“Max and Britt are more than capable of maneuvering their way around the soldiers. They’re probably just waiting for the right opportunity to leave,” Thomas said, sounding unsure.

“Max knows his way around the forests better than these soldiers do,” Bo added. “Last night, just before we went to bed, Max told me that if anything bad were to happen and they didn’t return, we were to meet at our foster parents’ home. It’s on the opposite end of Brookside, near the plains and just as remote. It’s possible that we might be safer there.”

“What about the fact that your parents hate Max?” Kirsten asked.

Bo’s jaw slackened slightly, and he raised his brow as if she’d spoiled a secret.

“What, don’t act like us knowing is a surprise. Max mentions it all the time,” Kirsten said.

“They don’t need to know Max is with us,” Bo said.

“So, we should go there. Like now,” Thomas suggested.

“What about her?” Bo asked.

Kirsten cleared her voice, “Excuse me. I’ll decide if I’m able to go somewhere. And yes, I think we need to leave.”

“But you’re weak,” Bo said.

“I’m feeling better now, thank you,” Kirsten said, wiping the corner of her mouth. Her head still swirled, and the fog lingered, but not as thickly as before. She stepped forward and forced her legs to stop wobbling as she walked past Bo, “See, ready to go.”

“What about him?” Bo nodded to the man lying on the floor.

“I have an idea,” Thomas said with a grin.

As they prepared to leave the house, Kirsten grabbed one of the packs Max had brought up from Solomon’s trunks in the cellar. Thomas and Bo stripped the soldier of his clothing and Thomas helped Bo put it on.

When Kirsten had finished filling the pack with what little food scraps they had left, she watched as Thomas fitted Bo with the armor. “I guess you’re our designated disguise man,” she said when Thomas had finished suiting him.

“I guess that’s what happens when you’re the one whose body type best fits into these bulky suits,” Bo said with a shrug.

Kirsten couldn’t help admiring his physical appearance in the suit. He was larger than his brother and did look good as a man of action. Clearing her throat, she brought her gaze back to Bo’s face, “How long will it take to us to get there?”

“That depends on how fast we can travel,” he shrugged. “Could be a few hours or the whole day, depending on how well we’re moving.”

“Right then,” Kirsten said moving toward the door. “Better get a move on.”

Bo was the first to leave the house. Kirsten stood back as his armor-enhanced frame filled the space. She leapt back when she saw the group of soldiers outside making their way toward the home. Grabbing Thomas, they huddled against the wall, out of sight. “Where are these soldiers coming from?” she whispered, peeking through the gap in the open door and seeing Bo step out toward the men.

She watched as the group saw Bo come out of the house. Bo lifted an arm to them, and they turned, walking back toward the others waiting along the trail. Kirsten watched as Bo turned and circled to the backside of the house. He’d left the door open and Kirsten could see the troop begin to move again, making their way toward Brookside.

“What’s going on?” Thomas asked.

“I think Bo signaled to them that the house had been searched, so the men turned around. Now it looks like they’re moving on and I don’t see Bo anymore,” she told Thomas.

“I hope he didn’t get swept up into their group,” Thomas said.

They waited until the troop of soldiers moved out of sight. A few minutes later they found Bo waiting near the side of the tree. Kirsten handed the backpack to Thomas, “That was close. How many more times is this going to happen today, I wonder?”

“We’d better stick to the woods,” Bo said. “The trail has been swarmed by a steady stream of soldiers all morning.”

“Can we get to your folks’ place easily?” Kirsten asked, eyeing the thicket of trees and heavy undergrowth in the woods surrounding the clearing where Solomon’s home stood.

“I know a way,” Bo nodded as he led them into the forest. Kirsten was glad to have Bo in disguise: then at least they could fake being his prisoners if need be. Bo led them down the main trail following the soldiers before cutting off into the woods. As she looked one last time at the trail to Brookside, she hoped Max and Britt really could evade such a large group of soldiers.

Chapter 63

An Ugly Truth

Grabbing a fistful of grass in each hand, Max pulled himself up onto the bank. Out of the water, he rested belly down, while his legs drifted in the languid current. Lifting his head slowly, he chanced a glimpse over the brook’s edge. As he looked up, Britt joined him, sliding on her stomach and remaining motionless as they stilled themselves in the lush reeds along the shore. Keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon, Max examined the best route to their next destination, the millhouse. Lurking along the bank just upstream of the watermill, they lay half in the water as Max sought to outmaneuver the soldiers.

