The Long Walk Home

by Ison, S. A.

  He saw Dustu lay out his bowstring. It must be useless. He pulled out his own and since it was synthetic, he could use it. He nodded at Dustu and lifted his bow. Dustu came over and examined the bowstring and shook his head in amazement. Beckett grinned and strung the longbow and pulled at the string and it made a twang sound.

  He handed over the bow to Dustu who took it and grinned. He took Beckett’s damp quiver and disappeared into the woods.

  “Gave him your toy?” Zoe asked, smiling.

  “Yeah, and honestly, I’m just too damned exhausted to hunt. Christ, that wore me out. I’m out of shape, I’m telling you.”

  “Cut yourself some slack Beckett, you had Christy on your back and all our packs pulling at your waist. Speaking of, let me put some salve on that. It’s for blisters, so I think it will make that raw mark feel better.” Zoe said and squatted down at her bag. She pointed at his shirt and he tugged it up. She opened a small jar and got a dollop on her fingers and began to gently put it around his waist.

  Her fingers were light and delicate on his wound. He tried not to jerk and found that the ointment didn’t sting. He let his body relax and enjoyed her touch. He smiled down at her head. Her mouth was tight in concentration. She wasn’t beautiful, but extremely pretty. She was petite and had impish features. She looked up at him then and caught his scrutiny. He blushed and she grinned and waggled her eye brows at him, causing him to laugh.

  “How is Christy? Is she warm enough? I was worried about her.”

  “She’s fine Beckett, tired. I think she’ll be sleeping early tonight. I think I’ll fix her dinner now. I don’t think she’ll last until Dustu comes back with meat. I think you should heal without a mark.”

  “Yeah, she looks a little blurry eyed. Thank you for caring for her. And thanks for patching me up.” He grinned down at her.

  “Hey, we take care of each other. She’s sweet and no trouble at all.” Zoe shrugged and turned, pulling out her kettle. She then dug around in Christy’s pack and pulled out a packet of dried chicken fettuccini alfredo. She also pulled out a can of chicken. While she did that, Beckett filled all the water bottles. He drank deeply from the river, using his straw. Thank god he didn’t have to wait until it was boiled.

  At least he didn’t have to take a bath tonight, he’d had enough of the frigid water. When he got back to his own time, he was going to take a long hot bath. And when he moved to Alaska, he’d make damn sure he’d have hot water aplenty for as many hot baths as he wanted. He’d rig up some kind of solar heating system along with a propane tank. He’d been saving his money, so he’d go all out. He was now finding what the most important things were in his life and a hot bath was at the top of that list.

  He came back and sat down, he saw that the others were as tired as he. He also saw Dustu coming back, a huge grin on his face. A small deer over his shoulders, skinned out. The man fairly floated above the ground. Zoe laughed beside him.

  “I think he’s in love with your longbow.”

  “He’s already got my knife. I’m not sure, but I guess when I leave here, Dustu will be inheriting a few things.” He laughed.

  Dustu set to butchering the meat and cut steaks and JP, Wyatt and Carter pulled out their pans and put oil in them. Zoe got a bottle of dried onions and dried garlic set them to soak in water. Beckett also got out a pan and the small bottle of oil. Christy had finished eating and was now half asleep sitting up. He smiled gently as he set her tent up and ushered her inside. He tucked her into her sleeping bag and she was asleep before he even zipped it up.

  He sat back as he watched as Zoe spiced the meat. Beckett handed her a bag of rice and she set the water to boiling and added the rice. His stomach growled, he was starving. He’d used a lot of his energies getting across that river. His pants were looser now and hung on his hips. He’d have to put an extra hole in the belt soon.

  The smell of the sizzling venison steaks, nearly drove him mad. The steaks popped and sizzled loudly and he could see the caramelization of the meat and he knew it would be wonderful. He got up and went about gathering more firewood. He wanted to snatch the meat and chew it raw. Dustu was cutting up pieces of the meat and hanging them along one of the metal trekking poles. When he got back, he sat down after depositing the wood to the pile.

