Our trucks turned off the main road leading north-east of the village where the woman and her daughters used to live. The local road is difficult to navigate, but it is possible to force our way through the branches and smaller trunks that’s been scattered because of a number of storms over the years. 

I had been this far north once before but had been forced to turn back when Zoya injured her left hind paw on something sharp. I would never risk her health—let alone her life. She’s kept me alive, I owe her to do the same. I look at Miranda, who once again has a big admirer in my German Shepherd. Zoya has her chin on Miranda’s knee, and I have to hide an unfamiliar smile when she automatically scratches the dog behind the ears. Zoya makes a sound like a purring cat. Miranda glances at her and then shakes her head.

“Charmer,” she says and continues to pet Zoya.

“Two minutes out, Colonel,” says Martin, who’s at the wheel. “Still, no one in sight. I haven’t heard anything from the advance party.”

Miranda doesn’t want any more surprises and has sent two scouts ahead on two old motorcycles that I didn’t even know they had access to, let alone stowed in the second truck. Judging from the old, faded green appearance, the bikes are obviously from some old military depot and have seen better days, but the main thing is that they work.

“I brought them as backup in case we’d run into a situation where we need reinforcements. They’re faster than you think, and definitely faster than the trucks,” Miranda said when I had merely gaped as the guys unloaded them. How the hell had they fit them in there next to the three horses?

We turn off the local road onto a narrower one. It leads to the south part of the farmland and then on to the hill country which also has dense forests. After twenty some miles, we’ve reached the intersection that leads to the gravel road where we’re going to turn and hide the trucks and unload the horses. They’ll need a moment to calm down after the jerky ride and the explosions. Horses are naturally skittish critters.

The soldiers on the motorcycles have doubled back and are waiting for us, to help unload the horses. There are two stunning chestnut horses, and a brown half-blood gelding. The latter is the calmest of them, which she demonstrates by immediately starting to graze while looking superiorly at the other two as they prance around and roll their eyes for five minutes before, they realize that everything is all right.

I’ve practiced walking with all three of them at the same time, riding one and keeping the other two behind me. Secretly, I’ve also practiced something I can use if I need to further impress, or distract, any of these hostile farmers. They’ll regret mistaking me for an idiot who just happened to stumble upon them with three horses and is now hoping for the best bid.

Miranda approaches, and I see that she’s tense. “It’s almost time, Andy.” She pulls me aside, behind some brushes. “Are you ready? If you’ve changed your mind…?”

“I haven’t and I won’t.” My voice is firm, and I look her steadily in the eyes. “I’ve been waiting for this opportunity for thirteen years. I think about Theo every day, and yes, I know he’s a young man now, not a little boy, but it doesn’t matter. I’m going to ride over there, and I’m going to find him—or traces of him.” I kick at the ground. “I know my ploy with the horses is for you all to get into position and surround them. I’m not going to do anything foolhardy.” Much.

Miranda’s eyes are dark with an indefinable feeling. She holds my upper arms in a firm grip, shaking me lightly. “Don’t take any unnecessary risks. We have eyes on you the whole time. When you have their undivided attention, you know what to do. If you are in danger before that, you know—what—to do.” She’s not joking.

“Absolutely.” I don’t know if it’s her eyes, now almost a dark purple, that suddenly give me strange chest pains. She wants this mission to work, and she is wary of my getting hurt, or worse. Well, that goes both ways. I’ll do this.” I demonstrate the sign, left arm bent at ninety degrees at the elbow, hand bent outwards at ninety degrees at the wrist. “Or this.” I make the gesture with my right hand. “If that doesn’t work, I think you should just assume that any weapon’s fire is a sign.”

“God.” Miranda stands silently for a few seconds, seems to hesitate, but then she frames my face with her hands. “Good luck, Andy.” She kisses me on the mouth and then turns and returns to the trucks.

I can barely breathe. I still feel her lips against mine. It wasn’t the like passionate kisses we have exchanged before, but a kiss that shows me what I’ll miss out on if I do something stupid—like getting myself killed. It was as if she was putting her mark on me, but not in a possessive way…more like a reminder. 

