Page 99 of After 5

I held up a hand to stop her onslaught of questions. “No, we haven’t found the key, and…” I couldn’t get the words out.

“And what?”

“Caiyan was shot…by the boy I saved.”

Gertie stood speechless. “Is he…?”

I shook my head, but my eyes shone, and I hoped the darkness masked them. “But he’s hurt bad. I summoned Ace. I didn’t think he could come, but he did, and he took Caiyan back to headquarters.” I explained to her about the seer, and what would happen to the WTF if the Mafusos got their hands on that key.

“Thank the lord. Caiyan will be…” She stopped midsentence and I turned to see who caught her eye.

Sam walked toward us. His gangly legs ate up the ground.

Gertie’s eyes grew wide. “Here comes the soldier Marco knocked out.”

“He’s been helping me. Follow my lead.”

“Dr. Seuss, will you be staying here or moving to the Lady Farm field hospital? Got plenty more men there needs tending.”

Gertie bit her bottom lip at the name I’d chosen.

“Sure thing,” I said, but my mind was working on how to remove Marco without anyone asking questions.

Lanterns hung haphazardly from the trees as people shuffled between the men. A rather large gentleman laid toes up a few feet from me. His scraggly hair and long gray beard gave me an idea.

“Sam, how far is General Lee’s horse?”

“Through them trees. I should probably git him. I don’t know where the general’s gotten off to.” He shot me an inquisitive gaze.

“I’m going to need a favor.”

Sam nodded.

“Get the general’s horse and meet us there, at the edge of the woods.”

Sam left to find the horse, no questions asked.

I dug in my medical pouch and located the pair of scissors. I walked to the large, dead man, bent, and clipped off his beard.

“What are you doing?” Gertie asked.

I knotted the ends together. “I think I can stick this to Marco’s little scruff of a beard and if we put him on the horse, with the darkness, I can pass him off as General Lee.”

“Are you batshit crazy?”

“Gertie, if we don’t call the shots, the outcome of this war may change. Men may die—”

“Or not die,” she cut me off.

“Gertie please. You know the orders, the moves General Lee made.”

“Damned if I don’t.” She shrugged.

“C’mon. We need to get the general on his horse.”

Gertie followed me inside the barn. The two-story structure reeked of the metallic scent of iron, tobacco, and uncleanliness. Men lay in heaps on the ground, each carving out a small space for themselves.

Marco was huddled in a corner, asleep.

---