G.U.A.R.D. Book #4: Tracked

-11-

A hand slipped over my mouth, and I jerked awake, flailing.

"Shh!"

I glanced around to see Cleve there, holding me still but gazing outside. She slowly put her hand down.

"League agent," she whispered.

I looked outside. The sun had risen, and its welcoming warmth flooded into the forest. The League agent was alone. He wore the classic uniform with a heavy coat over and plenty of weapons to go around. The guy looked around before stopping next to a tree and unzipping the front of his pants.

Cleve slowly, stealthily crept out of our overhang. I didn't want to risk whispering, so I just waved an arm wildly. She ignored me, instead grabbing a rather thick stick and creeping up behind the League guy. After she bashed it against his head, he fell to the ground unconscious, right atop the yellow snow he just created.

I ran over to join her, joints stiff and cold.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"Shush!" she told me quietly. "More could be around."

Then the girl proceeded to bend down and turn the guy around.

"Whoa, no!" I said, blocking her way. "You do realize not all of him is covered, don't you?"

"You really think he cares right now?" she whisper-shouted. "He has a coat, weapons, and shoes. We need them."

"Then... go stand guard! I'll get them."

She gave me an infuriated glare, then stomped away. I sighed, looking down at the League guy. Sorry about this. I turned him over with a grunt, then gingerly made sure all of his body was inside his clothes. I unclipped all of his belts, which held two pistols and a knife. Of course, there was also the rifle slung over his shoulders, which I placed next to the belts. Then I stripped him from his jacket, socks, and hiking boots. The boots had two more knives stored in them.

"Hey," I called lowly to Cleve. She turned and jogged back over. "Here." I handed her the jacket.

"You don't have one either," she argued.

"I'm bigger. I have more body fat. You need it more than I do."

Always logical, Cleve found no way to argue with that, so she slipped her arms into the sleeves. They were baggy and looked too big on her, but I couldn't help staring enviously. I yanked the socks and shoes on, ignoring the stings of my injured feet. By that point, Cleve had already grabbed two of the knives, tore strips of fabric from the long sleeves, and tied them to her upper calves. She had also tucked a pistol in the back of her pants. I took the last knife, putting it in the hiking boots. Luckily, this guy and I seemed to be the same size, so his leg holster fitted around my thigh. I deposited the last pistol in it.

The man groaned, moving his head. Cleve took no hesitation in hitting him again. I winced.

"I'll take the rifle," she said, picking it up and adjusting the strap. "Does he have any food on him?"

I grabbed the canteen around his shoulder. "Only water. But that's still good. A few sips now, save the rest for later?"

She nodded. I drank first, feeling the warm liquid soak in my dry throat. Then I handed it to her, and she did the same. As she wiped her mouth, she said, "Does he have a radio?"

"Well, yeah. But it could have a tracker in it. We can't risk taking it with us."

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Fine. Let's just get out of here before more show up."