Ramius and his team, minus Louis, trudged back toward Victory with mixed emotions. The death of Louis had cast sorrow upon all of them, but it had not cast any doubt on the promise of Eden. Ramius was relatively quiet, as were they. But Ramius was dealing with three imperatives.
The first two were shared among them. Louis was dead, and they needed to explain it and help the grieving family. Eden was an ideal situation, and they would move ahead and resettle there.
Ramius had to face the third imperative alone. It was the realization of the truth and how to handle it. So far, he had decided to keep the secret from even his closest friends. He wanted to be cautious and think it through. His instincts were to continue keeping it a secret. But he wondered whether he could or whether this was even the right thing to do. After all, people deserved to know the truth, didn’t they? He wasn’t sure.
As they dropped down to the bottom of the falls, near the spot where they had camped and fished just seven days earlier, Ramius thought about how much had changed in such a short time. He didn’t even consider himself the same person as before. How could he? His feelings of hope and optimism were now different. He carried such a heavy weight, and it was one that he would carry from now on. No. It was not right to throw this weight onto others, as the process of spreading the weight around would not lighten his load. It would only cast a burden onto others—perhaps onto the whole of humanity … at least that which remained.
Three days later, Ramius and his team ran into a westbound patrol near the river just outside of Victory. Everyone was jovial. News of Louis’s demise would be kept quiet for now.
It was a family matter—not one to be spread at the speed of fast couriers.
Before leaving, the patrol conveyed the rumors about the prisoners at the camp and the threat building to the east.
The next day, Ramius, Hook, Johnny, and Picket entered the village. Everyone took notice of them, and some waved in acknowledgement, but most looked on edge.
“First order of business, see your families,” said Ramius.
“I will do the same, and then go see Marcy and the kids before I check in with Marco.”
The other men did not envy Ramius for being the one who had to break the news. When he walked into his cabin, both Ana and Ramius Jr. were in shock, as they had not expected him back for another one to three weeks. After warm embraces were exchanged, Ramius Jr. was excused so that his parents could speak.
“I found it, darling! You won’t believe what we found.
It’s … it’s magical.”
Ana was wide-eyed. “That is wonderful! When shall we go?”
Ramius’s mood darkened suddenly. “Louis is dead.” Ana gasped, putting her hands to her face. “Oh no! What happened?”
“An accident. I must go see Marcy immediately, before word is out that we have returned.”
“I will go with you.” Ramius nodded, relieved to have her there to help console in a way that only women were capable of.
They left the cabin with urgency, knowing that the rumors would be spreading with each passing moment. Despite their anguish and dread, they had to talk as they crossed town and headed toward Louis and Marcy’s place.
“There is talk. Some men were caught up in the East Mountains. Savages. They attacked our soldiers. Now, they are in the jail. I was told that they are part of a large group and may be coming our way.”
Initially, Ramius just nodded and absorbed. Then, he spoke. “Louis fell from a high point. He died instantly. He was alone with me. The rest had taken a different route. Louis and I discovered the place—the place where we will settle. But we can’t just leave. I need to figure out first how to go back there and prepare. We would have stayed longer had it not been for the accident.” Ramius needed time to secure the cave and prevent it from being discovered by others until he understood more.
“How far is it?” asked Ana.
“Four days at a full press. Typically, it would be maybe six days. It’s not that it’s far, but some of the terrain is difficult, so it won’t be easy to move anything there. We will have to start fresh.” Ramius continued, “It is alive with herds and a giant lake with many fish. There is no evidence that people have ever settled their before.” He was not being completely truthful.
Finally, they arrived at Marcy’s. They took deep breaths, and Ana was holding back tears. Ramius knocked, and Marcy opened the door smiling. But then, as she looked at them, she sensed that something wasn’t right, and her blood ran cold.
