Free Under His Guard by Rie Warren Page A

of you will have to double up,” Raine said. He mounted his ride as it took the opportunity to spit and bare big square teeth.
    Sebastian seemed to be getting into his element after proving his worth in the Predator. He slapped me on the back. “Just like riding a horse, big guy.”
    I wished to hell Leon would start calling me cher again. No one else would dare call me that for fear of reprisal. Ambling over, Leon let me hoist him onto the blanket-saddle.
    Holding his hand down to me, he grinned. “C’mon, beb .”
    I seated myself behind Leon and ran one arm around his waist. I touched my heels gingerly to the camel’s flanks and we took off at an awkward gait.
    â€œGiddyap!” Leon whooped.
    There was no cover in sight as we galloped away across dusty plain. Or maybe not galloped, but more like bucked. The animal’s coarse hair scratched through the thin fabric of my pants, and I leaned forward to touch my lips to the back of Leon’s neck.
    Half an hour later, he grumbled, “My ass is gettin’ chafed.”
    â€œDon’t worry. I’ll massage it for you later.” I lifted him onto my thighs, cushioning the ride.
    *  *  *
    We rode hard for nearly an hour before an outcropping of squat structures dotted the horizon. The sun had begun to set, sending streaks of orange across the sky and over the sand that shifted like waves on water. Leon had relaxed into my embrace, his hand curled across mine over his stomach. I thought he’d had fallen asleep, but leaning over, I saw his eyes blink heavily.
    â€œWe’re here, baby.”
    â€œAye yi yi yi yi!” Yips went up from inside the village, and Raine returned the call.
    Streams of men, women, and children raced from between the round rustic buildings. Clusters formed around us, people in bright colors, their hair covered from the ever-present sand. Beaded necklaces dripped from their necks, bangles adorning the lengths of their arms. They gestured wildly and welcomed us with grins, taking the reins from our hands. I dismounted first and then helped Leon off, keeping an arm around his waist.
    â€œCome, come. They’ve prepared a feast for our prestigious visitors.” Raine unwrapped the cloth from his hair, shaking his red waves loose.
    Karesh Commune wasn’t protected by boundary walls, fences, or even trees or mountains. Nothing stood between the village and its surrounds. The situation was unsettling. I was more determined than ever to keep a close watch over Leon.
    Domed huts crowded close together in the settlement that stretched as far as the eye could see. There were no roads but winding paths, one of which we followed to a central gathering point. A large tent-like structure opened over a huge fire pit in the middle, roasting meat sizzling from a spit. Rough blankets covered the seared, stubby grass. Cushions were thrown about for comfort, and camels, horses, cattle, and goats roamed in the distance on the plain.
    Raine drew us under the tent. He began introducing us to the villagers awaiting their first look at their cousins from across the Pan-Atlantic Ocean. The Freelander way of life had begun long before the Purge had drastically reduced the world’s population, a two-decade environmental annihilation that ended in the year 2020.
    The back-to-earth movement started with our ancestors seeking a simpler existence not subordinate to the government, which had increased its focus on making war in far lands and money hand over fist. They adhered to the principles of careful balance between tending the earth and everyone’s right to their own ideals.
    The first Freelanders harvested not just the land but also the sprightly minds of their generations, espousing ingenuity in the arts and technology. Each of our communes was linked as one family by a shared hope for a life that wasn’t meted out by strict rules. Our ultimate commonality was hope for a future not suppressed