Toy Soldiers

by Dabeagle & Ryan Bartlett

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Chapter 6

Harlequin

My foot healed, and I knew I was well enough to travel again. Keeping me from doing so was Cassidy and his studies, Tim and his beauty, and that there were five books in the series I was reading. I dearly wished to finish the books.

I knew it was only a matter of time before Ms. Myrtle Snow returned to say that no database showed a 'Harlequin Greene' as being born or missing. That would lead to more investigation, perhaps a visit from The Corporation if I were spectacularly unlucky. So I knew my time was short. I spent it enjoying Cass and his slow realization that he wasn't stupid, Tim's beauty both inside and out, and the progress of my books.

It was some two weeks later, after lying in bed on a Sunday evening after lights out and thinking that I'd go to Tim's pallet willingly. It would be rare to touch such beauty, to be possessed by it if but fleetingly. I was in the habit of making judgments about people quickly – one never knew how long you'd have them – and I felt Tim was what I thought he was. I also felt time pressing down upon me, the pressure of impending departure.

So it was on that Monday, as we stood with his other friends – friends who were not friends in the sense that he and I were – that I planned to say as much to him. As we entered the building I tugged on his sleeve to pull him from the crush. As I did so, however, my perception was altered as his eyes followed another rare beauty. Samantha Keenan had long, long chestnut hair that framed her face and spilled over her shoulders and down her back. Her skin was similar to Tim's in tone, but her darker hair gave it a whole new look. Her large brown eyes took in the world with a look of innocence. I mentally added her to the weapon, the flower, the stained glass, the library and Tim.

“You have good taste,” I told him.

“Harley, she's the real deal, man.” His eyes tracked her down the hallway, and then she was lost.

“Why isn't she yours?”

“She has a real jealous ex,” he said, twisting his lips. “Brent threatens anyone that gets near her.”

“Do you think he's a credible threat?”

“Yeah. She's totally worth getting your ass kicked, though,” he said with a grin.

“Then you should speak to her.”

“No, I can't, man,” he said and headed down the hall to our first class. I fell into step next to him.

“Why?”

“She's so pretty. I just don't think she'd go out with me,” Tim confessed.

“Tim,” I grabbed his arm and brought him to a stop. “That's patently stupid. You're easily the most attractive male in this school – nothing should stop you from speaking to her, even if your appearance isn't her cup of tea.”

“Uh, wow. Thanks, Harley,” he said, smiling a little secretively. “Let's just keep that between us, okay?”

“Which part?” I asked as we resumed walking.

“The part where you think I'm attractive.”

“Why, do you not find yourself attractive?”

“Well...”

“Do you not look in a mirror?”

“Yeah...”

“Then you see what I see. You're beautiful,” I stated.

“Harley!” he hissed, laughing nervously. “Don't say shit like that!”

“Why?”

“Because if I do ask her out, I don't want her to say no because she thinks I'm gay!” he laughed.

“Your reasoning is sound,” I replied, and we went to class.

I was disappointed in the result of the conversation, but there was no doubt that Samantha's beauty was greater than my own. I could not fault him for noticing and desiring her. As his friend I hoped that his affections would be returned. At the same time, I mourned the lost opportunity to explore Tim's physical beauty, while being thankful I would continue to experience his presence.

It took him a few days, but Tim happily reported that she had agreed to a Friday date. I was pleased for him, and took pleasure in his smile and joy. Such things were to be cherished, being in such short supply elsewhere.

On Saturday he showed up at the residence, as usual, for a walk down to get hot chocolate. Cass, having improved his standing in the residence, did not beg me to join us but rather appealed directly to Tim. I wasn't entirely thrilled, since I knew my time with Tim was drawing to a close, but Cass could make a friend, perhaps, since he would still be here for the foreseeable future.

Tim seemed amused by Cass, who bubbled with questions. Cass may not have been quite so excited had he known Tim and Samantha were now a couple, but that wasn't my information to give. If he was happier for a bit longer in his ignorance, so be it.

Tim, for his part, was gracious as always. Cass had some money of his own, which he pointedly told me was actually his. Tim again bought my drink, and we sat in the comfortable chairs.