Rusty and Harper scrambled for high ground. They were not completely sure where to find Manfred and the rest of the team; they knew only the general direction to take. When they finally crested the highest peak they could find, they surveyed below carefully. Some distance north of them and on a lower elevation ridge, they spotted Manfred’s team—roughly thirty strong—jogging single file along the ridge.
There was no way to get their attention, so they took off to try to intercept them. By the time Rusty and Harper had dropped down to the canyon floor below, Manfred and the rest had passed, so they sped off at full speed, trying to pick up their tail. About half an hour later, they caught the tail and sent up a secret audible call, birdlike, instructing the others to stop.
Finally, Rusty and Harper reached the middle of the pack and found Manfred waiting impatiently.
Following the briefing, Manfred directed the group to take higher ground for the night. Rusty and Harper decided to return to support their squads under Buckley. They doubled back up the canyon trail and decided to do the same climb, which would take them back the way they had come. They raced back up the trail for nearly half an hour and then started looking for the best point to jump off and climb up over the pass.
Suddenly, they spotted dogs ahead. Worse yet, the dogs spotted them and raised the alert while barreling toward them.
They immediately jumped off the trail and headed up the steep hills. It was clear in their minds that the dogs would catch up soon. But it was not clear whether there were men in the immediate vicinity. They could hear the dogs approaching rapidly from behind. It sounded as if there were three or four of them.
Rusty was armed with only his knife, while Harper had a knife and a short spear. When the dogs seemed to be already upon them, the men stopped and stood ready, weapons drawn.
The dogs halted and stalked, moving amongst themselves and looking for an opportunity to attack. There were three of them, and they were muscular and looked aggressive, but they were not very large. Rusty and Harper felt that they could handle them. In fact, the dogs did not attack, but they kept barking loudly. It became apparent that they were calling for more support. The men heard other dogs answering the cry, and soon, a second group of perhaps a dozen dogs and the same number of men was scaling the hill and heading toward them.
“If we run toward Buckley, we will only give them away!” stated Rusty.
They now knew the importance of the warnings that they had just passed along to Manfred. And now, they were the ones who were trapped and were faced with fewer and fewer options. When the dogs did not attack, it left them paralyzed in a standoff. Now, there were bigger numbers close behind the first set of animals.
“Harper, we will die fighting or be captured!” yelled Rusty.
“Let’s run!” blurted Harper.
The two men took off up the mountain, taking the only opening that was still available. The dogs charged, barking at them, and the approaching men yelled, also outraged as they followed the dogs up the hill. This time, the dogs became more menacing than before, charging from behind with intent.
Harper, who was now behind Rusty, wheeled and waved his large knife, catching one of the animals across the face. But it was futile. The dogs were outflanking them quickly.
Rusty stopped cold, forcing Harper to also halt immediately. The men swung their knives and waved the spear at the dogs, who snarled and lunged but kept a slight distance while their masters closed in.
“Give up, ya bloody fools. Ye ain’t gettin’ away. We gotcha now, boys!” tormented the minions.
There was a protracted standoff, during which the Victorian men did not speak as they held their ground.
“C’mon! We jus’ wan’ talk to you boys. Don’ mean no harm.”
“Okay, we are listening,” replied Rusty. “We are just on patrol in our own territory. You should leave. If you want to talk, I can arrange for you to meet our leaders.”
“Oh, I think some of our boys gon’ an’ met your leaders.
Is zat right? We lookin’ fo’ dem, and we lookin’ fo’ da oriental, Mr. Li. You know ’bout dat?” asked the presumed leader of this group of minions.
“I don’t know about that,” Rusty lied.
“Das too bad you dun know. Cuz we need ansas, see?
Owa big boss need dem boys back raat now.”
“Yah, stop givin’ us yer shit,” said another one of the minions. “Take ‘em! Les take deez big muddas back wid us.” “Yah!” Yet another howled, which got the dogs wound up again.
Just then, a minion who was standing behind them moved in, rapidly lunging with his spear. Rusty jumped back, and then, now off balance, fell and tumbled. Several minions capitalized on this error and seized him, holding his arms while others held spear tips close to his body.
