by Anna Oney
I left home to bring back two people, she thought. I've killed one of the two, and the other could be anywhere by now. I'm returning with six strangers. Six. Wow. Just . . . wow.
Sitting in a circle around the fire, they passed the freshly cooked game from one to the other until nothing was left but bones. Swapping horror stories from their journeys, Emma learned that Eleanor's husband had been murdered shortly before she'd even been brought into the picture. Roland and his gang had kept Rudy alive for days, not only separating husband and wife from each other to torture their already distraught minds, but separating him from his limbs, as well.
Emma also found out that the same people who'd promised Nell and his group safety was the same scum they had just killed. Every one of them had experienced the same evil, and if they hadn't had anything in common in the beginning, without a doubt, they did now.
Emma took the first watch, allowing everyone to enjoy their well-deserved hours of sleep. She leaned against the pine tree overlooking their camp, and jumped, startled, when Tom rolled over on his side, wide awake.
"What's the matter?" she whispered.
"Can't sleep." He grimaced. "There's a pinecone digging into my side."
"The struggle is real," she replied, amused. "You better try and get comfortable because we're pushing hard tomorrow. Only a half a day's walk till we hit our land, and then just another day after that. We're close."
"Tell me something I don't know to pass the time."
"Like what?"
"Like, for instance, what happened to the spear tip?" he asked, scooting toward the base of the tree. "There aren't any footprints following you anymore."
"He took it back."
"He? He, who?"
"My invisible stranger." She grunted, easing herself to the ground. "We met."
"What the hell?"
"Shhh, you're gonna wake everybody up," she whispered, elbowing his shoulder. "It's okay if you don't believe me. I know it sounds crazy."
"Doesn't sound crazy at all," he said, forcing their eyes to lock. "Emma, there's something I need to tell you. You're not the only one who's been seeing things. How do you think I was able to find Back Wood?"
"Stop tiptoeing around what's bothering you and spit it out."
"I had a dream; my mother was in it. She told me to go to the woods. She was the one who led me to you."
"If we've experienced these things, then I'm sure others have too."
"I hope so."
"Did she say anything else?"
"Only that I better do my best to get along with you or she'd come back and haunt my ass."
"Oh, really?" She grinned. "So she must like me then?"
"Yes, baby, I believe she does."
Raising a hand to her forehead, Emma brushed away a few imaginary beads of sweat and replied in fake exasperation, "Good. Whew."
***
The next morning, aches and pains hid beneath the surface of their willing-to-start-the-day demeanors. Not a whole lot was said during their early-morning walk. As far as Emma could tell, none of them were morning people, so everyone kept to themselves. Knowing their responsibilities, they had no reason to speak unless they heard or saw something approaching.
They stopped once to share a can of tamales for a late breakfast. Everyone was able to have one apiece. No one complained about eating them cold. The food was slimy and gross, but they savored each bite all the same.
As they approached The Highline, Emma was hesitant to take another step. Knowing one of Heskill's sons stood guard close by, she began scanning the treetops, searching for a well-hidden deer stand.
"It's around here somewhere," she whispered, readying her crossbow to fire.
Tom was the first to spot the dwelling, promptly waving her over. After Emma had joined his side, he signaled for her to stay put so he could clear the area. As he climbed the ladder, she placed a finger over her lips, signaling for the rest of the group to keep quiet. Tom reached the latch, and tilted his head in an attempt to hear movement coming from above.
Shrugging his shoulders, he mouthed, "One, two, three," and opened the door. Thrusting his top half inside, he whispered, "Nothing. There's nothing."
"Maybe he took a break?" Emma asked, climbing the ladder. "Anything of use in there?"
"Not unless you're a perverted, horny teenager." He chuckled, blushing.
Poking her head through the latch, Emma gasped.
"Oh my word." Clamping a hand over her eyes, she tried shielding herself from the massive displays of naked women cut from dirty magazines. "No, no, no."
"I've seen my share of porn." Tom paused, shaking his head. "But this is just sad."
