A Girl Called Badger (Valley of the Sleeping Birds) Read Online Free PDF

three inches from the back of her hand.
    “You’re lucky,” said Wilson. “It’s a short blade and didn’t cut the ligaments. Now wait for a second and don’t move.”
    He looked in one of the tribal packs for clean fabric. A yelp came from Badger and Wilson saw her drop the blood-streaked knife on the ground.
    “What?” she said. “I wasn’t going to walk around like that.”
    Wilson shook his head and sighed. “It doesn’t matter,” he said.
    He wrapped Badger’s hand then grabbed the few sacks of gear lying around the campsite. The girl still shivered under the blanket where he had left her.
    Wilson knelt beside her. “Will you come with us?”
    She looked up with her bruised face and nodded.
    Wilson took the girl by the hand and the three moved as quietly as possible through the forest and back across the stream. His night vision took several minutes to return. The girl with her oversized boots constantly stumbled and Wilson put his arm around her waist.
    They slid inside the underground guard post as the rain splattered and foamed into a wild downpour. The shelter was warm and dry, but they were squeezed as tight as three cats. Badger’s ribs pressed against Wilson’s belly as she breathed in and out, in and out, and the tribal girl squirmed at his shoulder blades. Wilson rested his head on the dirt floor and thought about nasty nocturnal pests in the garden.
    “Something wrong?” asked Badger.
    “Ah ... no,” said Wilson. “I’m just a little hot.”
    “Get some air, then.”
    She brushed her chest against Wilson to move closer to the front opening and that only made it worse.
    Wilson sighed and wondered if the tribal girl was hungry. He took a water-skin and piece of dried meat from his rucksack. The girl chewed on the venison happily and Wilson slid forward to join Badger at the tiny window.
    “Were we followed?”
    Badger shook her head.
    Water dripped from the branches long after the storm had blown through. Wilson knew the half-moon should be out––that was the forecast––but the sky was dark with clouds. The girl shivered under her blankets. Wilson handed the girl his woolen cap and she pulled it down to her ears.
    She spoke, hesitating over the right words. “Stay in here?”
    “Quiet,” whispered Badger. “Dogs.”
    Wilson squeezed next to her with his crossbow but couldn’t see anything. Badger pushed his arm to the right and corrected the aim. Her bow clicked and a dog yelped down the slope. She reloaded and Wilson squinted into the dark. All he could make out were a few shadows moving along the trail. He aimed for the center shadow, held his breath, and pulled the trigger. Whether he’d struck it or not, the dark shape vanished.
    He twisted onto his back in the tight space and held the crossbow firmly in front of him. He put his foot into the rope stirrup at the end of the bow, extended his leg, and pulled hard on the reload strap. The bowstring and curved prod bent back and locked. Wilson squirmed onto his belly and shoved another bolt on the track.
    “They’re following the girl,” murmured Badger. “She’s got a strong smell.” She raised her crossbow and shot a bolt into the yelping dark. “There goes the last one.”
    Wilson rubbed his nose. “I’ll take your word for it.”
    After a quarter of an hour, an owl hooted three times. Badger cupped her hands and copied the call, then slid out of the shelter with Wilson and the girl.
    A team of four hunters led by Badger’s teacher Simpson stood under the dripping branches.
    Simpson shook Wilson’s hand. “What’s the status?”
    “We found a group of tribals with this prisoner.”
    “I see a prisoner, but where are the tribals?”
    Wilson pointed to the trees across the clearing. “Dead. We also shot a few dogs not long ago. Not certain if the pack is still around. But right now, this girl and Airman Chen need medical treatment.”
    “I’m fine,” said Badger.
    “I don’t know anything about