event one of the other Rogues hears something. Don't look back. I can slip through these woods like a spirit and they'll never catch a whiff of me."
"Thank you for everything." I level my eyes at her. "And I meant what I said before. You're welcome in the city anytime."
Lou nods. "I'll keep that in mind."
We follow her through the undergrowth, steering well clear of the camp's perimeter on our way to the grove where the horses are hidden. When they come into view, Lou hunkers down and studies the guards' movements for a few minutes. When she's satisfied, she selects a tree as her vantage point to shoot from. She scales it silently and efficiently, disappearing into the dark canopy above.
The riders and I creep around to the back of the grove and conceal ourselves behind a cluster of gnarled juniper trunks about thirty feet from the horses. A large chestnut mare, tethered on a short rope to a lodge pole pine, lifts her head and looks in our direction, then nickers and turns away. One of the two Rogues walking the boundary of the grove, throws a disinterested glance our way, then kicks a rock out of his path and continues on.
"Once the guards are down, stick close to me," Jody whispers. "Don't stand behind any of the horses while we're untying them. They'll be stressed and unpredictable."
I nod and settle down to wait, my breathing fast and fluttering. I glance across at the other riders, tense and ready to charge as soon as Lou's arrows find their mark. My heart pumps double time as the minutes go by. The guards make several passes back and forth along the perimeter and still nothing happens. My frustration begins to mount. What's Lou waiting for?
I shift my position and shake out a cramp in my leg. The two Rogues pause and exchange a few words before resuming their patrol. One of them stifles a yawn, and that's when the first arrow hits its target. The Rogue crumples to the ground with a muted bleat that barely reaches our ears. His partner swivels, aims his gun into the shadows, and catches an arrow straight through the heart. He pitches over and rolls down a small ridge into a hollow beyond the grove.
"Now!" Jody says.
Adrenaline spurts through my veins. I leap forward, tailing Jody as she pounds across the clearing toward Condor. He startles, then whinnies excitedly as we converge on the grove. The other horses paw the ground impatiently as the riders' fingers work to unravel the knots.
Jody flings the rope aside, grabs a stick and pole jumps onto Condor's back. "Let's ride!" she yells, extending a hand. She yanks me up behind her with a powerful tug. Before I have time to snake my hands around her waist we're off, veiled in the thick cloud of dust the agitated horses ahead of us are whipping up. We ride like the possessed, ducking beneath branches, weaving between trees, flying over downed logs and granite boulders. Behind us, I hear a cacophony of confusion and shouts, and a burst of gunfire, but it comes too late to stop the horses who seem to have sprouted wings.
In no time at all, we reach the spruce trees where Bandido is tethered. We pull up short and trot over to him, heaving for breath, but euphoric.
"Where's Ida?" Jody asks, looking around at the other riders as they canter into the clearing one by one.
We turn our heads in unison as the last horse limps into view. Behind the distraught rider, Ida's body sways back and forth like a broken reed.
5
J ody leaps down from Condor's back and races over to help the other rider lift Ida from the lame horse. I slide clumsily to the ground and rush to their aid.
"Ida, can you hear me?" Jody pleads, smoothing a hand over her clammy cheek.
Ida groans in response.
"We couldn't ride out of there fast enough," the other rider explains. "She caught a bullet in her thigh."
"We need to get her to the clinic," I say. "We'll have to go back."
Jody knots her brow. "If you want I can send a couple of riders on to the bunkers to warn the Undergrounders."
"No, it's