I’m not sure what to say. I don’t see myself as brave or a leader. I’m just, well, me. I shift awkwardly and nod. “Thank you.” I look around at our group then clap my hands together. “Well, it looks like we have plenty to eat now, don’t we?” I say and look down at the beast. Laughter fills the forest. The sound is relief. The sound is hope.
Chapter 14
The small muscles around my jaw ache as my molars contend with the meat of the beast. Once it’s chewed enough to swallow, I choke it down, feeling the threat of my queasy stomach rejecting it and forcing it back up. I struggle to eat despite the fact that I’m starving. I’m not squeamish. Not by any means. I thought I’d delight in gutting the carcass of the beast, cooking it then eating it. I thought I’d feel some sense of pride or satisfaction that it is dead. I was wrong. Not about feeling satisfied and relieved that it’s dead. I did and do feel pride in its demise. We acted as a team. We’re celebrating a victory. But in all my years of hunting, I’ve never encountered a creature quite as, well, smelly. Its stink is not the only factor that makes the meal unpalatable. The meat is tough. Tough meat isn’t an issue. The flavor is. The nastiest, most vile taste to ever touch my tongue, every bite I take and subsequently swallow requires tremendous effort. I suppose I should have expected the taste to be horrendous. The fetid odor that seeped from it the moment my blade carved its midsection caused several in our group who were standing nearby to retch. I tried to convince myself that it was something in its fur, its sweat perhaps, or a secretion prior to death that caused the reek. I figured that cooking it would eliminate the stink. Wrong again. Cooked over an open fire, the raw, gray flesh turned black when finished. Worse than the look of it as it roasted was the stench of the cooking carcass. Horrendous by every definition of the word, it smelled like the rotten flesh of a decomposing animal. The rancid stench wafted through the air, mixing with smoke, singeing my nostrils and the back of my throat. Still, it smelled better than the actual cooked meat tastes.
Gazing around at the faces in our group, it’s evident I’m not the only one to feel this way. Once swallowed, the aftertaste lingers pungently. Those who’ve wolfed it down hungrily, ignoring the flavor as they chew, become all too familiar with awful taste as soon as it’s down. Xan and Micah are among them. Warriors to their core, they bravely shovel the black, beast meat into their mouths. They hardly chew then swallow quickly. Their complexions pale, turning a shade so frightful their coloring is tinged green. Kai chews with a pained expression, burping and contorting his face. Pike, Ara and Reyna do not fare much better. Ara attempts tiny pieces, ripping them off a larger hunk of ropey-looking flesh from the beast’s hindquarters to the point it looks shredded. Even in tiny amounts, the effect is the same. She crinkles her nose, gags immediately after gulping it down but manages to not regurgitate it. Reyna and Pike do the same: plucking small pieces, chewing and swallowing quickly, gagging but keeping it down. Those who shared the cells with us follow suit. Accustomed to eating whatever rank refuse the Urthmen doled out, they struggle but fill their bellies nonetheless. The bred humans do not cope nearly as well as the others. They’ve lived sheltered lives. Their food was fresh, prepared for them and delivered to them in generous portions. Of course, the Urthmen had an ulterior motive. Feeding the bred humans meant keeping their minds and bodies sharp, which, in turn, served them. Whether it was strategizing plans of attack or designing buildings for their finest cities, or anything in between, the bred humans dutifully served them. The Urthmen benefited from keeping them fed and comfortable. Watching them eat the cooked beast meat is a pitiful sight. Trembling hands lift miniscule pieces to frowning mouths. Some wince. Some cry. All carry on in some capacity. Only one vomits. I fear he’ll further dehydrate himself in doing so. To both the bred human’s credit and those who were held captive’s credit, no matter how revolted or nauseated anyone is, the need to eat supersedes the atrocious taste.
Once everyone in our group has reached a point where another bite would induce violent retching, I rise. “I think we need to get moving now. Search for the human camp and hopefully find a water source along the way.” I curl my upper lip and shake my head. “I don’t know about any of you, but I could empty a lake I’m so thirsty.”
“I’d lick the bottom of a lake to get the taste of that funky thing we just ate out of my mouth,” Xan calls out.
