The Gallant has gone live! There’s just enough time for one more Saturday Snippet before the ship’s bulletin goes out to shipmates on Tuesday.

This chapter returns us to the story of Taylan Ellis, who is desperate to find her children. She’s in occupied West BI, hostile territory under the control of the cult-like Earth Awareness Crusade.

If you missed part one, you can find it here.

Chapter Two

Taylan peered through binoculars over the rounded summit of a low hill in West BI. The grass beneath her was long, cold, and wet. She’d been lying in the same spot for hours. It was nearing midday, and she hadn’t seen anything noteworthy. Though her waterproofs mostly protected her, rough blades poked in at her neck and ankles, chafing her exposed skin, and the chill from the ground had seeped into her bones.

From the numerous piles of crumbling sheep shit, she guessed the hill had once been used for grazing. But, judging by the length of the grass, no sheep had been here for a while. Had the Crusaders eaten them? Doing something so stupid and destructive would be right up their alley. They must have closed down the meat culturing factories or they were too dense to operate them. Sheep were for shearing, not eating.

Idiots.

In this case, the EAC’s stupidity was to her advantage. The tall grass provided excellent cover while she spied on the orphanage.

The gray stain on the verdant landscape sat about a kilometer away, gouged from the bottom of the valley. A narrow road snaked toward it, ending at the gates. Within the perimeter fence sat ten pre-fabricated blocks with flat, asphalt roofs. The windows of nine of the blocks were curtain-less, and through them rows of child-sized bunk beds, tables, desks, and chairs could be seen. The tenth block appeared to be for the staff. Vertical blinds concealed the interior.

A high, chain link fence topped with razor wire enclosed the site, regularly patrolled by armed guards. Not a blade of grass nor any other green thing grew within the space. Outdoor play areas for the children were entirely absent.

What a place for kids to grow up.

It was more like a prison camp than an orphanage. But then, it wasn’t really an orphanage because not all the kids were orphans. At least a few of the children’s parents were probably still alive. Like her, their children had been lost or torn from them in the aftermath of the invasion, when the rush of refugees trying to leave the island had turned into a rout. Now most of the Britannic Isles’ digital data had been destroyed by the EAC, parents had to rely on legwork and word-of-mouth to find their kids.

That was how she’d heard about the orphanage. Angharad, leader of the West BI Resistance, had put out feelers as soon as Taylan had told her of her predicament. Poor Angharad had died, but word had arrived of two kids who fit the description of her own at the orphanage.

Taylan rubbed her eyes with a finger and thumb. Nothing had stirred within the orphanage for ages. She placed the binoculars carefully on the ground, turned onto her back, and stared at the sky. Clouds were scudding past, dark and gravid with rain. A cool, humid wind was blowing, carrying the lingering odor of sheep as well as the faint scent of wildflowers.

It was good to be home.

It would be even better if her home wasn’t infested with cockroaches.

Light raindrops began to fall, dampening her face. She rubbed her eyes again. Sleeping rough for two weeks had left her tired from the moment she woke up. And she was hungry. The West BI Resistance had given her rations along with the binoculars and other equipment she felt quite guilty accepting, considering such items were in short supply, but her food had nearly run out.

She had to find Kayla and Patrin soon before she was forced to steal to survive. In the current situation she had no ethical qualms about stealing, but if she was caught she would end up dead, sooner or later. Preferably sooner. Dwyr Orr knew who had shot her in Jamaica, and now she was after her blood. The Dwyr would not dispense death quickly to Taylan Ellis.

The rain grew heavier.

She’d been watching the orphanage for three days without a glimpse of either of her children. In all her hours of scrutiny, she’d only seen the captive kids thirty or forty minutes in total. They rarely left their dorms, and when they did it was only in order to walk to another block. Dressed in a uniform of dark jacket and pants, the kids walked with their heads bowed.

What did they do all day?

Undergo indoctrination, Taylan answered herself. Even Crusaders weren’t sufficiently depraved to murder children. Instead, they lied to them and misled them, twisting their minds, turning them into true believers who forgot about their parents and their past lives.

Had Kayla and Patrin already forgotten about her?

She drew in a deep breath.

A tinny sound came to her ears, like the distant noise of a door opening. She spun onto her front. The binoculars contained a directional mic, and when she’d put them down, she’d pointed them at the orphanage.

One of the doors in the staff block was ajar, and a man and a woman were about to descend the wooden steps.

