It isn't Charlie's first time sleeping in a tent. Her mom and dad had been surprisingly prepared for the blackout, most necessities packed like they would've been going on a camping trip otherwise.
Miles doesn't sleep at all. He stands guard over his niece, exhausted from his travels, but mind whirring so loudly that rest escapes him. The other men had known better than to remark on the presence of the little girl, and simply dragged themselves onto their cots when Miles mentioned he'd take first shift.
Giving his tent to Charlie means Bass doesn't have a bed either, as the generals always share theirs. It makes him grumpy, but he places himself on the hard ground by the fire without complaint. None of their soldiers offers to give theirs up either, but only because they haven't gotten the message that their president has been kicked out of his bed by the twelve-year-old Matheson.
What's left of the night passes quickly. Dawn, and with it Rachel's deadline, has arrived by the time everyone wakes up. "Anything you need back home, kid?" Miles asks as she rubs her fists into her eyes. Charlie shakes her head in response. She twists to her side and draws a tiny stack of postcards from the huge pocket on the front of her warm sweater. She trustingly hands them to her uncle, who flips through them.
They mean nothing, just a collection she's been amassing like people used to do with stamps and coins. Miles gathers that this is her most prized possession, and he curses. Even he knows that kids her age should have a favourite stuffed animal or something. He sees them in Philly, dragging the dirty and old things behind them like they don't care, but never ever letting go of the beasts with a love that goes unrivaled.
"Oh," Charlie perks up, and quickly starts on putting on and tying her shoes. "I have something to show you," she grins, and shoots out of the tent like a lightning bolt. Just to run straight into the president.
Bass stumbles back but keeps his balance, only just stopping himself from falling backwards into the fire. He catches Charlie before she goes down as well, trying to catch his breath, which she knocked out of him quite literally. "Sorry, general Monroe," Charlie mocks with a fairly bad imitation of Bass' introduction yesterday, haughty and condescending.
She darts out of his grip and around his body, running to the spot they found her yesterday. Miles hurries to keep her in his line of sight, Bass following because leaving Miles alone and exposed is dangerous.
Though Charlie is going as fast as she can, the men can keep up with her with a jog, their longer legs closing the distance. The little Matheson is climbing over some rocks, careful so she won't slip. She walks confidently like she knows exactly where to put her feet as she slides over the slippery surfaces.
Miles is simply watching her with a frown above his brow, more curious at what she's doing that scared she will lose her balance and get dragged away by the river. "What are you doing, Charlotte?" Bass questions, keeping an eye on their surroundings. Miles is jumping in after her if she does land in the water, he thinks maliciously.
She turns around and glares at him for the full name, just like he expected, and petulantly doesn't answer. Instead, she takes another risky step and bends over, shoving a rock aside and proudly lifting a high quality crossbow for their inspection.
The way back is quicker, and she jumps the last three feet back to the generals, the weapon resting comfortably on her arm, which is almost long enough to be a perfect fit. "I found it at an abandoned hunting cabin we stayed at a few weeks ago," she says quickly before either of them accuse her of stealing. Frankly, the generals had been more worried that she'd looted it from a dead body, and are relieved the explanation is more or less innocent. "Mom and dad would take it away from me, so I hid it here with the arrows." She kicks aside a rock with some trouble and reveals a filled quiver.
"You know how to use it?" Bass teases, unsurprised to see Miles' niece so comfortable with a weapon. Charlie smirks, looking exactly like her uncle, and loads her crossbow. She heard the challenge, and accepts gladly.
Miles sighs, because he should've seen this coming. Then he realizes that he should probably be taking away the deadly weapon from her, or something. He watches her handle the crossbow with skill far beyond his own, and mentally shrugs. This is nothing she hasn't done before, and most likely figured out all by herself with nobody around to stop her.
"Rabbit." Bass and Miles look to the side, where she is pointing her arrow, just a second before she shoots. Neither of them even see the animal before it dies, Charlie's keen eye spotting the beast in seconds where the generals can't.
The shot goes straight through its side. Normally the eye would be best, but the men are surprised she even hit the rabbit from a hundred yards or so.
Charlie Matheson is not squeamish either, walking with quick strides and picking her prey up, drawing the arrow out with a wet plop. "Mom thinks her snares actually work," Charlie snorts derisively.
They talk on the short way back, getting more details about her experience with the crossbow. It's Charlie's task to check the snares her mother set up when they temporarily settled here. She hunts instead, rabbits and squirrels mostly. The little Matheson uses the absolute minimum of words during her story, sounding more like she is giving a report than telling a tale.
"Fresh meat," Miles grunts to their men, who have been tearing down the tents, only the fire left burning. The soldiers cheer and thank him, a former SEAL moving to skin the rabbit.
"Thank her," Miles nods to his niece, a hint of pride in his tone. They think he is joking, and let the matter go, finishing up their task. The oldest Matheson stalls as long as he can, hoping that Rachel will still show even though she is late.
He wants to think the best of her, that she hasn't shown because she is looking for Charlie, but when he asks, his niece tells him that she stays out quite often, and that the search party will only start at dinner at the earliest.
Bass writes a ransom note, which a soldier will deliver while the others head back to Philly. Miles helps Charlie onto his horse before taking a seat behind her on the saddle.
Charlie looks in the faint direction of her town, the fact that she's allowed to leave still not hitting her. Miles and Bass are talking about the trip, which should be quick as all of them have a horse. The details escape her as her focus shifts.
She spots the locks of golden hair, so like her own, in the distance. Her mom is hidden in the bushes, her eyes wide and her focus shifting between the generals and her daughter. Charlie meets her eyes.
Rachel doesn't move, doesn't call out, just stands there and watches her daughter leave with the uniformed men, resting against Miles' chest.