"Well, hurry up and grab anything you think we can use."
"Believe me, there's nothing," he replied, nudging her with the heel of his boot. "Besides, you couldn't pay me enough to touch anything in this cubby full of wet dreams." Fanning his free hand over his nose, he cackled. "Hurry up! It stinks in here!"
"Gross." Stretching her foot to feel for the next step, Emma said, "I can't see a thing."
"Stop covering your eyes then!" Tom said, amused. "You're gonna fall and crack open your skull."
"I'm afraid if I remove my hand I'll see them ginormous fake boobies again."
"Trust me," he scoffed, seeming to make fun of Emma's childish concerns. "You'll be fine."
Company in tow, they began clearing the distance of the treeless stretch of land that separated them from the familiarity of Emma's land. There were too many obstacles keeping them from being able to roll the wheelbarrow across, so Tom and Nell carried it.
As Emma stepped foot on her property, it brought her an overwhelming sense of relief. She was almost home. Trudging forward, Emma noticed the tree where she'd been caught in Reed's trap. Passing it by, she made sure to keep her mouth shut. Bringing him up again would've been a colossal mistake. Emma was sure if she mentioned his name, Tom's anger would shatter the ground beneath them.
The storm they'd experienced had filled the waters of the creek and had increased the speed of its flow. The murky water rushed through the tall walls on each side, drowning out the snakes' homes and widening its path.
After filling their canteen and bottles of water—having boiled the water so they wouldn't get sick—they cooked a can of beans for lunch. They passed the can from one to another as Oliver's innocence won over all of their hearts. The boy seemed to know exactly what to do to make them swoon. The way his smile displayed his dimples and the sparkle in his eyes made Emma wonder what trials and tribulations he would endure later in life. For now the boy was innocent, but no one knew how far that childish innocence would stretch.
They took it one step at a time, and continued to inch their way closer. All the while, Emma couldn't help but think of how she was going to break the news to her parents. Like her, they'd been aware of the risks she'd taken by leaving Back Wood. Believing in the possibility of finding Griffin where they'd only assumed he would be was just as idiotic as Emma thinking she could do this on her own. Surely they understood what a long shot it was. Still, Emma knew returning home without him was going to break their hearts.
"Do you think he's still alive?" Emma asked, interrupting the silence.
"Who?" Tom replied. "Griffin?"
"Yes, for goodness' sake, Griffin."
"It's possible." He paused, fixing the strap on his rifle. "Anything is. That much, I do know."
"How do you think I should tell them?"
"Just tell them the truth. You tried. You stumbled a little and ran into some conflicting dicks screwing up your plans. And the rest, well, I suggest you leave the rest out until you're ready to come to grips with it yourself."
"Yeah, that'd only make it worse."
"How're you feeling, by the way?" he asked, motioning toward her throat.
"Not too good." She sighed, attempting to keep the hostile memory at bay.
"I'm here whenever you're ready to talk about it."
"I know
you are," she replied, looping her arm with his. "You are a blessing to me, Tom."
"You're not too bad yourself," he joked, pecking her on the head.
It rained for the rest of the day. Pouring globs doused their clothing and supplies, seeming to weigh down every step they took. They settled down for the night, and cut two of the four large trash bags on each side to cover them during the long night ahead. They ended up sitting side by side and draping the thick plastic over their shoulders.
When they woke the next morning, the woods surrounding them were barely visible. A thick layer of fog clouded and consumed the entire area. Fog such as this was known to last for hours in their part of Texas. Knowing that, Emma refused to waste time waiting for the atmosphere to thin itself out. Lifting her head from Tom's shoulder, she began nudging everyone fully awake. Groggily, each of them raised their chins and stared into the misty day ahead.
On their feet, they passed around the beans leftover from the night before, and called it their breakfast on the go. Tom and Nell stayed in the front on guard duty, sometimes startling everyone by raising their weapons, while Emma stayed in the back. Almost immediately, they would lower them, making hasty apologies. With the fog draped over the land, it was hard to decipher whether the crunching of leaves was a scurrying animal or people coming to take what didn't belong to them.
