by A. M. White
“He said she would help,” Cara reassured him.
“I have no reason to believe him. How many times have we been lied to?” He paused. “How many times have we lied?”
“So what, do we don’t go back? Make up another story and ride off in to the sunset, taking Alex with us?” Cara questioned.
“We go back,” he replied, “but keep on our toes. It doesn’t feel right, but I don’t see any way around it.”
“I can’t bear the thought of her seeing him. She will be so disappointed,” Cara said softly.
I already felt that way. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. How could they lie to me after all we had been through?
They gathered their things. Timothy kicked dirt over the fire. I crept back to the bed. My mouth was dry, my mind filled with a thousand thoughts and questions.
I pretended to be asleep. Cara crawled over me and Timothy lay behind me. I waited until they were both asleep before opening my eyes.
Who had sent them? Why were they worried about my safety with him? I calmed myself by remembering that Timothy had sworn to keep me safe from whoever sent for me, if he tried to hurt me. What plans had I interrupted?
I couldn’t stand the feeling of betrayal; every moment that I had felt uncertain about Timothy and Cara came rushing back.
The truth, in finality, was that I was blindly being led into the unknown, by two strangers. Timothy had said that he would protect me, but to what point, especially, if I was getting in the way. I was embarrassed and hurt that I played into their game.
I resolved to leave. There was no way I was being carted back to someone that might have a chance of hurting me. I certainly wasn’t going to stick around and fall for Timothy any more than I had. I was a pawn they had grown attached to.
I slid over Timothy. He snorted, but didn’t wake. I tiptoed over to a bulging sack by the entrance and lifted it on my back. The knife was by the door so I listened to their breathing as I tucked it between the straps of the bag. Their breathing remained even. My boots were the last to be secured.
Carefully, I climbed down the tree. At the bottom, I oriented myself. The sun set straight ahead so the South must be left. I searched the sky for a star I could use as my compass. One star shone blue and twinkled brightly. I turned and walked that way.
South it would be, warmer was better for me in the long run. I could head South and then to the East. I hope that I would find the coast that way. I didn’t want to end up at the same place as I was being taken, but if I went south a bit, I’d be ok.
My leg started acting up after half an hour. I couldn’t understand why it would ache so quickly. The landscape was the same as it had been. The ground was flattening from the hills and slopes we had started the trek across many days ago.
I sat against a tree and pulled up my pant leg. A drop of blood oozed from the bottom of the scar. This scared me; it had never done that before. I tore a piece from the bottom of my shirt and tied it around the wound. I needed to put space between me and the treehouse.
I continued, slower than at first. My leg still bothered me but I trudged forward. After several steps, I reminded myself to listen. That was the key to survival, be aware.
The woods became thicker and it was more difficult to see my guiding star. Blood dripped down my leg making a small puddle in my boot. I retied the makeshift bandage without looking at the wound. It wouldn’t help to confirm the damage.
When I thought I couldn’t walk anymore, I pushed harder. The pain was my companion, as selfish as it was. After passing every few trees, I promised only a few more until I would take a break.
Finally, I gave in to the pain. A hollowed bush would have to be my shelter for the remainder of the night. I squeezed into the low twigs and curled in around my pack. I must’ve put a few miles between me and the treehouse, at least.
I tried to sleep but every noise startled me. A squirrel ran along the limbs above. An owl hooted from its perch. Dried leaves shuffled and then two raccoons squealed.
At dawn, my surroundings became clearer. Many of the trees were pine, straight and tall. Bushes lined any light that made it to the forest floor which was thick with needles.
It seemed that my leg had stopped bleeding during the night. I dug around on the pack swiped from the treehouse. I needed to take an inventory of supplies. I laid the items around me so that I could keep a visual record. There was a filled water bladder, some dried meat, a shirt, a length of rope, and a small tarp. There were a few essentials but none of Cara’s healing concoctions. At least, I had my knife. I stuffed the things back in and chewed a small piece of the meat for breakfast.
Timothy and Cara would realize I left soon, if not already. I resolved to get moving. With the sack slung over my shoulder and knife at my side, I set out.
The morning was brisk and fog clouded the woods. I stepped lightly watching for depressions that might be a trap. Soon, the fog appeared thicker ahead. When I reached it, the smell of smoke became strong.
I pulled the extra shirt from my bag and wrapped it around my face. I traveled from tree to tree, listening for people. When there is smoke, there is fire, I remembered. Out here, fire meant people. My senses were on full alert.
A scream broke through the trees. Birds scattered from their roosts above me. I crouched at the base of the nearest pine. When no cry followed, I crept forward. Sweat beaded on my forehead.
Another blood curdling scream rang out from ahead. It was a woman’s voice, stabbing through my temples. Again, she wailed, louder than I thought humanly possible.
I ran at the deafening sound, it would muffle any noise I made. This scream lasted longer than the others; it gave me time to scurry into an alcove made by a fallen tree and its roots.
I could hear shouting now, a hundred feet or so, from my hiding place. The cries belonged to more than one person, I distinguished them now. Ash and voices floated in the breeze from their direction.
