by Mia Wolf
“Are you surprised to see me?”
More than you can imagine, you little bastard.
“Not at all,” I say, feigning courage and getting back up. My bones ache from the day’s practice.
“Maya, what are you doing here?” Lee asks, looking around the backyard. I know that what he means is what am I doing in this village so far away from home, but that’s none of his business.
“What would it take for you to leave me alone?”
“Aren’t you afraid that I will rat you out?” he asks. That exact thought has been the single melody that had been running in the back of my mind.
“Here’s what’s going to happen if you do that,” I say, and this time I don’t need to feign anything. “I will find you first and slit your throat for being a snitch, and then I’ll make my move again, find somewhere else that’s out of their reach. It’ll cost you your life. And what will it cost me? A few months, at the most. It’s crazy how much time you can spare when you don’t have to train like a dog for other people’s agendas.”
He remains stone-faced, without a change in his expression, which doesn’t surprise me. If there was anyone who was more loyal to Kai than I was, it was Lee. He wouldn’t rat me out even if he wanted to, but sadly my threat wasn’t empty. I have nothing left to lose any more, so I will eliminate anything that gets in the way of my freedom.
“Maya,” Lee says, with his eyes turning soft like a puppy’s; the eyes I remember trusting more than my life. He’s about to say something, but he bites his tongue as if he already knows the futility of it. He looks around and stares at the house. “Is that where you live?”
“None of your business,” I reply.
“What’s the matter with you?” he says and looks angry, but Lee looking angry is funnier than it is scary, and I chuckle out of habit, which maddens him even more. “I’m glad you still find me funny. Let’s see if you find this funny,” he says and charges at me. I’m not taken aback as years of training have turned me into a warrior that’s always waiting for an attack.
One moment, we’re a safe distance apart, but the next, his leg is coiling around one of mine, ready to pull it like a noose. I see through the attack, though, and jump out of his grip in time. He’s back up on his feet just as quickly and takes a few steps back as he sees me preparing to land a punch that I end up missing. He has been practicing, of course, while I have been on the road running away from the village. He has been toiling, putting in hours of training like I once used to, like Kai once used to.
“You’ve been slacking, Maya,” Lee growls. The sound that’s coming from him is not of a human but a bear. He’s enjoying this more than I am.
“Don’t mock me,” I reply as I duck and swing my leg over the ground. It makes Lee stumble, then fall. I sneer at him, my victory grin surfacing as he gathers dust.
When he stands back up, there’s a fire in his gaze. It must be my eyes fooling me, but he seems a bit taller, his stance lethal like a predator’s.
“Don’t you think you’re making a mistake?” he says and bolts towards me, his hands landing punches at me that I dodge until one hits my jaw. I feel a kick to my side that I fail to block.
I taste blood from that last punch, and my head is spinning from the consecutive hits. I hurtle backward; two, three, five steps until I feel a safe distance away from Lee, who doesn’t feel like the friend I once thought he was. No, he’s different when he’s fighting; a seasoned warrior, just like me. A weapon made to do someone else’s bidding. I want to grab him by the shoulders and jolt him awake. Who are you fighting for, Lee? The people he thinks are his family wouldn’t bat an eyelid before sacrificing him if it served them. This mindless loyalty always evoked a sense of disgust in me, even as a child, when I watched my father do what he was told to do by his father as if the only reason for him to exist was to sacrifice himself for others. As if he wasn’t human enough to live otherwise. I scoff out loud and remember that I’m still in the middle of a fight. Perhaps, that’s the problem. We aren’t human enough.
“Don’t faze out when you’re fighting me, Maya,” Lee screams and motions toward me, taking slow, meandering, lazy steps as if he doesn’t need to stay sharp for an opponent like me. As sad as it sounds, it fires me up. Something about being told that I can’t do a thing makes me want to go for it even more.
