Chapter 5

Hawk stood on the shoulder of East Cliff Drive and looked across a lagoon toward a row of eucalyptus trees that edged the murky water. Behind him, across the road, Twin Lakes State Beach was packed with people. The sun seemed to draw them out like lemmings, but unfortunately, instead of throwing themselves off of cliffs, the damn wachees spread out towels and blankets, and swarmed around until darkness chased them home again.

Idiots.

Hawk kept his back to them and tried to ignore the increasing numbers of ducks and geese that waddled out of the lagoon toward him in search of a handout. The damn wachees fed them all the time, so they thronged the area getting fat on junk food. One particularly inquisitive duck approached too closely and Hawk kicked it, sending it flapping and backpedaling, but as soon as it was out of reach of his feet it settled down again.

Fat, lazy thing.

It reminded Hawk of the people across the road. They were just as complacent, just as sure that nothing would interfere with their self-serving, hedonistic lives. He would never understand how idiots like them ended up on top of the food chain.

He scanned the tall row of eucalyptus trees, their unnaturally regular spacing increasing his irritation. Wachees had obviously planted them, most likely as a windbreak or to mark a boundary. No naturally occurring trees would be lined up like that. Hawk squinted up at them. Just as he'd told that wachee girl Stan was dragging around the forest yesterday; eucalyptus trees were like weeds - you had to get rid of them before they took over.

Cassie.

He'd been avoiding the thought of her. How odd that she had turned up here in Santa Cruz. Not that he would have recognized her if it wasn't for Stan. He'd never really paid much attention to her back in New York - not unless she was mauling some poor defenseless tree. What a pain in the ass she'd been back then. What a pain in the ass she was bound to be now. He glanced up the road to check on his lookout man. Towhee was loitering at the corner of East Cliff and Seventh Avenue. He caught Hawk's eye and nodded.

The damn duck was sidling towards him again. Hawk kicked a spray of gravel at it, and turned back toward the trees. The girl was already causing trouble. Ever since yesterday, Stan had been acting like a lovesick puppy, so lost in his thoughts he was impossible to talk to. In the past, Hawk wouldn't have had any sympathy for his friend. He'd never once been tempted by a wachee girl, himself; he'd never even touched one. That had all changed yesterday when Cassie had sprinted hell for leather straight toward Jay as he was confronting the Australian terrorist. He had acted without thinking then, sprinting after her. When he'd caught her, he'd picked her right off the ground and held her until Stan caught up to them. That had been the easy part; she was too small to offer any real resistance. The difficult part was trying to get the feel of her out of his mind. So far it had proved impossible. She had been soft and warm beneath his hands, her curves all too evident as he'd wrapped his arms around her waist. Even her cheek had felt feminine under the hand he'd placed over her mouth, and her lips had burned against his fingers in a way that had kept him awake half the night.

A normal enough reaction, Hawk knew, but it wasn't normal for him. Unlike the other men in the battalion, he'd followed the rules and stayed away from the wachee women. It hadn't bothered him before - denying your desires was part of being a warrior. It made you strong. It taught you control. Today, though...desire was getting the better of him, and the more he tried to concentrate on the task he'd been set, the more his mind recalled the way Cassie felt as she wriggled against him. She had been frightened then, but before that, when they'd first met, she'd looked at him differently; the way a wachee woman looks when she wants you to notice her.

The way women look at Jay, he thought with a rush of satisfaction. Then he straightened, ashamed of himself. Since when had flaunting the traditions of his people become a source of pride? He was nothing like Jay and he never would be. Still, he wouldn't mind having twenty minutes alone with the girl.



He shook the thought out of his head and considered the eucalyptus trees again. There were houses within thirty feet of them. How on earth was he to accomplish the job without being seen? Normally he would wait until nighttime to make his move, but Jay was on a rampage and wanted it done now. The daylight attack was meant to garner attention - but not from the wachees.

Hawk looked over his shoulder toward Towhee again and frowned as two girls in sundresses and flip-flops wandered up to the youth and started a conversation. Even from this distance Hawk could tell they were flirting with him. Towhee grinned down at them. He seemed completely comfortable talking to the wachee girls, as if he'd done it many times before, Hawk thought darkly. He glared at his lookout until Towhee seemed to feel the weight of his gaze, and when he looked up Hawk made a slicing motion across his neck and jerked his head to the side. He hoped the message was clear: get rid of them. Towhee shrugged and turned back to the girls, bending closer to catch something one of them said.