I peered through the tangled roots that protruded from the earth. A blaze enveloped a tree’s base. Four people were positioned strategically around its perimeter.
They wore black military gear, helmets, body armor, and tall boots. They each had a high power rifle pointed up into the branches. My eyes rose to where they pointed, at a treehouse.
My breath lodged in my chest. It was our treehouse. I had walked circles during the night. Growing up, I heard stories about people getting lost in the woods because they walked in circles, unaware of direction. This was where I started. It came crashing down upon me that Cara and Timothy were up there.
“Traitors!” One of the soldiers yelled. “Come down here or burn; it makes no difference to us!”
I sunk to my knees. What was I going to do? They had betrayed me, lied to me. Could I allow them to burn or be captured? Could I live with myself without trying to save them?
My heart raced; my decision was made before I had more time to think. I lifted myself to take a better look. I couldn’t see Cara or Timothy, maybe one of them made it out.
Then Cara screamed and Timothy emerged onto the small landing by the trunk. I felt like the roar hit me. My breath was knocked out of me; my knees were weak. I saw movement behind him and knew Cara was trapped too.
It was up to me to save them. I scanned the floor for something to create a diversion. There was a pile of rocks nearby. Shoving them closer to my hiding place, I picked one up and turned to the stand-off.
“You two turned from us. You both know the world can’t survive with those monsters running the surface any longer. Why fight us?” The same soldier called out.
“I can’t kill them anymore. You made me, Ryan, you made me kill people,” Timothy cried. “There is good in some of them and I can’t allow all of them to die.”
“Timothy, you are an idiot. When did you go soft? You were bred for this,” the soldier yelled. “These humans poisoned the Earth and we will right all of it. You and your sister make no difference.”
“Then why
are you here? Willing to burn us alive?” Timothy spat. The flames climbed higher.
I held the rock waiting for the most opportune moment. A part of me also wanted to hear what Timothy had to say.
“You took our girl,” the soldier shrugged, “but we will still be able to use her, whether she is burned up there or not.” They had to be talking about me. I was their girl? What did that mean?
Timothy yelled, “I would die for her.”
“You may get your wish!” The soldier turned to his comrades, “Light the branches.”
Two of them bent down and opened canisters. This was my moment. I threw the rock as far as I could, behind the furthest soldier.
They all turned as I had hoped. “Go check it out.” The one Timothy referred to as Ryan, ordered.
Two of the men retreated to the tree line. I popped up a second time and threw one at the closest soldiers head. The rock collided with his head. A hollow crack rang out and his legs gave way.
Timothy sprang from the tree crashing upon Ryan. They both crumpled onto the ground. Timothy was on top and raised the knife plunging it down into Ryan.
I ran into the opening to the man I hit. He was unconscious. Timothy and I met eyes as the two others burst through the brush. Timothy pointed his gun and shot the first soldier. The second soldier fired before Timothy did. The bullet missed Timothy.
I charged at the soldier, his eyes wide. He pointed the gun at me and it clicked upon pulling the trigger, misfiring.
I didn’t have time to think or absorb the finality of my strike. I just slashed the knife into him. He dropped to the ground screaming. I didn’t even look at what I had done. I fell to my knees. Timothy sprinted past me to finish my messy job. The screaming stopped.
Cara appeared on the landing. “Timothy!” Her voice cracked.
He ran toward the tree. I forced myself to go to where he stood.
“You have to jump!” He told her.
“I can’t, it’s too high,” She yelled.
“I’ll catch you. Do it!” He demanded.
She looked from him to me and let go of the railing. In midair, she screamed the same way that brought back my memories of the roar. Timothy caught her and rolled onto the ground, dumping them into a heap.
For a moment, we all just breathed. Cara sat up first, brushing herself off, and cursing.
She stood and gave me a look of hatred, “Did you rat us out?”
I stuttered, “Are-are you serious?”
Timothy interrupted, “Cara, she just saved both of us.”
“Then why in the world was she not with us?” Cara exclaimed.
Anger rose inside of me and poured out.
“Maybe, because I heard your conversation last night,” I sneered. Both of them looked dumbfounded. “Yeah, I heard about how I don’t fit into your plans. I know about your lies and taking me to someone that might hurt me, so I left. Lucky for you, I am apparently a complete idiot at navigation and walked in circles all night or I’d be long gone.” I slammed my hands into my pockets.
“You heard us?” Cara asked.
“You tried to leave?” Timothy added.
“Yes and yes,” I replied.
Timothy reached for my hand and I snapped it away. “Don’t!”
“I’m sorry, Alex,” Cara apologized. She sat back down.
“I know we need to explain ourselves but we need to get away from here and fast,” Timothy said. “If those guys don’t check in soon, they will send reinforcements.”
“Tell me why I should go with you?” I was on the verge of tears, which made me even angrier.
“If you were here, then you heard me say I would die for you. I meant it, you are more important than Cara and I combined in all of this. The person that commissioned us thinks you have the key to end this,” Timothy exclaimed.
“I can’t digest that right now,” I confessed. A few tears rolled down my cheeks.
Cara pointed at the flames, “I guess we don’t need anything up there, do we?”
