Cole stifled his giggles and pretended to inspect the ceiling as well. “What’s wrong Bud? Is the ceiling coming apart?”
A menacing growl leaked out through Goran’s needle-sharp teeth. After a minute of searching, he hopped down and nestled himself under the table. Not wanting to overdo it, Cole laid himself out on the sleeping mat and let his friend sleep. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he was tired enough to sleep as well. He couldn’t tell if it was night time yet as the light coming from the holes hadn’t changed. Just as he felt himself slipping into a dream, something hit him in the stomach. He bolted upright and found a smooth pebble next to him. Goran was fast asleep.
The next day, or perhaps it was the same day, Cole woke before Goran. The rain had stopped but the sky was still overcast. How long was he supposed to be stuck here? The novelty of the cabin had worn off entirely, but the dangers that lurked in the woods were even less inviting. Yet after a few handfuls from the bowl, Cole decided to brave the forest. Popping out of the door, the first thing he noticed was how sore his feet were. He hadn’t run around barefoot since he was a kid, and even then that was only at the park. He adopted a tender gait and set off. Before Cole took more than a few steps he heard the door pop behind him.
“Coo Cha!”
He turned to see his friend galloping towards him, seed in mouth. “Welcome to the land of the living. You know you snored all damn night? Are animals even supposed to snore?”
The pair set off, Cole taking a slow lead with his raw feet. They walked in ever larger circles around the cabin, exploring for a while and taking breaks when Cole needed it. Goran seemed content to follow him. During their breaks he would show Cole things, mostly edible things. There were some flowers which had thick flesh that tasted similar to plums. Under the fake-jelly-filled rocks there were usually a few beetles, though Cole let Goran keep those for himself. Cole even learned how to tell the difference between the real rocks and the jelly ones; the jelly rocks never stayed still too long, eventually wiggling or letting out a quiet hiss. Sometimes Goran would wander off just out of sight, but he always came running back within a few minutes. Cole wondered why Goran always came back. He was a solitary wild animal. Why would he be attached to a random stranger that showed up out of the blue? Whatever the reason was, Cole was grateful for his company.
After one of Goran’s tangents, he returned with a struggling rodent in his jaws. It squeaked and kicked madly, but there was no hope of escaping Goran’s long canines. Cole watched with morbid interest as Goran brought the creature over to a real rock, picking up a smaller stone along the way. With practiced motions, Goran held down the rodent with a hand and one foot, then proceeded to bludgeon the creature’s skull. He brought the stone down again and again, each time producing a sickening crunch. Cole went sickly pale, suddenly sweating and out of breath. He clutched his ears, wincing at the noise.
“Stop it! Stop! Leave him alone!” Cole screamed.
Goran looked up from his kill, which was no longer struggling. He clamped his jaws on one of its legs and dragged it over to Cole, placing it at his feet. Cole took one glance at the creature and vomited. Still gasping for air, Cole ran for the Cabin. He dove through the door and fell into the table, knocking it into the bookshelf. His breath now rapid and shallow, Cole hugged himself to keep from falling apart. Goran came through the door shortly afterwards, without the dead rodent. His ruby eyes were wide with concern.
“Coo Cha?” he barked.
Cole continued his fit, curled up in a ball on the floor. Goran shoved him in the back, but to no effect. Cocking his head, Goran snorted and sat back on his haunches as Cole’s spasm eventually gave way to uneasy silence.
When Cole woke with no memory of falling asleep, the whole left side of his body was senseless. He pushed himself up into a sitting position as his numb side exploded with pins and needles. Goran was still sitting, eyes fixed.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Cole grunted, wiping the tears and spit from his face.
As the days passed, Cole realized there were no days because this place never had any nights. Once he tried staying up for as long as he could just to see if the sun moved. He eventually gave up after Goran went through two full bouts of sleep while the sun hadn’t deviated an inch from his book markers. With no other means of tracking time, he counted the times he slept, though that was unreliable because he had no idea how long he dozed off for. It was the best option however.
