Aaron’s cheeks are streaked with color. Lowering his head, he doesn’t answer. But I see it. I see it in his face. I need to hear him. I need to hear him say the words.
“Did you plan the attack in the forest? In the village where I was taken?” I enunciate each word, insisting on a reply.
Still, Aaron says nothing. He simply keeps his head dipped, his cheeks deepening in color. Whether it’s shame or not, I have no way of knowing. All I am certain of is the anger that swells inside of me.
“My family was murdered. I watched them die,” I growl.
Nothing. Aaron says nothing.
“Look at me!” I demand. “I watched my father die. Watched my mother die.” My voice cracks with emotion. “Family. Friends. All of the people I’ve known my whole life.” I swallow hard, willing my voice to not falter again. “Do you want to know how the Urthman killed my mother? Or should I start with my father?” My words are pure acid. Sorrow merging with rage creates a dangerous combination.
“I’m sorry,” Aaron finally says. “I was ordered to plan it. Plan all the attacks.”
“That’s not an excuse!” I shout. “It doesn’t make it right! You had orders,” I spit the words. “My mother…the woman who gave me life, the woman who wouldn’t eat until everyone else in her family was fed and then took scraps to make sure the best was left for all of us, the woman who stayed up all night to watch over me when I was sick…was bludgeoned to death like an animal!” My mind spins. Images of my mother, of every kind act, detail of her face, of her life, rush to the forefront of my brain and swirl in lopsided circles. Aaron hasn’t the vaguest idea what it means to have a mother. The sacrifices a mother makes for her children. For her family. The unconditional love and fierce devotion she offers. He doesn’t know. But it doesn’t temper the rage I feel at the moment. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes. In a softer voice, I ask, “Why? Why’d they need you to plan the attacks? Why couldn’t they do it themselves?”
“We planned where they’d hide at night to stay safe from the creatures, what supplies they needed—”
My eyes open and my head whips around. I glare at him. “All they needed to wipe out a village! My village! My family!” I grind my molars hard. “They sure needed you! They’re too stupid to do it themselves.” I make a pfft sound. “My family’s dead.” My voice is little more than a hoarse whisper when I say, “You did your job well.”
“I suppose I did,” Aaron whispers. “I’m so sorry.”
As much as I want to continue lashing out at him, I realize there isn’t a point in doing so. It will not bring my family back and for what it’s worth, I believe Aaron regrets what he’s done on some level. In the last hours, he’s learned that everything he believed, everything he thought was true, was a lie. His role in life was a lie. And while he and some others suspected as much, it had yet to be proven. It’s been proven now. I decide to turn our conversation away from what he’s done and how it’s affected me to the present. I fill my lungs with air, inhaling through my nose, and blow out slowly through my lips. The act calms me somewhat. “So, there aren’t any human camps that haven’t been raided?” I ask.
“Not at this time,” Aaron replies quietly.
“That’s not entirely true,” a male voice from the rear sounds.
I turn in my seat to see who’s spoken. One of the bred humans, a man about my age, makes his way toward the front of the vehicle. Shorter than Aaron and myself, his hair is pitch black. Ruddy skin is fair in tone but mottled with pink splotches. His almond-shaped eyes appear as dark as his hair. He blinks repeatedly, so much so I feel compelled to mirror what he does to avoid nervously shouting at him to knock it off.
Aaron lifts up and looks into the rearview mirror. “What’re you talking about, Jonah?”
Jonah pauses, looks at his clasped hands that rest on his belly then speaks. His voice is soft. “There’s thought to be a village about two hundred miles north of here in the Black Forest.” He blinks rapidly, still with his chin tucked to his chest and his gaze locked on his hands.
“Since when? I’ve heard nothing of this,” Aaron says.
Jonah clears his throat. “It was brought to me yesterday for review. I believe its existence is highly likely.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Aaron asks.
Jonah’s demeanor resembles a child being chastised. His soft-spoken nature is softened further. “I’m sorry. I assumed you knew. I spent the day yesterday reviewing the intel and determined it was likely.”
