Recruits (Keeper of the Water Book 2) (2 page)

I’m not successful. The bow shakes like crazy but I keep it aimed at them, doing my best to appear threatening. The two women look at each other smile.

“I
will
use this,” I warn them though my voice is less forceful and more squeaky. I don’t believe what I say so why should they?

They don’t and I’m about to learn why.

“The first step to properly using a bow is having an arrow,” says the woman with the spear.

I see that she’s right. I fumble with the quiver of arrows that Mr. Clark gave me, but they spill all over the ground. I don’t bother trying to pick them up because Jean-Baptiste senses the danger and starts to cry.

“Please, do whatever you want to me but don’t hurt my baby,” I plead, dropping the bow to show them I’ll no longer be trouble.

I turn the bundle around my body and coddle him to my chest, bouncing him lightly up and down. Jean-Baptiste can get very loud when he’s upset and I don’t want to provoke the magic women any more than I have.

“Shhhh,” I whisper to the baby.

The two women suddenly rush toward me and I wrap my arms around the baby. At least I can protect him in my final moments of life. I expect their sharp weapons to slice through my body at any second but they’re not interested in me at the moment.

“It’s okay, little boy, we aren’t going to hurt you,” says the short-haired woman, who’s left her spear leaned against the tree. She gently rubs the back of her fingers against Jean-Baptiste’s cheek and his cries instantly turn to giggles. Even the woman with the short blades can’t help smiling when she looks at the baby. “It’s been
years
since I’ve seen a baby, or any child for that matter. He’s beautiful.”

I’m too surprised by their sudden friendliness to thank her for the compliment. These women don’t look like the monsters our guide described.

“What are you doing with that group of men?” asks the one with the short blades.

“My husband convinced them to hire us,” I explain. “Mr. Clark and Mr. Lewis are very important men. They are traveling across the lands looking for a route connecting the two great waters. I speak the native tongues so I’ve been brought to translate with any tribes we come across.”

The two women glance at each other, their expressions turning serious. Did I say something wrong?

“It won’t be long now,” the spear-woman says. “The entire country will be opening up within the next fifty years or so.”

The other woman sighs. “We’re going to have to move
again
? Unless we try to stop the search party now…”

I don’t like the sound of that nor does Jean-Baptiste, who suddenly begins to cry again. The strange women look at me and I can tell they’re determining my fate. There’s nearly 50 armed men in the expedition but I have no doubt the women could stop them – or worse. And the best way to stop them would be gathering the rest of their tribeswomen, which would take time.

Killing me would give them that time…

“No,” the short-haired woman finally says, slowly shaking her head.

“It’s a mistake to let her live,” the other woman says.

“There’s no point. I’ve seen the way this country is expanding. Nothing will stop it, not even if we make these men disappear forever.”

“I’ve come to ask for safe passage through your territory,” I say. “We do not wish for trouble. We’ve been told you are fierce warriors, powerful women. We have the greatest respect for your powers and humbly request your permission.”

Again the women glance at each other. It’s obvious that the two women are not related but there’s obviously a connection between them.

“You knew we were dangerous but still you sought us out? Surely you must’ve realized how dangerous that could be,” the short-haired woman says.

I nod. “My husband sent me ahead to barter with you. I suppose I’m most expendable in our traveling party.”

“This is how your husband treats you? How he treats his baby?” asks the other woman, anger rising in her voice.

I would never dare speak ill of my husband to another soul, not even to Mr. Clark, who’s been kind to me and seems to dislike Toussaint. But there’s something about these deadly women I feel a connection with and I find myself saying things aloud that I’ve kept bottled up for so long.

“I am more his slave than his wife. He beats me whenever he’s drunk or he’s bored or he thinks I’ve acted badly. But I’d still rather take those beatings than the…
other
things he does to me so many times,” I say, the words flowing as freely as my tears. “My son has been made as a result of that monstrosity so that is a blessing. But now I must worry that he’ll kill us
both
one day. He was willing to sacrifice us for a few more pieces of gold, probably to buy even more young girls to turn into his wives.”

“And you just
let
him do those things to you?” snaps the woman with blades.

