Theron was right beside me. "This is exhilarating!"
"It is, isn't it?"
He put on a burst of energy and pushed past me—challenging me.
"Okay, soldier boy," I breathed. "It's on."
We were running so hard that tree branches bent, bowed and whipped at our bodies. I measured my breath for distance. Tree trunks whizzed past us at a dizzying speed. Neither of us let up. We got to a creek and plowed right through with abandon. Balancing on the slippery rocks was a real workout in dexterity. We got to the other side and ascended up the bank. We were pretty much neck and neck, though he had a slight lead on me. Our fingers and hands clawed and sunk into the earth. Our knees collided painfully with protruding stones. We made it to the top at almost the same time and fell breathless to the grass. Hot sweat stuck our shirts to our skin and matted our hair to our heads. We looked toward each other and started laughing.
"That was fun," he said between breaths.
I rolled over onto my stomach and propped myself on my elbows. "Theron Hawk, right?"
"Mhm, Hawk. You never told me your last name."
"Nope, I guess I didn't," I teased, and then leaped up and tore off at breakneck speed across the clearing we had ascended into. I knew the lake was right over on the other side. I didn't waste energy or time turning to see if he was gaining—I just assumed he was. When I got there, I charged into the still, glassy water, submerging my entire body, clothes and all. It felt so good.
Theron stopped on the bank. "So that's the game you're going to play?"
I shrugged my shoulders and lifted my nose with elite aristocratic snobbery.
He laughed, shed his hooded sweatshirt and shoes and plunged in after me. I swam as fast as I could in the opposite direction. I turned my head for just a second to see his position. He spied me and dove—torpedoing through the water toward me. I screamed in surprise as his hand clasped over my ankle. He was fast.
He reemerged to the surface with my ankle in his hand like a trophy. Drops of water dripped from my drenched jeans while he inched my leg higher and higher, threatening to knock me off balance.
"No!" I whined.
"Give," he warned.
"Not a chance! I don't care—I'm already wet," I told him pompously.
"Then I'll just hold your leg up here for the rest of the day until you tire or cramp up. I'm sure that will be very comfortable."
I made a quick yank at my ankle, but he had me in a vice-like grip.
"Un-uhn." He shook his head and looked very delighted with himself.
I twisted and sunk myself into the water hoping I could maybe trick him into letting go. Nope, he wasn't having it.
"Catten!" I said, coming back up for breath and regaining my balance awkwardly.
"Freya Catten?"
"Yes!"
He let my ankle go, and I assaulted him with a water storm. He countered, skimming the whole of his forearm across the water's surface, drenching me further. With both hands, I went at him with everything I had until he was so soaked he could hardly open his eyes.
"Truce!" he shouted at me and laughed as he put his head underwater and started to swim away from me.
"Coward!" I called after him. I realized the word left my mouth the moment he had come back up for air.
He completely heard me and doubled back after me again.
"Kidding! I'm just kidding!" I screamed. "Truce, remember?"
He smiled that knee-melting smile and did the backstroke across the lake.
I took the chance to get cleaned up. I got out of the water and brought all my stuff to the edge so it would be within easy reach. I turned to see where Theron was. He looked like a dot on the other side of the lake. I mixed up my hair color and took off my shirt, leaving my bra on. I stripped down to my underpants, shimmying out of my wet jeans—which wasn't easy—and saturated my red locks with light brown dye. It was only a ten minute tint so the time went by quickly. I had taken along my pot so I could pour water over my head onto the grass. I still felt like I should apologize to the environment, but it was the best I could do. I stood over next to some bushes to hide my form from Theron, leaned my torso forward and started pouring pots of lake water over my hair and into the grass, painting it brown.
When the water ran clear, I flipped my head back up, got my shampoo and conditioner, waded into the water and scrubbed myself from head to toe. After I rinsed under the water, I massaged conditioner into my scalp and hair. When I was finished drying off, I put on a pair of black jeans and a blue embroidered hippie shirt. I called out to let Theron know I was done. He came back over and I tossed him his body wash.