“How many live there?”
“It is undetermined,” Jonah replies apologetically.
Aaron furrows his brow. “Jonah, where’d this information come from?”
Jonah rocks from his heels to the balls of his feet. He stops the incessant blinking for the time being. “A human was captured not far from the edge of the woods scavenging for supplies. A male.”
I lean forward, waiting for more.
“What did he tell them? What’d he tell the Urthmen?” Aaron asks with every ounce of urgency I feel.
“He said there’s a village deep in the Black Forest.” Jonah’s words, spoken so quietly and meekly I have to lean close to hear, raise every fine hair on my body.
“What else? Did he say more?” Aaron asks.
Jonah’s eyes dart from Aaron to me. “He lost his life during the interrogation. Before more information could be obtained.”
Lost his life during the interrogation. Translation: he was tortured for information and didn’t hold out long enough to give them everything they needed. Had any one of my cousins, brothers or sister been captured, it could have been them who was tortured and killed. And for what? To raid our village and kill us all? Take our young and throw them in an arena to fight to the death for the sick pleasure of an Urthmen audience? The Urthmen are a horrid species. All of it disgusts me. What Aaron and Jonah have done disgusts me. I hope somewhere in their brainwashed minds there lies a conscience. One that is disgusted by what they’ve done, as well. “Do you think you could find the village?” I ask.
“If it exists at all,” Aaron adds.
Jonah looks at Aaron when he says, “I’ve narrowed it down to a three-hundred yard radius where I believe it should be. If it’s there, I can find it.”
“Well that’s our plan then,” Aaron says. “We really don’t have any other options, other than driving aimlessly until we run out of fuel.”
“We have to travel on foot once we reach the forest,” Jonah says.
“What about the Night Lurkers?” I ask. “How would we survive the night?”
“The what?” Aaron’s brows gather. Jonah looks at me quizzically, too.
Taken aback that despite all their research and attack plans they’ve never encountered one or factored one in, or else they wouldn’t ask, I fill them in. “They’re creatures that come out when it’s dark,” I start.
“Oh the Wolvens!” Aarons says as though he finally understands.
“Wolvens aren’t indigenous to the area surrounding the Black Forest,” Jonah says flatly.
“Indige-what?” I feel my face scrunching in confusion.
“They aren’t indigenous, meaning they don’t live in that area,” Aaron clarifies.
“Really? I can’t imagine why. I thought they lived in all forests,” I say and call to mind everything I’ve learned.
“It’s quite an anomaly,” Jonah says. “I don’t understand why. For some reason, none have been spotted for hundreds of miles around the Black Forest.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” I shake my head and rack my brain. It’s impossible to envision a forest without the looming threat of Night Lurkers, or Wolvens, as Jonah and Aaron call them. They were what kept us in immediate fear of or lives. Not Urthmen. Once upon a time, Urthmen seemed an obscure enemy. Sure, we were all told stories since we were small children. But Night Lurkers were the imminent threat. They were what prompted high walls to be built. They were what quickened our paces and puls
es when we saw the sun hanging low in the sky. I can’t imagine how much better and how peaceful our lives would have been without them. Those humans who live in the village we’re headed to, the ones who enjoy a forest free of Night Lurkers, and now free of bred humans plotting their whereabouts and planning attacks against them, are luckier than I could ever be. I hope such a place exists and can’t wait to meet them.
“No, it doesn’t make sense. It’s the same climate. The same plants and trees grow there. Everything is the same.” Jonah shakes his head. He seems genuinely perplexed. “But it’s a fact. The Wolvens are not in the area.” He shrugs.
“It’s true,” Aaron concurs.
“Huh,” I say and don’t pursue it further. Frankly, I’m too excited about what I’m dreaming is an idyllic safe haven. I turn to the folks in the rear of the vehicle. In our haste to leave and flee the Urthmen and then the explosion, I didn’t check on everyone. “Is anyone injured?” I ask.