“I’d lick pretty much anything to get this taste out of my mouth,” Micah adds as he sticks his whole tongue out.
“Anything?” Kai asks and lifts both brows. “I saw a pile of dried droppings back a few hundred yards. I could take you there if you like? You could lick it and see if it helps?” A hearty chuckle bursts from deep in Kai’s chest. I can’t help but laugh along with him.
“Take him to it!” Xan calls out and gives Micah a shove.
Laughter breaks out. Micah laughs, too. Not quite as loud as Kai, whose rich voice echoes above the others. After several moments, the laughter dies down. “Okay, so no dung for Micah,” Kai says still chuckling slightly. “Let’s look for the camp, and hopefully find water in the process, like Lucas said.”
Heads bob in agreement. We leave behind what’s left of the beast’s cooked carcass, confident there isn’t another creature in the woods that’ll go near it, much less eat it. As we get further and further from it, though, I wonder whether it was a good idea to leave it for two main reasons. The first being the obvious: hunger. To leave behind that much cooked meat is wasteful, no matter how grotesque it was. The second is the stink wafting from it would act as a natural deterrent to any and all other beings that might be interested in harming us. Since encountering the behemoth monster, I can’t feel sure there aren’t other beasts similar to it. The stench would likely ward off future predators. It’s too late now. Convincing anyone to go back for that fetid thing would be a hard sell. Backtracking an hour would only make it worse. When I hear the rush of water over rocks, any and all thoughts of retrieving the beast fly out of my head. Water! We’re near water!
“Do you hear that?” Ara, who walks beside me, turns to me and asks. I nod. A wide grin spreads across her face. “Water,” she says.
“Yup. You’ll be able to wash and drink.” I smile back at her.
“And get this nasty taste out of my mouth!” Ara’s upper lip snarls and her eyes widen.
“Oh man I can’t wait to get this taste out of my mouth!” I agree. “Eating that thing wasn’t my best idea, I guess.”
“Please don’t say that, Lucas.” My sister’s face grows serious, her tone stern. “You killed it and saved us.”
“Everyone helped. It wasn’t just me,” I say.
Ara shakes her head. “No. It was you.” She is adamant. “You opened up his gut. You drove your sword through his heart.”
“Only after you shot his eyes out with your arrows,” I counter.
“Yes, and whose idea was that again?” she asks sarcastically. “Hmm let me think.” She taps her pursed lips with her index finger. “Oh yeah. Yours.” She points the finger she had on her lips seconds ago at me. “You came up with the plan. You lured the monster. You killed it. You gutted it and cut it up despite the horrendous smell and nastiness. You made sure we didn’t starve. You. No one else. Just you.” Her gaze holds me hostage. For a couple of minutes, I don’t speak. I can’t speak. “I’m right. You know I am.” She arcs one eyebrow at me.
I narrow my eyes at her and shake my head. “When did this happen?”
“When did what happen?” she asks.
“This,” I say and gesture to her. “This thing you do where you…handle me.”
“Handle you?” she repeats what I’ve said. “If by ‘handle’ you, you mean I pointed out that you were wrong and promptly gave you the kick in the butt you needed, then yes. Yes, I did just handle you.” She smiles, pleasant as can be. I don’t know whether to be proud of her or a little scared of the fact that she’s smarter than I am. Probably both.
“I surrender.” I raise my hands to ch
est-height, palms facing her. This act causes Ara to toss her head back and laugh out loud. I can’t help but laugh along with her, even if it’s at me.
Ara and I have been talking and distracted as we’ve walked. Our pace has slowed. The others have passed us. It isn’t until the temperature cools dramatically and we find ourselves under a canopy of treetops by a pebbly embankment that we hear the loud flow. Cheers and happy sounds fill the air as boots are kicked off faster than I’ve ever seen them kicked off and bodies wade out into what shapes up to be a wide, fast-moving stream. Ara and I don’t waste a moment either. We peel off our shoes and socks and dash out to the water as fast as we can. Refreshing and cool against my hot skin, all I want to do is submerge myself in it and drink. But it’s been a considerable amount of time since I drank last. I need to sip slowly. I scoop handfuls, alternating between drinking and relishing in the feel of the cool current against my tired muscles. After a long while of drinking, floating and goofing around in the stream, everyone seems refreshed. I doubt any of us could’ve continued much longer without finding this stream. We relax on the warm rocks around it, many of us stripped down to our undergarments, and allow our wet clothes to dry. Jonah is sitting next to me, his knees tucked to his chest modestly. “How much farther do you think the human camp is from here?” I ask him.
