Watershed (14 page)

‘Why'd we take this route, anyway?' she asked. ‘We were supposed to follow the east road. It would've been easier.'

I shrugged and stared out across the Hills. ‘Had my reasons.'

She fidgeted a little before asking, ‘How long have you been in the Watch?'

I hesitated before answering. If I was to continue with this charade I needed to gain her trust, but wariness was innate. We didn't talk about our work, or ourselves. It was how we stayed safe.

‘Dunno. Seven, eight years,' I confessed.

‘Why? You could've left by now.' She stilled suddenly, as though realising her mistake, but I didn't let on. Being a Guard, she might've known that eight years was plenty of time for a Watchman to earn his freedom; more likely, she'd counted my marks after all. At this stage, anything I learned about her was useful.

‘Because I'm good at it,' I said. ‘And because I've got nothing better to do.'

By the way she sighed and shuffled her feet, I could tell she was itching to tell me any number of things that were preferable to being a Watchman, but she held her tongue. Good girl. She was learning.

‘Why'd you join the Guard?' I asked her; it was the obvious thing to say.

She didn't reply for a while, and the silence was almost companionable. ‘It's my chance to make a difference.'

I stared at her. My laugh sounded hollow, but Alex scowled.

‘What's so funny?' she demanded.

‘Nothing,' I said, sobering as I shouldered my pack. ‘It's just you reminded me of someone I used to know.'

The next afternoon brought another surprise, not as pleasant as the last. We pushed off a few hours before dusk, repeating the previous day's pattern, me in front, her behind. Having a staff definitely improved her pace, and I was growing more confident of keeping to the new schedule, maybe even advancing on it. She didn't whinge when I picked the steepest paths rather than criss-cross the slopes, and she didn't argue when I suggested that we aim to reach the last ridge before resting. Despite myself, I was beginning to admire her tenacity; plenty of men would've put up a fuss. But confidence can always be undermined, even the loosest schedule thrown out. Only this time it wasn't her doing.

Pulling myself up and over a crown of rocks, I waited for her to follow, listening to her scrabbling for footholds, getting a grip before slipping again. Impatient, I leaned down and gripped her wrist to haul her up, not an easy job with that pack of hers. Then, not bothering to wait for any kind of thanks, I set off again. We walked the few miles of the crown before it began to slope downhill again and I took more care to feel for firmer ground. She slid a couple of times and so did I, the earth quick to give way beneath our weight. And then I stopped dead and sank low; too busy watching her feet, she piled into me, crying out and almost tumbling us both down the hill.

‘Fuck!' I grabbed her and pulled her down. ‘Shut up and stay still.'

In the gloom of the valley below, to our left and coming from the west, a line of men snaked between the trees, walking where they shouldn't. It was already too dark for details so I could only estimate their number – fifty or so – but I recognised the dark cloaks and the noise that carried up the slope. Guards.

‘What are they doing here?' Alex whispered, but I didn't reply.

It wasn't unusual for Guards to patrol the hills, though it was rare to see them this far north, and away from the roads. And never in such numbers. Guards were habitual, keeping to their little gangs, bullying and harassing or, when that wasn't enough to scare, reporting back to their officers. Their task was to keep an eye on everyone, and out here there was no one.

‘What should we do?' asked Alex.

‘Wait,' I said, settling back on my haunches and watching. Had it been the usual group of six, I wouldn't have worried; as a Watchman I had superiority, and crossing paths with Guards wasn't normally a concern. But having one of their own with me might prompt a few questions I couldn't answer, and their easterly direction could be a problem too; the last thing I needed was company.

‘We should've taken the east road, like we were supposed to,' Alex muttered.

‘Shut up.'

She did, fidgeting in sullen silence. The Guards passed below us, and I watched carefully until they reached a fork in the valley, slithered south behind the rise, and disappeared, taking their noise with them.

‘Now what?' Alex asked.

‘We'll stay here until dark,' I replied. ‘I suggest you eat now. We won't stop again.'

It wasn't until much later, as I readied myself for sleep, that I thought to wonder why the sight of those Guards had appeared to bother her as much as it had me.

There were no more unexpected encounters, the following day passing uneventfully, and the one after that too. Walking at night on the higher rocky ridges and in the deeper shadow of the mountains posed a risk to anyone, but especially to a body not used to
the terrain; though the wind was still a hazard, the air was cooler, so I made better use of the daylight hours. We'd set out a few hours before dawn, and break just after dusk. Alex kept up a reasonable pace but there was no point driving her too hard. I'd watch her layer up at night, and I too would add another shirt and a woollen cap. She didn't sleep well, not used to the bitter cold, but neither did I because all her noise kept waking me, leaving me irritable and tired. After two nights of it, I was ready to strangle her.

Meanwhile, I spent my time trying to catch her out, more for amusement than anything else. It was in the little things. Like the way she ate, slow with small bites and neat swallows instead of tearing at her food and chomping open-mouthed. The way she'd sip carefully when she drank, patting her lips dry instead of wiping them roughly on her sleeve. Her voice, too changeable, rising with irritation at something I said, falling again later when she asked me a question. And, of course, her nightly use of the pot. She must've had a bladder the size of a camel's hump and I don't know how she held on to it for so long, because I never gave her any other opportunity to relieve herself.