"I'll give you some privacy." I turned, marched up and over the ridge with my stuff and plopped down in the grass with my face toward the sun.
A few moments later I heard some rustling in the brush. I peered over and spied a flock of pheasants. Slowly, so as not to startle them, I removed my recurve, loaded a bolt, took a breath, pulled back the string, aimed and shot. The arrow sliced right through the bird's neck. It dropped instantly. The others flew away, scattering through the air.
"I'm sorry to take your life little one," I spoke gently over the fowl. "But I thank you for the offering of your body for our nourishment. Thank you, Spirit, for this gift." I removed my bolt and wiped it clean in the grass. Then I unhitched my hatchet, lopped off the bird's head in one smooth blow and let it bleed out over the ground.
"So you believe in God?" Theron's voice spoke behind me.
"I was taught to hunt by the Blackfeet. My mother and I lived on their lands and became part of their community for a while. They have a great respect for the Spirit, the earth and all living things." I thought for a moment. "I believe in something bigger than me. You?" I twisted around to look at him.
He was wearing a pair of blue gym shorts with a wide black stripe down each side and a form fitting black T-shirt. His hair was still damp from being washed.
He shrugged. "Haven't made up my mind."
Back at camp, we hung out our wet clothes to dry over a few low branches. I went about gutting and cleaning the bird, which was much like dressing the fish only I sliced it with my hunting knife into two parts. It was easier to gut and faster to cook that way. The real pain was plucking feathers. But, because I wasn't interested in eating its skin, I continued to use my knife to separate its skin from its body—feathers and all came off quickly and easily.
Theron enjoyed building fires. He built one up and I slid the spit pole through the pheasant halves and left them to roast.
"This will take a while to cook," I said. "Would you check the fishing lines and the snares while I get some of our stored food?"
"Sure."
We walked in separate directions. An animal had tried to get into the Ursack last night. I smiled at the fabric's toughness as I took it down. Small muddy raccoon prints were all over the bag, but he couldn't break through. I removed a couple of nutritional bars, just in case we caught no fish.
When I got back to camp, Theron was cleaning two nice-sized trout.
"Good catch," he said when he saw me approach. "Your snare also got a bird. I did what you did earlier, including your prayer over it and hung it over there." He lifted his knife to the right.
"It's a grouse. A lot like the pheasant."
"I re-laid the snare and put the lines back into the water."
"You're pretty good at this!" I exclaimed.
"I have a good teacher."
"Thanks." I turned feeling warm. "Where's your water bottle?"
"Right there." He indicated the rock it sat on.
I'm going to purify some water for us. Thanks for building the fire."
"No problem."
I filled the pot with creek water and set it into the flame to boil. While that heated, I filled his bottle and my bladder with the same creek water and dropped in a chemical water treatment that would make the water ready to drink in half an hour.
Theron cooked the fish in the pan while I
sliced the fruit. When the water in the pot rolled to a boil, I removed it from the fire to cool. We sat and ate our meal, listening to the nearby babbling water, the crackling fire and the birds and crickets chirping, and everything felt very right.
"Now to fulfill a promise," I declared as I stood up, walked to the tent and retrieved my iPod and its compact docking station. I set it on a log in the sun to charge along with my flashlight and mini-lantern.
Then I was faced with a very strange dilemma. Which song should I play for him first?
This was an important experience—I wanted to make it memorable and perfect. Before I could decide, the iPod chose for me, selecting from my song list.
A guitar riff sang through the speaker, then the vocal chimed:
I'd give up forever to touch you…
The Goo Goo Dolls—one of my favorites. Theron closed his eyes and listened breathlessly.
After the chorus broke, he breathed, "It's… " —he grappled for the right word without opening his eyes—"passionate."
