by David Oliver
Chapter 6
Differing Views
Ella
“Hone yourself into what you need to be to survive.”
Ella’s eyes flicked open and she drew a heaving breath, hands scrabbling at the burning blade in her side. When she didn’t touch any metal her movements began to falter, her breathing reducing from panicked hyperventilation to deeper, gasping breaths. After a few moments her eyes adjusted and she realised that she was no longer in that terrifying room of despair but sitting on the cold floor of a cave. Light streaming in from above showed her that it was still day time outside.
What in the Chains is going on? Is this another trick?
But no, there were no hanging bodies, no flickering fire light and…
She inspected her body in the ray of light.
No wounds.
Where were the wounds?
Eyes wary and mind racing she slowly stood and made her way to the cave entrance. Surprisingly her body felt strong, like she had just woken up from a deep sleep rather than been hanging upside down for what had felt like days.
The world outside was covered in white and snow slowly swirled through the air. A gust of wind caught her and she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself and taking a step back inside.
Okay, in a cave in the snow covered middle of nowhere. I’m not dead and I don’t look like I’ve even been injured. So either I just hallucinated the whole thing, I’ve been healed or it was something else. Does that mean the others were still…?
Was Cassius alive?
Tears welled up out of her eyes and a sob erupted from her chest before she shook her head angrily. That’s not useful right now Ella. Force it back. List out the situation and break it down. You have a cave, that’s shelter which looks pretty useful right about now. She cast her eyes around the cave, looking for anything useful. Number of sharp rocks but that’s about it. No water, no food and no clothing. So those three are the priority. Get on out there and find it. If Cassius is dead then he wouldn’t want you moping around and if he is alive then you’re going to show him how a city rat gets things done!
With a determined grimace Ella stepped out into the outside world, tucking her face against the swirling snow and armed only with a rock. Instantly the temperature plummeted and she began to move quickly, keeping her body as small as possible against the wind. Deeper into the forest the trees were thicker and the ground was littered with autumnal leaves, providing some scant comfort from the cold of the ground. Bundling up any dry sticks that she could find she began ferrying them back to the relative safety of the cave, desperate to have enough for a fire before she lost the light. Once she had a big enough pile she set to work, putting into practice the survival skills that her time with Cassius, Calidan and the Academy had taught her.
Two agonizing hours later she transferred her precious ember to a small pile of dry leaves and silver birch and blew softly, until with a spark of light it caught. Piece by piece she built it up until the fire was casting light across the interior of the cave.
Sitting back with an exhausted smile she allowed herself a moment of peace. The wood she had used had been slightly damp meaning that it had taken even longer than usual to make the ember, something that her raw hands could attest to, but she had managed it in the end. With a groan she reached over to the last branch she had brought in, a sturdy and thick staff nearly as tall as she was, and started scraping away at the tip with a rock. A rock was all well and good as a weapon, but unless she could throw it she was at a disadvantage against practically any predator that might be out here. Although...she mused, her mind returning to the Academy survival training sessions, if I find the right kind of bark, throwing rocks might be a very viable plan. Something to keep an eye out for. With that in mind, a spear beside her and a glorious fire to keep her warm she curled up and closed her eyes, pushing the gnawing hunger in her belly to one side. She had had plenty of experience to do so over the years and within minutes was fast asleep.
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Scythe
Scythe slid down the embankment and jumped the icy brook, his feet crunching against the snow. Behind him he could hear the thudding of hooves and angry snorting as his pursuer lost sight of him. He continued to run, putting as much distance behind him as possible and trying to concentrate on his foot positioning rather than whether the sounds that followed were getting louder. With a grunt he pulled himself up the other side of the embankment and rolled behind a tree where he gasped heaving breaths before forcing himself to be silent.
Heavy thuds cracked the snow on the other side of the brook, the pace slow and accompanied by a lot of grumbling. Snorts filled the cold air and Scythe knew that if he looked out behind him his pursuer would be watching, instead he closed his eyes and held his breath, willing his enemy to go away.
Eventually, after what seemed an eternity sitting in the cold with only his bare flesh as protection, he heard the creature turn and trot away, its snorts shuffling into the distance. Scythe let out a breath of relief. I see why people get gored by boars now, he mused as he cast his eyes over his surroundings, that would have been an unpleasant way to die.
He had woken up in the lee of a small tree, quickly realising that he was unarmed, unhurt and unclothed on the outskirts of a snowy forest. The frigid air stopped the tears from falling as he had endeavoured to find something, anything for warmth and protection and his chattering teeth had been enough to scare the grumpy old boar into action. Barely minutes into waking up he had been on a run for his life and bitterly regretting the times he had laughed at the stories of people getting killed by boars. It had seemed so silly - when there were things out there that actively hunted humans getting killed by a normal sized boar seemed somehow foolish. A great boar yes, but a normal boar?
Scary bastards.
Scythe got to his feet and set off into the forest, keeping an eye out for any sturdy branches and dry material that he could use to make fire. He desperately needed to get warm and quickly. Arming himself with a knobbled piece of wood that felt like it would make a decent enough club, he kept his eyes moving as he walked, well aware that a moment of inattention could spell his end and not wanting to find himself on the receiving end of a boar’s tusks, or worse.