“It could be anywhere in this area. It makes the most sense for it to be near this stream,” he replies.
Feeling optimistic, I say, “If we follow the stream, you think we’ll find it?”
Jonah nods. “I do. I think we’ll certainly find it.” His gaze flickers between me and his knees. But I’m less concerned about his lack of eye contact at the moment. I focus on his words. They’ve filled me with hope.
“Good. That’s really good news,” I say. I feel a smile round my cheeks. Inspired, I want to follow the stream and find the human camp, our new home. Visions of huts like the village in which I was born and raised come to mind. I picture elders, parents, children, and it buoys my spirits further, filling me with joy. I want my brother and sister to have some semblance of a life. I want them to have peace. I want it for Reyna, too. For Kai, Micah, Xan. For everyone. With a newfound spring in my step, I gather my clothes and dress. I make eye contact with Ara and Pike. I wave them toward me. They dress quickly and make their way over.
“I feel much better,” Pike says as he rubs a hand over his head. The hair on top sticks up in small spikes. It’s grown so much since it was cut last, back when we had a home.
“Me, too,” Ara agrees. She’s braided her long, sandy hair and pulled it over one shoulder.
“I bet. I do, too.” I say. “And that awful taste is out of my mouth.”
“Yes! I found a patch of mint growing on the other side of the water. I cleaned my teeth and tongue then chewed a few pieces.”
“Reyna and I found some too and did the same.” Pike grins and shows his bright teeth.
“Very nice. I’ll have to go over there before we leave and clean my teeth, as well,” I say. “Speaking of leaving, I wanted to tell you what Jonah told me.” My brother and sister lean in a bit, caution evident in their features. “No need to worry,” I assure them. “I have good news this time.” They both relax visibly.
“What is it? What’s the good news?” Pike asks.
“According to Jonah, if we follow this stream, we should find the human camp.” I smile.
“Really?” Ara brightens, the sparkle returning to her eyes. “That’s great news!”
“What’s great news?” Reyna walks up and joins us. She combs through her hair with her fingers, getting out the knots.
“The human camp is along this stream,” Ara says before I get a chance. She’s practically bouncing she’s so excited.
Reyna’s gaze widens. “Wow, that’s terrific,” she matches Ara’s enthusiasm. She looks from Ara to me and a small giggle escapes her. The sound makes my smile widen to the point my cheeks ache.
“What’s going on over here? What’s with all the smiling?” Xan is at my side. “You people look crazy.”
“Crazy?” All mirth drains from Reyna’s tone. She plants her hands on her hips and glares at Xan. “For your information, we just found out that the human camp is along this very stream and we’re happy.”
“Okay Reyna. No need to get all fired up for no reason,” Xan says in a tone that’s overly saccharine and mocking. “I was just playing around.”
Reyna looks as though she may haul off and punch Xan. Luckily, Kai joins us and diffuses the situation. “Xan!” he bellows. “Judging from the look on Reyna’s face, I take it you’ve opened your mouth!” Though his words could be taken as insulting, his tone and demeanor are so jovial, his intention is clear. Xan smiles. Kai claps his back with a giant hand. “My friends, we’re leaving?” he changes the subject.
“Yes. From what Jonah’s said, the human camp is along this stream, not far from here,” I say.
Kai’s ebony eyes twinkle. “Is that right?”
“It sure is. And I can’t speak for anyone but me, but I want to get there as soon as possible,” I say.
“Lucas, you speak for all of us, trust me, brother,” Kai says with a sage nod of his head. “I’ll gather everyone.” Kai leaves and within no time has everyone assembled and dressed and walking.
