The sun is low in the sky. I can’t help but feel an edge of fear creep into my core as we move further and further from our vehicle and the roadway. I lived in the woods. I was taught to fear what hunts when the sun sets. I’ve seen Night Lurkers. The image of their massive jaws and large, pointed teeth is imbedded in my mind. I know what they do. Know they feed on any creature that moves. A human group of fifteen such as ours would be a feast. Though Jonah has assured us they aren’t in this area, I still can’t relax.
At our feet is a bed of pine needles. The ground slopes down. Nothing steep, but noticeable enough. I don’t like valleys. I prefer to be in a higher, hilly area, where I can see potential enemies approach. I feel more vulnerable here. That sense of vulnerability is worsened when Kai’s voice echoes. “Quiet everyone! Stop!” he says.
Each of us stops. I clutch my gun close to my body and freeze. Waiting. Watching. Listening.
“Do you hear that?” Kai asks.
I strain my ears, hearing nothing unusual at first. But after a few moments, I hear it, too. Excitement steals through me. Water! I hear the rush of it washing over rocks, and the thirst I’ve been desperately trying to ignore burgeons. None of us has had a drop of water to drink since we were locked in the Urthmen cells. Even then water was scarce. “Water,” I say. My throat burns for it.
“Yes,” Kai says. A smile lights his face and dances in his eyes. “Let’s go.”
Without hesitation, we move toward the sound, walking briskly at first, then jogging. Through low-growing brush and over vines that snake along the ground, the farther we go, the louder the rush of water grows until finally, I see it. Vines and growth gives way to dirt and rocks. Beyond the dirt and rocks is a stream. Kai rushes toward it. I follow, along with everyone else. I don’t even bother to remove my boots. I step out onto the rocks and lower my hands. Crisp, clear water greets me. I scoop a handful and sip, delighting in how it relieves the blaze in my throat as I swallow. Xan and Micah lower their faces, foregoing use of their hands, and gulp, while Pike and Ara do as I do. Kai, Aaron and Jonah wade out to their knees and sit, splashing it on themselves as they drink. Reyna follows them. She drinks then dunks her head. When she lifts it, she smooths her hair back. Beads of water glisten on her skin in the sunlight. She is beautiful, and smiling as I’ve never seen her smile before. Pike and Ara are smiling, too. Everyone smiles, in fact. I simply stare, soaking it in, listening to the chatter and feeling warmth diffuse my chest. Suddenly, a splash of cold water hits my face. I’m snapped from my trace-like state and turn to see Reyna, grinning mischievously. She laughs. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her laugh before. I like the sound. “What was that for?” I ask.
“You were zoning out,” she says with an even wider smile.
I lower my head, staring down as though annoyed then, with both hands, I slap a generous handful of water back at her. She squeals and giggles. The sound causes a weird flutter in my stomach. So I keep doing it. And she keeps laughing, firing back and soaking my shirt. Before long, Ara joins in. Then Pike. Kai, refusing to be left out of the mix, sends a deluge of water my way before shifting his attention to Pike, Ara and Reyna. Laughter erupts all around me. The sound is joy. The sound is freedom. I haven’t seen my brother or sister this light and happy in quite some time. The sight and sound of it fills me with warmth. It fills me with an odd peace. I realize we aren’t safe. That at any given moment this can be taken from us, but we have it now. I will fight for these moments. I’ll die for them to continue.
After a while of sipping from the stream and playing, we return to the rocky bank to dry for a moment before we have to resume our search for the human camp.
“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” I ask Jonah as I sit on a flat rock warmed by the sun and heat of the day.
“I think so,” he replies.
I was hoping for a more definitive answer but Jonah doesn’t have one.
“If there’s even anything out here,” Aaron says and reinforces my worry.
No one says anything. But his comment garners several concerned looks. The mood of our group, buoyant seconds earlier, transforms. Smiles are replaced by lips pressed to hard lines. Laughter and banter is replaced by silence.
“We should get moving,” Kai says.