I take a few deep breaths and return to the gravel road where the horses are now lined up. I mount the brown, calmer one, called Domino, and keep the two skittish-prone horses to my left.

The soldiers tie the horses together and give me the rope. Domino steps a little to the left but calms down when I hug him with my knees and whinnies softly. You don’t need to use any big gestures to correct him, just keep it gentle.

The two soldiers who went to scout on their motorcycles are now ready to continue behind me on foot. After them, Miranda and the rest of the soldiers will stay close, but also out of sight, ready for their part of the mission.

I’m tense for the first fifteen minutes but make myself relax by breathing deeply and slowly. Ogden has taught me several relaxation techniques over the years, and now I need them more than ever. The thought of Ogden distracts me, and I immediately push him out of my mind and focus on what I’m about to do. Theo., I need to think about Theo now. I’m finally here, and I mustn’t sabotage myself by worrying about anything else.

Beside me, Zoya is on alert as she runs next to Domino, alert and watchful, which feels reassuring. Until today, I had toyed with the idea of her staying with Miranda and the others, but I’m so used to counting on Zoya when I’m out on my walks that I need her. Honestly, I don’t think I could have ordered Zoya to stay behind. She’s intuitive and stubborn that way.

The road is lined by forests on both sides. Far too dense for it to have been like this before the birds. It’s undergrowth that has remained untamed and grown into tall trees that obscure potential houses behind. Maybe people live quiet lives there and would never hurt a fly. Somehow, I doubt it. 

As far as I know, the farmers have this area in an iron grip. If anyone lives in a real house along the road here, it’s because they’ve allied themselves with the farmers. Do their bidding—perhaps even booby trap cars to keep people out. I’m constantly prepared to draw one of my weapons or set Domino and the other horses into a gallop. As of now, I’m riding at an easy trot in the soft grass between the road and the ditch. It saves the horses’ hooves as they are unshod, and it keeps the noise down. We don’t have a farrier who can shoe horses with us, but some are good at filing their hooves, and keeping after them that way.

The large farm, the one that controls most of the others, according to what intel I have gathered over the last year, comes into sight. I know I’ll be spotted as soon as I clear the trees and come within sight of their guards. I move the horses out on the road for their hooves to make deliberate noise. I don a cocky expression and whistle as nonchalantly as I can as I keep riding. My Glock and my baseball bat are where they should be, well within sight. It’s good if they see that I’m armed and not an easy target. Hopefully, they’re curiosity, and no doubt, greed, when they see the stunning horses will keep them from shooting me. After all, I just might know where they can obtain more.

A beautifully written sign, obviously made by someone skilled in calligraphy, announces that the farm is called Dandelion Farm. A little too romantic for me, but to each their own. I turn towards the farm buildings, and now I see that there is a large metal gate further up the road. I slow down and let the horses stroll.

A thundering voice shouts, “Dismount your horse and stay there. We’ll come out and meet you.”

Really? I don’t think so. I shake my head and shout back, “If you’re interested in buying any of the horses, open the gate. If you don’t, I’ll move on to the next farm.” I hope they’ll accept the challenge. There are four people at the gate. As far as I can tell, they’re all men. They won’t be impressed by a young woman right away. 

I see it as a sign that I should use my surprise moment. Without hesitation, I stand up on Domino’s back while pulling on the rope to the other horses. The chestnuts come up alongside Domino, and I put one foot over onto the closest one’s back. I’ve naturally been gifted with good balance, and now I click my tongue to get them moving again. Obediently, they fall into a trot, and when I click my tongue again and say, “Ha!!!” they speed up and change their gait. I’m grateful to those who trained these horses once upon a time. Now that they’re running side by side, they glide forward as one.

The men threw open the gate and remain motionless, with half open mouths as I rush past them. They thr0w themselves after us, running with drawn weapons, but they don’t stand a chance against the horses. Zoya runs on my right side. She seems to enjoy stretching her legs, and her eyes are as sharp as ever. When the men finally catch up with me, I have already reined in the horses and dismounted. I now stand with Domino’s reins and the rope holding the chestnuts in my left hand, and the baseball bat in my right.

