by Lilly Wilder
Chapter 18
A few days pass by without much happening. I suppose that is a good thing. Sometimes, we all talk about irrelevant things. Other times, we are all lost in our own individual thoughts, thinking about all those things that used to make us happy back when we were actually living our lives, and not hiding away. But, necessity makes victims of us all sometimes. And, I can’t complain. They have been taking such good care of me. Fynn brought us some snacks and special foods we told him, so it’s all about the little things nowadays.
But, at the same time, there is just too much pressing down onto me, and I feel like it is getting harder and harder to breathe. This place is safe, but it is slowly becoming claustrophobic. I’ve never suffered from any such ailment, but even the strongest minds can succumb to such pressures.
One afternoon, I notice that Anderson is sleeping soundly on the bed opposite mine. He looks so peaceful. Covered with a thin blanket, he is facing the opposite wall. His breathing is rhythmical and steady. I wonder if he is dreaming. I am. Every single night. And, it’s always one of the two extremes. I’m either buried in some coffin, and Sven is shoveling dirt on top of me, screaming that no one will ever find me again, or I’m back home with my dad, in his study, and we are leafing through the family album, with this whole nightmare completely behind us.
I wonder if that moment would ever come. I wonder if I would ever see him again. But, I need to stay positive. I can’t let depression sink its teeth into me. I just can’t.
So, I tiptoe outside, and run into Fynn, who is on guard duty.
“Nice day,” I say, as he gazes at something in the distance.
A few birds are chirping somewhere far away, and they catch my attention. I see there is a small path around our hideout, maybe even a nearby woods. I wonder if I’d be allowed to take a walk, as the place has become suffocating, despite the fact that I know both of them are trying to make it pleasant for me.
“Rain’s coming,” he tells me.
Only then do I realize that he is looking into the horizon. The sky over us is blue, so light blue that you wish to dive right into it, without even looking. But, the horizon reveals something more menacing. Dark grey clouds are clustering together, and that is never a good sign. Still, they seem far away, probably a whole day away.
“That might not be so bad,” I smile. “It’ll freshen up the air a little.”
He doesn’t say anything to that, and I guess I don’t expect him to. Expecting things from Fynn is close to madness, mostly because he never reacts the way you expect him to. He doesn’t have normal people reactions. His are always over the top. You just try to steer clear of it, even though that is the last thing I want to do. I want to get to know him, but I have no idea how. He’s not the least bit interested in small talk, and that is basically the only thing we can do around here. How does one approach him? How does one show him it’s OK to let your guard down and just relax for a while?
“Listen, I wanted to ask you something…” I start, twirling a loose strand of hair around my index finger, something I always did with my dad. The action used to bring me back to the past, to my childhood years, when I would mostly get everything I wished for. All I had to do was point at it and it would be mine.
He turns to me, his eyes piercing, but at the same time looking through me and all around me. It’s like he is trying to frame me into the surroundings, so he gives me all the attention I need, not once neglecting to notice what is going on around us.
“I noticed there is a small path around here,” I continue, slightly hesitant, pointing somewhere behind him. It doesn’t seem like something he’d agree to, but one needs to ask if one is to be given, right?
“And, I was wondering if I could maybe go take a quick walk? You know, just to clear my head a little and - “
“No,” he cuts me like a knife. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I know that, but…” I start, but I’m not really sure where I’m going with this one, as all I have are my wishes, and not proper arguments.
My father always said that in order to convince someone of something, you need to make them see it from your point of view. Then, they would usually agree to go along with whatever it is you are asking of them. However, if all you had were feelings, then achieving this was slightly more complicated. Still, if you have solid arguments which make sense, then you’ve got it made. Unfortunately, this wasn’t one of those cases.
“It’s too dangerous to separate, and especially for you to go anywhere on your own.”
My gut is telling me that he is right. We’re here for a reason, and that’s not to be tourists. We need to hide. We need to stay safe, if we want to survive. And yet, my body is screaming for the solace of the woods and the shade of trees, if only just for a few moments. I can’t be locked up any longer. I feel like I’m going crazy.
I sigh. If I share any of this with him, I doubt he would understand. He is just too practical. I doubt he ever does anything just because he feels like doing it. No. There has to be a good reason behind it. In a way, he is a lot like my dad.
This is why I know I’ll require a different strategy, and this one comes from my mom. You simply give your opponent two options, both of which are actually what you want, and you let your opponent choose the one he or she wants. The end result is the same - you get exactly what you wanted, but this way, your opponent feels like they were in control the whole time. This of course, isn’t true, but it doesn’t matter, does it?
“I suppose you leave me with no other choice, then,” I sigh sadly.
I know what he’s expecting me to say now. He thinks I’ll say that I’ll just go back inside, and do as I’m told. Actually, do as I’m told by him. He’s probably used to giving out orders, but I’m not really all that used to taking them.
“You will either accompany me now for a brisk walk not too far away from here, or you’ll risk me going alone then very soon,” I say, with such defiance I never thought I’d find inside of me, especially not under these circumstances.
