Page 59 of Casualties of War
Chapter Thirteen
As Joaquim’s body crumpled to the sand, the other three shouted and cursed, reaching for their guns.
They were all on the other side of the boat from Adán. They turned to face the north end of the bay where dark figures leaned out from among the palms and vines to fire at them.
Adán leapt over Joaquim and ran. It was difficult to slog through the loose, fine sand and runwith his hands tied for it ruined his balance. He powered along, pushing his toes in deep for maximum purchase. It felt good to move at last.
The tree line was only twenty yards away. He reached it, hurdled a tangle of vines and pushed deeper into the trees. He did not try to be quiet. Speed was more important. He slammed against trees and snapped twigs and leaf litter. He lurched forward, keepinghimself moving.
It was even darker under the canopy. Everything was shadows and black shapes.
When the human shape rose from behind the trunk of a fig tree, Adán changed directions sharply, moving away from them.
They landed on his shoulders and sent him staggering through the growth, to sprawl in the soft green growing things and rotting vegetation. Musty aroma fanned his face. His breathblew out. He pushed up on his hands and flipped over to tackle whoever was on his back.
The long, sharp edge of a knife rested against his neck.
Adán grew still.
The slender, dark shape over him lifted a hand to its face. “Shh….”
Someone else crashed through the undergrowth. From the direction of the noise, Adán could tell they were following the path he had taken.
Chasing him?
He held hisbreath, his heart thudding, and listened.
No more gun fire sounded from the beach, just the one heavy-breather pushing through the trees.
Then, the soft whistling sound came again.
A muffled cry, cut off.
Silence.
The shape sitting on Adán lifted. They got to their feet. “You can get up now.” Their voice was high and light, making it impossible to judge gender.
Adán stared at the child-sizedsilhouette. “What are you? Five years old?”
“I’m twelve,” they said, sounding indignant. Adán decided it was a boy.
“Over here!” the boy shouted, startling Adán again. He lifted Adán’s hands and used the big knife to slice away the zip tie.
“Who are you people?” Adán demanded.
“We’re nobody,” said an adult voice behind him. Adán turned to face the larger man shape. He could see details nowhis night vision was adjusting.
“We’re the missing,” the boy added.
“Someof the missing,” the man finished. Behind him, more people collected.
“I heard about you,” Adán said, rubbing his wrists. “People have been disappearing from the north. A whole village just gone and dozens of other people, all in the last couple of weeks.”
“That’s us,” the man said. “Only, we didn’t wait around to becomeInsurrecto playthings, like some of them did.”
“We’re fighting back,” the boy said proudly.
Adán glanced at the silvery knife he waved.
