Captured by You

by Amber Hart

  “No, don’t! I’ll stop! I’ll stop,” she says through laughs.

  Leahcim drops his hand and picks at the mud on the ground.

  “I’m so glad you’re free,” Raven says. “You should be here”—she looks around at the forest—“where you belong.”

  Leahcim makes a noise, forming an O with his mouth. Raven mimics him. He does a different sound, and Raven tries that sound too. He tips his head back and makes a series of noises. Raven does too, and though she doesn’t sound the same as Leahcim, she is clearly communicating. She’s copying and learning from him. They are friends, despite their obvious differences. And I can’t understand this type of friendship. What I know is meat and skinning and being on one side of a gun barrel. I have never had the capacity to care about something I was always taught was just a means to our survival.

  What would I think if I weren’t born the heir to a poaching kingdom?

  The thought hits me out of nowhere, and I am shocked. I have never thought that way. I have always been proud of my family and our traditions.

  “She didn’t always love gorillas,” Clovis says, as if he’s reading my mind. “This is a friendship that developed naturally. He doesn’t fear her, and she has no reason to fear him. We are not their enemies. They are not here to be hunted.”

  Raven dips her fingers in mud and flips the gorilla’s hand over, palm side up. She begins to paint something on him. He places his hand in the mud and presses it to her pants, leaving a print.

  “I don’t understand how she can love a gorilla.” I test the words aloud in tribe dialect.

  “His name is Leahcim,” Clovis answers back in tribe. “Try it. Call him by name.”

  I don’t want to call him by name.

  “Say it, Jospin. Or are you worried that if you call him by name, you will have to admit that maybe I had a good reason to do what I did? That they are creatures with minds and personalities and that we do not have a right to murder them for our own gain? Are you worried that your anger toward me will become unjustified?”

  “That’s not it,” I say. “Justified or not, you didn’t just betray the pack. You betrayed me. You were my best friend. I fucking trusted you. This gorilla has nothing to do with that. Don’t pretend it does.”

  “Call him by his name, then, if it’s not a problem.”

  “Fine,” I reply. “Leahcim.” I pause. “I don’t understand how Raven can love Leahcim.”

  Clovis smiles. “Does it make a difference, brother? His name? It gives more meaning to his life, does it not?”

  I clench my fist, the one not holding the dagger. “It does not,” I say.

  But the problem is this: I’m lying.

  Chapter 43

  Raven

  I’m eager to look for Leahcim. After seeing him yesterday, I know he’s around. Today the rain has finally stopped, and so we must leave. We’ve destroyed the shelter and any evidence that we were ever here.

  We are on the forest floor for no more than a few minutes when Leahcim steps out of the trees. The bushes part as he strides toward us. He makes a sound, calling to me. I make the sound back. I don’t know what the noise means to him, but if he is willing to learn sign language for me, I am willing to try noises for him.

  “Where is your mate?” I ask.

  I don’t actually know if she is his mate, but she was with him yesterday, and she didn’t leave until he did. I wonder if Leahcim belongs to a troop, or if maybe he’s starting one himself. He’s finally showing silver on his back; it will soon look like a saddle. He is old enough to have mates and form a family bond. He’d be safer if he did, with more gorilla eyes on his back, more protection. I can’t stand the thought of a poacher finding him.

  Leahcim stops in front of me. On a rock beside me, Jospin waits, allowing me my goodbye. I don’t see the other gorilla here, though maybe she is hidden.

  “I have to go, Leahcim,” I say sadly. “I wish I could stay with you forever.”

  I never expected to want something like that. I never could have guessed that I would become friends with a gorilla. I bet Dad knew I would, though. He invited me to the forest for a reason. He believed that I had the capability to love these animals and that perhaps I would even help save them.

  “Take care, okay?” I say. “I’ll see you again.”

  Leahcim looks at me the way he always looks at me, with nonjudgmental brown eyes. Just then the female shows herself, but as quickly as she appears, she spooks.

  “She’s not used to humans,” I say to Leahcim. “That’s probably a good thing.”