“You give up now, boy, o both a you die right ’ere.”
Harper finally capitulated and threw down his knife in frustration. They were now prisoners.
“Where are you taking us?” asked Rusty, once he was tied and forced to start marching down the hill.
“Weez takin’ you back to Saul.”
Later that day, Buckley and his men saw this detachment of minions and their dogs headed back down the slopes, and they could see that they had two prisoners who appeared to be Rusty and Harper.
“We need to get a message back to camp,” said Buckley.
“Ramius, we have a situation here! I don’t want to talk about new expeditions. If this man Li is being truthful, we might be going to war soon.”
“If the situation is that serious, we should plan for the worst case. Maybe we should send all nonmilitary women and the children and elderly to the south camp right now and take as many of the provisions as possible,” reasoned Ramius, now growing concerned. “If you really feel that the risk is serious, you must take steps immediately.”
Marco thought for a moment and then looked over at Zeus, who nodded in agreement and stated, “As a precaution, that’s a good idea.”
“Organize it!” snapped Marco. “Let’s have the people start leaving in two days and everyone gone within three. I don’t want Li or the prisoners to see or hear about it.”
Zeus and two other commanders saluted and left immediately to organize house-to-house visits.
“Ramius, you and your expedition team lead the women, children, and elderly to the south camp. I will assign Commander Herrero to accompany you. After all, it is your idea.”
“Thank you, Leader,” Ramius said respectfully.
Just as Ramius, Ana, and Ramius Jr. were about to leave as part of the first wave of caravans, Marco called an emergency council meeting; these were being held more and more frequently.
“Saul has two of our men as hostages,” Marco informed the council. “On top of that, there are upwards of eighty of Saul’s men armed and using many dogs. They are roaming east of here and coming this way. I have dispatched two hundred men and supplies to high positions, and they are ready to engage. But I fear that if we must repel these minions with deadly force, this will start a full war.”
“What does he want, this Saul?” voiced one council member.
“They have a large population and dwindling reserves.
They are desperate. Apparently, they are cannibals,” explained Marco. “They even eat their own dogs. Our soldiers have found the remains. Ramius, make haste and help us protect our most vulnerable.”
The entire council turned to Ramius concerned, as they were mostly elderly and were, therefore, considered among the most vulnerable.
Rusty and Harper were thrown into the pen, along with the doomed and the damned, as a way to soften them up. They had already witnessed a few daily “harvests” and were now in fact becoming quite softened up. It didn’t help that the rabble outside would sometimes line the fences, calling out to them and commenting that they looked delicious.
On the fourth day, minion soldiers came into the pen and grabbed them. They thought for sure that they were headed to the butcher, but they were in fact headed to Saul’s cabin.
When they were shoved through the cabin door, hands bound and ankles tied together, they still looked defiant and unbroken. Megan caught Harper’s gaze and was immediately captivated. She had no idea that men such as these existed; he was so tall, handsome, and calm looking After being subjected to interrogation and mental abuse, Saul angrily had the two men sent back to the pen to “await their turn.” Megan was distressed to hear this.
Late that night, Megan went with her sister, Angie, to pen to find the handsome prisoners, especially Harper. The girls stood along the fence but away from where other spectators gathered. Both men slowly strolled over toward the part of the fence that the girls were peering through. Angie pulled out some fresh bread and discreetly handed it to the men through the fence. Rusty took it, and he and Harper ate discreetly so as not to attract attention from other prisoners, guards, or spectators.
“Thank you!” Harper said in a whisper. “Can you help us? If you get us out, we can take you with us to a beautiful place not far from here.”
This was precisely the hope that Angie and Megan had.
They longed to escape from Saul and the minions.
“Hey, you! Git away from dem!” A guard shouted, scurrying in their direction to break up the fraternizing.