"We're almost there," Emma said, encouraging them to push through the aching in their feet and legs. "Only a couple more miles to go."
When they set foot on the Clerys' man-made four-wheeler trail, it sped up their progress considerably. The smoothness of the trail made it easier to move the wheelbarrow across. As they went, the tall pines lining either side of the path swayed with the flowing wind.
Back Wood was only a few feet away. Overjoyed with the thought of being home, Emma left her companions and sprinted up the hill.
Tom shouted, "Hold up!"—seemingly with the hope that she would wait for him to join. But Emma couldn't bring herself to wait any longer.
Topside, Emma strolled the remaining feet toward a happy reunion with her family when the fog thinned out, revealing the demolished barrier.
PART III:
Daddy's Girl
Chapter 36:
Emma
The rest of the group began emerging over the top of the hill, and their eyes stayed glued to the busted ten-foot-high fence barely hanging from its hinges.
Through the thickness of the fog, Emma turned to look at Tom, when she heard, "Get off the road!" echo all around them. She spotted a blurry figure running up the adjacent trail. A young girl wielding a softball bat was stumbling blindly through the thickness of the curtain draped over them. An outline of a dog seemed to be loyally following behind her.
"Move!"
As the group did as the blurry figure commanded, Emma felt her stomach drop as Jane's body escaped the mist. Sweat beaded down Jane's flushed face as she clutched at her side. Dropping the bat, she lunged toward Emma. Together, their bodies sank to the dewy ground. Jane began uncontrollably sobbing into Emma's shoulder. As Emma stroked the back of the girl's head, she reached for Ripley, who turned away from Emma's grasp, searching for her missing mother. For Stella.
Prying Jane's chin from her shoulder, Emma asked, "Are you hurt?"
"No." She paused, choking back the tears. "It . . . it's not my blood."
"Lemme look at you." After helping Jane stand, Emma knelt before her. Shaken up, Emma took in the image of dried blood staining her clothes. Distraught, she held a hand to her mouth. "Whose . . . whose blood is it?"
"A stranger. I . . . I . . . " She paused, trembling. "Please don't be mad at me."
"I'm not mad. Tell me what happened."
"Men came. They tried to take us away. We . . . we had to kill him!" She sobbed. "We had to."
"It's okay. It's okay," Emma whispered, pulling her closer. Emma rose from her knees, took Jane by the hand, and asked, "Where are your sisters?"
"They're safe," she said, pointing down the trail. "Everyone's hiding in our spot."
"Everyone?"
"Momma Shirley told us to run. She made Farrah and me leave without her." Jane wiped her face. "She said to take the kids and run—run into the woods and hide."
"So Farrah's with you, then?"
"Yes, but she's scared. She hasn't said a word since all of it started."
Tom cut in: "What about my brother?"
"He wasn't with us. Cooper . . . he . . . he was with Mrs. Maples."
A rattled breath of worry escaped Tom's lungs as he took a step in the barrier's direction. Hurriedly, Emma grabbed hold of his wrist, preventing him from going any farther.
"How long have they been here?" Tom asked.
"Since yesterday."
"How many are there?"
"A whole bunch."
"C'mon," Emma said, "we need to keep moving."
Following Jane's lead, they kept themselves ready for a surprise attack. Emma's goal was to check on the kids before attempting to tackle the new threat. To Emma, making sure they were safe was the same as securing what innocence remained in the world. For now it was her top priority. Later they could come up with a game plan.
Jogging the rest of the mile of their familiar trail, the group heard soft whispers of Back Wood's children. Entering the secluded area of their haven, they found some of the children snacking on blackberries or picking muscadines from a drooping vine. Although everything was going seemingly well, they all had the same frightened look on their faces. Emma imagined these looks were brought on by their concern for their parents' wellbeing.