I suppose I expected sympathy so I’m taken aback by her sudden anger. Instantly I regret opening up. But the short-haired woman takes my hand gently and pats it. A surge of calm courses through me. She turns to her partner.

“She’s still just a girl and this is the only life she’s ever known. She doesn’t know that things can be different, that she can be stronger,” she tells the bladed-woman before turning back to me. “You do know that, don’t you? That you can be stronger?”

I shrug. “How?”

“Courage isn’t something that can be taught. But I know you have it, you’ve already proven that to me three times and I’ve only just met you,” she explains.

“I did?”

“She
did
?” echoes the woman with the blades.

Her partner nods. “First, you left an entire squadron of frightened soldiers to seek us out even though you understood the danger. Second, you stared down a massive buck without blinking. Third, you were ready to fight us with the bow though you clearly didn’t know how to use it and you knew we were deadly. Sounds pretty brave to me.”

“Sounds
foolish
to me,” the other woman says.

“Maybe it’s a little of both,” I say timidly.

“Maybe,” says the short-haired woman. “But I sense something in you, like somebody once sensed something in me when giving me a chance. So I have a very important question to ask you since your expedition is technically a threat to our way of life. Would you like us to kill your husband and the rest of those men?”

I’m speechless. She asks the question so matter-of-factly that I wonder if she’s joking. But she does not crack a smile and her partner – who hasn’t exactly acted friendly toward me – begins to stretch as if readying for a fight. I can’t picture in my mind how these two women with primitive weapons could possibly defeat so many armed men. But they’re so confident and nonchalant with the offer that it sends a chill running down my spine. I have no doubt they can follow through with what they say.

And that means I now hold the lives of fifty men in my hands. Another surge rushes through me but for the first time in my life I feel empowered. All it would take is the slightest nod of my head and I’ll be free, my baby will be free, my husband will finally pay for his cruelty and the pain he’s made me suffer. Mr. Lewis and the rest of the soldiers treated me like an object so why shouldn’t I think of them the same way?

But not Mr. Clark. Thinking of him and the kindness he’s shown makes me feel ashamed for even considering the offer.

“Thank you but that won’t be necessary,” I say.

The woman with the blades sighs. “I was looking forward to some action.”

“And
I’m
supposed to be the bloodthirsty pirate?” the short-haired woman asks her partner. She turns back to me. “Your decision shows courage and selflessness, even though you
are
doing it for a bunch of
lowly
men…”

“I believe what they’re doing is noble and will one day benefit this young country, make it a better place for my son,” I say. “So do I have permission to pass through your lands without trouble?”

The short-haired woman nods. “As long as you do so quickly and remain on the path.”

“Stay on the path,” the other woman reiterates. “Because we’ll be watching; you won’t see us but we
will
see you. If anyone tries to veer off the path and locate our tribe, we
will
attack. And there’s no promise you won’t get caught in the crossfire.”

I look to the kinder woman to suppress her partner’s veiled threats but she merely nods her head in agreement. Though she’s been friendly, it’s not hard to imagine why she’s
not
a person to take lightly. I don’t know how many are in their tribe but that’s something I don’t want to discover any time soon.

“Thank you,
both
of you, for your kindness,” I say. “I’ll be sure to explain the importance of staying on the path to the men.”

“You better,” the bladed woman says and already turns to head back into the forest. But the short-haired woman hangs around long enough to offer me her hand.

“You are stronger than you think, don’t forget that,” she says.

“I won’t,” I answer, though I’m not exactly sure I agree with her. Still, I take her hand and feel the slightest tingle of energy where our skin meets.

“You’re a special girl and I have a feeling this won’t be the last time I see you,” she says. “Good luck on your journey.”

The woman turns and grabs the long spear leaning against the nearby tree. She takes a few steps into the heavy woods. I know she’s only a few feet away but I barely see her as she blends into her surroundings; no wonder they’ve been able to keep an eye on the expedition without us noticing.

“My name is Anne by the way,” she calls out, the voice of a ghost. “What’s yours?”