Our group assembles and we hike until dusk settles upon the forest. Hours of walking have left Ara and Pike, as well as the entire group, drained. We’ve reached the outskirts of a field. I have no idea what lies beyond it and no intention of finding out today. Micah, Xan, Kai, Reyna, Aaron, Jonah, Pike, Ara, and everyone else with us looks as though another step will be cause for them to collapse. “We should stop here and rest for the night,” I say. No one objects. In fact, sighs of relief echo. Accustomed to sleeping on the stone floors of the cells, those with us who resided in the Urthman village as captives just lie on the grass. The bred humans, however, look among each other, momentarily horrified by the accommodations—or lack thereof—before dropping to the ground and following suit. Not long after lying down, the majority of them fall asleep. I lie down with my arms folded behind my head. As far as I can tell, everyone has fallen out.
I look next to me. Pike and Ara sleep. I’m grateful they can rest. I wish I could. But try as I may, sleep refuses to find me. I toss and turn. The events of the day replay in my mind. My body yearns for rest, for some semblance of peace. My family is safe at the moment. Reyna, Kai and the others. Everyone is safe. That, combined with the fact that I’m physically exhausted, should be enough. But it’s not. Nerves plague me. The culmination of all that’s happened since we were taken from our village is a ceaseless narrative in my brain. Its message is clear. It’s a lesson of life as I’ve come to know it, and that is that safety is fleeting. Everything is fleeting. Everything we see, touch, taste. All that surrounds us. All we can do is cling to the moments we share with those we love. They can be taken from us in the space of a breath. A sea of faces stream by, the faces of those whose lives were struck down the day my village was stormed. Friends, cousins, aunts and uncles. My mother and father. Hazy and evanescent, I see them. So many. Then I think of all those lost and Kohl’s face fills my mind’s eye. Not one among them woke and thought it was his or her last day. Not one. But it was. A chill passes through me. I feel the need to check on the last of my living family members.
I lift up onto my elbows and look to Ara. The sight of her makes me smile. She sleeps, golden ringlets fanned out all around her head, her lips slightly parted. Her breaths are even, her features relaxed. The calm she exudes is enviable. On her other side, Pike sleeps, as well. Rolled onto his left with his knees bent, he faces her with his arms folded across his chest. He snores softly. If she were awake to see him and hear him, she’d tease him for sure. He’s pretended to live in denial of his snoring. Kohl and I used to give him a hard time about it, mimic him even, but Pike said we were making it up. But I’m sure he knew. I’m sure he knows. A sad smile lifts one corner of my mouth as I think about how much fun the three of us used to have. My brothers and I shared a hut. We shared just about everything. We watched over our “baby” sister, much to her chagrin. Now Pike and I still watch over her, though that part of her that we babied is long gone. Now she fights for her life. We all do. I shake my head slightly and try to lie down once again. I stare straight ahead, to the heavens above. Stars dot an endless navy expanse and a round fat moon shines brightly. It’s just risen and looks larger, closer than normal. I gaze at the sky for quite some time before I roll to one side and sit up. My limbs are heavy, but inside me something buzzes and hums like a hive of bees. That’s the only way I can describe it. No matter how hard I try to sleep, I can’t. Giving up, I stand. I grab my gun and walk between the sleeping bodies, making my way to a towering pine that edges a clearing. The clearing is very small. Tall grasses grow, the green reeds and purple wildflowers blanched a stony hue by the moonlight. A faint breeze stirs them. I lean against the trunk and slide down, sitting with my back against the rough ba
rk. I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them, focusing on the night sounds of the forest. It’s strange to hear any at all. I’m used to a forest inhabited by Night Lurkers when the sun sets. Then, any creatures with the smallest shred of survival instinct are still. Not here, though. Not now. This place is alive with occasional hoots and shuffles. It’s missing the panicked silence I’m accustomed to when darkness falls. I’m equal parts lulled and unsettled by it. Instead of focusing on the infrequent scurry and rustle, I allow my eyes to roam the landscape. I study it. Ahead lies a meadow. Willowy stems with purple and yellow-tipped buds dominate the grassy area, swaying in the gentle wind. Tall trees, some with barbed leaves and others with full, flat leaves, surround the field. To my left is a hill. The incline isn’t steep. It’s a gradual one that Jonah said leads to rougher terrain. Terrain we won’t explore. The heat and humidity of the day has diminished. The air feels far cooler, fresher. I inhale deeply, breathing in the crisp air. The familiar scents. Fallen leaves. Earth. Wood. Flowers. All are ingrained in my memory. All of them combined are the smell of home. Inexplicably, my throat constricts.
