The Fields of Lemuria by Sam Sisavath Page B

seemed to be having trouble getting his feet to obey. Fiona took one of his arms and helped him the rest of the way. He gave her a grateful (and nervous) half-smile that she returned.
    Keo walked back and picked up Rupert’s radio, then clipped it to his hip. He stuffed the boy’s rifle into the gym bag before slinging it. The added weight was obvious, which was why he had decided to let Rupert lug the extra magazines around for him.
    “Let’s go,” Keo said. “You take the lead, Fiona. We’re burning daylight.”
    He glanced down at his watch: 1:16  p.m.
    Still plenty of time…
    *
    He should have shot them. Or, at least, the boy.
    But then he would have also had to shoot Fiona, because regardless of her intentions to escape Pollard’s tyrannical rule with him, she wasn’t going to stand by and let him kill Rupert. He could tell that much by the way she talked to the kid.
    So it was either kill them both or keep them around until he could let the boy go later. Maybe, just maybe, Fiona was right and she could convince him to keep quiet even when they reached their destination. That was a hell of a big if, though.
    They had been walking silently through the woods for about twenty minutes now, moving north toward the park visitors’ building the entire time. Fiona was up front, setting the pace, with Rupert walking silently behind her.
    Keo kept a safe distance from the boy—at least two meters—just in case. He didn’t think Rupert would try anything, but you could never be sure with kids. Youth made you do stupid things. Combine that with loyalty to Pollard, and it was likely he might end up having to kill the kid anyway. Keo didn’t want to do that. He wasn’t going to not do it, but he’d like to avoid it if possible. Joe’s song-and-dance, and the resulting chaos, was still fresh in his mind, but he wasn’t far gone enough to think that Rupert was Joe.
    Suddenly Fiona stopped in front of him and dropped to one knee, her thin frame almost disappearing completely into the overgrown blades of grass around her.
    Keo did likewise, but Rupert remained standing. He knew the kid wasn’t doing it on purpose. He was caught off guard, his brain freezing up with indecision. So Keo leaped forward, grabbed him by the back of his vest, and dragged him down to the ground before pushing him onto his stomach. The boy wisely stayed down, his breath quickening noticeably under Keo’s grip.
    Fiona glanced back and locked eyes with him.
    This is where she betrays me. Like Joe…
    Instead, she nodded, and he returned it. She looked forward again and positioned her rifle to fire. He did the same with the MP5SD.
    Or not.
    The crunch-crunch of heavy boots on brittle leaves preceded the appearance of a two-man patrol. Black assault vests and assault rifles moved past trees, the two men talking quietly to one another. They were forty meters away but seemed to have no clue Keo, Fiona, and Rupert were there. Both men were in their twenties, and one of them was chewing loudly on a stick of beef jerky.
    Keo looked down at Rupert, who had lifted his head. The kid saw the patrol, and for a moment Keo thought he might let out a scream to alert them and mentally prepared himself to blow a hole in the back of Rupert’s head.
    But Rupert didn’t make a sound. He actually seemed to be regaining control of his breathing, too, before lowering his head back to the slightly cool earth.
    Smart kid. You might actually live through this after all.
    They watched in silence as the patrol walked across them, oblivious to their presence. They were moving so leisurely, in absolutely no hurry, that it seemed to take them minutes instead of the ten—possibly twenty—seconds it actually did.
    When the patrol was finally out of sight, Fiona stood back up.
    Keo followed, pulling Rupert off the ground by the back of his vest along with him.
    “That was a close one,” Fiona said, when the loud crack! of a rifle exploded across the woods, scattering birds