But, it’s true. It’s just a walk. And, what can happen if we’re safe here?
The shock on his face is priceless. This is one of those rare, precious moments you feel bad you don’t have a Polaroid camera with you, so you can take a photo and always remember it. His lips are slightly parted, his eyes wide with disbelief. He never saw it coming, or even expected it of me. Then, against all my expectations, he smiles broadly.
“So, you’re blackmailing me now?” I see the corners of his lips dancing, and I want to see more of it.
“It’s just an invitation for a quick walk,” I shrug, pretending to be all indifferent, but in fact, my heart is pounding so wildly that I feel it’ll jump right out of my chest. “You kinda forced me to put it this way.”
“I see,” he nods, his body leaning a bit backwards, as if to give me a good once over, to make sure it’s really me, being all ballsy and confident.
Once he’s sure it really is me, he pulls back closer again.
“You don’t want me to go alone there, do you?” I ask again.
“Of course not.”
“Then, join me for a walk,” I urge him. “We’re safe here.”
“We’re not safe anywhere,” he corrects me.
“Alright,” I snort. “Then, we’re safer here than anywhere else in the world. Is that correct?”
I see the hesitation on his face. He wants me to believe that this is the safest place for us, but he won’t say it with certainty. I doubt there is anything certain in his world, expect for maybe death, and as Benjamin Franklin said it, taxes. Instead of saying anything, he just nods gently.
“Anderson is taking a nap,” I continue. “He won’t even know we’re gone. And, besides, it’s not like we’ll be going too far away. We’ll be just around the bend. If he calls out to us, for whatever reason, we’d still be able to hear him and rush back.”
He seems to ponder the idea for a lit
tle while. I smile at him, hoping that will induce his confirmation. He looks around. I can see his nostrils flaring, as if he’s sniffing the air around us. I wonder how that feels, to be able to foretell someone’s presence, merely based on their odor. For a moment, I feel a little self-conscious. It’s not like we have regular baths or showers here, so we all must have an unpleasant body odor. I instantly press my arms to my body, in a futile effort to prevent my glands from spreading my scent all around me. I’m not sure if he noticed it, but he turns to me and smiles.
“The coast seems clear,” he tells me, but there is still hesitation in his voice.
“Does that mean what I think it means?”
“But, just a quick walk,” he reminds me. “We shouldn’t get far away, in case Anderson needs us.”
“He’s snoring away, I doubt he’ll even notice we’re missing,” I assure him, but he doesn’t seem convinced. “I know he probably tells you this often, but you need to relax a little.”
“It goes against my character,” he says, and I almost miss the joke.
“You didn’t just joke there, did you?” I pretend to be all shocked, with my eyes wide opened in mock disbelief.
“Who knows,” he shrugs.
We start walking together, our feet synchronizing their steps. We pass through a small, narrow path, which leads us away from our hideout, but still in plain sight of it.
“So, how did you find this place?” I wonder, as we’re walking.
“I was running away from some hunters,” he explains. “I was still in my wolf form.”
I try to imagine him as a wild animal. Untamed. Free. Fearless. I turn to him, and realize that this is exactly how he is even as a human. There is little difference in his behavior. Probably some difference in body hair.
“I was bleeding,” he continues. “One of the hunters shot me. I still have a scar on my shoulder. I rushed through the thick bushes, and I found a little hole. It was barely an entrance. But, I knew I couldn’t run any longer. I had to hide. Or risk being caught and killed.”
“Did they know you were a shifter?”
“I doubt it,” he explains. “They just wanted a hunting trophy. I doubt they even took a good long look at me through the barrel of that gun.”
“How long did you stay here?”
“I remember being knocked out. So exhausted I didn’t even care whether they’d find me or not. I just wanted to sleep. So, I did. When I woke up, I could hear the birds singing outside. I looked down at my body. I had shifted during the night, didn’t even feel it. My wound was luckily only surface. It looked much worse than it was. So, I stayed here until I healed properly. But, I did decide to keep this place as my own.”
“Weren’t you afraid someone might find it?”
I feel like we’re going around in a small circle, but I don’t mind. It feels nice just to be outside, to walk, pretending if only for a short while that everything’s alright. And, the fact that it’s Fynn next to me and not Anderson, adds to the strangeness and curiosity of the moment. I dare not look at him while he’s talking. Instead, my gaze is fixated on the little path ahead.
“At first, yes. But, after about 10 years had passed, and I hadn’t seen a living soul around here, I relaxed a little. Started bringing more stuff here. Spending more time here, as well. It became home in a way.”
“Were you… alone?”
The thought of him sleeping there, hurt and without anyone to take care of him, makes me sad. Sadder than I thought it would.
“I’ve spent a large part of my life alone,” he continues. “Then, I met Anderson, and things changed.”
“How did you know that he’s… well, the same thing you are?” I ask, as I step on a little branch, and it breaks underneath the weight of my foot.
“A shifter?” he smirks. “You just know.”
I know what he means, but the feeling of that knowledge eludes me. Sure, I have my gut feeling, but that’s far from his ability to smell someone from a mile away.