Following the wet earth alongside the stream, we’re able to stop and drink whenever we like. It’s a luxury. I’m not sure how long we’ve been going when Kai, who’s remained up front and by my side, stops me. “Look,” he says. His eyes are cast downward.
“At what?” I ask, not knowing what the heck I’m supposed to see.
Kai points to the mud below. “That. And that. Those are footprints.” My eyes follow the trajectory of his finger. Sure enough, I see multiple footprints in the mud. “Human footprints,” he says.
“Or Urthmen footprints.” I hate how negative I sound. Fear and experience have shaped my skepticism.
“Could be that, too.” Kai furrows his brow in consternation.
“No, it’s not.” Jonah’s voice echoes from just a few steps behind us. “We’re too close to the camp. The Urthmen don’t know about this place. I never got to tell them about it or map out the location for them.”
Map out the location…for the slaughter of an entire human camp. The words, the implication, the aftermath, all of it sickens me. My home was on the receiving end of one of their plans. My village was a location that was mapped out, scouted and attacked. Do any of the bred humans understand that? Does Jonah understand that? Does he have the ability to feel empathy? I wonder. Jonah is a human being just as all of us in the group are. I force my wonderings to the back of my mind as we follow the footprints for just a few more minutes before they fall from my thoughts entirely. The sight in the distance the culprit. Standing taller and neater than any structure I have ever seen is a wall. Smooth from top to bottom it appears to be made from concrete, not rocks, twigs and mud as the one surrounding my village was. The wall I see looks like a structure that would’ve existed before the War, before everything changed and great human cities fell to ruins.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing. It-it isn’t possible.” Reyna’s voice is a breathy whisper.
“How can a structure like that exist in the middle of the woods?” Aaron asks the question on all of our minds.
“Yeah, how is that possible?” Micah asks.
“Well, clearly it is possible, and does exist. I was right and that’s all that matters,” Jonah says in a tone that almost sounds snippy.
Reyna and I trade glances. She looks to me for an explanation and all I can do is shrug. Deciding to ignore Jonah’s odd reaction, in a chipper voice I say, “I’m glad we found it. Let’s go!”
We quicken our pace, the excitement among us palpable and growing with every step we take. By the time we reach an enormous metal gate at in the wall and see three humans—males who are about our age—there is a buzz radiating from us. However, as we draw closer, I can se
e that the men’s faces are clouded by strange expressions. I can’t put my finger on why they look as they do. Perhaps they’re surprised and leery. They’re protected better than any humans I’ve ever encountered, still I don’t blame them. I’m contemplating what to say and how to convince them to let us in when, surprisingly, Jonah rushes past me to the gate. “Hello, my name is Jonah,” he says, emphasizing his name for some odd reason. The three men stare at him blankly. I start to worry they cannot speak or do not understand him, that perhaps that’s why Jonah is behaving even more peculiarly than he usually does. “It’s nice to meet you,” Jonah says. He speaks slightly slower and louder than normal. The men remain as they were, looking at him wordlessly. Panic begins to wash over me. How can we ever get inside and coexist with them if they can’t understand us or are incapable of communication? I walk up next to Jonah.
“Hi, I’m Lucas,” I say. From the corner of my eye, I see movement from Jonah. I’m not sure what he’s done or gestured, if at all, but I notice the subtlest quirk of an eyebrow from the man opposite me behind the bars. Still, I continue. “We’ve escaped imprisonment. We need a place to stay.” I do not get a response just a lowering of gazes to the weapons we carry. I look to mine. “We mean you no harm, I promise. We’ve needed these to escape and protect ourselves.” The men’s expressions shift from undecided to hesitant. “We’ll leave our weapons if you’d prefer,” I say.
“Lucas, no!” Reyna whispers.
I ignore her despite my own reservations about proceeding unarmed. But they’re humans, just as we are. They have the same enemies and challenges we do. What reason would they have to harm us? Why would we need our weapons? I remove my sword from its sheath and drop it to the grassy ground below. Without it, I feel surprisingly naked, vulnerable. I didn’t expect to feel this way. But I can’t bend down and pick it up. Doing so would not inspire confidence. To the contrary, we’d be promptly turned away, I’m sure.
The Black Forest Page 14