“Look.” He held out the plant he had just pulled. The moon had not yet risen, and it was difficult to see what he held-difficult, but not impossible. Attached to the stem, grouped in with a few leaves and tiny berries, was a single, wilted flower, a pale, bell-shaped flower that started alarms in my head.
I had read about those, long ago, while studying in a library for a life I had never thought to lead. My herbal knowledge was sketchy at best, but I still recalled something about white, bell-shaped flowers. “What is it?”
“Lily of the Valley.”
I dropped the plant and wiped my hands on my pants. “Everybody stop!” I hissed. “Put the plants back down!”
But I was too late. Behind me, I heard the sounds of someone retching. A young girl about Megan’s age knelt on her hands and knees, shaking and vomiting. “Check her, Brad!”
I ran through the squad to make sure that everyone knew what was happening. “This isn’t garlic. It’s poisonous! Don’t rub your eyes. Don’t put your fingers in your mouth. Don’t get it on any cuts or scratches. This stuff can kill you!” People dropped the plants like they had found another nest of snakes.
“Drop your sacks and wash your hands in the water.” It was too dark to see their expressions, but no one wasted time with questions. They dumped everything they had immediately. A young kid of about nineteen dropped to his knees and rinsed his mouth in the creek.
Seeing that, I groaned, knowing that he had probably tasted some of the plant as he picked it. That was common enough while foraging, but this time it could prove fatal. I only hoped he hadn’t eaten very much.
“How much would it take to kill someone?” Brad was the one who had realized what we were picking, so I assumed he knew something about the plant.
“Not much, I would guess.” The catch in his voice made me turn.
The girl he held was no longer retching or shaking. Nor was she breathing.
“Damn!” I turned to the squad. “Who else tasted this stuff?”
Only one other hand raised, and it belonged to the kid I’d seen rinsing his mouth.
“How do you feel?”
“O-okay.”
“You tell me if you start feeling anything, all right?”
“Yes, sir.”
I turned to the rest of the squad. “Who knows this girl?”
“I do.” Rene raised her hand. “Se llama…” She took a deep breath. “She… her name is Rosalyn. Rosalyn Johnson.” Johnson. I vaguely recalled her as a sometime friend of Megan’s who’d occasionally dropped by the house before Megan had begun spending all her free time with Andrew.
“Okay. You four,” I indicated four men, “gather up Rosalyn and carry her with us. We’re going back to camp as fast as we can. Anyone who feels the least bit sick, sing out!”
Unfortunately, the damage was done. Less than a mile into the forest, the young man I had spoken with began complaining of severe cramps and a headache. He fell, shivering and cramping, and died along the way. Richard Lister complained of his eyes burning and had to be guided by two others. That slowed us down considerably, and it was more than an hour before we made it back to the main camp. We caused quite a commotion coming in at a run, even more so when people found we were carrying two dead and one wounded.
Someone must have told Jim right away, because he was there almost immediately. “What happened, Lee? Booby trap?”
Panting from the long run, I took a minute to catch my breath. “Lily… of the… Valley.”
“What? Lily of the Valley?”
“Thought… it was… garlic. Two dead.” I hung my head. Two dead. My responsibility. My fault.
Jim must have known what I was thinking and knew better than to try to say anything. He just squeezed my shoulder and handed me an open canteen. I took a quick swig and nearly choked. Now not only was I out of breath, but my eyes were watering as well.
“Jeez! What the hell is that?”
He showed his teeth in a slight smile. “Moonshine. Tastes like mule piss, with the kick thrown in as an afterthought. Don’t drink too much.”
“No problem there.” I handed the canteen back and wiped my eyes. Looking at the tears on the back of my hand, I remembered Richard. I climbed back to my feet and went to see him.
Debra was examining him by the light of the small, shielded fire. As I walked over, I could see how red and puffy the area around his eyes was.
“Can you see my hand?” Debra waved three fingers in front of his face.
He blinked repeatedly and squinted. “Yeah, but my eyes burn like hell!” He blinked several more times, forcing tears from his eyes, and then asked what must have been on everyone’s mind. “Am I gonna go blind? Is this stuff gonna blind me?” He kept his tone controlled and matter-of-fact, but his Adam’s apple bobbed with apprehension.
Debra was silent for a moment, as if considering her answer. Finally, she answered calmly, “I’m not going to lie to you, Mr. Lister. There’s a chance that it will.”
Lister’s shoulders slumped, and she hastened to continue. “But I don’t think so. Your eyes are tearing so much because they’re fighting to flush out the sap you got in them. The fact that you can still see after this long, and that your tear ducts are still functioning, seems to indicate that you’re going to be just fine. I want you to keep a warm, wet compress on your eyes tonight and try to get some sleep. We’ll see how you feel in the morning.”
I watched as Richard’s wife lead him away before I turned to Debra. “Is he really going to be all right?”
She sighed. “I have no earthly idea. I’ve never dealt with this before. Mom would have known what to do.” She stopped before following too far down that line of thought. “Anyway, I think he’ll be okay.”
She patted me on the back. “Go get some rest, Lee. I’ll tend your men.”
I nodded and headed for our lean-to. I was almost there when I realized that one person from my squad was missing. Brad Stephenson, the man who had first recognized the plant, had disappeared.
I thought back to the last time I remembered seeing him and realized that it hadn’t been since before our wild run back to camp. Brad was older, granted, but he had gone on raids in the past and never exhibited any tendency to lag behind. The more I thought about it, the more I feared he might have tasted the plant and not mentioned it. That would be just like him.
Now what?
For me, the answer was obvious. The squad leader was responsible for those under his command. I was squad leader and, though I felt I had already made a pretty big mess of things, it was up to me to see it through. If that meant carrying the body of a friend back by myself, then so be it. There was no need to risk anyone else.
Without saying anything to anyone, I slipped back out of camp.
Finding the right spot on the bank of the drainage ditch wasn’t difficult. We had left in a hurry and left plenty of signs that we had been there. But I still found no sign of Brad.
In fact, it wasn’t until I crossed the ditch that I picked up his trail. Footprints led out of the ditch and into the town in a direction we hadn’t traveled.
I thought through all that had happened, searching my memories for clues. The clue was there, back at the ditch. It was a few moments before it hit me, but once I thought about it, I knew what he was doing.
Breaking into a run, I raced to catch him.
I was much too late. We had taken an hour to run through the woods to camp. It had taken forty-five minutes for me to get back to the ditch. That was nearly two hours for Stephenson to pull it off.
That I hadn’t already run into him coming back meant it had either gone bad, or he had gone back some other way. As much as I hoped for the latter, I couldn’t think of any good reason for him to do so.
As I reached the outskirts of USR amp;D territory, I slowed, taking more care to stick to the shadows. Something was going on, something that had stirred the enemy like a stick in a beehive. Everywhere I went, people were yelling. Some yelled orders, others cursed. Still others screamed in pain and misery. I peered out of
