Page 40 of Princess (Marinah and the Apocalypse #5)

Marinah

The warm and humid air was very different from the island. It seemed heavier, and the sun a bit duller.

Landan’s man, Stevens, met us after the semi-chilling landing on an airfield too short for the aircraft.

“Almost” being the key word. Large airports in the U.S.

were destroyed in the very beginning of the war.

Some had been partially cleared, but they were heavily monitored by the Federation.

Our pilots had practiced landing on smaller strips, but it didn’t mean it was safe. I was glad to be on solid land.

Stevens was a burly, hairy mountain of a man who would be at home in one of the old prewar logging camps. His medium-toned skin was covered in a light coat of mud.

“Nice landings,” he said after the third aircraft touched down.

We were standing under a makeshift lean-to that blocked a bit of sun. Shadow Warriors disembarked from the third plane and lined up in their units.

“My men and I want to get back to the outpost,” Stevens said. “We will show you the camp and then leave, if you’re good with that.”

He was looking at me. I lifted my fist with my thumb pointing in Marinah’s direction.

“She makes the decisions.”

Marinah gave me a slight smile. I could have told him what she would say, but he hadn’t looked at her once. It could be a “don’t stare at a Shadow Warrior mate” thing that Landan taught him, or a “no way could a woman be in charge” thing.

“You’re Marinah,” Stevens said and placed his hand out. “I was expecting someone ten feet tall with hands the size of sledgehammers.” He smiled at my mate, and Beast didn’t so much as stir.

“Nice to meet you,” she said. “You’ve given us a chance, and I can’t thank you enough. I’ll send five men with you and your team to check out the camp, if that works.”

“Absolutely,” he replied in his deep, rusty voice. “This is for you. It’s a map of the area, along with other information that might be helpful.” He handed over a brown leather satchel.

“I’ll go with them to see the camp,” I said.

“Choose the other four men,” Marinah replied. “We’ll wait for Nokita. Hopefully he’s not too far behind.”

What she didn’t say was hopefully he made it, but we both knew the danger his mission posed.

Fifteen minutes later, I was tracking through swampland. The mosquitos that buzzed around us must have weighed a pound each. A slight exaggeration, but justifiable. We moved quietly, but couldn’t stop the slaps on skin.

“We were being eaten alive like you are now,” Stevens said. “One of our men covered himself in mud, and it worked.”

I halted the team. “Mud up,” I said and began to slather the brown gunk on my arms, neck, and face.

We set out again, and this time managed to move silently. I’d brought Desmond with me to see if he was as good as he said he was. I shouldn’t have been surprised that the kid moved like a Shadow Warrior. Marinah called him a ninja and I had to agree.

It took two hours to reach the camp and find Stevens’ man who waited for us. Lying on our bellies, in the same brown muck we smeared over ourselves, we got our first look.

The camp sprawled across a large area with the bay on one side and the swamp on another. Where we lay, the dense forest of cypress and tupelo trees rose from the murky water creating an eerie curtain that hid us.

There were a few small watercrafts in the bay but no ships.

A sea of olive fatigues, most without the red shoulder stripes, walked on gravel that had been hastily laid over the damp ground.

The air, thick with perpetual humidity, was choked with the acrid scent of diesel exhaust, soldier sweat, and something similar to dead fish.

Around the land perimeter were semi-trucks, parked bumper-to-bumper, their massive, dark forms creating a makeshift barricade.

They also housed hellhounds, which didn’t need air to breathe and could withstand the hotter-than-hell temps inside the trailers.

The sheer scale of the camp was surprising.

We had half their number of Warriors if Nokita made it back with the other two planes.

Two-man armed patrols moved along the truck perimeter. The camp was a fortress carved out of the bay, but the swamp gave us an advantage.

“Desmond,” I whispered. “See if you can locate the command center. Don’t be seen.”

He nodded and moved away. Sixty seconds later, he melted into the swamp. Twenty minutes he appeared again.

“Dead center,” he whispered. “They have red stripe troops in tents surrounding two buildings with guards stationed at the doors.” He grinned. “It was like a giant ‘X’ marking the spot.”

I couldn’t help grinning back.

We should attack at night and use the swamp to our advantage. The Federation had cleared the land and brought their fighting tactics with them. We had to strike quick, cause havoc, then move out and strike again at another entry point. I would discuss it with Marinah.

We watched for another thirty minutes, then headed back. We needed Nokita and the other two planes waiting at the landing strip.