After their near capture in Brookside, they now returned to the seaside town in hopes that the men looking for them would continue their search deeper into the surrounding forest and not back in town where all of the fuss had begun. The armed men in uniform continued to patrol the outer limits of Brookside, but luckily for Max and Britt, they were focusing their efforts on land. None of them had thought to look in the shallow brook as the two drifted past their guards.

Max slid down the bank and into the water once again, Britt following. He signaled to her that they would keep going downstream a little farther. He admired how this captain handled the insurmountable pressure, keeping her cool in the face of their enemy, more so than he had been able to. He had almost broken off from their hiding place in the tree, giving in to his instinct to run, but Britt’s steady demeanor inspired him to keep still. If she hadn’t been with him, he would’ve run. If he had run, the three soldiers they’d met on the trail would’ve captured him.

With the millhouse waterwheel in sight, Max led Britt past several homes and outbuildings lining the brook’s edge. They stayed low to the surface as they swam, hoping nobody within view of the brook would see them as they passed by. Max’s eyes bounced between either side of the bank, trying to discover whether anyone could see them through an open window or gap in the closely developed homes. If they did, he would know when they should run.

As they approached the churning waterwheel, Max took two strokes to his left and drifted in behind the wheel. He hoped the mill’s splashing would mask any noise they might make climbing out of the water. As he pulled into the disturbed water behind the wheel, Max eyed the shoreline. He could see the brook bending to the left. At the water’s edge, just before it arched out of view, he noticed the profile of someone kneeling at the water’s edge. As Britt came in behind him, Max decided that the woman washing clothes in the distance wasn’t a threat. Most likely, she wouldn’t notice them as her back angled toward them. Her head was down in concentration on her task. Max carefully crawled out of the water, checking first to see if anyone was standing nearby.

He could hear Britt close behind him, the sound of the water pouring from their clothes concealed by with the splashing wheel. Max crouched as he advanced swiftly from the shore to the back of the mill’s brick building. With the flat of his back against the wall, he quickly checked to either side to make sure no one had seen him sneak between the wheel and millhouse. He felt the water collecting in his sleeves and pant legs as Britt joined him. The two stared at one another for a brief moment. They’d made it this far, yet both knew their escape from the soldiers had just begun. Max had to lead them away from town unseen and unrecognized, out to Tony’s house where he and Bo planned to meet if anything were to go wrong.

Max shuffled to the left and looked out from behind the waterwheel at the far bank. The brook’s size had swollen since they’d entered it in the forest, but despite the additional flow of the smaller tributaries, the channel was no more than five yards wide. With no soldier in sight along the opposite bank, Max popped his head around the corner. He could see people in the streets, walking to work and going about their business as if this was an ordinary day. Not seeing any soldiers between the two buildings and none in the street immediately in front of them, Max let Britt know with a quick tap that they needed to make their next move.

Stepping out from the corner, he stayed close to the brick wall as he walked closer to the street. His saturated pants sloshed with each step; the sound seemed to echo in his ears, mostly, he was sure, because he so desperately wished to remain unnoticed. The few people passing in the street paid no attention to him, so he continued. Following a woman and two children as they passed by the alley between the two buildings, Max noticed a gentleman on the opposite side of the road watching him. He hesitated, wondering if he should turn back. Deciding that returning to the water wasn’t any less strange to the man, Max continued as if he hadn’t noticed that he was being observed, hoping the man wouldn’t call them out.

At the edge of the building, Max looked both ways before leading Britt around front. They drew attention as they walked in soaking wet clothes, swords hanging from their belts. They moved quickly onto the wooden decking. Max hoped that if they moved with confidence, the people who saw them wouldn’t question what they were doing.

Max quickly stepped into the millhouse, Britt hurrying in and closing the door behind them. Britt instantly began searching the mill. As she walked around the millstone, he leaned against the door so they’d know if anyone was trying to enter. Though it was harvest season, Max knew people didn’t bring in their grain every day. The community tried to use the mill efficiently by milling their grain in large quantities; Max hoped today wasn’t a milling day.