Witness : The Path to the Mountains by K. Olsen |
The patter of gunfire woke me from my fitful sleep. Thaïs was already awake, gripping her rifle tightly. There was no sign that the fire was aimed at us, at least for the moment, and the truck still growled along the rutted road. Brygos’s cheerful humming stopped abruptly as he realized what the sound was. The window separating us from the cab slid open. “We’ve got a skirmish up ahead. It’s off to the left, but it’s closer than I’d like.” “Who is fighting?” I asked, straightening up. I was still exhausted, but the very mention of combat sent an electric current through my veins. It was that seductive mix of excitement and absolute terror that I would always feel in battle. They say you are always at your most alive when dancing with death. Brygos frowned, worry lines etching themselves into his brow. “I don’t know. No one from our little caravan.” I shifted to get up. “I will see. Slow your pace to where I can catch up, but keep moving.” “You are not going alone,” Thaïs said fiercely. Our driver reached through awkwardly, holding a pair of binoculars out to us. “Take these. They work for watching birds, so they should work here.” Brygos slowed the vehicle so we could jump out. I grabbed the binoculars and led the way out of the truck’s covered back, with Thaïs following close behind. The entire area around the road was rolling hills and craggy desert, with a few dried river beds lined with creaking dead brush. Like desert lizards, we scrambled up the back of a rocky hill, tall enough to give us a good look at the raging combat. Even without the binoculars, those monstrous military trucks heavy with armor were obvious. “Well, the State is here,” I muttered, lying flat on my stomach and keeping my head low between two rocks. Thaïs watched from another crevice. “They’re about to have a bad day.” I caught sight of a cylinder resting on the shoulder of one rebel figure as he popped out of cover. “Maybe not.” I assumed it was just a rocket-propelled grenade, something that would damage the truck but maybe not demolish it. Instead, it fired and there was an enormous explosion. Thaïs’s eyes widened in alarm at the boom and sight of destruction. “What the hell was that?” I bit my lower lip for a moment, watching the other trucks pull away as fast as they could. Another shot followed them, hitting another vehicle in the rear and blowing it to pieces. “Wire guided missiles. I wish we had some of those.” As I watched them, the rebels abandoned their hiding places to celebrate once the military was out of range, one holding up a flag. We were too far away to hear their cheering, thank God. “Thaïs, what does the Burning Star’s symbol look like?” Her whole body tensed, particularly her grip on her rifle. “A crimson five-pointed star with a circle at the center.” I crawled backwards away from the slope before they spotted the gleam of the binoculars. “Three guesses on who sent the government packing.” “Everyone’s favorite religious extremists?” Thaïs’s tone was as dry as the desert earth beneath us. I nodded. “We need to get back to the trucks and get out of here before they spot us.” I didn’t have to say it twice. We scrambled down the hill, covered in dirt and little burrs from some grasses. Brygos was still rolling slowly enough that we could catch him at a sprint and clamber into the back of the truck. I hit the bed a little harder than I meant to after swinging over the tailgate, bashing my knee. Thaïs winced sympathetically. “Well?” Brygos asked through the open window of the cab. I held my knee, silently cursing for a moment before I answered him. “The Burning Star just pushed the military back. If we don’t hurry, they could turn on us.” “The road is hard-packed enough not to send up much dust. I’ll let the others know on the radio.” Brygos turned his attention to the radio and left us to our own devices in the back. “How are they already so close?” Thaïs still clutched her rifle as if it could ward off evil. “Last I heard, they had only taken Agapetí in the southwest. We need news, to know how far they’re pushing. They might threaten the valley.” I considered that for a moment. “Zelen still has four big garrisons of soldiers they would have to chew through before getting to us. What I want to know is who gave them those weapons. A missile like that doesn’t just fall off a truck.” It went without saying that the moment we pushed the State out of the valley, we would have a second fight to contend with if the Burning Star really had spread. “What friends do they have?” Thaïs was quiet for a minute or two, mulling that over. In certain ways, such as understanding power, she was much wiser than I was. “There are countries beyond Astera with old grudges. A few aren’t so far from the Star itself in their beliefs. I suppose it is no surprise that some would sell or give weapons to anyone like that spitting in the government’s eye.” I grimaced. “We are going to have to fight them both. Perhaps at the same time.” She nodded, still thoughtful. “There may be ways to appeal to other nations for aid.” “They will have strings attached,” I warned. Thaïs gave me a strained smile. “I know. Still, it may be worth doing. We will see what the others say. We’re not far from the mountain passes now.” “Let us hope the Zajjí is still open.” The pass in question was a narrow, rocky thing that would have been a nightmare to assault, full of winding turns and places where snipers or artillery could easily be placed. The most recent rumors we had were that the rebels had taken control of it, but there was always a chance that things had changed since we heard of them. In a war like ours, territory was a fluid concept. We drove on through the night, changing drivers when needed and refueling from the giant barrels of petrol carried in the back of Zita’s truck. Our supplies were running lower and lower as we reached the pass. All of us knew the trucks would likely run dry before we made it entirely over the pass. Already Brygos and the others were calculating out how much water each of us could carry, how much seed, how many supplies. We were, however foolishly, counting on the villages that stood at the far foot of the pass. To the refugees from Raklidí, the seed was almost more important than the water. It represented