  Leahcim has a handful of nuts, I notice, as he uncurls his fingers. He shoves his hand at me. I don’t know what he wants me to do. Maybe he’s offering me one. Maybe he just wants me to see them. I don’t make a move to take his food, so he sets one on the ground and pushes it toward me. In one motion, he drops the rest of the nuts into his open mouth and chews. I pick up the muddy nut and wipe it off.

  “Thank you,” I say, popping it into my mouth. “It’s delicious.”

  I smile at Leahcim, though there is an ache in my gut and my throat is stinging.

  “Until next time, Leahcim.”

  I’m not positive that there will be a next time. I am eager to drop off the evidence, and I cannot promise that I will ever return to this jungle. And if I don’t, this is my last time with the gorilla that changed my view of an entire species. I stand and hug him. He is hard and soft all at once.

  Leahcim doesn’t follow when I back away. He knows that he belongs here and that I am the visitor.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  For changing my mind. For challenging the way I think. For showing me that friendship has no limits. All of it.

  Though it’s hard to walk away from Leahcim, I do. Because he belongs here, and I have a responsibility to finish what Dad started.

  Jospin says nothing as I collect myself. I walk until Leahcim is out of sight; one final glance over my shoulder tells me so. The ground is still moist but no longer flooded. I have to be careful where I step, to not leave tracks. I don’t want to lead anyone to Leahcim.

  Clovis keeps pace beside us, occasionally offering me a look of understanding. He doesn’t speak, though. The journey needs to be a quiet one. We cannot alert anyone to our presence.

  But despite how quiet we are, and though we’re just barely away from where we built and destroyed the shelter, suddenly we hear the sound of footsteps gaining quickly on us. Someone is on our trail.

  Jospin yells something to Clovis in their tribe dialect a moment before a poacher comes crashing through the brush. I recognize him as a pack member of theirs, which means that Mr. Tondjii has found a way to hunt us down.

  “Look out, Raven!” Jospin yells.

  I take out my dagger and throw it. It slices through the air and lands in the poacher’s arm, slowing him down. I had been aiming for his heart. I’m not sure if I’m glad I missed or not. The poacher removes my knife from his arm and sends it sailing in an arc toward Clovis. I think he has moved just in time, but then he grabs his throat and drops to the ground. I want to run to him, but I need to help Jospin or we will all die. I remove another knife and throw. My hand is shaking—it misses entirely. I reach into my boot for my gun just as Jospin cries out in pain. He is struggling to pin the other man to the ground, his weapon knocked aside.

  “Finish him, Raven!” Jospin yells, as he struggles to press the poacher’s hand—and a sharp steel knife—away from his neck.

  I raise my gun and aim. I am close enough to take the shot, if they would just quit struggling so much. I don’t have a clear path. I don’t want to accidentally hit Jospin.

  “I can’t get him from here!” I yell, tears in my eyes.

  I decide to get close enough to press the barrel to the poacher’s forehead. Point-blank.

  Just as I am stepping toward them, a roar pierces my ears and nearly makes me drop to the ground. And then I don’t have to finish the man off, because Leachim rushes throu
gh the brush. Shoving Jospin aside, he grabs the poacher by the throat and slams him on the ground. The man doesn’t get back up.

  Jospin gasps for air. I slowly return my gun to my boot and place my hands on my legs, trying to catch my breath. Clovis sits up, bleeding but okay.

  “Is he dead?” I ask, my voice raspy.

  I never wanted Leahcim to kill to protect us.

  Jospin checks the man’s pulse. “No. But he is badly injured.”

  I approach Leahcim cautiously. He sits on the ground, his chest rising and falling in deep huffs. I see that Jospin is watching Leahcim in wonder. A creature whose kin he has killed so many times has just saved his life.

  “Leahcim,” I say. “You protected us.”

  Leahcim reaches a hand to me and clasps my arm. I wish with all my heart he could tell me what he is thinking. Suddenly Leahcim pulls me to him. He places a heavy arm around me and tastes my hair. Though the weight of his arm hurts, I do not move away.