The word “no” ripples through the fifteen who survived. We’ve lost more than half of the group we left with. Apart from small cuts, scratches and bruises, though, no one appears wounded. “Good.” I see that Reyna sits beside Ara. Ara rests her head on Reyna’s shoulder. I can’t explain why, but seeing it causes a strange flutter in my chest. Pike chats with Kai, who points animatedly to a scar on his right forearm, undoubtedly regaling my brother in how he got it. I position myself so that I’m facing forward once again. When I do, a thought comes to mind. “Aaron, won’t the Urthmen send other vehicles after us?”
“This one and the ones either destroyed or badly damaged by the blast are the only ones they kept in the garage. The others were shipped to Ostenteria.”
“Ostenteria?” I ask.
“It is the largest Urthman city on the planet. It’s where the king resides and is a place like nothing you could ever imagine in your wildest dreams,” Aaron says.
“Really? I have a pretty good imagination,” I joke and picture buildings that graze the cloud and flashing lights of every color.
“Really,” he replies with a wry smile. “You’ll really have to trust me on this one. It’s…something else, a place of excess and overload.” He shakes his head. “They even throw away food they don’t like there.”
“What?” Reyna’s voice is at my ear. I turn and am struck by her arresting, ice-blue eyes. “That’s just madness.” She huffs. “How many live there?”
“Millions,” Aaron answers.
“Millions of Urthmen live together?” Reyna shudders. I don’t blame her. It sounds like a nightmare incarnate.
“Yes,” Aaron says.
“It’s quite the spectacle,” Jonah adds. “Food is mass produced and readily available. There’s an entertainment district. Fresh water running through building and homes…”
“All because of work we have done and work our predecessors have done,” Aaron adds but without pride this time.
“I was about to ask how they could manage to create a city like that and function on that level when they can’t even find and scout a site where humans live without help from humans,” I say.
Aaron laughs. It’s a bitter laugh devoid of mirth. With each moment that passes, he’s seeing more and more how completely he was used. “All that they have, all that makes that city run, was developed by us, the people who worked at the Task Center. We took what humans built and designed centuries ago and modeled their work. We remodeled. We improved it. None of it originated with Urthmen.”
“Makes sense,” Reyna says. “They can barely tie their bootlaces without asking for human help much less build a city.”
“Oh no. That’s where you’re wrong.” Jonah’s soft voice interjects.
“What?” Reyna’s gaze is glacial when she trains it on Jonah. Withered by it, he recoils.
“Please don’t misunderstand. They can build it. They’re pretty good at following directions. They can lay pipes, carry heavy objects, put down cinderblocks. The grunt work. It’s the thinking part of it all, the planning and organizing aspect of everything that they fail miserably at.” Jonah shifts uncomfortably as Reyna continues to stare at him. What lies beyond her frosty eyes is a mystery, not only to Jonah, but to me as well. Part of me thinks she looks poised to slit his throat while the other part thinks she may agree and thump him on the back cordially. Right now, it look like it could go either way. In fact, it isn’t until a small laugh slips past her lips then she folds her arms across her chest and shakes her head that I realize Jonah will live to see another day. I breathe a silent sigh of relief. His knowledge is necessary to us finding the human village I now see in my head as a utopian society. I want to get to it. As soon as possible, I want to see a group of human beings living in safety, free of Night Lurkers and the potential threat of Urthmen invasion. It reminds me peace can exist, that it’s not just a dream. It reminds me of home.