Hawk felt his chest tighten. He was the ranking officer here; was Towhee going to ignore a direct order? Towhee caught his eye and made a face. He said something to the girls, who both turned toward him. Hawk's cheeks reddened at this flagrant violation of the rules; they were supposed to keep a low profile, not advertise their existance. It was hard enough keeping a standing army a secret in this town.

Just when he'd decided to march over there and give Towhee a thorough dressing down, the girls walked away. They crossed the road and headed toward the beach. One of them tossed her hair and the movement reminded him of Cassie, the way her dark curls had tumbled down when Jay released the clip that held them at the nape of her neck. With a growl of annoyance, Hawk spun on his heel and strode toward Towhee. Might as well get this over with now.

Towhee straightened when he saw Hawk coming. "Hey - what's up?"

"You know what's up. I'm depending on you to keep watch for me. This job is hard enough without you getting distracted and flirting with every girl that walks by."

"Two girls. I flirted with two girls in the hour and a half I've been standing here."

"That's two too many."

"Oh, come off it, Hawk."

Hawk stepped in closer. "Come off it? Is that all you've got to say?"

"What do you want me to say?" Towhee held his ground.

"How about, 'Yes, Sir?'"

The youth's eyes blazed. "You're going to pull rank on me? For talking to a couple of girls?"

"You're not just talking to a couple of girls; you're putting all of us in danger." Hawk knew he was blowing it by pushing the point. The men already thought he was a complete ass.

"You honestly think the wachees don't know we're here?"

Towhee's question made Hawk squirm uncomfortably. "I hope they don't."

Towhee dropped his gaze. "Either way, we're not going to be able to hide much longer. Not with Jay running raids in broad daylight."

Hawk nodded slowly, some of his anger draining away. "I'm with you there."

Towhee hesitated, then relaxed his stance. "Sorry, Hawk. I'll keep my eye on the ball from now on."

Hawk nodded. "Let's get this done."

"Do you have a plan?"




Damn. Towhee would ask that, and of course he didn't have a plan; not yet. The moment stretched out uncomfortably, but Hawk was saved from looking like a total failure when a teenage boy rushed up to them.

"Hey!" he cried. "You two are part of it, aren't you? You're those eco-warriors!"

Hawk stiffened. A glance told him Towhee was just as mystified.

"Claire! Get over here! Look - I told you they were. Look at their clothes." A redheaded girl in capris and a halter top ambled over, sucking on a popsicle. She looked Hawk and Towhee up and down. "Charlie, you are so full of shit. They're just kids working for the parks department."

"Uh-uh! Look at their shirts - they've got no patches."

Hawk looked down at his clothes, more confused than ever. He was dressed in the Authority's normal uniform, which wasn't much of a uniform at all. The kid was right; they wore no insignia - just khaki pants and plain cotton t-shirts. Steel-toed workboots protected their feet. There was nothing at all to give them away, but the wachee kept talking.

"Look at the material; theirs are authentic."

The girl was looking back and forth, first at Hawk and Towhee, then at Charlie. "Yeah, you're right. Hey, where'd you get that shirt?" she asked Hawk.

Hawk took a step back, completely baffled by the conversation.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Charlie pressed on.

He had the sun-bleached hair Hawk associated with surfers, but he wasn't wearing swim trunks. In fact...with a sinking stomach, Hawk realized the teenager was dressed just like he was; khaki pants, cotton shirt. He even wore a pair of workboots. But they weren't standard issue.

"Where'd you get your shirt?" he snarled back at Charlie.

"O'Neil's," Charlie answered eagerly. "See?" He pulled at his neckline and showed them the tag. "Santa Cruz Backwoods Mafia brand. I paid seventy-five bucks for it, but it's not nearly as good as yours."

Seventy-five dollars? For a non-standard issue standard issue t-shirt? Hawk shook his head. What was wrong with these wachees?

"So how do you join up? Everyone's dying to, you know. Protecting the forest; kicking people's butts if they hurt the environment."

Hawk couldn't seem to make his voice work and Towhee stepped in. "Fuck off, runt," he said and gave the boy a push. The teenager just laughed and came at them again.

"Come on, man. I won't tell anyone."

"Back the fuck off!"

People all around them turned and stared. Charlie looked crestfallen for a moment, but then he smiled again and lifted his right hand up in a military salute.

"Yes, Sir!" He turned to go.