  “Thank you,” I say into his fur.

  Clovis walks over, shirt pressed against his throat, and stops a respectful distance from Leahcim.

  “Thank you,” he says to Leahcim.

  Leahcim pays him no attention, but I know he’s listening. It is Jospin who holds his gaze.

  “We have to go, Raven,” Jospin says, still looking at Leahcim.

  “He saved you,” I mention, though he knows that already.

  Jospin nods. “Yes, and now, thanks to him, we can leave. We do not want to run into more tribe members.”

  “Will you be all right?” I ask Leahcim. I know he can’t speak to tell me either way, but somehow it feels better to ask, as if maybe he understands.

  His answer is to drop his arm and retreat into the trees. And so I go too. As I walk, I realize that today something changed. I was willing to take a life to save those I love. And I am not ashamed.

  Chapter 44

  Jospin

  We walk for hours, getting closer and closer to our last chance of shutting my father’s empire down. Somewhere along the way, it has become my hope as much as it is Raven’s. Perhaps it started to happen the moment Father disowned me. I was someone he was proud of until I disobeyed. Then I was just another enemy. Or maybe something has changed because of Leahcim’s willingness to defend me. My own father would not have defended me the same way.

  “How much longer?” Raven asks.

  We were able to drink remaining rain droplets and puddles cupped in leaves, and we stopped to nap. But the sun is hot and the ground is drying fast and we are thirsty. There have been berries along the way, and even the occasional fruit, but protein is scarce. We are starved for meat.

  “One more day,” I answer.

  Raven swallows dryly and doesn’t complain. She accepts that this is the way things must be. Just a little longer.

  “Wait,” Clovis says, stopping us.

  I hear it too, a shifting in the leaves. A lizard appears in front of us, and we all are still, careful not to startle it. It will move too fast to hit if we do.

  Raven removes her dagger.

  “I’ll do it,” I offer.

  “I’ve got it,” she replies, determined.

  She takes one step forward. The lizard turns to flee, but Raven already anticipated its move and swings the dagger down through its head, an easy kill. Without any assistance from Clovis or me, she skins and guts the lizard, cutting us strips of fresh meat. She is perfectly equipped to feed herself if she has to, and I am proud of her.

  “Let’s light a quick fire,” she suggests. “We don’t have time to lay meat out to bake on rocks.”

  Clovis and I look at each other and shrug. We are both hungry enough to risk it. Clovis finds sticks to kindle the flame. The lizard is cooked in minutes, and for the first time in days, real energy courses through me. The meat isn’t much, but it helps tremendously. When we finish, we stamp out the fire and move on with a new determination.

  We put miles between us and the remnants of the fire that we could not hide before our steps begin to drag.

  “We need rest,” I mention.

  Though we are close to our destination, no one disagrees.

  “I’ll take first watch,” I offer.

  “Second,” Clovis chimes in.

  “That leaves me with third,” Raven says.

  I know it is no mistake that Clovis chooses to take second watch. He doesn’t mind breaking up his sleep. A few hours of rest, then watch, then a few hours of rest again before we depart in the morning. That way Raven can sleep uninterrupted most of the night.

  We climb a tree, and Raven settles in a nook next to me. I trace a finger along her arm. I’ve thought about hiding my plan to turn myself in, knowing Raven will only try to discourage me, but in the end I settle on honesty.

  “I need to tell you something,” I say.

  Clovis is below us, close enough to hear, but I don’t care. Raven watches me, waiting.

  “When we reach the city and hand over the evidence, I will also turn myself in.”

  Raven’s face falls. “No,” she whispers. Then, “No.” Louder this time.

  I feel the tree shake from what I can only guess is Clovis’s fist hitting it.

  “Are you crazy?” he asks. He climbs up to where we are. “Why would you do that?”

  “We don’t have enough evidence, Clovis, and you know it.”

  Clovis huffs, shoving his dreads away from his face. “You can’t decide that now. You don’t even know what the contact will say yet!”