So I wait patiently for Lee to make his move then make his first mistake because they always do when they’re cocky. Lee strolls up to me until we’re inches away and then goes for a punch to my gut, which he obviously misses because I’m three steps ahead of him. I let his bad stance make him go careening forward and slip my leg between his. He crashes to the ground again, but I don’t leave him so easily this time. I pull the dagger that’s strapped to my thigh and place it to his throat even before he realizes he’s on the ground.
He laughs when he feels the cold metal touch his skin. My hands are trembling, and Lee enjoys the show.
“You won’t hurt me,” he says with a fool’s confidence.
“I wouldn’t be so sure. And I would shut up if I were you.”
“I’m not here for my own ulterior motives, you know,” he says as if that’s supposed to make me trust him. “Don’t you think you have a responsibility towards your village, Maya? How can you turn your back on your people when they need you?”
Raw anger courses through me, anger that hasn’t seen the light of the day, and that has been festering like a deep cut on my skin. If I hadn’t possessed the self-control that I do, I would’ve killed Lee in an instant, but I think of Kai and about meeting him in the afterlife. I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye if I killed his best friend in cold blood. I remind myself that Lee is a good man; he might not be thinking straight, but he’s a good man. The responsibility he talks of… he doesn’t know what that responsibility has costed me. Hot, searing tears sit at the corner of my eyes as I entertain the thought. That responsibility has taken everything away from me. I’m an orphan because I owed the village my life, my everything. And it took it all away from me like a debt I needed to duly pay. I pull the dagger away before I end up carving out Lee in the name of that same responsibility.
“Go home,” I command and walk away. “And I’ll know if you rat me out. If you love your life, I would suggest you don’t.”
I hear Lee struggling to get up from the ground and to speak, but he doesn’t. I leave him lying on the floor because I can’t bear the sight of him or anyone from the past that I gave up everything to run away from.
I get back into the house and shut the door behind me. I put my back flat against its surface, then sink to the floor and weep. As the floodgates open, it all comes pouring out, bawling tears that I must have kept locked against a dam. I never really cried when my family died, perhaps because I knew that there was no one to comfort me or hold my hand or tell me things will be okay. Of course, things are not okay, nothing is okay. What a sorry little sight I am right now. I let the pain surface. It’s too much, I’m afraid my chest might crack open, but I can’t keep it contained anymore.
The tears trickle down for a long time, and I taste the salt in my mouth, thinking about what Ma would do right now if she saw me cry. She would pick me up and wash my face and clean me up. She would tuck me in warm bedding then gently caress my head until I fall asleep. It’s funny how I still feel her love as I imagine this. I don’t move because everything hurts, but I fall asleep right there with the memory of my mother’s soft touch on my forehead. It brings me the sweetest sleep that I’ve had in years.
Chapter 3 - Sebastian
After ten hours of consistent walking through the woods, I finally arrive at the nearest village. I’m confident that this is a bear village because I see the massive rotunda between the decorations, which can only mean one thing: the winter solstice festival.
The souls of my feet have scabs from walking so much, and the entire time I trudged through the terrain, I was thinking how much easier it would’ve been to tr
avel in my bear form. The village is quiet and calm and reminds me of home even though I’m thousands of miles away from it. The smell of foliage and the river water that isn’t even flowing nearby hits my nose, and I hear the chirping of crickets like the town is abandoned. But at the same time, everything looks so spick and span that it could be a movie set. Cozy wooden houses with cave tops are lining up the slope of the hill on one side of the little valley, and at the other, the hill picks up again beyond the giant rotunda,. It’s a sight to behold. A small part of me desperately wants my target to be in this village. Though, the beauty of the neighborhood isn’t the only reason for that. I’m also quite keen to see this mission end. I didn’t anticipate finding a person by only their last name would prove to be this difficult and, quite frankly, vapid. But work is work, and it’s often not fun to do.