“Tim, can I ask you a question?” Cass asked.

“What's one more, more or less?” Tim smiled.

“Sorry,” Cass replied, some color rising in his cheeks. “I've been wondering, though. You have so many friends at school – how come you spend every Saturday with Harley?”

Tim smiled. “Partly because he's my friend. Partly because travel and contact with him is tough because of where you guys live. I see my other friends during the week, at practice or at games or out at the movies. Harley is a good friend, so it makes sense to set aside time for him.”

“Ugh.” Cass slapped his forehead.

“What was that for?” Tim asked, laughing.

“I'm totally cock-blocking,” Cass said, shaking his head.

“Uh, what?” Tim asked, glancing at me.

“You guys are hanging out, and I'm being the odd one out,” Cass explained.

“Cock-block is usually stopping someone from getting laid,” Tim told Cass, chuckling.

“Well, you guys will go make out after your hot chocolate, right?”

“I think my girlfriend would have a problem with that,” Tim laughed. He looked at me. “What have you been telling this kid?”

“He's drawing his own conclusions from his own infatuation with you and projecting them onto me.”

“Harley!” Cass squeaked.

“Wow. This is not the conversation I pictured,” Tim said with a cough and then chuckled.

“You had no right,” Cass said to me. “That was mean and embarrassing.” I tilted my head.

“Why? Just a few days ago I told Tim I think that he's beautiful, why should you be ashamed to be attracted to him?” I said, puzzled.

“Harley, really?” Cass stood. “That's my business, stuff I get to tell or not tell!” He turned and left, and I didn't try to stop him. I considered his words – the idea of privacy again. This was tricky.

“So,” Tim said, shrugging, “that was an interesting chat.”

“I'm not very good with...personal observations, apparently.” I paused, glanced at Tim. “Do my own observations make you uncomfortable? Is it...inappropriate to say such things?”

“Well, it's not cool to out someone to their crush,” he said with a smile. “Personally, it's good for my ego.”

“Does your ego need boosting? I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, when you're the second best looking twin...” he said.

“Don't be stupid,” I retorted. I sipped my drink, swirled it and drank more deeply.

“You have seen my sister, right?” he asked. “Every guy in that school wants to sleep with her.”

“If they want something disposable, sure. If they wanted a person to speak with and have a relationship with after, they'd be trying to sleep with you.”

“You're pretty blunt, you know that? You could try a little more tact – she is my sister after all.” Tim said, leaning back in his chair.

“It's not in my nature to beat around the bush. I'm sorry if my assessment displeases you, but you are clearly superior to her in every measurable way.”

“Jesus,” he said and covered his mouth as he laughed. “Any time I'm feeling down, I'll just call you.”

“Feel free.”

He laughed harder, and I frowned, wondering what was so funny.

“I've said something funny?” He laughed harder still. I'd have gotten perturbed if it wasn't such a delight to watch him laugh, though I did wish I understood why. He covered his mouth with his hand and tried to control himself. Color had blossomed on his face, and he settled into giggles before simply smiling. I waited.

“I'm not sure how things are where you came from, Harley, but if someone is crushing on someone else, it's up to them to say so.”

“But why? I don't understand the reason.”

“Well, for one it can be embarrassing, and for two, not everyone is cool with gay people.”

“I don't understand.”

“Some people are prejudiced, you know.”

“I see,” I looked down at my empty cup and said, “so he is largely embarrassed because he could have been rejected or you could have been prejudiced.”

“Yes.”

“I owe him an apology.”

“Probably, but I'll talk to him.”

“That's generous of you, just what I'd expect.”

“You're really going to give me a fat head,” he said, standing and zipping his coat to leave.

I did the same, and we left, walking up the street towards the residence. “You didn't say how your date went.”

“Oh, Harley, it was awesome!” he said, his voice rising to improbable heights on the last word, his hands clenched into fists, and he performed a hop that was somewhat childish. “She was so graceful and beautiful. We talked for hours. I'm so glad you told me to go for it!”

“It sounds like it was excellent advice,” I agreed. He continued in this vein, extolling the virtues of Samantha, and I enjoyed his enthusiasm. At last we reached the residence, and he leaned back on the railing.

