Eliot Strange and the Prince of the People

1) Back at Base Camp

Author's Note: And now that we are caught up, Eliot tells the rest of the story.

Here I am now, sleeping beside the one true love in my love square, a prince who may be my country's last hope. His safety and return to his home country mean that help is on the way. Except, since his finger got cut off, his hand broken, and there was a narrow escape from a crazy man, I'm not so sure how safe the prince is for now. At least, I can look out the door and see Clay, his perpetual bodyguard, patrolling. God help the person who tries to get past him. Clay will die on this hill to save the prince.

Though it feels like weeks, it has only been a couple of days since our escape from Stuart and a battle between One Nation and our army, made up of American soldiers and Resistance fighters. We still don't know the results of the battle, but the fact that our soldiers are still unaccounted for means that the news will not be what we want to hear.

We are frozen in place waiting on word. Something, even a snippet of disinformation, would be welcome. My father went to fight, and he is among the missing.

I know my dad well enough to know that he would have been here yesterday if he were all right.

I am awake sitting in the bed beside a sleeping prince. I look at his beautiful face. He needs a shave, but he is still a magnificent specimen of a man. My man. I chew on a thumbnail like it is my breakfast. Old habits are hard to break. I look over at Torin who is now awake.

"Any word?" he asks.

I shake my head. He tries to rise, forgetting about his broken hand that refuses to help a man up. He winces in pain, and I rest my hand on his chest and reassure him.

"You rest some more. I'm going to go check. Get us something for breakfast. Get the doctor."

I know Torin is still not out of the woods because he agrees too quickly. He closes his eyes and is soon asleep again.

I examine his hand with my eyes. Our new doctor, who is actually a vet tech we call Doc, was left behind by the army to tend to their sick and wounded soldiers. Fortunately for us, the army also left behind a few vehicles including a med truck and a supply truck. They left so many supplies here that they must be planning on coming right back. Where are they? What is the delay?

The doctor left behind did a decent job on Torin's mangled finger. The finger still looks like a pair of pliers wrenched the end off, but the stitches are even and what's left of the finger looks pink again. Torin's hand, broken during the torture and later smashed by my mother, rests uneasily in a hand-made cast. His hand, and almost all the way up to the elbow, is the most beautiful combination of blue and purple shades with yellow thrown in for contrast. Torin's hand is so broken and painful that I think he has all but forgotten that most of a pinkie is gone.

I tiptoe outside. The first person I see is my best friend, Steven, walking with a cane. Steven has a boot on his wrapped/broken leg. He is talking to Hellman who still has her hand bandaged from the stadium battle. We are dropping like flies. What is left of the Resistance here at our base camp couldn't beat a T ball team in a scrimmage. Our numbers are down and what's left is limping. We do not need to stay and fight or mount an offensive. We need to run and hide. Steven agrees.

"Going out again?" I ask. Steven and Cindy Lou went searching early this morning in the ice cream truck to see what they could find. Either because they had to be extra cautious or Cindy insisted on bringing her toddler, Baby Christopher, they have not had any luck.

Steven nods his head. "Want to come?

I hesitate. I want to come. I want to find out what happened to my dad and Patrick and the rest of our army, but I am afraid to leave Torin. Something happens to him every time we are apart. And, in the state he is in, he can't defend himself or run and hide, not without help.

Steven knows my answer, but he also knows me. I need prodding to do the right thing. Steven always reminds me, he is like my moral compass. "Rules?" he asks.

"Help others."

"And, leave no man behind," he adds. "There could be wounded Resistance or American soldiers who need our help. Maybe we can find Patrick?" And then, after I shoot him an annoyed look, "And your ring?" He smiles.

It is kind of funny so I smile back. I know he's right. I just have to convince myself. "Save the prince?" I ask half-heartedly.

We both look at each other. I know what Steven is telling me without him saying it out loud. Torin is safer here than back in Mount Airy or towards Stuart where we need to go. Torin's bodyguards and Clay are watching over him. They will high tail it out of here at the first sign of danger. Doc will also make sure Torin is safe and comfortable. For now, there is nothing I can do to help Torin.

"Let me grab us some breakfast. Maybe see if Cindy wants to stay here and help guard the prince too," I say.

I step off the porch, but before I can head to the kitchen, we hear it. We both look up. Something loud is coming our way. It is coming from the sky. We reach for our guns.