But I was no closer to finding out what she knew or what she was supposed to do once we reached the settlement. And the nearer we got, the more it bothered me. There were only a couple more nights until we arrived and I'd be going in blind unless she coughed up what I needed. The only thing I knew for sure was that she hadn't lied about her name. Most girls – boys too – were named for dead things: Leaf, Flower, Berry, Horse, Bull, Ox; the list was endless, as though keeping the names might make everything come to life again. Alex wasn't that kind of name. As far as I knew, it wasn't even a girl's name. But she answered too readily, without any hesitation, for it to be anything else.

On the fourth evening, we stopped earlier than usual. Near the top of the ridge it was achingly cold, and though it would've been better to keep moving even I was exhausted from lack of
sleep. So when we came across a small hollow, shielded on one side by a fallen trunk, I called it quits. The low moon, waxed to an odd-shaped ball, was already casting long shadows.

‘Can we light a fire?' she pleaded, before she'd even shed her pack.

‘No,' I said. It was the third night she'd asked. Though the Guards had long gone and we'd seen no others, it wouldn't pay to be careless. But my reply was automatic because at some stage we would need a fire. Just not when she demanded it. And not at night when it might be seen.

She scowled and crouched shivering on the ground. I settled myself in the hollow and ate slowly, watching her blow on her hands, trying to warm them. If I'd cared even a little, I might've felt sorry for her. But seeing to her comfort wasn't my problem.

‘How are you going to track down the Dissidents?' she asked, breaking the silence.

‘Won't know until I get there. Takes time.' If I did have a plan, she'd be the last to know, but I was interested in her questions. Coz sometimes, if you listen carefully enough, a question can reveal as much as an answer.

‘You must have some idea. What do you usually do?'

‘Why the interest?' I asked, prodding her. ‘It won't affect you, or your precious Guards.'

She tried hard not to look annoyed, and failed. ‘Just trying to make conversation. Take my mind off the cold.'

I gave a shrug. ‘I'll find work, take shelter where I can get it, start nosing around. You'd be surprised how easy it is to catch 'em out.'

‘They can't be that stupid. Otherwise the Guard would've seen to them already,' she said.

I laughed. ‘Yeah, right. Coz that's why we have to rescue those two idiots.' Giving her a long stare, I added, ‘Everyone gets careless at some point, Alex.'

She pursed her lips and frowned a little. ‘Yes, I guess they do.'

‘How long've you been in the Guard?' I asked her.

‘A year,' she said.

‘Then you should already know enough about us, the way we work. Why all the questions?'

She looked nervous. ‘I don't know. It's just I've never met a Watchman before. I'm interested, that's all.'

Not as interested as I am in you.
But I waited, drawing it out and teasing her to impatience, before saying, ‘Tell you what, I'll give you three for three. You ask me three questions and then you answer three of mine. But choose carefully, Alex, coz you only get three.'

She didn't hesitate; her first question was too quick, and too obvious. ‘Do you enjoy it?'

‘No,' I replied. ‘It's just a job, like yours.'

‘I don't kill people for no reason,' she retorted, forgetting herself.

‘I never kill for no reason. I kill because I'm told to, just like you'll be told to. When that time comes, I suggest you drop whatever ideals you have and get on with it. Next question.'

She scowled, but didn't argue. ‘What will you do when you finally leave the Watch? Because you can't keep doing it forever, can you?'

I smiled. ‘That's two questions, but I'll let it pass. I won't do anything. I don't expect to survive my job. Not many of us do, you know.'

‘Then why –?' But she didn't finish, not wanting to waste the opportunity. After all, I'd already answered that question once before.

‘Last one, Alex. Make it count,' I teased again, and her eyes narrowed.

‘Why do you hate the Guard so much?'

That one really surprised me, and I sat quietly for a while before answering. I could have told her anything and she'd have to take
my word for it, but it wasn't worth lying about. No one had ever asked me why before. I'd almost forgotten it myself.

‘When I was a kid, I saw a Guard beat a man to death. The man was nothing, just a market vendor, but the Guard stomped the living shit out of him, killed him right there, in plain view. And no one said anything. No one did a single fucking thing to stop him.' I gave a short sigh, remembering. ‘That Guard was a man who killed for no reason, Alex.'

‘I'm sorry,' she said finally.

‘You're really not very good at this, are you?' I said, and at her startled expression, added, ‘At being something you're not.'

Her eyes narrowed suddenly. ‘Is that your first question?'

‘Nope. Just an observation.'

I let her chew on that, watched her gaze shift and her shoulders straighten, like she was readying herself. There were plenty of things I wanted to ask her, but couldn't. Not yet. So I adopted her strategy and started easy.

‘First up. You got any family?'

‘Just a brother.'

Her voice softened a little, and I guessed he was important to her. I decided it was worth wasting another question finding out more.

‘Is he a Guard too?'

She nodded. ‘Yeah. For a while now. But he's not like that one you saw. He's a good man. He's the reason I joined.'

I thought about that. She'd said she'd joined to make a difference. Now it was because of her brother. Which answer was true? Maybe neither. Maybe both. As for her brother being a good man, I let that one go. The only good man I'd ever met was my grandfather, and he was long gone. I was fairly sure there were no good men left.