“So, Harley. When you started school you told the class you didn't want to say where you're from, and I thought you meant the group home. You don't strike me much as a guy that gets embarrassed so...that makes me wonder. Where are you from?”

I studied his face, the inquisitive look one that was not often there. I'd like to tell him something – anything – but I found the truth too dangerous and a lie unpalatable. Instead I merely said, “I'm sorry, I can't. Would you like to speak to Cass, now?”

“If you want. Hey, Harley? I don't mean to pry or anything, but you should be able to share your secrets with your friends.”

“Yes,” I replied and stepped inside and called out to Cass.

Sage

Ascertaining Harley’s path was simple. The area immediately beyond the gates was awash in footprints. They ran in different directions, and several switched back to throw off those in pursuit. I had two advantages. One, the guards boots were different from ours, and I could separate their prints out by the different patterns their soles left in the dirt. Advantage two, Harley had big feet. He was the only soldier in our squad to wear a size 13, and after stopping to eyeball a few sets of tracks, I was confident I was on his trail.

I followed the trail deep into the woods and felt strangely vulnerable. In the past when I’d been allowed out into the woods, it had been with a training officer teaching me the skills I’d need as a scout or on exercises with my squad. This time I was alone. I’d been alone the night of the escape, but I’d been so afraid and so focused on getting away I didn’t have time to ponder my loneliness. If this were a regular mission, I’d be in my uniform, and it would help me to blend into the surroundings. I’d be carrying a rifle and sidearm, but now I only had a knife for protection.

I wasn’t worried about encountering Harley; I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. He’d been my protector for too long. He comforted me as a little boy when I’d cried in the night, he’d saved me from being raped after this psycho from Red Squad beat me, and he’d let me snuggle in his pallet when I needed the comfort of another human being. If anything, I thought he’d be pleased to see me, and that made me feel guilty. I knew I had to find Harley to save our squad mates, but it still didn’t feel right. I tried thinking of him as a target instead of the guy I looked up to as a big brother, and that worked for a while.

Once my initial trepidation wore off, the woods became a fascinating place. This was the first time I’d been in the woods during the daylight, all of my training having been conducted at night to avoid civilians. I’d been taught to identify the wildlife and fauna from books, because a soldier needed to know these things in case he ran out of food and had to live off the land. Now I was seeing the birds, listening to their song and taking in the beauty of the plant life. I was struck by the silence of it all. I lived my life surrounded by the sounds of other boys. I’d never known privacy before.

Occasionally I’d run into civilians and had to steer a wide path around them. I had a cover story – if I came across anyone, I was supposed to tell them I was camping with my family and I was hiking back to them. I remembered what happened to Marge and Rickey and decided the best course of action was to avoid civilians altogether, lest the Corporation hurt them for the simple crime of coming in contact with me.

I tracked Harley by day, and by night I took shelter in the trees. The leaves provided cover, and chances are no one would be walking around the forest at night looking at the canopy above them. There was a rope in my pack, and as the sun set I would climb up to a comfortable branch, then tie the rope around my waist and the tree trunk, so I wouldn’t fall while I slept. Things were going well until my third morning in the woods, when I woke to find myself a prisoner.

I’d woken to the sound of children laughing, and as I surveyed my surroundings I discovered that a family had set up a basecamp right below my tree. There was a blanket spread out near the trunk of the tree, a woman knelt on it and tended a small campfire. I looked around for the source of the laughter that woke me and found the father and two young boys at the edge of the river twenty yards away. I was immediately struck by their appearance.

The older boy was my age, give or take a year, and I judged his little brother to be about twelve. They were the same ages as me and India. The father was teaching his sons how to fish. Every now and then he’d say something funny, the older boy would snicker and the little one would giggle in delight. I looked at them and realized this could have been my life were I not the property of the Corporation.

I couldn’t remember my parents and could only assume the woman I saw in my dreams had been my mother. I couldn’t even remember the name I’d been born to. In that I envied Forest Green, who had gone to his final treatment insisting he was Derek. Derek, all I’d ever known was Sage. Before I knew it a tear was rolling down my cheek, but I quickly sniffled and wiped it away. Whether I liked it or not, I was a soldier on a mission, and soldiers don’t cry.

