun their frontal assault.
The White Legs began to stir – Graham adapted his plan accordingly. He began to quickly and silently – almost unnaturally – fire upon the White Legs. A cold reenactment of his assault on the camp at the old bridge. It didn't take long for the White Legs to realize they were being attacked from both ends. Bullets zipped by them – tearing tents to shreds. Six holstered the pistol – electing instead to use his rifle. He began to backpedal, taking cover where he could.
Graham was nowhere in sight.
He could see the Sorrows and Dead Horses now…pursuing the White Legs as they attempted to retreat. People were falling in numbers – White Legs, Sorrows, Dead Horses….
The steady rhythm of gunfire perforated the valley – the steady thump of automatic weaponry and high powered rifles. The Dead Horses and Sorrows had donned their enemies' weapons.
Then Six saw him. Graham. He had a White Leg cornered…Salt-Upon-Wounds?
No.
Something was off.
A woman.
Six started towards him. The woman was on her knees. She couldn't have been more than twenty years old.
Graham held the pistol to her forhead.
Six couldn't hear what he was saying over the gunfire. Over the cries of agony.
"Graham!"
No reaction. Six cursed under his breath and stood – bolting towards Graham in a dead sprint, paying no mind to the people around him. The fighting. The blood.
He was close enough to hear her crying now. He could hear Graham demanding her to give him the location of their leader.
"Salt-Upon-Wounds….where is he?"
Graham's voice was cold. Calm. He had more than just her…four, five people. All lined up on their knees. All much too young to be here.
"What the fuck have I done…"
"Where?" Graham turned his pistol to one of the captives – a single shot, a neat hole in his victim's head. The body slouched to the ground.
"Graham!" Six raised his rifle – leveling it at Graham.
No response – Graham's attention was unwavering. "Where is he!" His voice rose…if only slightly. He turned the gun from her again, executing another prisoner.
"Joshua!"
The Burned Man turned towards Six. His eyes alive with fire. He looked only briefly then turned back towards the woman. He placed the gun neatly between her eyes. "Last chance."
Six cursed under his breath and lowered his rifle. "Not like this. They don't deserve this."
Graham turned his eyes back to Six…he could see something in them. Something besides the fire…remorse? Guilt? Sympathy?
"Don't do it, Graham…lower your gun. Let her go."
He swallowed…Six thought for a brief moment that he was getting through…Then he turned his gaze back towards the woman. "I'm sorry…I can't do that."
Somewhere in the distance lighting struck.
Six waited for the thunder.
And I leave you with a cliff hanger...like I always do. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter and I hope it satiated your hunger for Six's adventures. See you next time.