Her mouth snapped shut, and she leapt intomotion, catching up with Eamon and tagging along behind him as hethreaded through the camp.
“Sir.” Eamon stopped in front of Perry andwaited to be acknowledged.
“What is it?”
Eamon knelt down and slid the book in frontof Perry. “You might want to read this.”
The corner of Perry’s mouth pulled down indispleasure. “I don’t have time for games. There’s a-“
His voice trailed off as he caught sight ofthe smooth charcoal lines rendering a revenant. With a skepticalglance at Eamon, he picked up the book and read the description.When he was done, he leaned back, tapping the book on the makeshifttable while studying Eamon and then Shea in turn.
“Where did you get this?”
Eamon gestured behind him at Shea. “It’s theboy’s.”
Those fierce eyes focused on Shea, studyingher with a greater intensity than they had earlier thatafternoon.
“This pickleberry juice.” Perry checked thejournal to make sure he was saying it right. “Is it hard tomake?”
Eamon nudged her when she was silent a momenttoo long. “Not at all, sir. All you need to do is crush the berriesagainst your clothing and skin. The plants are all over thesehills.”
Perry leaned forward placing the book infront of Eamon. “Ensure this information is distributed to myscouts and then the rest of the company. Send him and severalparties out to find these berries. Enough for the entirecompany.”
“Yes, sir.”
Eamon spun and strode off. Shea lingered amoment looking in slight confusion between his retreating back andPerry, who was examining the map. Then she trailed after Eamon ashe pulled several men from their campfires and assembled them in asmall gathering.
Buck stopped by Shea and squinted at thegroup. “What’s going on?”
Clark interrupted before Shea opened hermouth. “Your boy there might’ve given us a fighting chancetomorrow.”
Shea disagreed. “I don’t think thatinformation is going to have the effect you think it will. It wasjust an observation I made during my last encounter. It’s neverbeen verified.”
Clark shrugged. “Maybe not, but we know moreabout the enemy than we did an hour ago. If nothing else, it’llhelp the soldiers see the beast as something that’s killable. Youdon’t know how important that is. If they think something isimpossible before they even start, they won’t last long. This waythey have hope. Sometimes that makes all the difference.”
Clark watched as Eamon held up the book andexplained what needed to get done before the morning. The men andwomen listened intently, their faces focused as they internalizedhis words.
Shea followed his gaze. All this time writingher observations down thinking nobody would ever see them, muchless think them relevant. At times she had struggled to keep goingas she wondered at the point of continuing.
This, in some small fashion, was her dreamrealized but not in any way she had ever imagined.
Chapter Ten
Shea tilted her head back to examine thegnarled branches of a tree. The dead forest inhabited a thin stripof land only a few hundred meters wide but stretched in eitherdirection. Charred from some long ago fire, the trees’ bark gleamedwhite and smooth against a sky pregnant with rain clouds.
With every step, fine ash floated up from thescorched earth. It was a barren wasteland where nothing grew,marking the beginning of the revenant’s territory.
There should have been some sign that theearth was healing, a glimpse of green against the unrelenting grayand black, birds returning to make nests. Something. Instead, itwas just a strip of land that the living had permanentlyabandoned.
What could have happened here to so totallyconsign the area to the realm of the dead?
Clark had told her that when Perry’s men fledpast the first dead tree the revenants refused to step foot ontothe scorched land, instead pacing back and forth as if an invisiblewall separated them from their prey. Shea shivered. She could seewhy. Even the still air made her think of dead and decayingthings.
Even knowing that revenants waited on theother side, she looked forward to putting this dreadful placebehind her.
Quiet gripped the morning. There was none ofthe neighborly chatter that usually characterized a movement.Everyone jumped at shadows. Even yesterday’s cheerful Clark hadgone missing, leaving a watchful stranger whose hand never strayedfar from the blade at his hip.
There was a collective inhale when the menstepped over the clear line dividing the dead zone from revenantterritory. A pall dropped over the group, turning the mood thickand heavy with grim anticipation.
