Page 74 of Casualties of War
Chapter Sixteen
Adán didn’t slow them down as much as she thought he might. He didn’t seem to have more trouble with the slopes than did her men. Perhaps because he had been raised here.
They reached the huge old fig tree with the massive root system an hour later. She held them back one hundred yards, while Ramirez scouted. He gave the all-clear. They moved forward.
The men pulled off andstowed the nets and picked up their gear. It was all big backpacks, which gave them mobility and independence from a supply depot. Parris shouldered her own backpack, which wasn’t any smaller than the others, adjusted to the weight, then signaled everyone move forward once more.
Jonesy, the unit’s marksman, eased out to the flank. Donaldson took the other, while Ramirez stayed on point, scoutingfor a suitable place to stop for the night. Among these trees, with their lack of undergrowth, good places to camp were rare.
After an hour of slow progress, Adán moved up alongside Parris from the rear where Amos had been keeping him. “I know this area,” Adán said. “I used to trek through it every summer when I was a kid. There’s an entrance to the caves about a mile north of here.”
“What caves?”she said sharply. “There’s nothing on the map.”
“Thecaves,” Adán replied. “All of them. The north end of Vistaria is riddled with them.”
She glanced at Yardley, their navigator. He shook his head. “There are caves. They don’t reach down this far.”
“They’re there. Trust me,” Adán said. He didn’t raise his voice or tell Yardley he was wrong or full of shit.
That was new, that lack of confrontation.The Adán she remembered had always needed to be right, to be smart, to not be a waste of space.
She didn’t have enough ego to think she might have made that change in him. She had never been in his life long enough for her departure to make that much difference.
And why was she thinking of this? Now?
Parris shook her head. “We’re already heading north-west. Direct north won’t take us too farout of the way. Let’s check it out. A cave for the night would be a Hilton.”
Ramirez, who had come back to hear the discussion, looked at Adán. “Which way?”
“Head north,” Adán said. “As soon as I know where we are, I can direct you.”
Ramirez waved his finger and everyone turned to face the direction he pointed in. He moved ahead, carrying the rifle across both arms, his finger resting overthe trigger guard.
“Move up behind Ramirez,” Parris told Adán.
“Yes, sir.”
Someone smothered a laugh.
Adán moved through the strung out unit, picking up the pace until he was trailing Ramirez, as she had ordered.
Twenty minutes later, when they stepped over one of the many little streams that trailed down the sides of the mountains, Adán jogged up to Ramirez and tapped his shoulder. He pointedto the right of north and murmured something.
Ramirez nodded and waved him back.
Five minutes later, the ground changed. Spines of rock split the leaf-littered loam.
Yardley stamped on one, studying it. “Limestone. I’ll be damned. He was right.”
The entrance to the cave was a tiny one. Anyone who didn’t know it was there would miss it, for it was buried in the crotch of a gully. Ramirez thrusthis fist into the air and everyone halted.
He moved ahead, his rifle now tucked up against his hip and pointing forward. He moved up the length of the gully and eased into the mouth of the cave, ducking to miss the top of it. Seeing Ramirez against the black maw gave Parris a sense of scale. The cave opening was wider and taller than she had thought.
Ramirez emerged, his rifle hanging from hisfingers. He gave the all-clear.
Parris turned to Locke, who was her 2IC. “Sentries, two hours each. We don’t want to be surprised.”
“He was right about the cave,” Locke pointed out. “If the north end is riddled, as he said, there’s likely a back door we can use if we need it.”