Taylan centered the mic on them.

“I hope my transfer comes through soon,” said the man. “I’m sick of this place. I hate teaching those whiny brats.”

The woman quietly shushed him. They didn’t speak again until they were several meters distant from the block.

“You should be more careful,” she said. “What if someone heard you? You know what they’re like.”

“Yeah, and that’s another reason I want a transfer. They’re watching us as much as we’re watching the kids.”

“They have to be sure we’re teaching them the right stuff in the right way. It’s confusing for children to go from one system of beliefs and thoughts to another. They’re being careful we don’t slip up.”

“Stop making excuses for them. You’re as bad as they are.”

“I just understand their point of view.”

“I’m glad someone does,” the man said sarcastically.

They had nearly reached another block. Taylan chewed her lip. The pair’s conversation was useless to her. Couldn’t they at least mention a couple of names? Did they even know the kids’ names? Maybe they gave them new ones.

As the couple reached a corner, the man grabbed the woman’s elbow and pulled her around it, out of general sight. He said something, but the mic didn’t pick it up. Taylan cursed and quickly adjusted it. Even so, after re-focusing on the couple, she only barely made out what was said next.

“I don’t see what there is to be afraid of,” the woman said.

“You know as well as I do we’re a prime target for insurgents. People will do a lot to get their kids back.”

“Then it’s fortunate for us all their parents are dead.”

“Don’t be naive. Plenty of them are still hiding out in the hills.”

“All right, maybe there are a few. But the patrols will get them all eventually. No one would dare to attack us.”

Patrols?

“I’m not so sure. The sooner I get out of this place the better.”

“Good for you. Now let’s go in, or they’ll be wondering where we’ve got to.”

Taylan had been careful since leaving the Resistance hideout, always traveling at night and keeping out of sight. She hadn’t seen anyone else in the lonely landscape, but her eavesdropping had confirmed the EAC did have people scouring the hills for natives they hadn’t managed to kill yet.

She’d been lucky so far. It was even more reason to locate her kids and get them to safety quickly.

Lifting the binoculars, she scanned the hills on the other side of the valley. The high, grassy mounds were empty of life except for birds and the odd rabbit. In her current position it was harder to see what was happening on her side, but she appeared to be alone.

The view trembled, and she realized she was shivering.

It was time to move around a bit and get her circulation going.

After another glance at the landscape, she rose to a crouch and then began to edge backward down the slope. When she was lower than her own height to the ridge, she rose to her feet but remained bent down low as she made her way toward the wood where she’d spent the last two nights.

The hill ran down to a stone wall, one of many turning the fields into a giant chessboard. The wood covered the low ground too wet for grazing and straggled up the hills on each side. She’d stashed her belongings within the roots of a willow.

She reached the outer trees. Halting, she looked behind her and to each side. Nothing moved in the landscape except crows riding the wind. She waded through the trackless bracken until she reached her campsite. Her sleeping bag and backpack hadn’t changed position since she’d left them.

Pulling a ration bar from her pack, she sat down to eat it.

Regrets over her recent past ran through her head. Joining the Marines had been a terrible mistake. How could she have given up looking for her kids so easily? But she’d been messed up, blaming herself for giving Kayla and Patrin over to someone else’s care. It was no wonder she’d made only one friend and many enemies among her fellow Marines. They hadn’t liked her beating them all the time in Basic, but her attitude had sucked too.

Never mind.

She couldn’t take back the past, and at least now she was finally back on track.

She popped the last of the bar into her mouth. It was time to head back up the slope and continue her vigil, but tiredness dogged her. It probably wouldn’t hurt to take a nap. The kids in the orphanage would all be eating lunch.

She lay down on the leaf mold and pulled her sleeping bag over her rather than climbing into it. That way, she wouldn’t get too comfortable and sleep too long.

An unknown amount of time later, a loud rustling woke her.

Her muscles rigid, she listened. It sounded like two or three people striding through the undergrowth. The sound of their passage was accompanied by whacks, as if they were hacking at vegetation with knives or sticks.

The noises were growing louder.

She opened her eyes. The dappled light had grown soft. She guessed she must have slept a couple of hours. About twenty meters away, three figures strode through the waist-height bracken, heading toward her. Very slowly, she slid out from under her sleeping bag.

“Something moved over there!” a voice yelled. “Can you see it?”

Shit!

Taylan bolted.

Find out what happens next in The Gallant.