I walk towards the back of the village because I can hear the distant sounds of people talking there. I’m hoping they can give me some information on where I am. I still don’t have a plan on how to find the woman. I have a vague description of what she looks like, her last name, and a family history that isn’t exactly a visual cue and as helpful in tracking someone down as is knowing their browser history. People don’t carry their past in their faces. Though, it’s irrevocably etched onto your skin.
I turn around the corner, following the sounds, and I’m shocked to see who I find.
“What are you doing here?” Warren asks, his eyes enlarged like he’s seen a ghost and his nostrils flaring as soon as he realizes it’s me.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I reply instinctively and swallow saliva. I feel like a fugitive who got caught red-handed.
“Well, I live here so…,” he leaves the sentence hanging then takes a few steps in my direction, shielding the woman he’s with from my field of view. “Your turn, Sebastian.” He punctuates my name with anger, which is quite uncalled for.
“I’m traveling,” I say. It’s a lie, and in the next moment, that dawns on both of us at the same time.
“If you’re here to cause any trouble—”
“Warren, I don’t owe you any answers. Let’s spare each other the discomfort and pretend like we’re strangers, shall we?” I’m ready to walk away, but Warren puts a firm hand on my shoulder and stops me from going. His demeanor softens as do his eyes and he blinks a few times at me before speaking.
“Are you doing better?” he asks as if he cares about me. I yank my shoulder free from his grip and leave without a response.
I meet a stranger up ahead and ask him for directions to the bar, which is always a good place to get information on a place. But the village is more archaic than I thought it would be; they barely have any nightlife. There’s only one measly bar on the edge of the village, and they don’t even serve Smirnoff.
The encounter with Warren brings all kinds of bad feelings to the surface. Why, of all people, did I have to run into him? There are things that I try not to remember when I’m sober, and Warren is the embodiment of all those things. He reminds me of the dark side that I keep buried inside, of the bitterness, the malice, the hunger, and the thirst. It’s funny how none of these are needs of my animal side; they are all needs of my human side. As is the need for breaking something that’s too good to exist. I’m ashamed of my human side, and now I have to deal with all the baggage that comes with it.
The feeling is too strong, and I need alcohol to cope with the dread, so I perch at the bar stool obediently and wait for the sweet embrace of neat vodka.
By the time I’m sufficiently inebriated, I realize that I don’t have a place to stay for the night. If I could, I would stay at the bar overnight, but it doesn't seem likely that they’re open at such ungodly hours. Not that I would trust my judgment right now, but that idea sounds bonkers even for drunk me.
Which leaves a very unappealing option, the only option. I’ll need to go out into the woods and experience the comfort of a sleeping bag once again. My annoyance at the coming night almost, but not quite, drowns my bitterness at running into Warren. I feel myself pushing down all the menacing thoughts that come with Warren, but I’m unsuccessful. If he lives around here, then I might run into him more frequently. The thought ruins my mood even more, and I try to cheer myself up. It’s not certain yet that the woman I’m looking for is here. Though I’ve already traveled across much of the northern mountains and the villages dotting them along the way, there is still the chance that I’ll find her in another mountain village.
Idly, I take my phone and bring up the pdf document that contains the information on the mission. I re-read the last name again as if I had forgotten it. Venne Ford reads the text. I shut down the novel idea of asking the bartender if he knows anyone by that last name. To my drunk self, that plan sounds foolproof. But the only reason why it’s been so difficult to find her is that she’s living by a different last name. Plus, being so public about looking for someone you’re planning to abduct is a rookie mistake. I know because I’ve learned from experience. Not inquiring about your targets publicly is a rule I now solemnly abide by. Keep it under the wraps, or it always comes back to bite you in the ass.
It seems like a Herculean task now that I’m in the thick of it. A female with a particular last name, which she probably has changed to something different to keep her identity hidden. Where do I even begin to untangle this?
Venne Ford. I swallow the name with the next sip of vodka and retreat to the woods for the night, drunk enough to enjoy life and hate it at the same time.