I tried to think of a way to get back on track, but there was no way to do so without compromising the mission. If this were a regular mission and I found myself surrounded by enemy troops, I’d use the element of surprise and kill them. That was a non-starter from the get go. Not only would it violate my mission objectives by drawing the attention of civil authorities; I could not bring myself to harm innocents. I had no choice but to observe them until they’d caught their limit and returned to their home.

The family began to pack up their catch around noon, and I waited an extra hour after they’d gone just to make sure the coast was clear. I climbed down from the tree and caught Harley’s trail again on the river bank. His prints were partially obscured by those of the father and sons who’d occupied that space an hour before, but there was enough there for me to resume the hunt.

As the sun began to set I reached the edge of the woods and the beginning of a good-sized city. I set up a temporary observation post, donned the night vision goggles from my pack, and watched what turned out to be a parking lot for the next hour. The business appeared to be closed, so I activated the infrared feature of my goggles and quickly reacquired the trail of Harley’s boot prints. The prints came to an end alongside a truck; leading away from the truck there was a second set of prints made by large bare feet.

I realized that Harley must have abandoned his uniform at this point. I’d disposed of my uniform the first night, but as a scout I was more familiar with the methods that would be used to track us and that the dogs would be hot on my scent. I’d come upon a civilian facility the first night; Harley had spent his first days of freedom in the woods. He probably decided to ditch his uniform when he encountered this lot and realized it would stand out too much, draw too much unwanted attention in the civilian world.

I searched for Harley’s discarded uniform, but only briefly. Given the amount of time that had passed since our escape, I was sure the uniform had been discovered. It didn’t matter anyway – Harley wasn’t wearing it, and he was my target, not his socks and underwear.

I resumed my search by following the bare footprints, but as I was traversing the outskirts of the city the going became slower. I stuck close to the sides of buildings to avoid being silhouetted by street lamps. I took my time crossing streets to make sure I wouldn’t be caught by passing cars. The darkness was my ally, given my enhancements, and I could see where civilians couldn’t – stealth was important now. I thought back on the boys I’d encountered my first morning of freedom and how I’d underestimated the threat they presented. I didn’t have time to be involved in a confrontation now.

I followed Harley’s prints over railroad tracks and once again came into contact with the woods. I found a sign identifying these woods as a state park. In order to disappear into the woods I’d have to cross a large open field, so once again I set up an observation post to watch for civilian traffic before proceeding.

I’d been watching the clearing for half an hour when I spotted something odd. There was a strange luminescence coming from some debris just inside the grass line that I thought might be dried blood from the splatter pattern I was seeing. It was only a guess but I decided I had to investigate it.

I knew I’d be vulnerable if I stooped down just inside the clearing, so I took off my goggles, returned them to my pack and secreted them behind a garbage dumpster. I kept low and crept into the clearing. I knelt in the grass and examined the debris with my flashlight. I found broken glass covered in dried blood and bloody footprints leading towards the trees. I was just turning to return to my pack when a bright light flashed in my eyes. Some of the lights flashed red and blue and I realized I’d been discovered by a policeman.

I cursed myself for not detecting the approaching officer. I’d been so engrossed in the discovery of the bloody foot prints I’d allowed him to get the drop on me. If he’d been an enemy soldier I’d likely be lying dead in the grass with a bullet hole just behind my ear. The car came to a stop, and though I was blinded by the light I could hear the door open and close, then the officer’s footsteps crunching on the dead grass. I could have run, but that would have been foolhardy. Innocent people don’t run. If I ran he’d call in backup, and I’d spend the rest of the night, perhaps much of the next day, trying to evade capture.

I was in violation of secondary objective two, avoid contact with civil authorities, but now that the deed was done, the smart move was to try and talk my way out of this situation. As far as the officer knew I was just a kid out for a walk. I hadn’t violated any laws; if I played it cool he had no reason to detain me. The only problem was the Corporation had trained us to eliminate targets, not to be charming and chatty.