future crops, heirlooms more precious than furniture or wealth, and important genetic diversity for whatever food was already being raised in the valley. Zita’s husband, Argyros, was driving several hives of bees in the back of his truck that would have to be carried as well. Mercifully, they were gentle creatures who didn’t seem to mind their boxes being handled with care. It would be a hell of a trudge over the pass, but it felt possible so long as there was no resistance. There weren’t enough of us to fight fiercely and on foot, an enemy could easily pick us off. Thaïs’s furrowed brow told me she was thinking hard about our odds as well. “It will be ugly, fighting to clear the valley. There are many soldiers with entrenched positions.” “The mountains have been Lathraí for thousands of years. I doubt the people of Zelen have forgotten their paths or how to fight along them. It took almost two years for Astera to push into the valley the last time and they paid bitterly for that. If they are fighting the Burning Star as well…” “And when the Star turns at us, armed by entire nations?” Thaïs asked softly. I knew she was thinking of her friend who died so horribly at their hands. If the Burning Star came and learned of her profession, she would be the first they would torch. I reached over, finding one of her hands with my own for a brief squeeze. “We will fight them with everything we have. I promise.” She flashed me a smile that didn’t reach her eyes or her heart, an expression meant to signal she was fine even when she was not. “Thaïs, I mean it.” “I know. I just…what if it is not enough?” I shrugged, uncertain what I could say that would convince her of anything. Her grip on my hand tightened. “Promise me you won’t let me be captured by them.” “I promise.” Her eyes pierced into mine like the points of needles, intense even for her. “Even if it means putting a bullet in my skull. I will not endure the horrors they heap on their victims.” My resolve faltered for a moment. “Thaïs—” “I mean it, Karsa. If you care about me, promise me you will protect me from that.” I thought of her story of the girl: the tire forced down over her neck and shoulders, filled with gasoline, and set aflame after immeasurable cruelties were inflicted. However much I hated the idea of hurting Thaïs, I could understand why she felt this was the lesser evil. “I promise,” I said softly. “Even if it kills me.” She let go of my hand, leaning back against the wall of the truck. I could see the shine of tears flash in her eyes, but it was gone the moment after she blinked. “Thank you, Karsa. I knew I could trust you.” We slept fitfully that night in the back of the truck, both caught in those fears that strike their hardest when the sun has set and fatigue finally claims the mind. By morning, the trucks were crawling up the massive slopes of the pass on the last of their fuel. The mountains that surrounded us like the jagged teeth of some world-devouring beast scraped the sky itself, some of the peaks lost in clouds. The higher reaches would be an unseasonable, bitter cold despite the heat that flooded so much of the countryside. Altitude sickness was a danger, but if we took the slopes carefully, we could avoid the worst of it. The valley itself was at a significant altitude elevation, almost 8,000 feet. “What a hike,” Thaïs said, peering through the window into the cab where she could see the path ahead through the windshield. I smiled despite all our worries in the night, relieved that we were so close to our destination. “Good thing you are wearing your sensible shoes.” Thaïs actually laughed at that, turning to face me. “You mean stripper heels are inappropriate attire for mountain climbing?” “While I’m sure it would look fabulous, you probably wouldn’t make it ten feet,” I said as the truck growled to a stop. “Unless, I suppose, the mountain is a very large pole.” It was refreshing to hear Thaïs giggle after all the stress. Brygos opened the window of the cab, grinning when he heard Thaïs laughing. “Alright ladies, I hate to break up the fun, but it’s time to hoof it.” “Oh good. I have been practicing my pack mule face.” Thaïs shook her head, still giggling. I knew part of it was just merciful relief, but I liked to think I was adding something to it. “Let’s go already,” she said as her humor subsided. “I want to see how you pull off the hooves.” I grinned at her and opened the back of the truck. The others were already jumping out of their vehicle and dividing up their burdens. Argyros was giving a few of the students from Seisa a lecture on how to care for the bees while carrying their hives. Those would by far be the most delicate things to make the journey, but they were essentially worth their weight in gold for all the good they did. Brygos handed me a satchel of seed packets to go with the big jug of water that I could wear as a backpack. Next came the bag of food, packed as tightly as possible to save space. Everything in that bag was as high calorie as possible for the climb. He took the two tents he had brought, strapping one to each hip before shouldering a backpack full of tools. Thais carried the first aid kit, another satchel of seeds, and her own water tank. I adjusted everything so it was as comfortable as possible. It was still an awkward load that would become more unpleasant the more we hiked, but I was happy to help. “Ready?” She smiled at me, trying to adjust the straps on the container of water so they didn’t cut into her shoulders. “Sure thing. I’m just glad I didn’t get saddled with bees.” “But they’re so cute,” Brygos said with a chuckle. Thaïs shook her head. “No thank you. I don’t like bugs in my hair.” “But that lovely black and yellow, it could be such a fashion statement,” I teased. The former madame frowned and swatted at me. “Pack mules are quiet, Karsa.” I grinned and started the ascent, picking my way along the old, rutted road with my rifle slung over my shoulder, it and its ammunition added to the weight I was carrying. This would be hard, but worth every inch. “Race you to the top.” Thaïs rolled her eyes and followed, a chuckling Brygos bringing up the rear. For a moment, we could forget we were at war.
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K. Olsen
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