Chapter 4 - Maya
I sink to the wooden floor and sit cross-legged. The surface is warm to the touch. I left the window in the front open to let any traces of sunlight in, but the winter months are approaching now, and the weather remains dull and dreary. I used to like the winter as a kid, but life became too dark to be able to appreciate the gloom of the cold season. Now I feel like I’ve been hungry for the sun for years; the warmth, any warmth, is a welcome sensation. Today, my wish will not be granted as a thick layer of clouds covers the sky.
I feel the chill slipping into the room and wrapping around me. The early morning breeze makes me shiver ever so slightly as I shut my eyes to meditate. I focus on my breath, the slow and erratic inhale and exhale. I try to observe the rise and fall of my chest and smile as I come to the realization that my breathing means that I’m alive. There is a life force in me, the inset beating heart is pulsing every second. How could I not be grateful to have a heart that beats? But then the comfort shifts to uneasiness. I feel a looming worry, a sense of sadness that points to grief, a sense of seeing a life being lost, and still being able to look at your own and appreciate it. Or perhaps it’s that loss that makes you look at all life and understand the impossibility of it; understand how easily it can be taken away, so you better hold onto it tight while it lasts.
The next inhale soothes me like that caress from my mother, a gentle word from my father, a warm embrace from Kai. The exhale empties my lungs, and there’s the echo of a beat in the hollow of my chest. My focus deepens, my body relaxes, and the only sounds around me are of the birds far in the woods as they wake with the morning. Everything is calm until the doorbell rings. I take an exaggerated breath, ignoring the doorbell and hoping to reclaim my concentration, but it rings again. This time, my nostrils flare in annoyance. Whoever it is will go away if I don’t answer, I reason. But the bell rings a third time. I jump out of my meditation posture and open the door to find my neighbors standing there.
“Maya,” Ashley screeches. Her voice is too enthusiastic for me this early in the morning.
I hold the door only slightly ajar, poke my head out, and say nothing. They stare at me, puzzled, and I raise my eyebrows at them to urge them to spit out whatever business they have standing here.
“We were just wondering if you’re doing alright in the neighborhood.” Warren smiles at me and slips his arm around Ashley, who looks at me with a hospitable grin.
Did they really come over this ea
rly in the morning to ask if I’m doing alright in the neighborhood? I swallow the annoyance and nod in agreement.
“That’s good,” Ashley says.
Am I supposed to be their estranged daughter or something? Why are they laying this siege on my doorstep, and when will it end? I cough and raise my eyebrows again, returning the smile that they’re still flashing at me.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask politely, biting the frustration within.
“Oh no, not at all. We just wanted to check up on you before we leave for New York for the week. We’re gone most of the time, so we were wondering if there’s anything we can help you with. We haven’t exactly been great neighbors,” Warren explains.
Would asking them to leave me alone be too rude? Probably.
“I feel pretty comfortable, but thanks for the thought,” I say and shut the door.
Returning to meditation, it takes me a while to weed out all the exasperation and finally center myself enough to focus on my breath. The rhythm of breathing in, then breathing out and breathing in again lulls me into a placid state. I’m calm and composed; the beating of my heart is the only sound again. I’m almost completely in tune with my body when the bell rings again. This time, my eyes pop open instantly, and my legs stomp towards the door, swinging it open with a tiny bit of neurotic rage.
This time, it’s not Warren and Ashley who I find on my doorstep but a different guest.
“Good morning, Maya,” Jessica coos like the birds in the woods. She’s the mate of the village’s Alpha, Joshua. “Food!”
She stands at the door like a bundle of joy, all fun and excitement as if we’ve been best friends for a century. She’s dressed in a white tank top and blue jeans and looks the part of a mother of an infant. My frustration melts as she hands me the hot lunch box she’s brought with her and cranes her neck to peek inside the house.