A loud rustle to my right demands my attention. Within seconds I’m on my feet and the tightness in my throat spreads throughout every muscle in my body. I grab my gun, eyes sweeping left then right. I hear it again. From my right. I loop around the tree trunk, concealing myself. I poke my head out, hearing the sound grow closer. All I can think is that the sound is close to the camp, dangerously close. I strain to see a shadow, movement, anything. But all I hear is advancing footsteps. I pull my head back and ready myself to come out from behind the trunk. One foot slides out first. Then I turn my body and square off, finger poised on the trigger and certain I have little ammunition left. I spring from concealment.
“Don’t shoot!” Reyna says. Her hands are at chest-height, palms facing me. “It’s only me.”
Lowering my weapon immediately, I exhale loudly. “Jeez, Reyna, I was ready to shoot.”
“I can see that.” Reyna looks at the gun. The muzzle points to the ground. “Glad you didn’t shoot me.” She offers a half smile.
“Uh, me, too,” I mumble and drop my gaze. I kick at a tuft of weedy growth, feeling my cheeks warm.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” she asks. “We have a lot more walking tomorrow. You should be resting like everyone else.”
“Uh, yeah I should.” I clear my throat and cringe. Why do I sound like such a moron every time I speak to her?
“Then why aren’t you?” she asks in a tone that’s unfamiliar to me. It’s a cross between snippy and sing-song-y. Confusing is more like it.
“Um, well, I, uh,” I stammer and feel my cheeks blaze. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Couldn’t sleep? After everything that happened today? The arena, the breakout, trekking through the woods…I’m surprised you didn’t fall asleep the moment your head hit the dirt,” she says in the same perplexing tone. A part of me wants to ask her whether she’s mad at me. I don’t, though. I’m kind of afraid of the answer. Not sure why, though. But the idea of her being angry with me seems unbearable.
“Nope.” I shake my head. “I tried.” Shrugging, I offer a lopsided grin. “I’m physically tired. But my insides feel like, I don’t know, they feel charged.” I swallow hard. My face feels so uncomfortably warm my eyes start to burn. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” I think I merely said the words in my head then realize I’m wrong when she replies.
“I do! I know exactly what you’re talking about!” Reyna reaches out and touches my forearm, her fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps in their absence.
“You do?” I barely manage the words. My voice cracks with excitement.
“I really do! That’s what I feel like tonight, too.” Her eyes are wide and she briefly rises up onto her toes before lowering again. I find the act adorable. “My insides feel kind of like the air does before a thunderstorm. Like there was a buzz to them. Or a charge, like you said.” She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Anyway, I couldn’t sleep. My mind was racing. Just thinking and thinking.”
“I get it. Same thing happened to me. Forget about my insides buzzing, my brain wouldn’t turn off.” I shake my head. “I’d close my eyes and everything that’s happened since the Urthmen invaded my village would be there waiting for me. Then I tried just looking at the sky.” I point to the stars. “No luck there either.”
“Too pretty. I get it.” She nods in agreement. “Bright moon. Sparkly stars. Too pretty to focus on sleep.”
“Yes!” I agree. A small voice in my head adds, “Like you! You’re too pretty I can’t focus on anything when I’m with you. I can’t even speak without sounding like an idiot!” Thankfully, my mouth refuses to comply and refrains from uttering the words. If it hadn’t, I don’t know what I’d have done. I’d have never been able to face her again. I’m suddenly aware that too much time has passed since I agreed about the moon and stars being too distracting and have to resume the conversation. Not easy when I’m feeling parched and tongue-tied. “So, yeah, the moon and the stars were no help,” I fumble. “So I decided to take a walk.”
“I know.” Blue eyes, turned an even more ethereal shade in the moonlight, lock on me.
“You know?” I ask. “H-how?”
“I saw you,” she replies.
“You saw me?” Why do I keep echoing everything she says as a question? It’s maddening! I’m perfectly capable of talking to just about anyone. But with her, I trip all over my words and sound like a slobbering beast.
“I watched you. I watched you toss and turn then get up and come out here.” One brow quirks.
“You,” I start to echo her again then stop myself, “did?”