Weeks went by, or at least by Cole’s estimate. The surrounding area had more than enough edible plant life for Goran, but with Cole’s appetite they had to venture farther as their food sources diminished. Cole even tried some of the small game Goran caught. The first few times were more of an exercise in failure than anything else, seeing as Cole had no idea how to make a fire, and he had no means of dressing the kill. After trial and error, the two devised a foolproof system that would almost always work. Cole would sneak around a dense patch of undergrowth and push his way through, scaring any small creatures towards Goran’s capable effective canines. While Cole was much too slow to catch his own prey, his newly sharpened rock and knack for creating friction-fires proved to be a boon for the duo.
Goran had apparently never seen fire before, as he hid on top of the cabin for an hour after Cole had miraculously made his first. While Cole found Goran’s reaction amusing, he refrained from laughing or poking fun. There were countless occasions when Cole found himself paralyzed with a sudden panic attack, and Goran was always there for him. Certain triggers consistently brought about these debilitating fits, such as a puddle he fell into by accident, and when Goran cracked open a hard fruit with a rock, and even a hearty whiff of Cole’s own body odor. Each time Cole found himself on the ground shaking and unable to breathe, he would wake to find Goran by his side patiently waiting for his friend to be okay.
Eventually, their foraging brought them to a path. This was an unusual discovery for Cole at the least. Goran on the other hand seemed quite at home no matter where he was. Inspecting the trail, Cole realized this was no game path for rodents or other small creatures. This was a road clearly made for a reason. Real rocks lined the edges of the trail, and there wasn’t a single weed or shrub encroaching within its limits.
Cole hopped down from a ledge bordering the trail, landing sloppily. “Goran, what is this thing?”
Goran landed next to him and continued down the trail as if he owned the place.
Cole took a long breath, looking behind him. “We’re already a good ways from the cabin, but I kind of want to see where this goes. You up for a little walk?”
Goran answered his question by trotting at a steady pace down the trail.
“Well you seem to know where you’re going at least. Hey, not so fast, my feet are still a little sore.” Cole winced and started after him.
To the left of the trail a steep slope dropped off towards a valley. To their right was higher ground and their cabin. Goran picked up a faster pace than usual, making Cole jog to keep up. He seemed to be doing this more and more since their first trip into the woods. Cole didn’t mind though. For the first time in his life his body was becoming accustomed to running. He had no mirror to judge with, but he could tell he’d lost a great deal of weight. He never got winded as long as they weren’t sprinting. The wounds on his backside had healed up and his feet were callusing up nicely. He imagined he looked quite good, though his tattered book-binding loincloth could do with replacing.
“What are you in such a hurry for?” Cole said in between breaths. “If we keep going we’re going to have to sleep outside again. I can’t sleep in a tree like you and I’m not trying to get eaten by a pissed-off worm today.”
Goran quickened his pace.
Cole groaned, “This better be worth it.”
If only he had Goran as a running coach. Cole would have made any team he tried out for. They maintained their pace for a while, Goran eventually slowing. This was the first time in Cole’s life when h
e was the fastest runner in a group. Grinning, he dropped his head and lengthened his stride. Without warning, Goran skidded to a stop.
“What’s the matter Bud, getting a little tired?” Cole let out a haughty laugh while he bent over, catching his breath.
Goran was dead still, eyes wide and straight ahead. Cole couldn’t tell if he was ready to flee or pounce. With a grunt, Goran shot off like a little bullet and scaled the nearest fern.
“What the…” Cole arched his neck, losing sight of his friend in the canopy.
The path and surrounding forest were eerily silent. Even the birds had ceased their usual gossip.
In the quiet, Cole could hear something farther down the trail, animal cries or perhaps human voices. Something didn’t feel right. The air was too still. Cole darted to the left side of the trail, stumbling downhill as he fell into a flowery shrub. The voices grew louder. They were definitely people and they were definitely coming his way.
