The additions to the cabin started in earnest the next morning with everyone but Catalina and Miller dragging the heavy logs down to the staging area, using a sled to help them along. The rain had passed with thunderous booms in the night, and the ground had dried out as the sun rushed quickly to warm the late-May air.

Miller started to work on marking cuts needed in the existing structure, the design minimizing the impact to the cabin as it stood then. Catalina helped sew thick curtains which would cover the hole while they worked on the additional rooms.

June rushed in with hot weather, and they sweated as the new additions came together fairly quickly. By the 11th of that month, the work was nearing completion, enough for Miller to proclaim, “we go' this from 'ere, Major. Whenever ya feel ya gotta go, ya go.”

Hitch had admittedly become restless for information about Willow. Miller and he had each spent some time at the radio, but they heard little of immediate interest on the rare times the weak signals made their way deep into the mountains. He couldn't help the growing belief, though, that his daughter was alive.

He took Diego hunting a few times over that period, hoping the young man would be able to go out with Kim-Ly should Miller take ill or otherwise be unable to be out in the bush so long. Diego was still learning his aim, but he killed a couple of large does between several misses, so there was some hope.

He also continued to drill Kieu-Linh on basic tactical movements, impressing upon her how easy it was to get turned around in a fight, how often one could misunderstand enemy movements and suddenly be behind the opponent's lines. He showed her how to plan ambushes and reinforce foxholes, how to flank positions, and how to estimate the distance to parts of the battlefield which might not be visible. He also taught her how to bark or whisper orders, depending on the situation, and how to utilize runners and subordinates in each situation. There was a lot of crawling in the mud involved in all of it.

Hitch had been forming a plan about how to get west, but, like any plans laid out with such uncertainty, it wasn't likely to hold long after they'd departed. He wanted to travel north as fast as possible, his best, albeit outdated, information suggested that the armies fighting for the group out of Chicago which still claimed the United States mantle held much of the grasslands of Kentucky and points north. He thought about all the miles this would force them to go away from the most direct routes, but the benefit was that, if they made it, they had a reasonable chance of moving through friendly territory all the way to Denver, the first place he wanted to reach in their search for his daughter.

He'd discussed using his truck, which was still near the bunker, to move faster, but he knew gasoline would be difficult to come by, and it made them stick out anywhere the truck wasn't recognized. If locals had switched allegiance as Javier had suggested, it made it harder to pass through without drawing attention to themselves.

Of course, humping it over rough terrain was going to take a much longer time. Depending on the weather and how often they have to travel through hostile territory or across treacherous ground, it could easily take a month, even two. And they'd have to resupply en route, there was no chance that they could carry everything they needed, which, at times, would probably mean stopping to hunt.

Hitch worried, though, that the reports of their rifles would bring attention. In the mountains, before he'd chosen his final bunker site, he'd scouted some distance around to be sure he had a small measure of sound protection from those dwelling closest and from major roads. Even though he was certain people had heard him, he had avoided drawing direct attention which led others to investigate the sounds. The same was true for Miller, who knew the surroundings and had shown Hitch where to hunt to keep the sound exposure to a minimum.

Regardless, on June 14th, Kieu-Linh and Hitch stepped off with extended farewells and a lump in the teen's throat. Even with her eagerness, it was harder to leave her parents than it had been when she'd stayed behind with Hitch the winter before. She understood the risks she was taking, that those might be the last moments she ever saw them, the uncertainty of their quest weighing heavily with the knowledge that they might lose their lives along the way.

But she was tough, Hitch's young wife, and once they were past the unmarked bounds of her parents' land, she showed her excitement and confidence once more.

- - -

“Wait here, I just want to take a look,” Hitch whispered, looking down the low hill to the dark house below.

They'd been on the way north for eight days, somewhere near the border between Kentucky and Tennessee. After a small detour around Knoxville when it was clear the Empire had massed forces there, they'd moved mostly due north without issue.

Kieu-Linh said softly, “okay. I'm ready.”

