Page 92 of Casualties of War
He shrugged. “Everyone can see there’s a history there.”
The inherent problem with living with a unit like this was that nothing was private. She sighed. “I need to stuff the history back in the box, before I trip over it,” Parris said. “I need to be sharp for tonight.”
Locke understood. They were both practiced at self-assessment. It was thecorrect thing to do to take herself off active and get back to peak performance. Locke had taken a dive for three months while his wife went through a major operation and recovery. It all evened out, eventually.
“Then I’ve got the baton,” Locke replied. “I’ll have Ramirez find us a place for the day.”
“Just not another cave,” she said fervently.
He grinned and moved away, putting the communicationsbud back in his ear.
They didn’t camp in a cave although they might as well have. Adán didn’t know of any suitable places nearby. “This is farther north than I remember,” he said. “There’s probably a cave somewhere. You could spend all day looking for the opening.”
Ramirez found for them, instead, a deep cleft in the hills butting up against the end of the bay. They camped on the dry, sandysoil between the salt-bush lined sides of the gully, with blue sky overhead and nothing but a thin strip of sand and the waves in front of them.
As Locke assigned sentries and the others marveled over the softness of the sand beneath their feet and spread their bags, Parris handed Adán her sleeping bag and dug the laptop out of her pack.
Locke came back to her and took the laptop and her notesto give to Strickland when he reported in.
“You’re heading somewhere, Captain?” Donaldson enquired, his voice loud.
“The Captain is clocking off for some downtime, undisturbed by you cretins,” Locke said.
As everyone belly-ached good naturedly, Parris picked up her pack and headed back to the far end of the gully. As the gully bent inward, it would be as private there as anywhere on the islandwould be right now. She kept her gaze ahead as she slogged through the soft, dry sand. Just as the gully turned, she couldn’t help back glance back.
Adán was still holding the bag, watching her.
* * * * *
She waited until everyone was asleep. By then, the sun was high overhead and insects ticked and buzzed in the salt bushes. No breeze reached them in the narrow gulley, especially not at thisclosed-off end.
She spread her mat on the south side of the gully in the shade and laid listening to the soft sound of surf. Even without the sentries, she would be warned of anyone coming long before they reached the edges of the gully and spotted her and her unit scattered along the narrow crevasse.
After three hours, the sounds of the unit cooking and eating and teasing each other about onestupid thing or another dropped away to nothing.
Parris rose to her feet. She had removed her boots when she first laid down. Now warm sand squeezed through her toes. It was good. She walked slowly back along the gully, watching the sleeping men closely. None of them were in their bags. It was too warm. They rested on them or under them.
No one moved.
Parris glanced up at the top of the gullywhere the sentries would be. They should have their back to the gully, watching for strangers approaching. She couldn’t see anyone from here.
She bent and shook Adán’s shoulder.
As soon as his eyes, with the ridiculously long lashes, opened to reveal the black irises, she put her hand over his mouth.
He nodded.
She tugged on his shirt, then beckoned with her finger.Follow me.
Adán rose carefullyto his feet. He was barefoot, too.
They eased away from the sleeping ring of men and she trekked back along the gully, trusting that Adán would follow.
When she reached her pack and gear, she turned to face him.
Adán stopped three paces away, his eyes narrowed.
Parris picked up his hand. It was heavy in hers.
