CHAPTER 14
It was a tree house, and I still refused to go inside it. I sat against the tree with my knees drawn up to my chest, surrounded only by the forest. There was a small stream about thirty feet away, I couldn't see it, but I knew its location from childhood memories. The sound of running water was like mellow music in the oddly still woods. Birds weren't singing; there were no squirrels running amongst the trees. I was terrified the alien's magic ability to freeze things had somehow extended to the animals. How could we stop them if they were able to pull off such a colossal attack?
I could only hope our presence had scared the animals away, or maybe they still hadn't awakened in the early morning hours. I rested my forehead on my knees, trying not to think about it, trying to block everything out but it was almost impossible. Aiden had been right; the tree house was in good shape, excellent even. I didn't think the new homeowners had kept it in such good condition. Aiden and I hadn't disclosed its location when we moved from Cranberry Isle. This was our tree house; neither of us could stand the thought of anyone else playing amongst its walls.
Abby had been too young for the tree house at the time, she had come out here with us once, but I highly doubted she would have remembered how to get here on her own. Abby was many things, but adventurous and handy were not amongst her vast list of attributes. That left only Aiden to keep up the maintenance, and he had done a fantastic job of it. I couldn't believe he’d kept it from me all of these years, but I’d kept plenty from him too.
I lifted my head to gaze up at the wooden structure thirty feet above me. It was nestled in the crook of four large branches of a massive maple. There were three ways to escape the tree house, and two ways to enter it. A metal ladder stretched from the ground up to a hole against the trunk of the tree. The hole was usually left open, but it could be closed and the ladder thrown away if it was necessary.
A rope ladder hung from the other side of the tree, the one closest to the stream. It could be pulled up rapidly, and had been many times when we were younger and under the attack of trolls and other nefarious creatures. The third and final exit was a metal pole that had rusted over the years, but still appeared stable. It had always been my favorite way to exit the fort when in a rush to escape from the imaginary fiends breaching our security. The exits had been for fun when we were kids, now I was glad we had decided to build so many emergency escapes.
I stared at the bottom of the fort but I sensed no movement up there. They must all be asleep. Even Bret had climbed into the leafy bowers, curious about the elaborate fort. I had told him to stay up there for a while. I was amazed he’d actually listened to me. He was terrified for me, I could see that, but he seemed to understand my need for solitude.
I had no doubt he’d return soon though. I rose to my feet and stretched my back as I walked to the edge of the small clearing. Years ago we’d cut the woods back, creating a large area to play in, and a nice path to traverse through the forest. The woods had reclaimed most of the path. Just as the wilderness would reclaim everything that was going to be abandoned, and forgotten when this was over. The world would change; it had changed already. Houses may very well be a thing of the past; the forest would regain the land it had lost over the years, animals would be the new residents of homes. I shuddered at the thought; there would be much for the wilderness to reclaim when this was all done. Maybe even our bodies.
I hated my morose thoughts, but they wouldn't go away. Neither would the heart wrenching anguish of losing my mom. Now that we were stopped and I was alone, I couldn't stop the flood of loss and memories surging through me. Tears didn't streak my face, but hollow, dry sobs racked through my chest and hunched my shoulders as I hugged myself. She had gone fast; they hadn't gotten a hold of her. I kept telling myself this, kept trying to reassure myself with those thoughts, but it didn't ease the knot of anguish searing my chest.
This wasn't the trauma of my father's death. Losing my mother had been shocking, and yes this whole thing was traumatizing, but I hadn't been with her at the instant of death. I hadn't seen the suffering and fear. I hadn't seen the worry for me, for her family. I hadn't seen death clouding my mother's gaze, as I had with my father.
I sharply veered away from those thoughts; they would only lead to places I never wanted to travel to again. Dark places, and an even gloomier and despondent version of me than I ever wanted to know again. I paced to the edge of the clearing, tugging at my hair as I wrapped it around my finger. The honey color of it was nearly brown with dirt, sweat, and residue from the antique store. I would have given anything for a shower as I could barely stand the smell of myself anymore.
My last memory of the stream as a child told me it was small. I imagined it would seem even smaller as an adult, but at least it was something. I glanced back at the tree house. The small shutters had been drawn over the three windows, blocking out the sun so they could make an attempt at sleep.
I slipped through the forest, shoving aside bull briar, grape vine, and branches as I made my way to the stream. I was bleeding and sweating even more by the time I broke free of the woods and stumbled upon the stream. It was smaller than I remembered, but also one of the most wonderful things I'd seen in awhile.
I hastily kicked off my sneakers and socks and shed my filthy clothes. The stream was a little above my knees as I waded in and dropped down to sit upon the rocky bottom. The cold water washed deliciously over my heated, filthy skin. Closing my eyes I fell back in the stream, allowing it to engulf me. I opened my eyes to stare out at the world through the blurry haze of water above me. It was beautiful; the sky was as pristine and clear as the water trickling over my head. My lungs began to burn, but I stayed under, trying to pretend the world was as perfect as it seemed from beneath the surface.
Unfortunately, I didn't have gills. I burst free of the water, gasping for air as I tried to fill my lungs. I wasn't safe here, I knew that, but I couldn't drag myself from the cool stream. It was the only sliver of peace I’d found in a while. Pulling my knees against my chest, I rested my chin upon them and closed my eyes.
Ravenous (Book 1, The Ravening Series) Page 16