Fireteam Delta by J. Halpin (ebook reader that looks like a book txt) 📕

“He swore an oath to not speak of it. That’s good. It’s . . .” Asle struggled to think of the word. “It’s an honor thing.”

“Good.” Summers nodded. “We done here, Sarge?”

Nowak seemed to consider the family, then Asle.

“Yeah. Asle, thank them for me. They can go.”

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“I mean, this is good news, right? We might have found a quick way home.” Cortez leaned against a tree.

They’d decided that with the news they weren’t alone in this part of the world, they needed to figure out their new direction.

Bang!

“Could be, or we could be walking into something way over our pay grade,” Summers responded. “I mean, these guys wiped out an entire village of mud farmers. That doesn’t sound like something the army would be interested in—especially if their power base is in Nevada.”

Bang!

Summers turned to see Asle. She knelt down on one knee and fired at another bottle as he watched. It shattered instantly. As far as target practice was concerned, she was going three for three.

“Asle, take five, would ya?”

Asle nodded before handing Summers the gun. She’d gotten a lot better with it, a lot faster than Summers would have expected. Even Nowak looked impressed by her progress. Of course, given what he’d seen of elf culture, everyone knew how to fight in one form or another. She’d probably gleaned at least a few tricks from watching them all these weeks.

“They spoke English,” Nowak pointed out.

“Some of them spoke English,” Summers corrected. “For all we know, the guys with guns were deserters. Or helping whatever this ‘gray army’ is.”

“You learn anything else about them from your girl?” Cortez asked.

“Foreign nation, had a lot of fights with . . . uh, Asle, what are these folk called?”

“Nordli Stam,” Asle responded promptly. “Um, Northern tribes.”

“Right. So, they fight a lot with these Northmen. But mostly, their places are on the coast. Far as I can tell, all the way down to Northern California.”

“Then we’re going to be running into them eventually,” Logan ventured.

“That’s right.”

Nowak considered all of that before he spoke. “My suggestion is we head to the city, get some intel on who these people are, and then decide where we go from there. I’d like to contact whoever it is that’s out there, but I want to make sure we’re playing this safe.”

“And we’re sure we trust that family not to talk?” Cortez asked.

“No, but given our reputation in the caravan right now, I don’t think it matters. Worst case, we give them some food and leave them behind.”

Summers glanced at Asle, who was listening intently. He remembered how happy she’d seemed when she’d met those kids.

“I’ll set up the targets. Thirty meters this time, all right?”

Asle nodded in confirmation.

Summers would have to see how things played out.

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Asle struggled not to smile. It had been about two weeks when Nowak gave her the news. Now, she had her own power. She could help. Cortez had helped fit Asle with something called a holster that wrapped around her leg. The butt of a pistol sat there, waiting for the day that she would call on it.

Today was not that day.

“I brought your food.”

Asle held a tray out to the two children sitting with their parents. Erne looked at her askance; she was trying to be polite, Asle knew. They only tolerated her now. Nothing more, nothing less. It had been that way since that first morning.

She noticed as the boy, Beorn, glanced down at her holster. She didn’t mind. It was normal for him to be curious. He held out a hand to take the tray.

“Thank you.”

Asle hid her reaction as best she could. Beorn had been kinder to her than the rest of the group, even after their rocky start. She liked him, even if the feeling wasn’t mutual.

“And how are you doing?”

Asle turned to find Synel behind her, looking down at the refugees. The woman had an air about her that radiated confidence.

“We’re well, mistress. Please do not concern yourself with us,” the father, Eirik, answered.

Synel inclined her head to the family. “I’m glad, but you should know that everyone in my caravan is my concern—that includes you and your family. But I’m here to ask for a favor.”

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The favor was busy work, Asle knew that. But still . . .

“I found another one, I think,” Erne called over. She held a small mushroom that looked to be the right size and shape.

“Looks right to me.” Asle nodded in satisfaction.

The group as a whole had been tasked with finding various herbs and mushrooms for the caravan’s dinner, while their parents helped with the cooking.

Synel didn’t need help. She was trying to get on Asle’s good side by giving the siblings a reason to talk to her.

“What about this?” Beorn tossed a bug the size of her arm into the basket. Erne shrieked. Asle yelped, then chucked the basket—mushrooms and all—into the distance. It landed on the ground with a heavy plop.

Beorn showed no reaction to their response, but she could tell that he was laughing. She did her best to hide the smile that was now close to breaking through.

Despite her best efforts, Synel’s plan was working.

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Summers fumbled with another of the flashcards Synel used, lately it was becoming harder and harder to use his fine motor control. Whether that was because he wasn’t exercising it, or his condition was getting worse, was anyone’s guess.

“I think we should end for today,” Summers said in nearly perfect Nos. Asle still corrected him any time he tried to call it Elvish. “If that’s all right with you.”

By the way Synel’s eyes lit up, he figured he’d gotten the pronunciation right.