8 Chapter 8

He had been correct in assuming Caesar would not be pleased to hear of his actions, and Vulpes listened to Caesar railing at him.

"She is a slave, a woman; she belongs to the Legion. Her body belongs to the Legion and any legionnaire that desires her. You can't enforce otherwise"

Vulpes was calm, though he was treading dangerous waters. Women were an awfully sensitive subject to Caesar. But something in Vulpes stirred, something akin to a protective rage. The last thing he wanted in this world was her getting raped, and that went against all Legion training that had been so deeply-ingrained in his soul. He had a higher calling, a higher duty and loyalty than to the condition of this girl. Maria.

He leaned closer to Caesar and attempted the dangerous by challenging him. "Isn't the Legion supposed to be better than the profligates? Aren't we supposed to rise above the debased hungers that the degenerates so easily succumb to?"

To his surprise, Caesar laughed. "In an ideal world, perhaps. The Legion isn't perfect by any means, Vulpes. Men have their desires, and I would be foolish to deny them their innate right. If you care so much for this girl's virginity, then take her for a wife. Then no one would be able to touch her, aside from you."

His whole body tensed at the idea. In some fantasy, he had considered this same thought but never put enough merit to it to actually believe it realized. What stopped him was an uncharacteristic bout of insecurity. He did not think she would want to marry him, not that she would actually have a choice in the matter. Even so, it was the only solution that made sense, especially since he was so hell-bent on protecting her.

"What's your decision, Vulpes? I don't have all day," Caesar demanded.

Vulpes steeled himself for it.

***

Her brush with rape cemented her conviction to escape.

So she carefully watched all the legionnaires, their every move, every breath. The key to escape was quite literally a key to the slave collars. She feared that the Legion might not even keep one around, but she made its remarkable discovery and watched it like a bird of prey.

She knew which centurion had it and when. And she waited for her golden opportunity.

She told only Carla of her plan, having it in mind to take her and Baby Craig with her. She could not possibly release every slave, but she could leave the key where other slaves could make their own attempts for freedom.

A plan began taking shape in her head. They would do it at night. So she watched sentry movements instead of sleeping. She tested the perimeter during the day for weaknesses. And after a week of careful plotting, she was ready.

It was a miracle, she realized, that no other rape attempt had occurred, but perhaps she had Vulpes to thank for that.

Then a strange notion came to her, that she might actually miss Vulpes Inculta, and she stifled the feeling.

To prepare herself, she slept for about an hour in the afternoon. It was then that her recurring dream reappeared.

Since the day Doc Mitchell had brought her back from the dead, she had one reoccurring dream. It didn't come to her every night, but it was frequent enough that it made her think it was something meaningful from her past, a memory desperately trying to resurface into awareness.

--

She was far away from the Mojave, that much she knew. It was dark, nighttime, but the air was still unbearably hot, thick with humidity. Sweat drenched her clothes and skin.

A soft kiss on her brow, sticky with heat. And its whispered promise, "I'll come back for you at Sunrise. A fox always knows where to go."

Her knees ached, crouched in some tense position, waiting anxiously. Looking east. The sun would be there, and so would him.

Hours passed. Night became the gray dawn. Sunrise turned into day. Long shadows disappeared with the high noon sun.

Still crouched, still waiting. Anxiously waiting.

Night once more, along with the heartbreak of a violated promise.

Realizing the lies, she went west where she died and was reborn.

---

She started from her nap, heart hammering wildly in her chest. Only a dream. Only a dream.

Hours after nightfall, she easily secured the collar key, holding it close and knowing she only had some precious minutes before anyone missed it. Then she went searching for Carla and found her in the designated meeting place, behind the healer's tent. She nodded to her. "Let's go."

They skirted the crest of Fortification Hill, making their way behind Caesar's tent, towards the weather station. She had found a weakness in the fencing there.

They pressed themselves to the darkness and held their breath as guards pass. She carefully counted the seconds, a brief window where their actions would go unnoticed.

When it was time, she unlocked their collars, Carla's first and hers second. Baby Craig had the fortune to not have one, being as small as he was.

She quickly kicked the key and the collars away from them and set to work prying open the loose board that was their gateway to freedom. Her excitement made her breathless, and her fingers fumbled with splinters. She ignored the minuscule pricks of pain; it was nothing compared to enslavement.

When the board finally gave away, her breath caught in her throat. A part of her did not dare to hope to be so lucky. Through the gap she saw nothing but the steep incline of the hill and the glimmering waters of the river.

A wind blew and she tasted the freshness of liberation.

She almost turned back to usher Carla through first when movement caught her eye. She froze, cursing her moment of breathless carelessness.

But then a face appeared before her, knocking the wind out of her once more.

"Boone?" she hissed.

He looked utterly exhausted and filthy. She saw her own surprise reflected in his sunglasses.

But he was just as stunned, judging from his voice. "You're escaping?"

"How did you know?" she asked, turning dizzy from her string of lucky coincidences.

"I didn't. I'm sorry. That night they took you, I heard you scream. I tried to save you, but you were already gone. I'm sorry." He took a breath to compose himself. "I came here, doing some recon on the place, hoping I could bust you out. I didn't want you to think I'd given up on you so easily."

Thrilling blood pumped through her ears at his words. And then he gently caressed her cheek. He made a move to kiss her.

But, just as last time, something held her back, the same reason that previously stalled her movements. She pulled away from his sweet tenderness, secretly aching for his touch though knowing it was wrong. Boone was not hers.

"There's someone you should meet," she said, much too sadly for this reunion. She scooted away from the gap and ushered Carla holding Baby Craig through. As it was, Carla heard little or nothing of their exchange, and it only made her feel all the more guilty.

She saw the confusion twist Boone's face, but it was only for a moment until he recognized his wife and son in front of him.

"Carla!"

And then he embraced her much more tenderly than she had ever seen him. It pricked something in her chest, but she pushed the feeling away.

It warmed something in her smile to see the family together again, and she knew she did a good job of keeping Carla and Baby Craig safe. Carla began hiccuping into teary gasps.

Then Carla pulled away from her husband to look at her. "She helped us so many times. There is no way I can repay her kindness."

The warmth in Boone's eyes was genuine when he looked back to her. "Of course she would. How can I ever thank you?"

But the tense anticipation returned. They had tarried for far too long at the fence. The Legion was certain to see them.

"We can talk about it later—"

"Over here!"

But there would be no later. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the area swarming with guards, all pointing at her. Her eyes went wide and she turned back to the Boones. "Go, now!"

Without waiting for their reaction, she pushed Carla through the gap and saw her rolling down the hill, curled and clutching their child safely to her chest, her husband with her in the darkness.

Then she tried—she tried. She squeezed herself through the gap in the fencing and was about to dive down the hill herself.

But her hair, her damn hair. A legionnaire pulled it, preventing her escape.

Her despair was indescribable.