  As we lock eyes, I realize something. He still cares. There’s an emotion evident in his face, and it’s this: worry. I didn’t think he would mind if I disappeared. I thought he’d be happy to be left alone with Raven. But I see now that I’m wrong.

  I don’t know what to say to him. I don’t know how to admit that maybe he isn’t completely who I thought he was. He lied to me, and I don’t know how to forget that. But maybe he is still, in some small part, the boy I used to know, the one I called friend.

  “You should listen to Clovis,” Raven says. “At least give them a chance to look things over before you offer yourself up.”

  I consider her suggestion. “And what if they say it is not enough? Will you then accept that I need to do this?”

  She pauses to consider it. It’s not an easy decision, and it looks as though she will not accept it. I’m not sure I would if the roles were reversed.

  Raven doesn’t seem pleased, but she says, “Yes, if that’s what you really want, if that’s what it will take, then I will accept it. I will hate it, and I don’t agree with it, but I will accept it as your choice.”

  “I don’t like this, Jospin,” Clovis says. “She needs you.” He pauses to look at Raven. “Think about her before you make a choice like this.”

  “Maybe in the beginning she needed me,” I correct him. “But not now. Now Raven is strong. Now Raven can hike miles through the forest and hunt on her own.” I think about what I saw earlier today. “She would have killed that poacher, Clovis. Raven will be just fine.”

  The words are as much for myself as they are for her. I want Raven to know that I see it, the way she has stood up to every obstacle we have faced and overcome all of them.

  Clovis has no response. He knows I am right. Nothing more needs to be said. He slides down the tree, leaving me alone with Raven. As soon as his feet hit the forest floor, Raven turns to me.

  “Do you mean what you said?” she asks.

  “Of course,” I tell her, fingers running through her long hair. “You will be fine, Raven, no matter what happens. You are strong.”

  “And about the poacher—how did you know I meant to kill him?”

  “Ah,” I say, smiling. “That was easy. It was your look. It was the way your eyes trained on his chest and your expression finally gave in. Usually you look conflicted when the need for attack arises. You don’t hesitate, you jump right in, but your expression says it all.”

  She considers my words. “A
nd what did my face look like this time?”

  “This time,” I say, “it was calm. It was resolved.” I brush hair out of her face and I look her in the eyes. “But mostly it was absolutely deadly.”

  —

  All I can think when I hear a noise below in the early morning hours is that I do not have enough energy for another attack. I quickly grip my knife as Raven rouses. It takes only a brief moment for her gaze to sharpen and for her ears to pick up on it too. I don’t have the drive, but I know I must find it, because someone is definitely coming.

  There is no noise from Clovis, though he must hear it too. I imagine he is preparing like me—quietly unsheathing his dagger and waiting for whatever it is to come within striking distance.

  Clomp, clomp, clomp.

  It is the sound of boots hitting the forest floor. Loudly. I cannot understand why the sound is so loud. Either the person walking toward our tree wants us to know he’s approaching or he’s extremely inexperienced. No one in this jungle is our friend right now, so I can only guess it is the latter. This is comforting, considering that I do not have enough energy for a full-scale attack on trained poachers who are out for our blood. Inexperience likely means that this fight will be quick, if it even comes to that, if the person even realizes we’re here. Perhaps it’s a wild. Maybe we’ll be lucky and he’ll walk on by, unaware of our location.

  I eye my knife. Raven has already grabbed her gun. This should be no problem at all.

  But I am wrong, as it turns out. The person is now so close that I can hear breathing. I can almost imagine his chest moving with each inhale. But we are not dealing with an inexperienced poacher; that is clear the moment the bullet lodges itself in the tree directly above my head.

  “I could have killed you already,” comes a voice. “If I meant for you to be dead, that shot would have met its mark. Keep that in mind.”

  I nearly drop my knife because one, he is right, and two, the voice belongs to someone I know all too well.

  I jump so quickly that Raven startles, and in an instant I am on the ground.

  “Hello, Mattius,” I say.