Their food was running low and this was the first chance to seek resupply. While they'd picked a few berries and found nuts to eat, they'd not stopped to hunt, not wanting to risk it in enemy-held territory. Hitch crept down to the backside of the modest house. It wasn't shabby or in ill-repair, though the grass was high and unkempt, a normal sight most everywhere. He could see where some of it had been tamped down as if by repeated foot traffic near the back entrance and around the side. It certainly suggested it was in use.

It was an hour or so before dawn, and it was the time, Hitch hoped, he'd have the best chance of scouting it unseen. He heard nothing after long moments listening, then tested the knob on the back door, which was locked. He eased around the side and found a window slightly ajar, screen in place, curtains fluttering just a bit with the warm breeze. Hitch listened again, but still heard no sign of occupants.

He moved to the front door, and it, too was locked. Hitch had years earlier stopped feeling guilty about stealing food or supplies. Sure, he understood that whoever lived there would have less, but back during The War, it meant his men didn't starve or freeze. They always came first, and now, so did Kieu-Linh.

He slid back to the window which was ajar, listened again, and tried to ease the screen out of its groove. It came free quickly, and he quietly set it aside, slipping his head in. He saw a bed, but there was no one in it, so he gently lifted his body inside and crouched beside the old low dresser nearby.

Still hearing nothing, he went room-by-room, and despite many obvious signs of recent use, no one was inside. He quickly moved to the pantry where he found cases of military field rations, likely of Mexican origin, wads of bandages, and candles. Hitch stuffed the bags he'd brought in with as much food as he could carry, saving room for a handful of candles, pushing bundles of bandages into what room remained. He slipped out of the window just as drunken laughter exploded up the hill.

In the direction he'd left Kieu-Linh.

Hitch shouldered the food and unholstered his M9, listening. He already had three strong, covered positions mapped out in his mind, snapped automatically as he'd come down towards the house. He moved to one quickly and crouched. He heard more laughter, then the sound of a bottle breaking.

Three men strolled down the hill a few dozen meters from where Kieu-Linh should have been waiting, hidden. Between two of them was a thin woman who was smiling and clearly drunk. The way her clothing was disheveled suggested they'd been doing more than drinking.

He waited until they passed below him and went into the house through the back. Hitch raced uphill and found Kieu-Linh a bit nervous but in control. “Let's move!” he said in a harsh whisper.

Despite the darkness, Hitch led the way up a long, gentle slope and down into a gully which ran parallel to the main ridge, then broke west where trees grew thicker near a small creek. It was over an hour later, as dawn began to glow, that they stopped to catch their breath. Hitch peeled open a ration package as Kieu-Linh did the same, and he couldn't help laughing that the Mexican MREs weren't much different than the ones he'd known, the food inside typically ranging from decent to nearly inedible.

Not that that stopped him from eating everything in the pouch and grinning at Kieu-Linh as he did.

- - -

Kieu-Linh spotted the US patrol before Hitch saw them. They had camped alongside an overground field in the night, just outside of Lexington, Kentucky, a place they hoped to discover was still in American hands. From there, they had planned to collect information and, hopefully, start moving west towards Denver. The patrol was a sharp-looking band of eleven men and women wearing green fatigues marching swiftly down a narrow, winding road, trailed by a Jeep with two men inside. The flag patch on their shoulders marked them as possible friendlies.

“What do you want to do?” Kieu-Linh whispered, “they might take us instead of letting us pass through.”

“I know,” Hitch replied quietly, “but at some point soon, we have to gather intelligence. Let's just watch a moment. Keep an eye out for flankers.” He'd been over such concepts with her many times. Just because you didn't see them didn't mean a handful of scouts hadn't moved out to protect the flanks and spot enemy positions before the main body had passed into an ambush.

They crouched silently a while as the patrol headed north and disappeared around the bend. “I think we follow them carefully, let's see where they're heading.” He stood and shouldered his heavy pack.

“Need to pee,” Kieu-Linh declared, dropping her pack then sliding her pants down to her knees with one hand, squatting and pissing freely. She used a rag to wipe through her hairy crotch, then righted her jeans and retrieved the pack. “Okay.”

They'd had no time or energy to make love on the trip, and Hitch was really beginning to miss that intimate contact with his young wife. Each night, they were tired from the travel and didn't want to risk being caught unaware in unknown lands. It had been tempting, to be sure, but they had yet to give in to those desires. He kissed Kieu-Linh quickly, and they moved ahead at a steady, measured pace.