The farm is undeniably impressive. A beautiful, white wooden house sits in the middle of an apple orchard, which in turn is surrounded by six red barns, two stables, and four silos. I glimpse the fields between the buildings and see people moving over there. I don’t allow myself more than just a fleeting thought that one of them might be Theo but focus on the men who now stand in a semi-circle in front of me.

“Well, I’ll be damned. It’s a chick.” One of the men leers at me, but I don’t care. It wasn’t the first time it’s happened, and I never acknowledge such things, nor am I very bothered by it, unless said person try to put their hands on me. If someone were to look at Emma the same way in my presence, however, I wouldn’t react with the same indifference. “Who are you? And where do you come from?”

I stick to the plan. “My name is Andy. I belong to a large stud farm down south of Remerton. We came up to these parts a few weeks ago. Traveled with a group of soldiers.” We have discussed it back and forth and decided that the farmers’ scouts must have seen Miranda and her soldiers when they arrived. If not, it’s still good if they realize that they aren’t just dealing with a young girl, even if she is quite well-armed. Considering that I’m quite sure these people created the booby trap that nearly took Martin’s and Tom’s lives, the less facts I make up, the better. These guys are the definition of ‘loose cannons.’”

“Those are some fine animals you have. Are there more?” One of the men looks behind me as if they think I’ll pull a horse out of a top hat.

“There sure are. We have horses for all purposes. As you can see.” I gesture with my chin towards the horses. “This is just a small selection. Who do I talk to do business?”

“To me.” A dark voice answers, and I realize I haven’t been as observant as I should have. Luckily, the tall man is standing far enough away not to pose an immediate threat. Zoya growls low in her throat, and I understand that she senses my sudden nervousness. “Is the dog also for sale?” the man asks and approaches slowly. He has blond hair down to his shoulders and looks about ten, fifteen years older than me. His eyes are light blue, and his skin is weathered and with that type of permanent tan that some get from always being outdoors.

“No,” I say calmly. “Only the horses.”

“I’m sure we could come to an agreement. A trained dog like yours is worth her weight in… well, wheat?” He laughs, and the four men who has hurried through the gate after me laughs too. It doesn’t sound very spontaneous, and it’s crystal clear who’s in charge here—even when it comes to lame jokes.

“I’m not selling my dog. I don’t recommend that you try to either her or me.” I know better than to sound threatening. The years have taught me that the less theatrical you come across, the bigger impression you make. If you yell, scream, and beat your chest, you’ve already lost.

“Okay, okay.” The man puts his hands up, palms toward me me. “No need to get all worked up. What do you want for the horses? I want to buy all three of them.”

“I’m sure you could, but these ones aren’t for sale right now.” I knew I’m going to irritate them now. “See me and these horses as a living, breathing commercial. Then you can, if you want, come to our trading post where we’ve set up tents, and participate in the auction.”

“What kind of auction?” one of the farmhands asks.

“A horse auction,” I answer patiently. “We’re inviting all the farms around here, plus in people in Remerton and its surrounding subdivisions. That way, we get the best price, and you’ll all have a fair chance to win.”

“No auction,” the farm owner, or manager, says. “We own practically all the farms in Sjuntorp. There’s no one in Lilla Edet or Ale who has a chance to outbid us anyway.” He frowned. “Name your price. I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

“I don’t think so, unless you want to come to the auction. Unless I could… but I can’t…” I pretended to be thoughtful. “Maybe if I… but no, probably not.”

“What are you on about now?” The man takes a step closer but changes his mind when Zoya discreetly raises her hackles.

“My boss. Maybe she can be persuaded to part with a few horses as a goodwill gesture. I’m not sure. She’s mostly interested in making a good deal when it comes to the horses.”

“Is it far to your camp?” the man asks.

“It’s about two hours on horseback,” I say.

“I can send a messenger if you tell me exactly where it is.” The man tries for a few steps closer now. “In the meantime, you could be a guest here.” He looks victorious, which confirms that he has been top dog for long enough to be convinced that all his thinly veiled orders will be regarded favorably. This isn’t the case now.

