My former guard halts, staring. Then she lunges forward and grabs me in a crushing embrace.
“You’re alive, I can’t believe it. Princess.” She steps back, staring at me. “Where have you been? Never mind that. Let’s get you—”
Luza’s whistle comes at the same instant I register the sound of roaring engines, approaching fast. “Come on. Hurry.”
We scramble up to Luza’s lookout spot just as the first rider pops into view, followed by a whole string of motorcycles. They keep coming. I count at least twenty.
“10-33, urgent message, fleet of bikes headed north toward the ferry crossing, repeat, bikes moving north, fast.” Luza says into her walkie-talkie.
The device screeches. “We have them in view. What are orders?”
I take it from her, unceremoniously. “Shoot to kill if necessary. Try not to pop the tires. We have a hard enough time getting replacements.”
Slowly, we’re figuring out how to fix the bikes we’ve stolen. Fuel and tires are the two biggest problems. Learning how to ride them is another challenge.
Could Zosia have figured it out, alone, the night she disappeared? It seems unlikely, but she’s good at problem-solving like Saskaya is, and she’d at least seen such things during our time in the outside world. But if she managed to ride one, where did she go?
A chuckle from the walkie-talkie brings me back to the present. “On it, Princess.”
In the distance, gunfire.
We all fell silent, waiting for the report. Minutes passed. The engines faded into the distance. No word from our snipers.
“What do you think that was all about?”
“Don’t know. Maybe they’re using the bikes to transport goods and people, now that getting through with the wagons is harder?”
“Possible.” Turning to Orisa, I give her a quick visual assessment. Physically, she appeared unharmed, apart from that limp, but there’s a haunted look about her. “Where have you been all summer?”
“Hostage,” she says, simply.
My stomach hollows out. “No.”
Orisa stares into the middle distance. “I don’t really want to talk about it. They held me with other women and girls in a village they’d captured. We escaped when the fires came too close and the pirates panicked. The rest went through the marshes. I came this way.”
They were looking for her. That’s why there were so many pirates.
“Orisa—”
“I came to find out if you’d made it to Oceanside safely. I’m here to fight, Princess. Whatever it takes.”
Every day, I’m humbled by our people’s dedication to winning our country’s freedom despite impossible odds. Whenever I want to give up, or my father implores me to return to River Bend, I think of Ephram and Luza. Everything they’ve done to slow the invaders down has taken a toll. Luza has a son living with her parents in Oceanside. She’s seen him a handful of times since the invasion started. He’s our best runner, coordinating the other children.
Luza lives in terror that he’ll be discovered, but she doesn’t let it stop her.
Orisa’s resolve humbles me. I clasp her hand.
“We’ll get through this together.”
Luza’s walkie-talkie buzzes. She depresses the button, listening. It’s Ephram, back at camp.
“We’ve got a situation developing. Can you get to the southern rock ridge by evening?”
She glances at me. I didn’t want to embarrass Orisa by acknowledging her limp, so I hold her eye and ask, “Can you make it that far?”
She nods. I’m not sure I believe her. She’s strong, but she’s been through an ordeal and she’s tired.
“We’ll be there,” Luza assures Ephram before signing off. Within minutes, the three of us were trudging back toward the encampment. My selfish heart beat harder as we skirted the edge of The Boscage, wondering if Tovian was there, watching over me.