“I am called – ”

“I’m Sacajawea,” I yell excitedly, wondering how it took this long to figure it out. The van swerves around another big truck that
honks
its horn the same time I make my revelation. I’m so eager to tell Celeste about my memory returning that I lean my head into the van while continuing to balance my body in the window frame. “I remember who I am. I’m Sacajawea!”

The rush of speeding air and the police siren’s
wailing
behind us still make it hard to hear but Celeste looks at me in shock.

“
Now
you remember?” she calls back.

A gunshot explodes louder than all other noises and the passenger side-view mirror explodes. The bullet must’ve missed me by inches, the thought of which immediately makes my focus on the
present
instead of the past. If I let the police officer fire another shot and they hit me, it won’t matter
who
I really am.

I raise the bow and fire, barely taking time to aim. But that doesn’t matter. As usual, my aim is tried and true. The arrow pierces the tire of the police cruiser, causing them to swerve off the side of the road and into a sign for the interstate. The crash doesn’t look to be that bad, which relieves me. I know I’m supposed to worry more about myself and the Keeper and the Amazons – and
not
so much about men – but I don’t want to hurt people just trying to do their jobs. If I was in the same position as them, I’d be trying to chase us down, too…

With our tail gone for the moment, Celeste slows down long enough for me to climb back into the van. Adrenaline races so fast that my hands shake uncontrollably. I wonder how I could’ve possibly made that last shot. I try to take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. But we’re no sooner out of danger when two more cop cars
screech
around the corner and block our path.

“Hold on!” Celeste yells and cuts the wheel, turning us down a much smaller country road.

The slight tingling I felt minutes earlier fades and I’m certain we’re heading in the wrong direction. But when I try to explain this to Celeste, she holds up a hand to shut me up. For some reason, she turns up the radio even louder, as if we need a soundtrack or something for the chase. But it’s not even music she’s listening to; it’s some local news station that produces as much static as talking.

“Why are you listening to – ”

“Shhh,” she snaps. “This is what I need to hear.”

“
We’ve received word of a biplane theft occurring moments ago,
” says the newsanchor on the radio. “
The old-time plane was stolen from Zultanky’s Barnstorming Pocono Tours at a local airfield. Authorities ask everyone to be on the lookout for the suspicious plane, which can not get very far since its small gas tank makes for a short flight range. We’ll keep you posted on any new details. In other news…
”

Celeste turns the volume down and leans her head forward, trying to get a better view of the sky. She pays little attention to the police cars gaining ground behind us, or to the traffic in front of us for that matter. We nearly plow into a minivan but she turns at the last second – now it’s
her
side-view mirror that gets taken off. It takes me a few seconds to figure out why she’s so interested in the news report
and
looking toward the sky.

I lean forward and check the sky, too.

“Do you think John’s other soldier kidnapped Cassie and stole the plane to get away?” I ask, the idea filling me with dread.

“I don’t know who took her,” Celeste says, still scanning the sky. “But that brute could barely tie his shoes let alone fly a plane.”

“Then who do you think took it?” I ask.

Celeste doesn’t have the chance to respond, not that she ever gives me a straight answer anyway. A new sound suddenly joins the symphony of rushing wind and police sirens:
whirring
airplane engines. I look back toward the sky and spot a low-flying yellow plane. It looks old and makes me wonder if the Red Baron had a twin brother who flew yellow. The plane soars low and slow, crawling beneath the clouds, and I worry it’ll plunge out of the sky.

“Take the wheel!” Celeste yells.

“Huh? Why?”

But she already let go and grips the rearview mirror in both hands. There’s barely space for me to reach across and grab the steering wheel. I yank it to the side just before we smash into a school bus. Celeste loses her balance and crashes into me. It’s a miracle I keep control of the wheel and stop us from driving off the side of the road.

“Would you take it easy?” Celeste snaps at me as she finally yanks the mirror off the windshield. “You’re going to get us killed!”

“Me?” I snap back. “You could at least let up on the gas!”

“And let
them
catch up?” she asks, gesturing back to the cops.

For good measure, she pushes down the gas pedal as far as it’ll go. Before I can complain, she leans out of her open window. I have no idea what she’s doing and can hardly watch her to figure it out. All of my concentration is focused directly in front of me and I jerk the wheel from side to side, somehow avoiding disaster after disaster. If my reflexes were anything less than superhuman, we wouldn’t have survived more than a few seconds.