“I must look like an idiot, but luckily that’s not true. I’m not going to give you a premature description of our camp. If anyone is going to deliver any messages, it’s me. As you may have guessed, I get a percentage of every horse I sell, of every customer I bring in. If I let you deal directly with my boss, I’d lose my share.” I shrug, and it isn’t hard to act nonchalantly. These guys are so used never having their dominance challenged, they haven’t had to master the art of negotiations and being cunning.

“Okay. But I’ll take all four of these anyway.” The man with the blue eyes smiled victoriously, another rookie mistake. One of Ogden’s rules is never to count your chickens before they hatch. It takes away your edge.

Now he comes up to me and extends his right hand in a greeting that belongs to the time before the birds. We stopped shaking hands when the virus really kicked in. Not just because of the deadly virus, but to avoid spreading previously harmless diseases that could now become life-threatening when no medicines are manufactured anymore, and the pharmacy shelves are empty.

I know I won’t get a better chance. I hope I look a little flattered and charmed, as that is obviously what he expects. He is what used to go for as a ruggedly handsome man, even I can see that. Extending my hand after hooking my baseball bat behind my right shoulder in the body harness. When I have the man’s hand in mine, I squeeze hard and yank him towards me. I swing my upper body like in a practiced dance step, spinning him before he has time to react, and at the same time, I let a knife fall into my left palm from its hiding place inside my jacket sleeve. With quick movements, I twist his hand up his back and place the razor-sharp edge against his throat. This is a signal to Miranda and the others if there ever was one.

“Let me go!” the man screams. “Walter! Troy! Ring the bell!” 

"Stand perfectly still." I raise my voice and move so that I stand with the horses behind me and Zoya at my right side. She growls and keeps her gaze fixed on the man I'm have at knife point. "If you move even an inch, I'll start peeling this guy like an apple, strip by strip."

"You fucking idiots! Just shoot her!" The man tries to sound tough, I have to admit, but his voice has a whiny undertone, which sends chills down my spine. Can this really be the farm's strongman? It’s hard to believe. Worried that I might be onto something, I oscillate slowly in a semicircle, back and forth, to avoid being taken by surprise.

"Zoya. Guard." My dog pricks her ears and looks around, eager to search on my command. We've practiced this at home in The Hudskills since she was a puppy. No matter how many people that are gathered around me, she will scout for newcomers and warn me.

"Shoot her, for God's sake!" the man bellows, but falls silent when I let the tip of the knife penetrate his skin just in front of his carotid artery. One careless movement on his part, and he’ll risk bleeding out where he stands.

"You better be quiet. Who else is on the farm? Anyone home in the main house? Maybe the little wife and the sweet children?" I know I’m getting on his nerves, but I want him to focus on me rather than ordering his men to storm us. As it is now, they are perplexed and without a common goal. The longer I can keep them confused and disorganized, the better.

"My wife. She's innocent. My children are innocent. There are no outlaws here. We’re just hardworking farmers."

"Well, then. Then all’s well with the world. Of course, I believe you at your word." Does the man perceive the sarcasm in what I’m saying? Maybe.

"But Kenneth! What the hell do you want us to do?" one of the men I first saw shouts. "Should we fire the rockets?"

"No, that won’t be necessary," answers Kenneth, the man I’m threatening. "We're going to buy new horses, so calm the fuck down."

"But the barns then?" one of the other men says and receives a furious look from others.

"Shut up," Kenneth growls, and I take a firmer grip on his arm and twist it a little more, making sure I have that special grip of his thumb that Ogden showed me early on. Kenneth groans loudly but stays still. I make sure to keep the horses close to me and Zoya between me and the rest of them. She's wearing her bulletproof vest just like me, but that doesn't protect us from headshots. Zoya crouches down, and the man standing closest to her pales and takes a step back.

"You probably shouldn't try and make a bid for on the dog, Kenneth," he says weakly. "That bitch seems unstable if you ask me."