From a distance, Emma spotted half of them sitting in a circle around a small campfire. In the middle of the group sat a woman with raven black hair covering the length of her back. Inching closer, Emma's ears perked up to the sounds of the woman singing a song. Glancing behind her, Emma's company seemed frozen by the sweet melody.
"Who's been looking after y'all?" Emma asked Jane upon noticing a rabbit roasting over the flames. "I know you didn't kill that animal."
"That lady." She gestured toward the stranger. "That lady, there."
"What's her name?"
"She didn't say, but the other guy did. They were just waiting for us here."
"Okay, then, what's his name?"
"I think its Wacky something—oh, wait, I think he said it was Wakizi. No, no, that isn't right."
"Wakiza?"
"Yeah, yeah, that's it. Oh, look there he is!"
"Where?"
"There," she said, pointing toward the woods. "He saved us."
"But," Emma whispered to herself, "it can't be. You've already found peace."
Days ago, just as quickly as he appeared to Emma, he had disappeared, forever leaving the place behind—or so she had thought. The man who had brought her back to life was emerging from the fog with two of her girls by his side, now saving their lives. Each of them carried freshly killed game in their tiny, inexperienced hands.
The presence of his longbow draped across his shoulders and a leather pouch full of arrows resting on Claire's forearm filled Emma's heart with thankfulness. Wakiza had been there for them when she had not. As Emma took in the appearance of a lost warrior being found, his hand gripped the restored spear, ready to cut down anything that stood between him and the safety of his people.
"Yes, I have found peace," he said to Emma. "But that does not mean I am willing to leave you and yours to fend for yourselves against this threat."
"Look what we caught!" Claire excitedly shouted. "Look! Look!"
"These bunnies didn't even see us coming," Lizzie added, swinging her kill.
"Heck yeah, that's impressive." Emma nodded her head in approval. "You girls go try out your skills at skinning them pelts."
Watching their golden heads sprint away, Emma ignored Tom and the rest of her friends' shocked, muted stances, and turned her attention to her guardian angel.
"Are they able to understand you the same as me?"
"
No, you are the only one."
"So right now, everyone is under the impression that I'm able to speak an ancient language?" Taking his nod as confirmation, Emma asked, "What about my cousins over there? They're Clerys too. We share the same blood."
"True, but you are the only one who has been to the other side. You've known Death. Therefore, you know its language."
"So I have an ear for Death? Is that what you're saying?"
"Yes."
"Oh, right." She paused, pulling Tom closer. "Well, that's about as clear as mud, my friend. Let's just get this party started, shall we?"
"Do you mean to say festivities, or a gathering of some sort?" Wakiza asked, confused. "This is no time for—"
Cutting him off, Emma said, "Don't worry. It's just a figure of speech."
"Figure of speech?"
"Never"—she shook her head—"freaking mind." As Emma grabbed Tom's wrist, she felt his whole arm trembling. "You okay?"
"Do you see a half-naked dude standing in front of us right now?"
"Yes. This, well, he was our little secret," she replied, looking to Wakiza apologetically. "You remember?"
"Mmhmm." Tom took a step backward, and mumbled, "I do, but—"
"You've seen your mother," Emma said, smacking his shoulder. "You're being rude."
"Yeah, but, he's really, really dead."
Paying no mind to his last statement, Emma scanned the area for Wakiza's loyal companion. "Where's Ahanu?"
"Traveling a different plane. He's gathering our people. They will be here soon."
"So what are we supposed do? Wait till they show up?"
"I must wait for my people. You and the rest of your companions must begin the fight. Remember this: when you hear the howl of Ahanu, you will know we are with you."
As Wakiza led them to where his sister sat, Emma's cousins separated from the circle and sprinted toward her. Their small bodies clung to Emma's stomach and thighs. While Emma embraced them, Ayita stood, smiling. As Emma reached a welcoming hand over their heads, which were pressed tightly against her body, Ayita promptly shoved it away and joined in on the hug instead.