  Zoe and Evie began to fill plates and handed them out. Dustu took his and Beckett took his own. He had to hold himself back from wolfing it down. It tasted heavenly. He could smell the sesame seed oil and he thought some sweetness. He looked over at Zoe, he grinned.

  “You’re a damned fine cook, Zoe.”

  “Thanks, it’s a kind of Korean bulgogi, just a bit modified. Using venison instead beef.” They both looked at Dustu was chewing through the meat and rice. He looked up and grinned at both of them, his cheek full.

  “Wado, ostu! Thank you, good!”

  “He said thank you and he said it’s really good.” Beckett grinned over at her, his dark brows waggled. She blushed prettily.

  Becket helped himself to more of the meat, hanging from the poles. Everyone began to slow down and soon the camp was getting ready for the night. It was still light out but everyone was devastatingly exhausted. Beckett went with the women and they all took care of their business.

  Dustu piled wood on the fire, and sparks flew out. The heat radiated off fire and Beckett’s eyes grew heavy. He gave it up and crawled into his sleeping bag. He was gone before he could zip it up.

  XX

  Dustu was torn between the emotional states of exhaustion and exhilaration. The between ghost people were keeping up and he thought doing well. He’d heard stories of the between people crying and complaining throughout the whole journey. Some of the ghost people had wanted to stay, and so the guiding warrior let them, and then, once the others were gone to the other side, he’d killed the between ghost people. None were allowed to stay. He was hoping he would not be faced with this problem. He was beginning to like these people, especially Beckett. It made his heart glad that the man was Tsalagi, Cherokee, it gave him hope and proved that the People were extraordinary humans.

  Were these between people of his own blood? Were they what his people’s future held? Was that why the between ghost people must keep it a secret? Would more of them come, perhaps with the shiny thunder weapons? One of those weapons could easily kill his whole tribe. A shiver swept through him. His elders spoke of many whites who’d come through the between, but these were different people, several colors, some close to his own. They seemed to exist in friendly companionship.

  He wondered what would happen, if his land were filled with the whites? Was that what happened to Beckett? Was Beckett’s family whited out? Were there any People left? He would ask Beckett and hoped the man could understand. Perhaps he’d get a hint of the future of his own people.

  Beckett’s longbow was finely made and well balanced. He’d been amazed at the bowstring. His own would dry and be useful, but the river had wet it too much. The strange arrows and bow worked well and were true in their aim. He had examined the arrows and all amazingly straight. No imperfections and were smooth to the touch.

  These between people had so many amazing things, yet disregarded them as he did his own tools. The tiny black box, that looked like a stone, had music inside of it. It had moved him to his soul. It was like nothing, in his experience that he could even explain. He’d watched Beckett attach the musical stone to the light box. Beckett said it made it work better. He didn’t understand. At night, Beckett let him listen to it and Dustu fell asleep with the beautiful music in his ears. When he woke in the morning, the little stone was quiet.

  Then, Beckett would attach the stone to the light box and once more, the stone had music. He sighed. He would miss these people. Even with all the tragedies, they had humor with them. They had kindness to each other. That coward had died in a bad way, yet Beckett had grieved. As had the others in the group. Did this make them weak? Did it make them strong? His own people were a sentimental people.


  The People were especially attached to their children. With the care that these people paid to the little girl, it would seem that they too, cared very much for their children. He shivered thinking of the four warriors he’d seen on the rocks above. He was sure that they would have hurt the women and child and most assuredly, killed all the men.

  Those were the flesh eaters. They sometimes ate their captives, though it was said, only in the winter, the time of empty bellies. His people knew enough to stay well away from their territory. He hoped that Inola stayed well away from them. He was sure his friend would. He was a crafty tracker and a lone man. He could become invisible within a few feet of a foe. He grinned at the thought.

  He and Inola had played as children, stalking each other and hiding from each other. It had been fun and Inola had always been the best at that game. Dustu missed his wife and son and hoped to see them in two moons. He was sure his small son had grown while he’d been gone. He missed his wife’s laughter. He’d be finished with his task soon, and soon, he’d head home.

  He would miss these strange people and their amazing things. But he missed his family and his people. He never wanted to travel like this again. He would stay close to home with his loved ones.