They followed the patrol at a distance for more than an hour before the soldiers slipped through three rings of concertina wire and between a large wall of sandbags. Hitch listened and could hear heavy machinery grinding in the compound which spread out over a large, flattened area, several football fields in size.

“James?” Kieu-Linh prompted him.

“I'll go down. You wait here.”

“What if they don't let you leave...?”

“We discussed that earlier. You wait at Point Beta for a week and go home if I don't show up.”

“I don't like that plan.”

“Me either,” he said, “but we have to find out things we can't learn out here. We need to know what we might have to pass through.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said quietly.

“I'll be back. I love you.”

“You better... and I love you, too, James.”

- - -

He'd left behind the rifle and M4 as well as his pack, slowly striding up the slight rise along the straight paved road, his M9 still tight against his hip. He was a Marine officer, and it would have made him feel unbalanced to remove it. Riflemen spotted him almost immediately and used amplified speakers to instruct him to stop. Hitch did as he was told and waited.

A Jeep approached and stopped fifty meters away, two soldiers stepping out and aiming their rifles at him. “This is a United States military facility,” one man shouted through a megaphone, “this isn't a sanctuary for civilians. If you need assistance, you can seek it at Camp Nelson to the south.”

“I'm a Marine officer, retired. I seek information.”

“Are you armed?”

“Yes, my sidearm,” Hitch replied.

“Slowly unholster your weapon and place it on the ground, then take five steps back.”

Again, Hitch followed instructions despite how uncomfortable it made him to set the M9 on the pavement.

There was a pause, then the soldiers holding rifles on him advanced to within a few yards and stopped again. Another man moved to the side. “I'm Captain Patterson of the United States Marine Corps. Identify yourself, Sir.”

“Major James Hitchens, formerly of 2-2-Bravo.”

“What brings you here, Major?”

Hitch couldn't help chuckling despite the rifles aimed at his chest. “It's a long story. I need information. I'm trying to get west to join up with a Brigade fighting there. I have come up from near Asheville through Imp territory.”

Patterson approached him and reached out a hand, “welcome, Major. I'm sure you understand why we'll need to be certain you are not a threat here.”

“Of course.”

He was patted down and one of the men took his M9. “I'd like that back before I leave,” Hitch told the Marine who glared at him before sticking it inside the Jeep.

“Where'd you serve, Major?” the Captain asked as he walked behind and to the left of Hitch.

“Mead, the Colorado fights, Tulsa... before that fell apart, then I went bush with some of my men and fought in the mountains south of here for a few years.”

“Impressive. I was in Tulsa almost three years ago, briefly. Nobody there anymore, Imps not even paying attention to it.”

“So they've withdrawn south?”

“Not exactly. Not enough troops to cover everywhere, so they pulled back to the oil and gas fields in Oklahoma and Texas, still holding on to the Colorado, Florida, hell, most of the Gulf States.” The man paused, then asked, “how long have you... been away, Major?”

“Six years since I left the fight and went to ground. I've only had bits and pieces since then.”

“Not much has changed, I suppose,” Patterson stated evenly, “other than the flare up in the west, we've been status quo since '29. The Imps don't move north, and we rarely probe them anymore.”

They stepped through the opening in the wire and passed into the compound. The Captain walked ahead of Hitch and led the way, saying, “follow me, Major.”

He was taken inside a small, portable building near the center and sat at a small table while Patterson disappeared. There was nothing on the walls, nothing to give him any sign of useful information.

The door opened and two women and a man walked in. “Major Hitchens,” the first woman said, dark eyes hard and steady, “I'm Colonel Simpkins. What can we do for you?”

“I just need information, really. I'm making my way west, trying to meet up with the Denver Patriots or one of the Free American forces fighting out there. I don't know what I'm facing along the way.”

Simpkins glowered a moment, then spit, “the Free Americans can go to hell, Major.”

He didn't respond, long practice teaching him to avoid confrontation unless it was useful. He'd learned that the hard way when he was demoted before Third Colorado. “Ma'am?” he said instead.

