Without Boundaries

By

Terry Banker

Chapter 1

Year 19

Lake Anna was always calm right after sunset. It was a cool, crisp evening and the smells of burning leaves drifted through the autumn air. Her cold, dark currents barely moved, and islands speckled the water like small fish feeding on the surface. There was no moon tonight, only a manmade light on the nose of a small helicopter flying low with a broken wing.

It limps along then hesitates near one of the islands. With an awkward wobble it tips its contents, and two bodies plunge into the black stillness. Seeing its cargo underway, it gathers its strength and staggers shoreward to hide behind some nearby hills. As it drops below the timberline, another helicopter emerges. This is not the same type of bird; this is a bird of prey, an eagle, a vulture. It is large and powerful and sounds like a freight train as it frantically twists in search of its hunt. With a reflection it sees her, there behind the hills! It changes course and bolts toward the weak and wounded craft.

Back in the water, a body frantically searches for the other, at first waiting and breathing, then diving and diving again. With a final determined breath, the figure dives back in until he emerges with a body. He floats her onto her back and forces air into her lungs. Slight movement brings relief, and the two surface onto the muddy shore.

An explosion lights up the dark, night sky and its distant glow outlines the two embraced in regret. But wait! The light in the sky returns! Is it the hunter or the hunted? It is the small, hunted craft returning from the games wounded yet alive! As it draws closer, they can see the light is no longer manmade but a fire on board! The dying craft wobbles past as it crashes just beyond their new refuge; the figure of the boy runs to assist. Reaching into the flames, he pulls out a man and carries him away from danger and then back to the fire for a pack under the seat. Success! With the man and the supplies out of danger, the wounded copter releases its last breath and the pyre swells.

"Are you alright?" The boy asked out of breath.

"Yes," answered the pilot. "Did you get the supplies?"

"Yes."

"Where is she?"

"I'm here," a girl running toward them spoke up.

"Are both of you okay?"

"Yes," answered the girl. "We're fine. We thought they'd killed you."

"You don't have any confidence in me." The pilot looked at the girl. She was eighteen, perhaps. Tall for her age and looked like she was still growing. Athletic. "What's in the supply pack?" He clutched his left shoulder.

The boy answered. He too was around eighteen and strong for his age. He ferreted through the supplies. "We've some flares, some round, silver things, a map, radio, small raft, small tent, a blanket, looks like some matches here, and no first aid kit. No wait. Here it is. What do you need?"

"Whiskey."

"Looks like we're fresh out. They must have drank it in the last crash." The boy answered. "How about a wrap for your shoulder?"

"Here let me." The girl took the bandage. "Is the bullet still in there?"

"I can't tell, it's numb. You look."

As they both moved closer to examine his shoulder, the pilot casually reached his hand in the pack and removed the four round, silver devices and placed them in his pocket.

"This is going to hurt." She looked at his face and then to the boy's.

And with the warning, she stuck her fingers into the wound and felt around. The hole was large enough for her to probe with her index finger. At last, she could feel a fragment. "Got it!"

She looked down at the pilot and he was unconscious. "At least now it will be easier for him to get to sleep."

The girl treated the wound while the boy set up the makeshift camp. Despite the smoldering helicopter, it would be too difficult to move now. They'd have to risk it, and he built a campfire to help dry their clothes. They would look like any of the other campers with burning wreckage nearby.

"In the morning," the boy started. "We'll have to get out of here fast. I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Yes," the girl agreed. "We have to get to Hermes--"

"And Perin."

"--Before they kill them." She pulled the blanket around her naked shoulders. "What about him?"

"There should be a hospital around here once we get to shore. The map says Anna Point and High Point are nearby. He'll be okay, but we've got to keep moving." He looked at his tired companion. It would be difficult for her to travel if she were not at full strength. "Try to get some sleep."

The girl threw another log on the fire and adjusted her blanket. Wrapped in the raft from the pack, the pilot stirred. He opened an eye and saw the kids still awake. He'd have to wait until they were asleep. He looked down at his pocket. No! He couldn't take any chances.

As the evening drifted into morning, the pilot awakened to find his arm and shoulder stiff and the kids asleep. He reached in his pocket. Yes! The devices were still there! He pulled one out and twisted it until it clicked. The device started to emit a white flash. He covered it in his hands and carefully rose to his feet. His shoulder was hurting but he had to set up the device away from camp. Quietly, he moved to the other side of the island and placed the device in some brush. If this was a standard issue TANC tracking device, it should be picked up on a tracking frequency. All he had to do was watch the kids and wait. He went back to the campfire.

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