Clair trotted after Charlie, saying, "What jerks! I can't believe what that guy said to you. You should've..."

"Who cares what he said?" Charlie answered her excitedly. "They were the real thing, Clair! Just wait until I tell..."

Hawk lost them in the crowd. He rubbed a hand over his chin and tried to take in what had just happened. Towhee looked grim.

"It's worse than I thought."
"What the hell was that kid talking about?" Hawk asked him. "Why was he dressed like us?"

"He was trying to be cool," Towhee said slowly, as if he was figuring it out as he spoke. "We're the latest fad, I guess."

"They're not supposed to know we exist!"

"I don't think they know everything," Towhee said. "They just know something's out there - something they can't be a part of. It's like one of us turning up the cuffs of our pants because we wish we were part of the garrison up north."

Towhee's point hit a little too close to home; Hawk had only tried turning up his cuffs once - just to see what it had looked like - but of course someone had barged into the barracks just then and he had never been able to live it down. As if all the rest of them didn't hope to be promoted up north where the real power was.

"Dressing up like us is the closest they can get to joining us, I guess," Towhee went on.

"Let's get this job done and get back to the woods," Hawk said.



He felt as if every eye was upon him as he made his way back toward the lagoon. He might as well not even try to hide what he was up to, Hawk thought angrily. He should just come back with a blowtorch and burn the whole row of trees in front of everyone.

"Hawk?"

His shoulderblades tightened at the sound of the familiar voice. This couldn't be happening. Not now. He turned around and spotted the girl crossing the street toward him. She had a yellow backpack slung over one shoulder and - Lord of Light - she was wearing one of those bikinis the wachee girls all wore. Hawk hardly had time to pull himself together before she was close enough to see the way he was gawking at her. With a herculean effort, he forced his face into a blank expression.

"It is you," she said, and there it was again - that direct, wide-eyed stare that pierced through all his training and played havoc with his defenses. She was so alien, so different from the women of his own people, who would never dream of stepping out of doors without being covered head to toe. Almost every inch of Cassie's pale skin was visible and she was standing so close to him he could see each individual eyelash as she dropped her gaze shyly and then looked up at him again. Suddenly the tradition of veiling women made more sense to Hawk than it ever had before. How could a man be expected to get anything done when a girl looked at him like that?

"What are you doing here?" The words came out much harsher than he'd intended.

Cassie shrugged her shoulders. "I just came down to...hang out."

Hang out. What a wachee thing to do. They spent their whole lives killing time as if they had an endless supply of it.

"I was heading home," Cassie went on, "but I don't have to go. If you wanted to...I don't know."

Hawk saw Towhee watching them with his arms crossed. He was shaking his head slowly, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. Great. Just great. Now everyone in camp will know about this and I'll get even less respect from the men. Hawk took Cassie's arm, kicked a path through the waterfowl that were already congregating around them, and pulled her along the edge of the water until they were sheltered from view among the eucalyptus trees.

"What...where are we going?" she asked.

"I'll get in trouble if I'm caught with you," he growled.

When they stopped, she asked, "Where's Stan? Is he here, too?"

"No," he snapped, then shook his head. "No," he repeated in a softer voice. "Stan's back at...in the woods today." He knew he ought to let go of her now, but he found he was reluctant to do so. He kept his hand on her wrist and she didn't pull away. She kept looking up at him with that wide-eyed stare, waiting for something, he thought. But for what? What did she want him to do?

"What...what are you doing here?" he asked again, immediately cursing his stupidity. Come on, Hawk, you're repeating yourself. Get it together.

She laughed at him. "I just told you," she said. "I came to hang out. I don't know anyone in town except for you and Stan, and I didn't have your phone number or anything, so..."

She shrugged, but Hawk wasn't listening to her anymore. All he could think about was the reception he was bound to get when they returned to camp and Towhee blabbed his news everywhere. The other soldiers would whisper and snigger at him, and Jay - Hawk clenched his jaw - Jay would be on him like stink on a skunk.



Fuck it, Hawk thought, looking down at the girl. If he was going to pay the price, he might as well have the fun. He trailed his hand up her arm and she stiffened, but didn't resist, so just like Jay had done the day before, he unclasped the clip that held her hair and it swung down around her shoulders in thick, dark curls. Moving a step closer, he dropped his hand down to rest on the fascinating curve where her waist met her hips. He pulled her closer. What would Jay do next? Get her talking, Hawk thought.