“Captain Patterson tells me you've been out of touch for a few years. Maybe you missed that the Free Americans have taken to calling themselves the United States, even threatening the real United States with their air power. I have no use for those traitorous cunts.”

Hitch was silent again, finally saying calmly, “I'm trying to find my daughter. I thought she was dead around Chelan in the early days, but I've learned of a woman with my last name and matching her description fighting with the Denver brigade. Please... I just need to know where I can pass through your territory and where I'm risking Imps.”

The Colonel stared at him fiercely. “Captain Patterson,” she shouted, the man appearing as if waiting for her cue. “Check out Major Hitchens' story. If he checks out, you may give him information.” With that, the woman spun on her heels and left the room through the door, the others following her as well, including the Captain.

Hitch was again left alone in the dull, lifeless room.

- - -

It took almost two hours before Hitch heard movement at the door. He'd managed to stay awake, thinking about Kieu-Linh and Willow, making plans and contingencies based around what he thought were the most likely things he would hear from the Captain.

“Sorry, Major, it took some time, but your story checks out all right. Sorry the Corps has lost your experience. You have a long and stellar record behind you.”

“Mostly...”

The man nodded, “just so.” He unfolded a map of North America on the table and sat down with a pencil in hand. “What do you need, Major?”

“Give me it from the top. Where do things stand now?”

Patterson leaned back and said, “not much has changed since '27, '28. Fighting is heavy out west in the last year or so, some pushback against the Imps on the east coast. Northeasterners are going about their lives as if the whole thing's settled. The Russo-Cine conflict bubbles and then stalls. There's been talk of that finally ending this Summer. We'll see.”

“Any peace talks here?”

“Always, but the Free Americans won't deal, and we're not interested in settling for less than what this country was before, though, admittedly, it seems rather myopic to keep up that front. There aren't enough troops to push back militarily against the Imps, and all sides know that. But they don't have any gas left in their tank. They've been stalling talks for some reason. No one is clear why.”

Hitch nodded, taking in the information. “I need to get to Denver. I don't want to risk Imps along the way.”

“Gonna have to go general on this, Major. The lines aren't always clearly defined, anyway. Here,” he said, pointing his pencil towards the map. “If you stay north of this line,” Patterson continued, drawing a mark across the former US states to the west, “you should be fine. Can't promise you'll get a reception along the way, but you'll stay away from Imp nests.” He paused and looked at Hitch a moment, “you alone, Major?”

“For now,” he kept Kieu-Linh's presence to himself, “until I find my daughter.”

“What'd you say her name was?”

“Willow Hitchens. I thought she died while I was fighting the Colorado, but I have reason to believe she is alive and working with the Denver brigade in combat out west.”

“Hitchens... Hitchens... Hmmm. Can't say that name means anything to me. Grunt?”

“Not sure. Rumor is she was an officer, but I don't know.”

Patterson nodded, the man's face showing tight lines of his middling age. “Well... I wish you well, Major. You've got a long walk ahead of you. Assuming you're not traveling mobile?”

“No,” Hitch shook his head, “couldn't chance it coming up from the south, but if you have wheels to spare...”

Patterson let out a dry chuckle, “I'm sure you know better than that, Major.”

“Of course.”

“Well, good luck. Anything else the Marine Corps can do for you, Sir?”

“I wouldn't turn down a few supplies if you can spare them.”

“I'll see what I can do. What do you need?”

- - -

Hitch made his way back to the point at which he'd left Kieu-Linh but didn't find her. He'd retrieved his M9 before leaving, and hauled a pack with rations, a rasher of cured bacon, and the map Patterson had used. It took a moment to find Kieu-Linh's message scratched on a small, mossy rock. She was heading north and west, following a dirt road for no more than three miles, where she'd wait for a couple of days. Hitch had taught her the coded marks as part of her training, and it came in handy in cases such as this one.

He hefted the small pack and humped quickly in the direction she'd indicated.

He located her an hour later, the girl concealed perfectly on the high ground of a mounded, abandoned field, covered behind an old shed which looked in danger of falling over if the wind blew just right. She greeted him with open arms, and he quickly explained what he'd learned. They set off immediately to make use of what remained of the day's light.