I watched him. He was so full of awe from the experience; I couldn't help but join him. I closed my eyes too and, before I knew it, I was singing along with the lead singer.
When I opened my eyes, I found Theron staring at me. "I'm sorry," I said sheepishly. "It's one of my favorites."
"Don't be. You sing beautifully." He shook his head a little. "I wouldn't have guessed you could do that too."
The song ended too quickly. "Can you play it again?" Theron asked anxiously.
I nodded, happy he was so pleased. "As many times as you want," I assured him and played it again and again.
The third time through I asked, "Would you like to dance?"
"I've never danced before." His voice was slightly unsteady. I had watched him throw a knife with deadly accuracy into the flesh of an opponent with no hesitation, and now he was going to be nervous?
I stood over him and offered my hand. He took it and got to his feet. I positioned myself about a ruler's length in front of him, then held my breath as I closed the gap.
"You place your hands here." I put both of his hands on my hips.
"I like dancing already," he said with a smile that filled even his eyes.
"Don't be fresh," I scolded playfully. Then I put both of my hands onto his shoulders.
"Now, I definitely like this."
I smiled. I liked it too.
"Now we sway." I gently rocked us back and forth and moved my feet nice and slowly.
He checked his stance and loosened up when he realized he had tensed. He looked into my face with an expression I couldn't name. Then he closed his eyes and sunk his fingers deeply into the muscles at my waist. The action took my breath away.
Intensity. The expression on his face had been intensity.
I closed my eyes, feeling it too, and involuntarily slipped my hands up onto the nape of his neck—my fingers tangled into his dark, loose hair.
What are you doing? But the music continued to play, and I had been so broken—and obviously so had he. He was strong and overwhelming, and for this moment… just for this one moment, I wanted to allow myself to get lost in his arms, lost in his power. It was—just a song—just a moment.
His forehead touched mine. Our faces were impossibly close.
Slightly frightened, I laid my cheek on his collarbone. He pulled me in closer to him.
The song ended and an upbeat song began. Neither of us moved. I realized my breathing had become shallow and ragged.
"That was—good—dancing," I said, my words tumbling out.
"Yeah," he agreed as he stared at me with that same intensity.
"I'll show you how to work the iPod and change the songs," I said breaking the spell.
The rest of the afternoon and into the night, Theron played song after song after song while I meandered around the camp doing various chores. He asked me questions and I filled his head with band and music trivia.
When it was time to turn in for the night, he declined with a sheepish grin. "I'd like to play with this some more," he said, indicating the iPod.
"Okay—goodnight." I lay in my bag, listening to him change songs. Each time he landed on one he really liked he would play it over and over again. I had to laugh.
I just gave him the gift of music, I thought. Pretty cool.
I closed my eyes as he selected "Iris" again—the Goo Goo Dolls' song we had danced to. I thought of his deep eyes and pale, apple-colored lips just inches from mine as he held me close, protecting me.
Sleep didn't come for a long time.
~
In the next few weeks, Theron and I did everything together. In addition to morning runs, we also hiked through the forest. He had never been camping and approached everything with childlike enthusiasm. I taught him the names of plants, flowers and trees and which plants were richly edible, perfect for foraging. I explained to him how he should avoid mushrooms altogether because too many toxic mushrooms mimicked edible ones. I steered him toward plants without poisonous copycats.
We plucked fat round pine cones from the trees around us and plunked them into my harvest bag. Later, we would roast and eat their inner seeds. A big bunch of dandelion greens were easy to obtain. They grew all over the place. I showed him how to dig with a spoon around the plant and how easy it was to yank it up out of the earth while keeping the edible leaves and roots intact. We found fragrant patches of sweet clover. I explained that I personally liked them better raw as a salad, but you could cook them too.
Having someone to be with dissolved the sometimes crippling paranoia that came with being utterly alone in the middle of nowhere—with no one watching out for you or concerned about whether you were alive or dead. With Theron I wasn't merely surviving, I was actually living. The isolation was replaced with the warmth of companionship.