The men quickly chewed and swallowed. Angie pulled out a small knife, which she then dropped on the ground just outside the fence, and she made sure that Harper and Rusty saw her do it. At this point, the girls walked away quickly, not wanting to be recognized by the guard, and the men walked toward the guard to divert his attention away from where they had been standing—the place where the tool for their survival now lay waiting.
“You lousy bastads chattin’ up the local girls. Dang! That make me angry, an’ I wanna kill ya fer it!” yelled the guard as he came within striking distance and lashed Harper on the legs with his long whip. Harper winced in pain and seared with anger. But he dealt with the pain and kept his cool, knowing that there was hope for him and Rusty. Given the dogs, it wasn’t clear how they might succeed in escaping, unless they were perfectly quiet. It was worth a try. Rusty and Harper kept intensive watch on the area of the fence precisely where they knew the knife was.
No one had gone near it from the inside or outside.
Much later in the night, just before dawn, Rusty walked toward the spot. When he arrived at the fence, he turned and looked at Harper for confirmation. Harper nodded, and Rusty squatted, reached behind with his bound hands, and began, feeling for the blade. When he had it, he immediately stood and walked away so as not to attract attention. But no one was stirring— not a single guard nor even a dog. The men discreetly cut their bindings, including the ones around their ankles.
“If we can get just a head start, they will never catch us,” Rusty whispered confidently.
“What about those girls?” Harper shot back.
“If we take them now, we will all be caught. They can’t run with us. It will put their lives in danger.”
Harper hung his head for a moment, not entirely comfortable with the plan. He then looked up and acknowledged the truth. But they would need to find a way to repay those brave women and save them in the future.
Fortunately, the pen was located near one end of the village, giving Rusty and Harper a way to sneak out more easily.
The challenge was getting over the fence. It was about six feet high and made of vertical slats of wood, which enabled them to see out and others to see in easily. All along the outside of the fence, there was an elevated plank that allowed the guards to walk along with only the upper halves of their bodies showing above the top of the fence as they viewed the prisoners.
Both Rusty and Harper were extremely fit and tall, which would enable them to pull themselves up over the fence, and they could see that there were no guards around on the side near their intended escape route. But they knew that guards with dogs were nearby, and only complete silence would give them the head start they needed.
“It’s quiet tonight. That’s not good,” observed Harper in a whisper. “I wonder how noisy getting over this fence will be.”
“I think we need to just go for it. Don’t hesitate. Just haul ass.”
“Let’s do it!” responded Harper.
They walked up to the point in the fence that looked the most promising. As they neared the fence, they looked at one another, nodded, and sprinted the last few steps to the fence. Laying their hands on top of it, they jumped as they pressed themselves up on now straightened arms, and swung one leg up to get a foothold on top of the fence. There was a clattering noise as they vaulted over, and dogs immediately erupted in song, which came from all directions. Even as the two men took their first few steps, they could hear voices joining in with the dogs in protest.
But it was all a blur to Rusty and Harper, who were now running on pure instinct and adrenaline. They ran between the huts and tents that still separated them from the open space to the north of the village. It took only about thirty seconds to clear the outer dwellings and turn left toward the mountains to the west. Rusty saw a straight, strong-looking stick and veered slightly to scoop it up without losing a beat. Harper then scanned ahead, hoping to find something similar.
They anticipated that the dogs would be coming soon.
But running flat out, they wouldn’t make it easy for the dogs.
They would be capable of maintaining a rapid pace for the next several hours, which would put them well over the top of the front range and deep into the canyons beyond. Based on what they had witnessed at the camp, they were now resolved to fight both men and dogs to the death. But they knew that there would be no men—only dogs. The only question was how far the dogs would go when giving chase. Two minutes in, they could hear the cacophony of barks and howls approaching them from behind. Harper found a stick and picked it up on the fly just as Rusty found a second one.
“Never stop! If we stop, we’re dead!” panted Rusty, still catching his breath and settling into his pace. Harper now had solid sticks in both hands, and he gripped them tightly. “The lead dogs,” Rusty continued, short of breath, “if they give up, so will the rest.”