“Mmm-hmm. Figured you might need some company.” She bobs one shoulder then tilts her head to one side, her lips curved upward prettily.
“Oh,” is the only word that comes out of my mouth. My heartbeat is suddenly pronounced. It beats so hard I worry she sees it, which doesn’t exactly help matters.
“Would you rather I go?” she asks.
“No!” I respond immediately, and perhaps a little too adamantly. “I mean, no, not unless you want to go.” I silently scream at myself for even presenting the idea of her leaving when I want nothing more than for her to stay. “You know, if you’re tired and want to sleep or something.” I continue digging my hole of stupidity deeper and deeper with every sentence I speak. I clear my throat and resume working the tuft of weeds with my foot.
“Nah, I’m not ready to go back. Couldn’t fall asleep before, remember?” she reminds me, and my heart sinks that that’s the only reason she stays. My eyes fall to the ground, to where my boot kicks the weeds. “Why would I bother trying now?”
“I guess it’d be a waste to try now,” I agree quietly.
“It would be. I’m sure. Besides, I’d rather stay here.” My ears prick up at her words. I lift my head. My gaze follows and collides with hers. I’m entranced by her mesmeric stare.
“You would?” I persist with my stupidity that repeats what she’s said only as a question.
“Yep,” she nods. “I would.”
“Okay.” I clear my throat. “Wanna sit?” I gesture to the area at the base of the pine I sat against just before I heard her footsteps.
“Sure.” She sits to the right of it. I return to my spot.
We sit in silence for several moments, looking out onto the meadow. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The stars. The moonlight and how it shines on the flowers and grass.”
“Yeah. It really is,” she agrees. “And it’s cooled down a lot.” She pauses and turns her face toward me, though her eyes are not on me. They watch treetops that stir. “I like the way the grass moves when the breeze blows like it does now.” Her gaze moves from the trees to the tall grass. “I like the way it kind of ripples through everything, the grass and flowers.”
“Me, too.” I watch as the wind bends the reeds, revealing a lighter shad
e on the underside as they lean. “The moon’s bright. Makes everything look…different.”
“Like we’re in a completely different forest than we were a few hours ago,” she adds.
“Yeah,” is all she says. I sneak a look at Reyna. Flaxen hair adopts a silvery hue and her blue eyes glow more brilliantly in the eerie light. Her face is serene, lovey. I want to tell her as much. I even inhale and try to muster the courage. But my courage falters when her brows gather and her eyes narrow. She purses her lips. Perfectly shaped and pink, they’re as expressive as the rest of her features. Her features harden. “Lucas,” she says my name and sounds pained, but refuses to turn and face me. “Thank you.” Her voice is tight, her words clipped.
“For what?” I ask. I stare at her profile, as if doing so will divulge an answer sooner than she chooses.
Her head whips around. She drills me with piercing, ethereal eyes. The wind picks up, sweeping her hair off her face and I am so nervous I hold my breath. “For saving my life.”
I freeze. The words stun me. We’re out in the open. Vulnerable. Far from safe. Her life hasn’t been saved. Yet. But I have to say something. “You’re welcome.” The words sound like more of a question than a statement.
“You don’t think you saved my life, do you?” Her voice is velvet edged in steel.
“No,” I answer levelly, my gaze unwavering.
She turns away from me, her features tightening further. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“Reyna?”
She inches away from me.
Instinctively, I reach out and touch her shoulder. “Reyna, what is it?”
She turns and looks from my hand to my face. I start to withdraw my hand. Surprisingly, she places hers over mine. Her fingers are long and slender and cool to the touch. “You don’t see. You don’t see what you’ve done.”
“Oh, I see. Dozens of lives lost from the Task Center,” I say guiltily.
“Don’t you dare blame yourself for their deaths!” Her grip tightens. “You did everything you could to get them out of there. You’ve sacrificed your own life for all of us. What you did for your brother and sister, for me in the arena…no one has ever done anything like that for me before in my whole life. You saved my life. You freed me from that awful place where I thought I’d die.” She looks away and allows her words to settle. Then in a softer voice, she says, “Even if I die out here, I’ll die free, and what you’ve given me will be taken with me. The kindness and bravery you’ve showed me that made it possible, no one can take that away. Not even the Urthmen.”
The Black Forest Page 10