Chapter 8
Nightfall
Peeping through the leaves, Cole spied two children on the trail. A rosy-cheeked girl skipped alongside a boy who had the same nose and hair, possibly brother and sister. The language they spoke was just as foreign as their clothes, which appeared to be no more than strips of earth-toned cloth wrapped tightly like gauze. While the boy carried a severe look and walked with a military-like stiffness, the girl was carefree, as if any moment not singing and dancing was a moment wasted.
Cole wished his hiding spot was a little farther off the trail. The two children were close enough now that he could hear the swishing of the girl’s garments. As they neared, Cole noticed that even though they were the size of children, their faces were crinkled with lines both deep and light, giving them a contrasting aged look. Cole held his breath as the girl twirled past without notice. The boy, however, saw Cole immediately, crying out in alarm. Cole emerged with raised hands, dropping his sharpened rock in plain sight, a decision he regretted instantly when the boy pulled out a jagged dark blade from the folds around his middle.
“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt anybody.” Cole’s voice was as soft and gentle as he could manage.
The girl stopped dancing and hid behind the boy, who held out his blade and shouted something. Cole tried to make himself look as unintimidating as possible, but he was nearly naked and almost twice their size. The boy repeated himself, taking a step forward with a white-knuckle grip on his weapon.
Cole shook his head slowly, palms facing outward. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re saying. Everything is okay, I’m not going to hurt you guys.”
Cole’s gaze darted from the boy’s eyes to the knife. The boy took another step forward, jabbering all the while. Cole hadn’t the slightest idea as to what the boy was getting at, but it didn’t sound friendly. Another step forward. Cole widened his stance, confident he could overpower the kid and take the knife. He was wrong. With his other hand, the boy whipped a rock at Cole’s head. Cole ducked, hearing the rock whoosh by his ear. His head rang like a bell as his face was met by the boy’s foot. Stunned, Cole fell to his knees. As he felt the blade on this throat, his hand found the boy’s wrist. They wrestled for a few seconds as Cole’s other hand found the boy’s free arm. The boy was very strong for being so small, but luckily Cole was much larger and twisted his arm behind his back. Cole wrenched on the boy’s wrist, gaining a pained cry as the knife dropped to the dirt. Half blind with watery eyes, Cole spun the boy, tossing him as far as he could. His little body landed heavily in the dirt and didn’t get up. Cole would have felt terrible if he hadn’t been nearly murdered.
“I told you I didn’t want to hurt you!” Cole’s voice cracked. He snatched the blade from the dirt. “Why would you attack me like that? I was no threat!”
The boy answered with a groan as the girl rushed to his side. To show he was no danger to them, he held the blade behind his back and helped the boy to his feet. The girl watched, still as a statue.
Cole adopted a sincere tone and brushed the dirt from the boy’s front. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so rough. Are your shoulders ok?”
The boy didn’t speak, but the girl chimed in. She appeared to be pleading with the boy. Without breaking eye contact with Cole, he responded to her with a short, fiery words. She continued to bargain with him, her hands tugging lightly at his. He answered with a quick nod and the tension seemed to evaporate from the air. Smiling, the girl threw her hands up and spun on the spot. Without fear, she snatched Cole’s free hand, beckoning him.
“You want me to follow you?” Cole guessed.
She responded in a pleasant manner and pulled at him. The boy deliberately pointed at Cole and then himself, then down the trail toward where they came from. Cole gazed up towards the canopy. Goran was nowhere to be found.
“Goran! Come on down, it’s safe now!” Cole shouted through cupped hands. There was no response. He called again but the only reply was a bird cawing angrily back at him. “Huh. I’m sure he’ll turn up sooner or later. You probably just spooked him.”
The boy looked up, confused. With a face of wrinkled stone he nodded down the trail, indicating they should be going. He held his hand out expectantly as they stepped off.
“I think I’ll hold on to the knife for now.” Cole wiped some blood from his neck, showing the boy. The boy huffed and quickened his stride.