“Yah! Got it,” replied Harper as the lead group of animals charged toward them, looking for where to sink their teeth.
The road was quite wide, and the men stayed side by side, separated only a little in an attempt to make the dogs split up. One of the dogs lunged ahead and tried to bite Harper’s left leg. “Haaah!” he yelled and swung his stick backward along his side, but he did not make contact. The dog then lunged again with incredible speed and ferocity, getting some purchase on the skin of Harper’s calf, but only superficially, as his legs were turning over at such a rapid pace.
This time, when Harper swung the stick backward aggressively, it made solid contact with the dog’s head. But the dog seemed unfazed and undeterred. Meanwhile, Rusty was handling two dogs, and just as one tried to come in on one side and grab him at the waist, another leaped from behind, trying to land on his back. When the dog’s paws made contact with Rusty’s back, he swung his body violently and waved the sticks, thwarting the attempts of both dogs.
“Yaaah! Yaaah!” The men both used loud cries as warnings to the dogs, to allay their own fears, and to bleed the adrenaline that was now at its maximum level.
“Keep going! Pick it up!” Rusty called out.
The men were feeling no small amount of fatigue brought on by their running, especially the use of their upper bodies, as well as their fear as they swatted at the dogs. Then, Harper realized that they were dealing with only four dogs at the moment. “Hey! It’s only four! Set an example!”
At this point, Harper actually slowed a little and turned to swing, cracking one of the animals violently across the head.
When the dog veered to avoid another blow, Harper actually gave chase and hammered its hind section, which elicited a yelp of pain from the animal. Meanwhile, Rusty was giving lessons to two of the other dogs. His stick snapped in two when he whacked one of the animals across the snout as it came in for a salvo.
As they fell back into a steady run side by side, only one dog was still chasing them, but it simply ran beside them rather than making any aggressive moves.
“Yaah!” yelled Rusty, and he struck out toward the dog to try to take a swing. But the dog took evasive maneuvers and then slowed and gave up the chase. “Ha ha ha! You bastards!”
“Whew!” The men howled in victory as they continued running westward at a quick pace. But as they celebrated, they heard what amounted to a massive chase pack of dogs not far behind them.
“Oh shit! Come on!” cried Harper, and he and Rusty picked up their pace with renewed anxiety. They suddenly felt demoralized and fatigued all at once.
“Stay strong!” coached Rusty.
The dogs, which sounded like quite a few, were now almost upon them. Then, the unthinkable happened; it was something that Rusty couldn’t remember happening to him since he’d been just a boy. He tripped, stumbled, and dove headlong into the dusty, rocky trail just as a swarm of animals was at their heels. Harper had been a few steps ahead and didn’t notice immediately because of all of the noise, confusion, and his own fears pounding in his head. Then, he heard the cry and turned and saw his friend.
“Rusty!” he cried and stopped, facing off with a few animals that were all coming at him. But most of the dogs stopped to get their piece of poor Rusty, who was no longer visible beneath the blanket of dogs. Occupied with saving himself, Harper delivered some punishing blows to the few dogs who were coming at him, but he suffered some bites before being able to make the animals regret their actions.
“Rusty!” he howled again, but he knew it was futile. He felt tears and anger welling up, and he became animalistic and crazy as he endeavored to kill the dogs near him with single, mighty blows. But his survival instincts took hold, and he ran. He ran away from his friend, saving himself. He felt so much shame.
I am a coward, he thought briefly before having to regain his fighting instincts to enable him to fend off the dogs that were still on his tail.
But apparently the bulk of the dogs felt satisfied with the downing of a single warrior. Shortly thereafter, Harper was in the clear and was still able to run, although with some painful bites on his sides, forearms, and buttocks. He cried and yelled out in anguish for his friend and relief for himself. He still questioned himself: Am I a coward?
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