  Ten

  The wind whipped around them as they made their way up once more. Beckett could do without the uphill climb. His thighs were screaming and poor Christy was lagging. The sun was peeking behind clouds that were thinking very hard about dropping rain. Beckett hoped it would hold off, the rocks were slick already with late morning dew. Below them, the breathtakingly beautiful canopy of the vast forest, seemed to stretch on forever.

  He wondered if those warriors were even now down there, with their painted faces. He hoped they wouldn’t run into them. Beckett didn’t know much, but he’d been told by his granny, that when warrior’s sported paint, they weren’t out to make friends. He wasn’t worried for himself, but for his friends. He had his Glock, and that would take care of the problem, however, they wouldn’t know the men were there until an arrow embedded itself into someone.

  You couldn’t tell where an arrow came from, it made no sound. If the men were hidden, then his group could be picked off. No, they didn’t need to linger. Dustu had been correct when he said the journey was long and dangerous. He could only hope they had no more mishaps, nor run-ins with other Indians. He was amazed that Dustu could lead them so confidently through this area.

  Dustu had admitted he’d never been here, but had been given instructions. He shook his head. Christ, he’d have needed a map and a compass in order to find his way to the grocery store. He’d always had a bad sense of direction. Apparently, he’d not inherited that from his Native American side. No, he was grateful that Dustu was leading them.

  Dustu stopped ahead and Beckett walked up to him. He looked to where Dustu pointed and he felt a deep chill fill him. They were to walk a thin ridge that plummeted down into a deep ravine.

  “Ganiyegv anagisdi geyatahi, dangerous, go carefully.”

  “Nudale galohisdi? Another way?” Beckett asked, his heart racing with fear.

  “Vtla, no.” he answered simply.

  “Shit, okay guys, listen up. We have to go along this ridge. He says it’s the only way. I want us to use the paracord once more and to attach to each other.”

  “Is that the safest way?” JP asked, looking around.

  “No, but I don’t know what else to do.” Beckett said.

  “How about we hold onto the rope, in the loops. Keep well separated. But Not attached it to everyone, maybe three or four feet apart.” Wyatt suggested.

  “Okay, but I want two men to each woman. Me and you, Zoe and Christy.” Beckett suggested.

  “Okay, Evie, JP and Lucas, since Lucas’s arm might not work. Maybe put him in the middle.” Wyatt suggested.

  “Then Astrid, Carter and Noland.” Beckett ended.

  Everyone nodded and began to pull out the paracord and make looped knots. They strung the lines out.

  “Everyone checks their gear. Make sure nothing is loose that would throw you off balance. This wind is gusting, so watch your footing.” Wyatt called out. He was the most experienced hiker among them, as well as the oldest.

  “I’m going to attach Christy to me. I don’t think she’ll have the strength to hold onto the rope, should she fall.” Beckett announced. He squatted before the little girl and smiled.

  “I’m making you my hiking buddy. I’m going to tie you to me, so if you slip, don’t you worry, I’ve got you, okay?”

  “Okay Mr. Beck.” She grinned at him. She lifted her arms and he looped the paracord around her slender waist. He made sure the loops were snug, but not tight. She’d not slip through it. He then attached the rope to his waist. He felt the burn beneath, from when he’d towed the backpacks across the river. He’d have to have Zoe apply more salve later. Wyatt was in the lead, then Zoe, then him, he’d have Christy behind him.

  Behind Christy was Carter, Astrid and Noland. JP, Evie and Lucas followed. Dustu would take the lead, but he’d not hold the rope. Beckett was sure the man didn’t need to, he was like a mountain goat, very sure footed. He nodded to Dustu to begin across the narrow path.

  Wyatt began walking, holding onto the rope, followed five feet behind was Zoe. Beckett was glad everyone watched the placement of their feet. It was a long walk across. He gritted his teeth when he felt the buffeting of the wind and he heard Christy’s shifting and grunting. He glanced over his shoulders and was happy to see Carter helping to keep her balanced.