“Not bad enough to risk being burned alive,” Timothy said. “Give me a minute to put the bodies in there,” he nodded toward the fire.
“Wait, you are going to burn them?” I gawked.
“They are all dead. Burning them might slow down any searches for us. They will try to find out if any of the bodies were us,” Timothy explained.
The gravity of my part in the deaths of these soldiers came crashing down on me. I sputtered and shook. Cara helped me to my feet. I glanced at the body of the one I attacked. The body was motionless and a pool of blood outlined his torso. I gagged at what I had done.
“I’m going to get her out of here. Do it quick,” Cara commanded.
I limped away from the scene, Cara steadied me. Weaving through the trees, I stumbled along. I heaved a couple more times and produced only my small breakfast. Cara let me take my time but urgency radiated from her.
“It’s ok,” she soothed, rubbing my back. “The first time you kill is like this, for most. I always remind myself that if I had not killed them they would’ve gladly killed me.”
My face twisted, “They weren’t going to kill me. They were going to kill you.”
“Don’t you think for a second that once they were done with us they wouldn’t have hunted you,” she snapped.
“That’s a terrible thank you,” I retorted.
She gave me a wry smile, “Glad to see you still have some wit. Thank you.”
Timothy ran up from behind. “What’s wrong? Why is she limping?” He asked Cara. She shrugged.
“It’s my leg, it started bleeding last night. I didn’t do anything to it,” I answered for Cara.
“We will have a look when we get to a safer place,” he sighed. “Can you run?”
Cara winked at him in response. Timothy hoisted me onto his back. They both broke into a sprint. My head bounced around. I didn’t care enough to lay it on his shoulder. They ran effortlessly through the forest, jumping fallen trees and avoiding thickets.
I was sick to my stomach. I killed someone. My mouth watered at the thought and I muffled sobs from escaping. Timothy’s breath ruthlessly reminded me of what life meant and how I had taken it.
Flashes of the soldier at the moment my knife made impact came whenever I closed my eyes so I forced them to stay open. My surroundings and time became a blur.
As expected, Cara winded first. “I need to rest a little,” she panted and slowed.
“I’m going to go more and I’ll come back for you,” Timothy promised.
He kept pumping his legs. Cara fell behind. I looked back to see the distance grow between us. She had her hands on her knees, gasping for air.
Timothy ran a mile or so before he broke pace. “I’m going to leave you here,” he stated as he propped me against a tree. “I’ll be right back, I promise.” He put a hand on my head as he spoke.
He tore off to retrieve Cara. I hugged my knees to my chest. I was still shaking but had stopped crying. My knife poked me in the back so I pulled it from the straps. I held it in front of me. The blood from the soldier remained on the blade. I tossed it beside me but couldn’t take my eyes from it.
The blood was undoubtedly mole blood, but it was exactly like my own. I don’t know if I expected it to be green or something abnormal. Nonetheless, it made no difference in killing a person or a thing.
Tears welled up once more. I sucked in air and reached for the knife. I cleaned it on the bark of the tree. I didn’t want the blood to make me think about it anymore.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A couple of minutes later, Timothy halted in front of me, Cara riding on his back. She was still breathing heavily. He knelt before me and she slid down and stepped away. His expression was one filled with worry and apologies.
“Can I take a look at your leg?” Timothy asked. He put his hand on my knee.
I nodded. He rolled back my pant leg to expose the bandage made from cloth. It was soaked with blood.
Cara
came closer to get a better look. Timothy untied the bandage and pulled it from the dried scab. I grimaced at it tearing away.
The wound itself wasn’t very big, the scab only an inch or two in diameter. He inspected the opening while Cara dug in her pockets. She produced a small vile of her salve. Timothy’s fingers felt around my scar and pressed upon the raised skin. His brow furrowed in thought.
“This can be fixed for now,” he glanced at Cara and took the vile. I noticed her brow was creased just like his.
“What?” I probed.
“Alex, there is something in your leg. I’m not a hundred percent sure but it might be what our client is looking for,” Cara remarked.
I retracted from Timothy’s touch. I left his hand trembling in midair.
His face was solemn. “I think so, too. I didn’t meet with him but Cara told me that he wanted you because you had something that could stop the killing. I believe it is in your leg,” he muttered.
“I’ve had this scar as long as I can remember,” I defended.
“Alex, you can’t remember how you got it,” Cara pointed out. “It may have been implanted during a roar and you would never know. I’ve seen them manipulate memories and time.”
“Why?” I panicked, “What is it?”
“It feels like a capsule or something,” Timothy replied. “When I pushed on it, it moves. Does it hurt?”
“Not when you touch it. When I walk the pain has been getting worse,” I whined. “I want it out.” I pinched at the spot he had been feeling.
“I can’t take it out. I have no idea what it is exactly or if there is something that could damage you if I were to take it,” Cara cautioned.
“You mean there might be a booby trap?” I croaked.
“There might be. If I remove it out here, there is the natural chance of infection; there could also be unforeseen complications that were put in to place to keep it from falling into the wrong hands,” she revealed. “I will put some of the salve on the scab. I am concerned that your body is trying to push it out. People’s bodies will do that with foreign objects, over time.”