“It’s not working, there’s too many trees along our side of the road,” Celeste calls out.

“
What’s
not working?” I call back. Whatever it is that’s not working better work soon – I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.

“Drive into the sun!” she yells.

Our side of the highway is shrouded in the shade of trees as far into the distance as I can see. The only area where the sunlight reaches ground is on the other side of the road so I don’t know where Celeste could possibly want me to –

Uh oh!

“Are you insane? I yell, realizing exactly what she expects me to do. ‘There’s just as much traffic on that side!”

“I don’t have time for arguing! The plane is almost out of sight!” Celeste yells.

She leans back into the van, pushes my hand aside and jerks the wheel to the left. We’re suddenly in the middle of the sunlight – and right in the middle of oncoming traffic. Celeste swerves in and out of the first few cars before ordering me to take the wheel. I just want to close my eyes until this nightmare is over but I grab the wheel as she leans outside. As if dodging speeding oncoming traffic isn’t hard enough, a glint of sunlight reflects off the mirror in Celeste’s hand and shoots an explosion of brightness into my eyes.

My vision clears just as a huge SUV
honks
its horn. I spin the wheel at the last second but hear a loud
clang
as
something
makes contact with the other vehicle. My heart sinks thinking that we were close enough that
Celeste
could’ve hit the SUV. But she climbs back inside, holding only a small piece of the mirror.

“You could’ve warned me it was going to be that close,” she says, taking back control of the wheel. “I wouldn’t have held the mirror out so far. I just hope the pilot spotted my signal.”

The police sirens behind us transform from a loud
wail
to a weak
whine
. I turn around to see that both cars tried following us into oncoming traffic – and now both cars are smashed on the side of the road. If my life wasn’t in such immediate danger, I would feel terrible about putting so many others in mortal danger.

“Keep your eyes forward,” Celeste tells me. “I can’t drive
and
look for – ”

She stops talking as we narrowly avoid several more catastrophes. She finally veers back into the proper lane, driving us back into safety – at least for the moment.

“ –
and
look for a signal from the plane,” she finishes.

I search the sky for the yellow biplane and see it suddenly rock slightly from side to side, like it’s waving a wing. It suddenly banks to the side and veers off in the same general direction we’re headed. When I tell Celeste what I see, she sighs with relief, strange timing considering three more cop cars have joined the chase behind us.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” I ask.

But she still drives so fast that conversation isn’t exactly an option. I’m not sure she heard my question until she gives me a brief explanation – not that she does anything but raise more questions.

“Help is near,” she says with a smile. “Maybe I should’ve kept help even closer once I became suspicious of John. At least our helper stayed close enough for a moment like this.”

Help? Stealing and flying an ancient plane? Every time I begin to accept the awful reality of what happened near our cabin, a moment like this pops up and fills me with unrealistic hope.

“Are you talking about my father?”

Celeste frowns. “I’m sorry but now that you know more about him, I’m sure you understand this century didn’t suit him very well. He could hardly operate a car let alone fly an airplane. You can tell I’m not the biggest fan of men in general – that’s what happens spending thousands of years protecting the water from them – but your father ended up being very trustworthy. I’m sorry that he’s dead.”

“Then who – ”

A cop car drifts around the corner of a small access road and smashes into the van’s driver side. It momentarily forces us off the road and we’re headed straight for a big wooden sign. Celeste steers us back onto the pavement, barely avoiding disaster. We were off road for only a second but my mind still had time to register exactly what the sign said.

Hickory Run State Park. It’s one of many beautiful state parks in the area but not exactly in our neck of the woods. This police chase has taken us farther from home than I realized. I still have plenty of questions for Celeste – including
how
she plans to escape from the swarming police – but it’s probably better if I let her concentrate on driving. I don’t know how many more close calls we’ll survive.

A high-speed police chase isn’t exactly conducive to deep thinking but that’s exactly what I end up doing. My memory is so wide open now that I only need a brief moment to be taken away. The speeding cars and
blaring
police sirens and low-altitude biplanes fade from my view and my mind takes me back to a much simpler time…