  If Christy fell, she’d jerk him, but he hoped not drag him over the side. Carter could grab her or him. But it would be a chain reaction and he’d not want everyone pulled over the steep edge. The sun came back out and he could feel the heat of it burning his face. Sweat broke out on his back. Christ, he hated heights. He felt the smaller rocks slip from under his shoes. He wondered if he should have gone barefooted.

  He didn’t look down and kept telling himself, not to. His eyes had other ideas, however and kept glancing down. His mouth was cotton dry and he tried to swallow, but his throat seemed to close up. He looked ahead and Dustu was walking, his body relaxed. Beckett envied the man his calm. He’d not seen the man overly anxious nor excited, except for the sight of his knife and the music.

  His foot slipped and he caught himself, his heart slamming into his chest, painfully. He needed to keep his mind focused on the task at hand and not daydreaming. Christ, it would be his luck if he had a heart attack up here. All he wanted was to get home.

  He gritted his teeth and could feel the pull of Christy behind him. It was pulling him off balance and he had to correct himself. His hands were sweaty and he clenched his fist and wiped his hands on his pants. In the back of his mind was screaming, there are no hospitals, there is no help so don’t fucking fall!

  Each step placed was carefully placed. Then his world went spinning, he was jerked forward and saw as Wyatt slipped, pulling Zoe with him and in turn, pulling himself along. He screamed and it joined and mingled with theirs. He heard screaming from behind and the tight jerk of the rope around his waist, knowing Christy’s life was tied to him and should he die, she’d die as well. He’d tied that fucking knot tight!

  He held onto the rope that held Zoe, and Wyatt. He could feel his body being pulled off the side of the mountain. He looked down into Zoe’s horrified eyes, she was screaming but he couldn’t hear it. His own screams filled his ears. Below her was Wyatt who was hanging onto the rope, hanging in space, he was unable to get a purchase on the rock. His legs kicked wildly, and the rope sawed crazily against the rocks.

  Beckett could feel someone or a couple of people were holding on to his legs. He felt his body being pulled forward and back by others behind. He hoped they were untying the umbilical to Christy, should he plunge to his death. He saw that Wyatt was now holding Zoe’s foot and he was clawing at her, trying to crawl up her.

  Beckett saw that her fingers were slipping from the rope
loop. It wouldn’t be long before she’d lose her hold on the rope and she’d plunge down into the gorge. Tears were trailing down her face, and he saw that she’d stopped screaming. She was staring at him. Sorrow in her eyes and fear and acceptance. He wanted to scream no. She knew she was going to die.

  “You’re pulling her down Wyatt, let go of her foot!” Someone screamed, he didn’t recognize the voice. He could feel Dustu beside him, pulling on the rope and trying to pull Zoe up. The ledge was too narrow for more than one person at the rope. Could they all hold the rope, they could easily pull both of them up. But it was only he and Dustu that held the rope.

  He watched in horror as Zoe’s fingers, now white with stress, beginning to slip farther. Her eyes never left him, and then the body fell, but it wasn’t Zoe, Wyatt let go and plunged to his death, far below. He heard the screams behind him, but all he could do was look into Zoe’s eyes. He and Dustu pulled the rope as quickly as they could, before her fingers lost their strength.

  Zoe was within grasp when her fingers let go, too week to hold on. He screamed and his hand shot out to try to catch her but he couldn’t. He felt Dustu fall onto his back and the Cherokee grabbed onto her slender arm. He saw the man’s nails dig into the tender flesh. Beckett reached a hand out and grasped her hand. He pulled her and with Dustu’s help, he pulled her up and onto the ledge.

  Her body scraped along the rocks as they pulled her up. She was weeping now, nearly hysterically. Beckett pulled her into his arms and held her tight and bit back the tears. His heart was beating so hard, he could hear nothing else. He could feel hands on him and they were squeezing his shoulders. He looked up and Dustu and reached a hand out to squeeze the man’s shoulder tightly.

  He could say nothing. He was profoundly grateful that Zoe had been save, however, deeply saddened at the loss of Wyatt. The man had disappeared below, the canopy of trees swallowing his body as it plunged underneath. They could not save both, and damned near saved neither. It took great effort to pull himself together.