"Did you go for a swim?" he made himself ask.

"Not really, um..." Cassie seemed to be having trouble speaking as their bodies connected.

His hand drifted to the small of her back. Her skin was warm and smooth, but as good as she felt - as marvellous as she felt pressed along the length of him - it wasn't nearly enough. Now that he'd gotten started, he didn't want to stop.

"Hawk, what are you..." he vaguely heard her say as he backed her up against a tree. Forget talking; he was ready to try something else. He leaned in closer and slid his fingertips under the waistband of her bikini.

She shoved him away hard. "Stop it!"

Hawk rocked back, shocked at her reaction. What had he done wrong? Wachee girls always wanted it; everyone knew that. Or was he wrong about that, too, the way he seemed to be wrong about everything these days?

Cassie's face was white and there were tears in her eyes, as if he'd done something awful. Hawk's heart plunged into his stomach; she hadn't pushed Jay away when he'd put the moves on her. Was that what this was about? Did she prefer Jay to him? That washed-up bully was more than twice her age. He straightened up to his full height and glared down at her, summoning the same expression that Jay adopted when one of the soldiers had done something particularly stupid. It seemed to work; Cassie pressed back against the tree, her eyes round with fear.

"Wh-what?" she faltered.

"Look at you," he said, pouring all the acid fury of his frustration into his words, "dressing like that. Flaunting yourself. And your hair." He twisted his fingers around a strand of her beautiful curls and gave it a derisive tug.

"Ow! Stop it!" she cried, trying to push his hand away.

Not so superior now, was she? Hawk caught her wrist easily and twisted it until she flinched. "You look ridiculous," he said. "Cover yourself up."

He let her go and walked away.



Thick rolls of fog swirled inland as Cassie made her way home. She choked back her tears, hearing Hawk's words over and over again in her head: Cover up; you look ridiculous. He had made his point brilliantly, pretending to be attracted to her just long enough that she had believed it and let down her guard. How stupid she was to think that someone like Hawk might be interested in her. He was much too handsome. Way out of her league. And he'd read her like a book, knowing she would follow him in among the trees. Knowing she'd let him take her hand. She'd wanted him to touch her. She'd wanted to feel his arms around her again. For one amazing moment, she thought he was going to ask her out on a date.

Of course he hadn't; guys like him didn't date girls like her. They ignored them, or if they gave them any attention at all, it was because they assumed that girls like her - plain girls - would be an easy conquest. A hot tear ran down her face and she rubbed it away angrily. She wasn't a prude. She wasn't. She just wasn't ready for...what Hawk obviously wanted.

She walked faster, shivering as the fog obscured the sun and the temperature dipped. She had thought that being ignored was the worst thing that could happen, but that was before Hawk had looked at her as though she was utterly repugnant. Why would he even touch her if he felt that way? She had no answers and no one to ask, either. She couldn't talk to her mother about such things. Lisa? Forget it, Cassie thought. It was out of the question.

By the time she reached Lisa's house she was shaking so hard she could barely open the front door.

"It's the sunburn. You got scorched," Lisa said curtly, handing her a tube of aloe lotion.

Her mother was sleeping again and she didn't even stir when Cassie tip-toed into her room and placed a burning hand on her cheek. Cassie went to her own room, spread the cream on her fiery red skin and changed into the warmest sweatpants she could find.

She ate dinner in silence across from Lisa at the kitchen table, too discouraged to even try to make conversation. Afterwards, Lisa sent her into the den to watch television, following her there when the dishes were done. Cassie ignored the blaring voices on the screen, her thoughts returning to the beach. When Hawk had run his hand down her back she had felt his touch all the way to her toes, and when he'd pulled her in tight....

Cassie shut her eyes. She'd never known something could feel that good. If only he'd stopped there.

But of course he'd kept going, and when she stopped him he'd been so angry. Had she hurt his feelings? Was that why he'd been so mean? Did all the other girls say yes?

Was she abnormal in this, too?

"Schwan's Lagoon?" Lisa said loudly. She reached for the remote control and turned up the sound on the television set. "That's right where you were today. Did you notice anything strange?"

Cassie looked at the television. Lisa was right; she recognized the scene. A news reporter stood in front of the lagoon where she'd met Hawk. The ducks and geese were gone, replaced by a row of fire trucks. The camera panned in closer and Cassie sucked in her breath; the eucalyptus trees had been burned to the ground.