One morning I woke up to find he had designed a vase by wrapping pieces of bark together with twigs, and he had picked the most vibrant and gorgeous bouquet of wildflowers for me.
He couldn't get enough of my music and played it as often as possible. He was like a kid in a candy store who, having never tasted sugar a day in his life, was given a hundred dollar bill and told to go for it!
Each morning brought a new hue of life across the forest—the bird songs were more cheerful, butterflies flitted from flower to flower, hummingbirds hovered in midair and dragonflies played tag over the waters.
We were getting low on food again, so I announced to Theron that we needed to harvest to add to our supplies. I grabbed my harvest bag, and we walked out onto dew covered grass that sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight. The scent of dampened earth perfumed the air. It was a fantastic morning, wrapped in mist. We came across a shady spot loaded with fiddleheads. We sank to the ground and sat cross-legged among the early ostrich fern. I showed Theron how to snap the glossy, spiraled fiddleheads from their stalk.
"These are delicious," I said. "Very earthy flavor."
We continued plucking the heads and dropped them into the harvest sack.
"Next week, we'll hike out to the pond and gather cattails and arrowhead roots. They taste a lot like potatoes," I went on. "Everything is fresh. There are no pesticides or modifications. Everything is one-hundred-percent organic. You can totally live out in the wild without much money or conveniences."
"You said the Takers have never found you out here in the forest before?" Theron asked.
"No, they never have. I have a theory about that."
"What's the theory?"
"I don't think they can track me in here," I began. "See, out in the modern world and general population there are cameras set up everywhere for surveillance: in stores, on street corners, at banks. There are also huge satellites roving in space, picking up images from all over the world and transmitting data to wherever. I put that together a couple of years back. The forests are the safest places I've been."
"Freya?" Theron's voice was suddenly very serious. "What if you and I were to stay here—in t
he forest—and never resurface? Just live here together… off the grid?"
I looked at his face to gauge his expression. He wasn't kidding and he was waiting for an answer.
I found myself wanting to jump, to take the chance. The chance at normal. A real life. I registered the pleading in his eyes. I wanted to say yes. With all of my heart I wanted to say yes. I could have easily fallen in love with him—if I wasn't already in love with him.
My heart palpitated over the very real possibility. My mouth began to form the word yes as I gazed into his compelling brown eyes that could easily become like oxygen to me. But then I heard a voice that sounded just like mine say roughly, "I can't. I have to find my mother."
Chapter 9 Intimate
Theron was quiet. I knew he wanted to understand this enigma that was my mother and my relationship with her. But I had never told a soul. Not one soul. Not even Scarlett, who was her oldest friend and had known my mother before I had been born—before the stories became wild. Now, here was this beautiful boy asking me to reveal my deepest soul to him.
I stopped my busy hands and let my eyes wander to where he was—sitting cross-legged in the wide patch of fiddleheads, only a few feet away from me. He was breaking the deep green heads away from their stalks and dropping them into the harvest bag. His hands were large and strong and he went about harvesting the ostrich fern in a delicate, almost overly-cautious manner, so as not to spoil them. But he looked stormy now—concerned or conflicted. Maybe he was just frustrated with me. Maybe my answer disappointed him. Had he really meant it? Was it more than just an off-the-cuff suggestion?
"How does this look?" Theron's voice broke through my inner musings. "The bag is just about full." He held it open for me to inspect.
"So it is," I said.
We carried our bounty back to camp, and Theron lit a fire. I secured the fiddleheads up in the Ursack. I could hear the iPod playing The Black Keys. I came over to join him.
"Don't sit down," he said as I approached. He stood up to stand in front of me as if to block my way. "Since you've decided to track down your mother I want to teach you some combat moves."
Hunted (Dark Secrets Book 1) Page 8