Hitch hoped that Captain Patterson's advice was solid. He had no way of knowing how exact his intelligence was as to the lines, or what were called lines in The War. It didn't surprise him to find out that the Imps had stalled out. They'd extended their push beyond what their troop levels could support, and it was only because so many seasoned veterans had been killed or wounded over the years that there wasn't a strong force capable of pushing them back over the Rio Grande and into the Gulf. On some level, Hitch thought, it would be best if all sides would just accept the new borders and put away their arms long enough to salvage whatever remained.

Population centers to the south had long ago been abandoned by American civilians who headed north. Many of the cities and towns had been absorbed into the Empire and grown full again as many poor people from Mexico and further south had settled in and gotten comfortable. Hitch wondered if those people were really any different than the ones they'd replaced.

- - -

Kieu-Linh and Hitch settled into a rhythm that the Major realized started to feel like work. It took effort and will and he had to draw strength from Kieu-Linh's companionship and uncanny optimism which helped him drive on towards their goal. He was starting to feel much older than he had been even weeks before. He didn't recover as quickly from sprains or pulled muscles. They lost two days around Kansas City, Missouri, when he'd misstepped climbing a rail fence and twisted his ankle.

Even when they'd been working on the cabin additions, weeks earlier, the laborious task had been a pleasure. Nights had found him sore and tired, but each morning he tended to feel refreshed and ready to take on more.

After weeks of travel, Hitch had to admit to himself that he wasn't getting any younger, and his ability to endure extended labors had clearly been diminished.

And he still hadn't made love with Kieu-Linh over that time. She'd asked him to, several times, but even in the still of night, when they had a moment to rest, he found himself unable to perform, even when he tried to will himself to grow hard. She never showed the disappointment Hitch was certain she had to be feeling. He offered to make her feel good, but she would always smile and say that she just wanted him to hold her tight. It made him feel less and less like a man.

They'd managed to avoid any serious setbacks along the way, never encountering Imps, and getting help from homes where they'd stopped and asked to spend the night. People were generally friendly, not as wary as those further south, having never had to see Imp soldiers gunning down their neighbors. In many ways, it felt very surreal, stopping by a farmhouse and being ushered inside for a hot meal and a soft bed. Some gave long looks at Kieu-Linh's youth when he told them she was his wife, but the hump had aged her, as well, and it made her look more mature than her years would suggest.

That aging did nothing to diminish her beauty in Hitch's eyes. If anything, it made her more lovely, her curves becoming more defined, her breasts growing to mounds which now fit firmly in his hands. Her face had weathered after weeks of grime and bush-living, and, in many ways, Hitch liked the way her strong features and her dark eyes took on a more polished and confident appearance. She was taller, still, and it was only as they passed through Hays, Kansas, that he realized she was just an inch or so shorter than he was. Her muscles had tones, both lean and dense, her butt still soft in the right places, but solid and powerful as well.

In all the ways that the girl had made him feel young again, the trip west had cut him back down to reality. While Kieu-Linh was still blossoming and maturing in front of his eyes, his own body was starting to rebel and complain and he hated to think about what that meant for the future.

They had paused on August 19th along a dirt road in western Kansas which was bordered by active fields of wheat and other grains. They were already behind the more conservative two-month time frame he'd hoped would be sufficient to reach Denver. How he had ever thought they might be there in one, he didn't know. Part of it was his inability to keep the pace they'd set at the beginning, the long march wearing him down. He felt thin and weak too often. While Hitch tried not to show it, Kieu-Linh eyed him with concern as they sought shade in a culvert to get out of the scorching Summer sun.

“James... you've been really quiet the last few days... what's the matter?”

He shook his head and said nothing.

“Don't do this to me... please... you promised you wouldn't withdraw... Talk to me...”

“I just... feel old, Linh. This hump... I can't keep up like I used to. I can't stand not having the energy to make another mile or two each day, to not have the energy to make love to you...”

“I'm tired, too...”

“But you're still outpacing me the whole way. I know you hang back so that I don't notice, but I do. I can't stop thinking about what all this means for you and me...”

“What do you mean?” she asked, concerned.

“I'm almost forty years older than you, Linh... you can't have not noticed...”

“Well, of course I did...”