Breaking through into a thicket of trees he found a tiny glade, surrounded on all sides by thick firs. Nodding to himself Scythe swept out the pile of branches and debris from under the largest tree, collecting it in a small pile for later use, and then began hauling in larger branches to rest against the trunk to form a basic lean-to. Once done he stripped some of the bushier fir branches and entwined them through the logs until he was satisfied that it would provide a decent level of protection from any errant gusts that made it through the surrounding trees. Just outside of his shelter he collected all of the swept-up items into a little pile and started making the basics for a fire.
A small gust drifted through as he worked and he shivered violently before redoubling his efforts. With the amount of dry tinder and wood available he quickly had a small flame going, its warmth sending thrills of pleasure through his frozen body. As he settled down to defrost himself he reached up for a couple of the fir cones and detached them from the branch. Cassius once told me the seeds were edible, he mused as he set about opening the cone, I really hope he wasn’t joking.
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Ella
Ella loaded, twirled and fired at the cavern wall, cursing again as the rock went wide from her intended target. She had used slings before but never one that she had formed out of cord she had wound from bark fibre. So far though it was holding up and she was confident that given a few more practice shots she would understand the quirks of her new weapon and then the small creatures of the forest would have reason to tremble.
After finding a small stream and drinking her fill she had attempted to hunt rabbits for the majority of the previous day but their quick steps and well-hidden burrows had ensured that they eluded her. The silver lining of
her misadventures however was that her journey had helped her find the bark of a tree that now formed the sling she had spent the majority of the evening making by flickering firelight. Given enough time she had plans to make cord for snares, so even the fleet footed rabbits couldn’t escape.
Crack.
Another rock, this time a little closer to where she intended. A grim smile.
Crack.
Again.
Crack!
Again!
Satisfied that she had a functioning tool and confident that she could place a rock in the direction she wished it to go she stepped outside and went on the hunt, armed with spear and sling in one hand and a couple of rocks in the other.
Seven misses and forty sailor worthy curses later Ella succeeded in striking a rabbit a glancing blow with a small stone, stunning it for long enough for her to run over and stab it with her spear. Jubilant at her victory Ella picked up the rabbit and slung it over her shoulder to carry back before pausing for a moment and sniffing the air. She could have sworn that there had been a hint of smoke on the wind but after a few minutes of searching the sky with no more scent forthcoming she moved on, taking a slightly different path back to her cave to log any more useful materials as she passed. She had food, she had fire and she had shelter. She gave a wild grin, who said surviving off the land was hard?
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Scythe
“Get off you little bastard!” Scythe roared with a furious swing of his club. The wolverine snarled as it danced out of the way before coming back to latch onto the corpse of Scythe’s prey. The goose had been drinking from the brook and its arrogant nature had spelled its end as Scythe’s club met its skull. Happy with the kill, Scythe had paused for a second to take a drink from the brook and turned around to find the goose being dragged back into the cover of the forest by a very aggressive tiny bear.
“That’s mine, you prick! Mine!” he shouted again as the wolverine continued its backward haul. Keeping its keen eyes on him it didn’t slow or stop, just continued its inexorable pace back into the forest. Somewhat awed by the sheer audacity of the little beast, Scythe swung again, hoping that his display of intended violence would be enough to put it off. The wolverine didn’t bat an eye, somehow knowing that the blow wasn’t going to land. Hunger made him press forward, the club coming down to strike the beast’s side, causing it to wrench a chunk of flesh out of the goose as it went sprawling.
“That’s right, get out of here,” Scythe growled, content that any sane animal would leave before things became too heated. A snarl from the wolverine had him swivelling in surprise as it launched itself at him, sharp claws drawing lines of blood down his legs.
“Get off me you little shit!” Scythe roared, trying to kick it loose but struggling to find any purchase on the scrabbling animal. Awkwardly he brought the base of his club down on the side of its head, hitting once, twice, three times before the animal backed away, its steps unsteady. Scythe pressed his advantage, all thoughts of letting his foe live gone as he raised the club with both hands and swung it down, connecting solidly with its skull with a crunch. The wolverine flopped limply to the floor as Scythe stood over it, breathing heavily. After several gasping breaths he bent down to pick up the goose and then, after a moment's thought, slung the wolverine over his shoulder too. I hate the outdoors, he muttered silently as he began the walk back to camp. Nothing is ever easy.
In the past day he had expanded his lean-to, further covering it with more branches and leaves to try and cover the small gaps that allowed the night time air in, as well as laboriously digging a fire pit to allow for easier cooking. Water he had in close proximity, but food so far had been relatively scarce aside from the plentiful cones that he had in his glade, the seeds of which seemingly hadn’t made him ill yet, something to thank Cassius for when-
No. No I can’t. Cassius is dead. Gone, just like the others.
With a strangled sob Scythe flung his dinner down to the ground and furiously began to pluck the feathers from the goose, doing everything he could to concentrate on the activity at his fingertips rather than the screaming in his mind.