As their legs were much shorter, Cole had to restrain himself from walking too fast. The girl held his hand the whole time, swinging it back and forth as she chirped away, explaining this and that as though Cole could understand. The boy remained silent. Goran never appeared, though Cole wasn’t worried. He probably just had gone back to the cabin.
The trail gradually rolled over to a grassy blanket. The cool blades soothed Cole’s battered feet as the forest thinned to a windswept field. A welcoming breeze rippled through the high grass, making it look more like an ocean. Without the shade he was accustomed to, Cole had to squint under his hand to see. In the distance, a group of tall buildings poked up from behind a lone hill. The girl laughed, bouncing on her feet as she pointed towards the structures. Even the boy smiled.
The group of buildings turned out to be a dumpy village. It was hard for Cole to tell, but if he had to guess this was a poorer section of town. A musty stink hung in the air, reminding Cole of a homeless person in the summer. The buildings were a few stories tall and so crooked that Cole was hesitant to walk too close. Insects swarmed in the gaps in between houses, which seemed to be the dumping spot for their refuse. Tiny people popped from the doorless thresholds. They all wore the same wrappings and none of them were taller than Cole’s chest. Apprehension painted each of their wrinkled faces when they saw him.
A woman approached the three of them with her hands on her hips. Her hair and neck were wrapped tight, giving her a mummy-like appearance. She gestured towards Cole’s naked body, barking at him with spit flying from her jowls. Cole gripped the knife a little tighter. The children talked with the woman, hopefully putting in a good word. Cole had overpowered the boy but his confidence waned as the adults circled close. After some deliberation, the woman stepped uncomfortably close to Cole. Without blinking or dropping her gaze, she held out a hand and demanded something of him. Her voice was harsh and raspy, pushing Cole a step back. He was completely surrounded now by more than he could count. The little girl took his hand and spoke in sweet, reassuring coos. Cole relinquished the knife to the older woman, who passed it off to another, her eyes stabbing him all the while. The small knife wouldn’t do him much good anyway, not against so many. At the old woman’s command, the crowd dispersed. The two children from the trail remained.
When the children didn’t move, the old woman scolded them, or at least that’s what it sounded like to Cole. The boy seemed to be reasoning with the woman as the girl chimed in, still holding Cole’s hand. Without a word the mummy-lady undid the wrappings from her hand as the boy began pleading. With heavy knuckles, she smote the boy across the f
ace, causing his feet to leave the ground. His body seemed to take a lifetime to fall. Chilled worms tickled Cole’s insides, taking his breath away. He felt the girl’s fingers slip from his as she was dragged away. Cole couldn’t hear her cries as the pulse in his ears was deafening. He was having another panic attack. He hugged himself, steadying the shakes before they set in.
Not remembering having closed his eyes, Cole opened them and slowed his breathing.
Surprisingly, the boy was back on his feet. Blood drooled from a split under his eye. He had his arms around the girl, consoling her quietly as she bawled. He whispered in her ear, coaxing as he guided her away. She looked back at Cole and reached for him, but the boy nudged her along. The old woman said something to a few men Cole had just realized were standing behind him. They each held a pole taller than Cole, each with a jagged dark blade at the tip. Cole winced as she poked him in the chest, then made a walking motion with her stubby fingers before pointing at her own chest. The signal was clear enough; follow me. Cole didn’t need much convincing after seeing the three pike-men, who trailed behind silently. The mummy-lady led him deeper into the village. The buildings grew taller and less shabby as they went. The dank aroma was replaced by a sterile smell not unlike that of a hospital. This new district was much cleaner. The dirt roads eventually became stone polished to a mirror finish, which blended seamlessly into the buildings. There was no trash to be found and the doors were all solid. The people here were much taller than Cole, and lacked any sort of wrinkle or blemish on their faces. Their wrappings were darker with a silky sheen, some even laced with shiny metallic threads. Unlike their shorter counterparts, the people here took no notice of Cole. They were too busy in conversation or rushing around as if late for an appointment.
Saving The Dark Side: Book 1: The Devotion Page 11