Thoughts of home float through my head, intangible and ephemeral as clouds on a bright summer day. Reyna places a hand on my shoulder. Her touch is so light and so brief, I turn toward her to be sure it’s not a figment of my imagination. All I see are flaxen locks, mid-air for just a second as she turns to walk back to her seat at the rear of the vehicle. It happened. But she is gone. In the wake of her touch I feel chill wisps lingering, tracing a pattern down the length of my arm like icy fingertips. It’s a strange and pleasant phenomenon. I wish I could keep it, wish it would stay long enough to lull me to sleep. At least for a little while. But all too quickly, it’s a memory. Reyna is gone. Jonah returns to his seat. I’m left with Aaron, and an expansive stretch of roadway. I sit in silence. My thoughts vacillate between the Urthmen city I’ve been made aware of, and home. The home I knew is gone forever. The people that made it as such killed, struck down by Urthmen with a plan mapped out in part by the man beside me. They created homes—an entire city—for the Urthmen. I picture Ostenteria, a place where the gluttony of the arena stands looks mild by comparison. I picture male and female Urthmen resembling Prince Cadogan, faces distorted by alterations, bodies swathed in too-small fabric in garish colors. Anger collides with pangs of grief. Too many emotions contend with each other. The feeling is overwhelming. I lean my head back and breathe, closing my eyes silently.
I don’t know how much time has passed when my eyes open. The sun has carved a slow arc through the sky. I startle.
“We’re almost out of fuel.” Aaron’s voice rises above the steady hum of the engine. “Fuel is the stuff that keeps the vehicle moving, what it runs on,” he adds and assumes I don’t know.
“I know,” I say a bit snippier than intended. In a more neutral tone, I say, “How far away from the camp are we?”
“Not far,” he answers. “We’d probably make it but we’d be better off hiding this truck off the road and getting rid of any trace of the tracks. This way, if the Urthmen get a vehicle and follow us, they won’t be able to trail us. They’ll think we kept going north.”
“That makes sense.” I nod in agreement. “We’re going to need to find food, too.” I try to run through all that needs to be done in preparation for our trek through the forest. “Is the hunting any good in the area?” I ask.
“I would imagine so,” Aaron answers. “Without the Wolvens to limit game, it makes sense that the forest will be teeming with animals to hunt.”
I bob my head and watch as he guides the vehicle off the road to a place where there’s an opening wide enough to fit between two trees. Aaron and I exit, followed by the rest of our group. “The tire marks need to be smoothed as best we can. We need to cover our tracks. Just in case we’re followed,” I tell them. Without hesitation, the fifteen survivors that include my brother, sister, Reyna and Kai, set about kicking loose dirt over the impressions our tires have made. After the tracks are covered, we grab fallen branches and twigs from the surrounding area and cover the truck as much as we can so that it’s not obvious from the roadway. It’s far enough from the road that it’s hard to see without the branches. With them, it should
blend well. I look at our work then scan the faces of those with me. “Are we ready?” I ask.
My question is answered with nods of assent, as well as mumbled words that sound like “yes”.
I turn to Jonah. “Lead the way,” I sweep my hand out to usher him forward.
He takes a tentative step forward and looks at me. Up until now, he’s exuded confidence in his belief that a human village exists. At the moment, he doesn’t look so sure. “I hope I’m right about this,” he says.
His words send my heart, and much of the hope I’ve harbored in the last few hours, plummeting to my feet. “I do, too,” I think. While escaping the arena and the Urthmen was necessary, we cannot wander the forest. Our vehicle is almost depleted of fuel. All we have left is…us. Our lives, at this point, depend on finding that human village.
Chapter 10
The forest is alive with sounds as we walk. Chirps. Scurrying. Caws. The rustle of leaves. All of it is familiar to me. Though it feels like an eternity since I’ve walked in the woods, I feel at home here. I grew up in the forest. Learned and played and hunted with my brothers and sisters under a canopy of treetops. It was all we ever knew. The memory of it aches. It makes me think of Kohl. He should be here now. He should be walking next to me. I know I’m not alone in feeling this way when I look beside me and see Pike and Ara. Both bear sad expressions. I reach out and place a hand on Pike’s shoulder. I give it a gentle squeeze. He turns his head toward me and smiles tightly. Unspoken words are exchanged. We will do this. We’ll find the human camp and survive, not just for ourselves, but for Kohl, too. He’d have wanted this. We will honor his life by living. We continue along without mention of it, but we know. Kohl is with us in our hearts. He’ll always be.
The Black Forest Page 9