“How are you doing?” he suddenly asks, and at first, I’m not even sure what exactly he means, as so many things have happened lately, that I was barely able to keep track of all of them.
“Me?” I’m still taken aback by his question, and I almost stumble over a root that protrudes from the ground, but I manage to keep myself balanced. He just nods. “I’m… confused, I guess. And, my dad…”
“I know what I said was harsh.”
This time, I stop, and turn to him. My fingers are trembling. We are surrounded by a thick row of bushes and trees, hidden from the world. Maybe here, we can be who we are, without any fear of judgment.
“You told the truth.” My lips tremble as I speak.
He takes a step closer to me. The air around us is warm, and it’s only getting warmer. I swallow heavily, my lips dry.
“I’m not very good with words,” he explains, not that any such explanation is necessary. “But, hope can be a devastating thing sometimes.”
The tone of his voice tells me that he probably had a lot of hope at one time, but it was probably dashed, and now, he’s afraid to hope for anything. My heart aches. Being hopeless is an immeasurable sadness. I should know.
I lower my gaze, and somehow, I know that we both understand each other. Optimism is a great thing, but sometimes, hope turns out to be your enemy.
“I remember when my mom died,” I suddenly start, surprised at the fact that I’m talking about this. Endless hours of therapy sessions with numerous shrinks barely made me talk about this, and here I am, opening up to someone who was mere weeks ago, a complete stranger to me. “I’d spend days in the house, just looking at the door, hoping she’d come in, even though the rational part of my brain knew she would never walk through that door again, and yet, I still hoped. It was a hope that was keeping me buried alive.”
I swallow a moan, and quickly wipe a stray tear from my left eye. Some wounds never heal. I know Fynn is equally aware of this.
“That’s why I didn’t want to feed any false hopes,” he tells me. “About - “
“My dad,” I nod. “I know. I appreciate that.”
“That’s why it’s great to have someone like Anderson around. He counteracts my negativity with his positivism.”
“Yeah,” I chuckle. “In a way, you two are the perfect man.”
He looks at me, then bursts out into roaring laughter. I join in immediately, and it takes us both a while to calm down. With still a few left-over giggles, we continue on urr way, and shortly after we’re back where we started from.
“See?” I smile. “We’re back and nothing’s happened.”
I spread my arms wide, like spreading my wings, as if to prove my point.
“I see,” he nods. He quickly glances at his watch.
“Everything OK?”
“Yeah. It’s just time to wake up Anderson. It’s his turn to take over.”
“Do you want me to go wake him up?” I ask.
“No, you stay here,” he replies. “It’ll be dark soon and you’ll have to come back inside anyway. Enjoy the fresh air some more.”
“Alright then, I will,” I smile, as I take him up on his offer.
“Just, don’t stray, alright?” He gestures at me to stay put, and I nod.
I see him go inside, and I turn away to face the greenery around me. As it’s getting dark, I can feel the chill. I rub my upper arms with the opposite hand. The air is still, but every once in a while, a breeze blows right through me, chilling me to my very bones, like a premonition.
I wonder what is going to happen. I wonder when, and if, I will ever get my life back. I suppose this can’t last forever. Nothing lasts forever. Not good things, not bad things. It’s a soothing thought really.
“Maddie!” I hear Fynn shout, and I immediately turn around.
He looks distraught. There is a look on his face, one I would never attribute to him. It’s cold, relentless fear. His lips a
re slightly parted, and I can hear his heavy breath, as it is let out into the world.
“I know this must sound stupid,” he starts, pausing for a moment, “but, have you seen Anderson? Has he mentioned going anywhere?”
“I…” His question catches me off guard, and for a moment, I don’t know what to say. “I don’t know…. I… no… he hasn’t said anything. I saw him sleeping, and then I went out to you. Why? What’s happened?”
The sound of my own voice frightens me. The look on his face frightens me. My skin has broken out into goosebumps, and all of a sudden, it’s gotten much colder.
“Anderson…” he mutters. “Anderson is gone.”
Chapter 19
Fynn’s words are still ringing in my ear, like an echo of some old song, which your mind refuses to shut out.
Anderson is gone.
I watch as Fynn checks the nearby area, but when he returns with the same forlorn look on his face, I know everything. His silence says it all.
He sighs heavily, like the weight of the world is upon his back. And, it truly is. We are stuck in some God forsaken limbo, with no hope of rectifying this situation. I want to turn to him and ask him what we are going to do now, but I’m scared what the answer might be. I’m petrified that he will tell me the same words that are ringing inside my mind. A bell of three words: I don’t know.
I try to breathe deeply, to calm myself down, but it’s impossible. Anderson is missing. He wouldn’t have gone on his own, without telling us. So, someone must have taken him. And, if someone had taken him, that means that our enemies know exactly where we are, and they are just toying with us. Watching us.
The thought of being watched stifles a scream deep inside my throat. My heart is beating wildly, and no thought can calm it down. A voice inside my mind tells me it’s all over. We’re done for. They know our every move, and are always two steps ahead.