“And that means I'm going to be gone one day, perhaps sooner than later after all this.”

“James,” Kieu-Linh said sliding her hand to his leg, “I know that... Of course I want you to be with me forever, but... Mom and I talked about that... I know that might happen... Why is this bothering you now?”

“Because... I... I feel old now... I didn't before we left. I felt... young then. Now... I mean, look,” he said, holding out his hand, his fingers shaking ever-so-slightly. “I can't control that sometimes. And it will only get worse. I will just be an old man by the time we go home. If we go home.”

“Stop it, James,” she said firmly, crouching in front of him and forcing him to look into her serious but beautiful eyes. “Stop this. I won't stand for it. Right now, you and I are on a quest, and it's hard and it's long, and we're getting closer. I won't stand for you feeling sorry for yourself. It makes me hurt for you, and I know, I know you think it means you're going to die and leave me behind, but right now, I'm here, and you're here, and... Dammit! I won't let you wallow in pity, again. Dammit, Marine,” she all but shouted, “buck up, think about what a wonderful bond we have right now, you and me, and let's get down this road and into Denver.”

Hitch stared at her a moment, never hearing her speak to him, or anyone, quite that way before. His smile spread before he was even aware of it. “Always right, aren't you? How do you know how to tell me just what I need to hear.” He kissed her deeply, not caring that sweat and grit had slid in with his tongue. He wanted to hold her tight and never let her go. Before he knew it, her hips were straddling his as she slid them down onto the bank of the dry ditch below.

He'd grown hard unexpectedly, and Kieu-Linh didn't miss it. Her pants slid down and his penis was inside her sticky, sweaty vagina in seconds. She moaned loudly, his cock pulsing inside her body, pulsing and tensing quickly. Kieu-Linh locked eyes with him and started to cum quickly, drooling slippery cream down his shaft.

Hitch arched and cried out, weeks of being unable to grow erect leaving him heaving and straining against her body, rising up to let her draw him deep into her pussy, deep into her wet young hole. She rode him steadily, moaning as Hitch started to unload inside her fertile pussy. He had no thought of pulling out. He had to be inside her then, had to feel every inch of her vagina around him as thick, boiling cum erupted from his cock and overflowed her quickly, flowing out around his shaft to drool onto his groin.

She only stopped moving, many minutes later, when his penis finally began to soften. Kieu-Linh smiled as she leaned down to kiss him, his cock pulling free from her body and globs of hot cum sliding down over his balls. “Mmm... I love you, James... I love you so much...”

“Thank you,” he said, out of breath but feeling good for the first time in weeks, “and I love you... I'm sorry...”

“Don't apologize,” Kieu-Linh told him, “never apologize for telling me the truth... We're nearly there, James... we'll find your daughter soon.” She looked up at the sun high overhead. “Should we sleep for a while and travel by night? This heat is making me sticky and hot.”

“Hmm... and here I thought that was me making you feel that way.”

She giggled, her dark eyes sparkling as she swept a finger through her creamy slit and drew it to her lips. “Mmm... you did just that... and I loved it.”

James "Hitch" Hitchens, Male, 50

	- US Marine Corps and Turtletown Patriot officer, veteran of The War

	- 6'0, 180lbs, tanned beige skin, cropped brown hair

Kieu-Linh Miller, Female, 16

	- Daughter of Miller and Kim-Ly

	- 5'10 - 5'11, 150lbs, cinnamon skin, shoulder-length silky black hair

Jefferson Miller, Male, early-60s

	- US Marine Corp Sergeant, veteran of The War, Father of Kieu-Linh, husband of Kim-Ly

	- 6'2, 195lbs, tanned pale skin, white unkempt hair

Kim-Ly Miller, Female, mid-30s

	- Mother of Kieu-Linh, wife of Miller, veteran of The War

	- 5'9, 150lbs, cinnamon skin, shoulder-length black hair

Diego, Male, 14

	- Boyfriend of Catalina

	- 5'8, 130lbs, rich brown skin, unkempt dark-brown hair with bangs

Catalina, Female, 14

	- Girlfriend of Diego, pregnant

	- 5'7, 125lbs, mocha-brown skin, long straight dark-brown hair