“Just shut up.” Kenneth is obviously still angry at the loose-lipped man who mentioned the barns. So, he’s unwilling for the barns to be mentioned. That’s where they house their workers? There's no other place I can think of.

"What's in the barns then?" I ask lightly. "Gold and riches? We're not that interested in that. We want to be paid in vegetables, potatoes, and grain. If you’ve scraped together a bunch of jewelry and other unnecessary stuff, we might be interested." If they think I’m this gullible, that I’d think they would be into what enriched people in the old times, then I’ve sold my image of being strong, but not the brightest bulb. 

"We'll make sure everyone is satisfied." Kenneth relaxes, but I know he's preparing to break free if he gets the chance. I don’t give an inch.

Then I see Zoya turn her ears towards the south, even though she doesn’t take her eyes off the men surrounding us for a second. A quick glance in the direction I came from confirms that the two trucks are driving as fast as they can go. They can barely be heard yet, but soon the men will notice engines and the motorcycles. I take a firmer grip on the knife and pull myself backward in between the nervous horses. One happens to hit Kenneth on the head with her chin, and he flinches. The knife slides against his skin, and he groans.

"What the hell… what are you doing?" he mutters and tries to parry the horses’ movements.

I release his arm and press the knife harder against his throat while I raise my left Glock. Without him getting a chance to twist free or grab me, I press the muzzle against his lower back. “If you try anything, you can forget about ever taking another step on your own. You know what a bullet that shreds both vertebrae and spinal cord can do. If you don’t bleed to death, it means a life in a wheelchair. How will you then maintain power among all your farmers?” I hiss. It gives me a perverse satisfaction to smell the scent of fear as his sweat breaks out. It runs down into his eyes, gathers on his upper lip, and runs down his neck. “And if you harbor any hope that you’re only dealing with one woman, you can put that out of your mind. They sent me in first because I’m not only the youngest but also the one who’s crazy and unscrupulous. I’ve killed enough people for it not to bother me at all to do it again. On the contrary, I have my hopes of carving a new mark into my pistol holster.” It’s not true at all, but I’ve become good at bluffing over the years, and I can see that he’s starting to believe my exaggerations. Perhaps he knows that a lot of us who were in our formative years when we lost it all, also lost our minds just a bit.

"Damn it. What do you want?"

"You'll see. It shouldn't be hard to figure out, actually." I snort and press the muzzle of the Glock harder against his back.

Now the men around us stir and point towards the approaching vehicles. "Incoming! Fire the rockets!"

"We're not doing that at all," I shout and take a step closer to them, pushing Kenneth in front of me. "Tell them to stand down, or I'll shoot you right here and now, and then them…and even if these are just your very replaceable henchmen, sooner or later, I’ll find someone you do care about."

"If you shoot me, you have nothing to bargain with," Kenneth says harshly.

"Yes, I do. I can shoot you many times before I allow one of my bullets to hit something vital. It will hurt like hell. Should we try it, so you understand what I mean?" Now I let the muzzle slide further down him and press it against his tailbone. “A shot here takes out both the tailbone, a large part of the intestines, and the bladder. Give them the order to stay put and drop their weapons.”

"Stop moving!" Kenneth bellows the words, and now he’s shaking. "Stay, damn it. Drop your guns!"

The men stop and stare. "But the other farms… they have to know…" Only the youngest of them obeys completely.

"No, they don’t," I say. This entire time, I struggle to keep my hands from trembling. I’m more nervous now than when I arrived alone with the horses. Now that all the soldiers are two hundred meters away, I’m afraid we’ve overlooked something or someone who will stop our mission.

But the trucks come rushing into the farm, and out jumps Miranda with her assault rifle in her hands, followed by the other soldiers. The motorcycles drive towards the main house followed by four soldiers from the trucks. They go inside, and Kenneth roars in panic. "Stella! Stella!"

"Take it easy," says Miranda, approaching. "Unlike you, we don't harm innocent individuals. If your wife or girlfriend doesn't resist using force, my soldiers will take her and anyone else in the house with them outside in a calm and orderly manner."

She’s barely finished speaking when several shots echo from the house.