Once the goose was plucked, gutted and cooking over the fire he turned his attention to the wolverine. Its pelt looked thick and warm, and whilst it wouldn’t be enough to cover his torso completely it would be a damn sight better than wandering around naked. With a sigh he picked up the shard of flint that he had been using as a cutting tool and set to work as the smell of cooking goose filled the glade.
“Scythe?”
Scythe shook his head. The nightmares were coming more frequently, even in his daydreams.
A choked sob echoed through the glade. “Oh gods it is you. How are you here?!”
Scythe continued to work, his hands scraping away at the bloody flesh on the underside of the hide with the flint blade, doing his best to remove the excess.
“Scythe? It’s me.” This time a footfall sounded close by and he swivelled, the flint blade extended. In front of him was a face he did not ever think he would ever see again.
“Ella?” he murmured, confusion and wonder in his voice. “But, you’re…?”
“Dead?” the ghost of Ella replied. “As are you, I saw you get killed. All of you get killed.” Her voice trembled as she spoke but she didn’t come any closer, perhaps as untrusting as he that she wasn’t seeing an illusion.
Scythe shook his head. It wasn’t real? It had been so vivid. So lifelike. That couldn’t be true, could it?
“No,” he muttered. “No, you’re not real.”
A small grin broke through the tears trickling down her face. “That’s what I thought at first, but then I wondered why my imagination would have you cooking a goose of all things it could have chosen.” She took a step closer. “Look at me Scythe. A good look. I’m as real as you.”
Scythe did as she asked. She was covered in badly stitched pelts of rabbits, with small pouches hanging off her left side that clinked as she moved, a sling and a spear in one hand. What’s more, he realised with a wrinkle of his nose, she absolutely reeked.
It was the final thing that did it for him. Whilst he was sure his damaged psyche could fool him with images he didn’t believe it would be good enough to replicate such odour. He doubted he smelled much better but the number of small rabbits that Ella had killed and somehow attached to herself made for a thoroughly pungent collection.
He broke into a tentative grin. “It’s good to see you Ella,” he rasped as he stumbled to his feet. Stretching out his hand he wrapped her in a bone crushing hug and cried and cried and cried.
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Ella
“Gods that stinks,” Ella groaned, holding a hand to her nose.
“Almost as bad as you did,” Scythe murmured jokingly, a wolverine pelt wrapped around his shoulders.
“Prick,” she retorted with a grin. “Whilst I might have smelt bad, I looked to be in a much better position than you, Mr ‘I’m so good at living off the land’ Scythe.”
“Not all of us had a cave to start with,” Scythe grumbled darkly. “Just boars and things with sharp claws.”
After their reunion Ella had brought Scythe back to her much more defensible cave, the two of them working hard to improve their weaponry and collect food for winter. Scythe now carried a spear with a fire hardened point and a sling similar to Ella’s and the two of them had spent more time scraping the skins of the animals they had slain along with smoking the furs to try and avoid the cloud of bugs that was attracted whenever they went outside. Armed with their slings they had been a menace to the local game and fowl population, on average scoring a kill out of every three attempts and smoking the meat to try and ensure its longevity.
With their immediate food and equipment problems solved for the past three days they had been scouting the forest, looking for anything that might suggest the presence of someone else. The fact that they had found each other proved that what they had seen hadn’t been real and whilst it didn’t
help with the memories and the nightmares, it gave them the fervent belief that the others would be somewhere close by.
Eight days since waking up they had come into an area of the forest that held lots of damaged and broken trees and a scent that was beyond pungent. One that neither of them remotely recognised, but the amount of damage and the deep claw marks scored in the bark of the trees had them on their guard and moving warily.
A low grunting hoot thrummed through the air and instantly they both tensed, crouching low to the ground. “There it is again,” Ella whispered. “What makes that kind of noise?”
“Whatever it is, it sounds big,” Scythe replied softly. “And we already know that something around here has big claws. What do you think? Go around or see what we are dealing with?”
“I would rather know what we are facing,” Ella said. “It might be that we don’t need to deal with it, but you never know.”
“Know your enemy,” Scythe echoed in approval. He adjusted his grip on his spear and stepped forward with a nod. “Let’s get this done then.” With his practiced eye for tracking he took the lead, Ella following up with her sling at the ready. Some fifteen minutes later they knelt at the top of a small rise, eyes wide at what they saw in the hollow beneath.
“What are they?” Ella whispered in a mixture of awe and horror. “They’re huge!”
“I haven’t a clue,” answered Scythe. “Safe to say that they look bigger than our spears could tackle right now. I suggest we avoid this area unless we absolutely have to be here. They look big enough whilst sleeping so I hate to think what they look like when upright!”
Nodding her head in agreement the two of them made to slip away. Creeping from the overhang they retraced their footsteps, eager to get back to the perceived safety of the rest of the forest. A heavy footfall resonated from up ahead, accompanied by a low grunting hoot, causing them to freeze momentarily in panic. Sniffing sounds filled the air and another footstep thudded, closer this time. Quickly they cut off from their original trail and lost themselves in the deeper undergrowth, hoping that the creature would pass them by.