Page 99 of Echoes of War

Unfortunately, a life worth living wasn’t based on love for so many others who were counting on us. Basing the desire to live on a fleeting emotion was foolish. Every time I loved something, someone, they were taken from me. The proof of that was all around me.

There were few people I had left in this world that I truly cared for. More than half of them had been stolen, and the rest were out there, fighting for me, for our home, outside of the realm of me helping. While I was fighting my way back to them this past month and a half on the road back from Duluth, I found myself fighting more for the person by my side.

I would not let him be taken from me, so I would not say the words because saying them meant goodbye was coming, and I was damn tired of saying goodbye.

We’d made good time on the way back home. Lola had spared one of the few horses they kept during our two-day stay and stock up with her people. It was because of her kindness that our two-month journey back was cut down nearly in half. For someone who Alexiares had built up to be all big and bad, she was a sweetheart when you dug really, really deep. I mean, yeah, she was rough around the edges, but who the hell wasn’t these days.

She had a funny way of showing it, but I could tell she found my attitude endearing. The real joke of it all was that she loved Alexiares. Too young to be a motherly figure to him but too old to be a sister. Lola was the aunt who claimed she didn’t want children of her own, pretended to be disgusted by their presence, but spoiled their nieces or nephews to no end.

Watching the two of them together reminded me of Prescott’s and my relationship. I missed him, couldn’t wait to get back to him. Riley too. They were both such an integral part of who I was that it was like missing a limb all these months without them.

I couldn’t wait to tell Prescott of our journey; he’d be thrilled in the most fatherly way possible. Stern, unimpressed glares were certain to be thrown my way when I spoke of the danger, but the sights we were able to see, the places we’d stopped through, I was living out his retirement dreams of The Before. I’d made sure to burn the image of places he’d talked about seeing in my mind, ready to recount them in the most exact way I could for his ever-moving mind.

Luna had always told him every detail of her travels. I watched him sketch out what she’d relayed, admiring the freedom yet peace they offered each other in their relationship. He’d tucked them into his maps like they were photos, promising that once he handed the place over to me, he’d set out with her.

While I hoped they’d have every opportunity to do so together, I also prayed I’d never be responsible for The Compound in its entirety. I was fine being general, no need to add the stress of politics, city planning, and extra responsibilities on top of that.

The horse made things easy. That was until we reached where war had already touched down. Of all the horses we’d set free in fear of being caught, I’d hoped at least some of them were running in the wild. Surviving.

We were still making good time, even without the horses. If all was going well, Reina, Moe and Abel would be making it homeany day now. If the weather held and our backup routes remained relatively battle free, we’d be right on their heels. A pit dropped in my stomach, everything was goingtoosmooth.

I sipped from my water, the slushing of flesh against blade singing a sweet song in my ear. Alexiares drove his new favorite blade into the torso of a Covert soldier repeatedly. A whoosh and barely audible groan seeped from him with each stab as he clung on to the tendrils of life.

“What the hell are you doing over there, painting a picture?” I asked, handing him my canteen to sip from.

He grabbed it, taking a long swig before handing it back with a newly adorned bloody handprint and reverted his attention back to his canvas. “It’s like art,” Alexiares said in between knife drives, “you have to be precise on where you hit. Each organ has its own lifespan after it’s nicked. If I hit the wrong one too soon, he dies quickly, or he chokes on his blood. He tried to touch you.” His knife extended out toward me, red liquid dripping from the tip. “Would you really want to be with a man who made his death easy?”

It was hard to feel sorry for him, he shouldn’t have tried to sneak up on me like that. He didn’t have any worthwhile information on Covert’s plans anyway, was just a worthless foot soldier who hadn’t the slightest clue who we were.

Unlike our armies, Covert’s had no women within their ranks. Instead, a caravan of women, typically in their prime, were paraded around naked to be auctioned off to the best performing soldier of each battle. Apparently, sexism and misogyny were more important to them than having the necessary bodies to defeat not one, but two territories in a full-fledged war. Not that I was complaining. As sad as it was, there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. That kind of mindset doesn’t die off with a slain leader. It would take generations to undo this damage.

Life for a woman in an apocalypse was already hard enough before all this, so I could seriously do without theconstant threat of being assaulted while I used the bathroom. That was actually pretty disgusting of him.

“I’m sorry … please. Just kill me,” the soldier begged.

Sighing, I glanced over at his paling skin now turning blue. “His cries for help are annoying me. Shut him up.”

“What’s wrong?” Alexiares asked, slitting the man’s throat then wiping his knife on his shirt and leaning over for a kiss. He frowned when I pulled away instinctively. “Did you want a turn?”

I laughed, brushing up against him, letting him know I was annoyed in general and it had nothing to do with his behavior. He grinned at the slight show of affection, helping me slide my binoculars from around my neck. “Why does something have to be wrong?” I asked.

“Because you’re quiet. You are never quiet,” he teased.

I rolled my eyes, my lips pulling to a thin line. “That’s not true, and nothing’s wrong.”

“Lie again.”

We were on the outskirts of Montello, which no longer appeared to be an option to stop through for a solid night’s rest due to the incessant gunfire erupting not far off. It wasn’t a full-on battle, but there were enough Covert Province troops setting up camp in the area that made me fully aware one was in the imminent future.

A corral-shaped metal cage shimmered in the distance. Men, women, and children alike clambered atop each other, trying to gain a spot against the railing for a gasp of air. Guards posted around the sides watching the ongoing battle.

“You mean aside from being a general of not one but two territories that are counting on me, and that I’m currently cut off from all communication until we make it home? Or are you speaking of how easy this journey back has been wearing on my anxiety given the fact thatnothingin my life the last five years has everbeen easy? Oh, I know! You must be talking about the weight that knowing if I die, everyone except Covert is thoroughly fucked.”

Alexiares grabbed my face, forcing me to peer up and meet his glare. “You’re not dying, neither of us are.”

“Yeah, well, you nor I control that, now do we?”

“Look,” he said, grabbing my binoculars, he peered down into the rugged desert terrain where Montello sat in front of the little mountain. “Finley’s people made it here. The gunfire you hear is goingoutof Montello. Ain’t shit getting in.”

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