“Frickin’ hell!” Panther snapped at her. “You shouldn’t of done that, going off by your own self! Who do you think you are, girl? You couldn’t wait for me?”
She gave him a glance. Then her eyes were back on Hawk. “It’s a militia of some sort, several hundred, maybe more. Planted right across the roadway and for some ways to either side. I couldn’t be sure. They almost had me. They’ve got some good ears and eyes in that bunch. I don’t know what they’re doing, but they’re set on holding this road. You can tell.”
Hawk nodded. “Then we have to go around.” He glanced at the others. “I don’t like trying this at night, but we have a better chance of not being seen if we do it now. What do you think?”
“I think we do it like you say,” Bear answered for the others, who just nodded. Except for Panther, who spit and walked away in disgust. With Panther, you never knew.
Hawk split them into two groups. He put Fixit at the wheel and Chalk beside him in the AV, with Owl, Candle, River, and Tessa in back. He put Sparrow on the AV’s roof with her Parkhan Spray. He took Panther, Bear, and Cheney with him, and put Catalya on point, her sharp senses their best defense against hidden dangers now that Candle no longer seemed reliable. He was sorry about that loss—sorry for Candle and for them. He had talked with Owl about it, tried to come up with a reason for it, but neither of them could solve the puzzle of the little girl’s problem. In any case, they could not rely on her. They would have to do the best they could with the new girl.
He glanced down at Cheney, and the big dog’s head lifted slightly, the dangerous eyes meeting his own. Cheney would help them if he could.
Catalya deposited Rabbit in Owl’s lap, and they set out. They moved off the highway and into a long rolling stretch of hills that were lightly wooded. Catalya took them northward on a course parallel to the fires, staying well back from where the militia would be keeping watch on the countryside. The AV rolled like a big, sluggish beast over the rough terrain, the engine a soft growl, but still audible from some distance away. Hawk wished they could muffle the sound further, but there was nothing he could do about it. A wind was blowing down out of the mountains, and sudden gusts cut into the low rumble and might fool anyone who didn’t know better. But Hawk didn’t think they could depend on that.
It took an hour before Catalya turned them east again, down a ravine and then up again along the windward side of a high berm. Suddenly they were moving through a blackness sheltered from the distant firelight, a landscape illuminated solely by moon and stars. The sky remained overcast, so there was little light by which to navigate, only enough so that the Ghosts were able to make their way. The north wind had died away, leaving the night still and empty-feeling about them.
They emerged from behind the berm into rolling grasslands. A heavy mist had moved in, settling in pools in the low places, in the ravines and depressions, like standing water concealing hidden depths. Hawk didn’t like it. It was becoming increasingly difficult to see anything or to judge accurately the nature of the terrain they were trying to cross. He caught up with Catalya and warned her in a hushed voice to be careful of sinkholes and rifts. She nodded without speaking, her eyes intense as she scanned the landscape ahead.
They continued, and the fog increased, growing heavier and thicker about them, rising slowly until they were wading through it. Catalya signaled for a halt and came back to huddle with Hawk.
“Can’t see anything now,” she admitted. “I don’t like it.”
Hawk glanced toward the watch fires south. They were almost clear of them now, some distance off, but still too close. “It can’t be any better for them,” he told her. “Maybe we should just wait this out, give it time to thin. Wait here. I’ll talk it over with the others.”
He was starting back, his mind made up, when he heard Cheney’s low growl. He looked left and then right, just in time to see a scattering of figures appear through the gloom, still far off, but coming closer.
He heard shouts and saw several of the figures pointing, and then the mist rose in a sudden swell and swallowed everything.
“Run!” he shouted to the others, waving for the AV to follow.
They charged ahead, angling away from the shadowy figures. Militia scouts, Hawk decided. Not that many, but they would be armed. Whether they had heard the Ghosts or just stumbled on them was difficult to say, but the result was the same.
Panther caught up to him, his Parkhan Spray held ready. “Can we take them?” he asked, breathing hard. “You and me?”
“No fighting!” Hawk hissed at him. “We don’t fight unless we have to!”