After Itty Bitty Package.
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The road wasn’t really a road anymore, not in this section of the country. It was three-quarters pot-hole and one-quarter bomb crater, with the occasional multi-terrain vehicle left abandoned half in one sort of hole or another. There were corpses, too – livestock and buildings left burnt out and falling down where they stood, people who had fought until they couldn’t fight anymore.
The front had moved forward; technically, Pretza had already gotten them through the worst of it. They had moved past the soldiers, past the tanks, past the first line of rear guards. They had crossed three minefields and one inferno. And they were almost to the border.
The road wasn’t actually safe, but moving near the road had served Pretza well. Too far off the beaten track, and they were likely to find bandits, deserters, and land mines. On the road, they were a target. She moved through the remains of the trees, instead, murmuring as quietly as she could to the tiny bundle pressed up against her chest. “It’s all right, just stay quiet a little longer. Just a little longer, kidlet.”
She avoided three soldiers and one deserter, and then ran smack dab into the fifth man. He grabbed her by both arms, shaking her and her tiny package.
Pretza took a deep breath and assessed the situation. At this range, arterial blood would splatter all over her and her package, which would not only attract flies but make them very obvious. His face was pockmarked and scarred, his nose broken so many times it was impossible to guess if he was Thalassan, Corbetian, or Orion. His hair was grey and nearly gone, and he wore no helm, no uniform, and no insignia.
“You’re not her,” he muttered. “You’re not her. Never really thought she’d still be here, but I had to look.” His eyes raked over Pretza. “But at the moment, you’ll do. Come on, girlie. The front is no place for a pregnant girl.”
Tip Package 😉
Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/865297.html “The Border”
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