The Dawn of Skye (The Someday Children Book 1)

by E. B. Heimdal

  Once again anger grows inside him, and he feels like walking over to him and shaking him until he wakes up. But he knows it’ll be pointless. He’s not the reason their home is destroyed. No matter whether the hostile boys had attacked them or not, the water would still have come, flooding the ground under them. It was his inner despair talking. It just felt better if he could find a reason why all the anger of the earth had hit them at once. And why Skye and Salomon seemed to be connected to each other.

  He slowly gets up and moans loudly in the process. Every fiber and muscle in his body is hurting, and it pains him just to move. The wound on the back of his thigh is still open, and he’ll have to find Puk and get it stitched up before it can heal.

  Stiffly and slowly he walks over to Puk, who sits next to Evi and the unconscious boy. He looks down at them. They look like two little chicks who’ve fallen out of the nest, helpless and incapable of surviving unless someone picks them up and gives them food and warmth. And love.

  “Evi’s going to make it. The wound in her head is deep, but I’ve had contact with her several times and she seems pretty clear. She just needs some rest. I’ll try to heal her wound the same way I healed Twice’s injuries.”

  Puk looks up at Dagwood as he speaks. He doesn’t look worried and Dagwood feels a spark of hope growing inside. The unknown boy starts moving. He’s waking up, and Dagwood squats next to him. He mumbles quietly as his head moves from side to side. In a few moments he’ll open his eyes and realize that he’s lost everything. His clan has disappeared, or is dead, and he lies wounded and alone in the enemy’s camp.

  Skye wakes up suddenly. A heartbreaking scream has woken her. Confused, she gets up. She’d finally fallen asleep after the night of horror and had found her way into the deepest embrace of sleep. So deep that dreams and nightmares didn’t follow.

  She sees Puk and Dagwood try to hold the unknown boy down. He’s fighting desperately to free himself of their grip, but his strength is failing. The screaming turns into crying and he stops fighting. He slowly gets up on his elbows and looks around with tearful eyes at the group of people that’s gathered around him.

  Dagwood looks in the linen sack attached to his belt and picks up a small elongated stick. He holds it up in front of the boy and asks: “Does this arrow belong to someone from your clan?”

  The boy looks confused and frowns as he stutters: “It’s … well it’s too small to throw with …”

  Dagwood moves the arrow closer to his face and says: “You don’t throw it. You shoot it! Don’t play stupid.”

  His voice is surprisingly hard and his movements are impatient. The boy still seems confused and looks nervously at Dagwood.

  “I don’t know what you mean. Or how to use an arrow. We only use spears. It’s the only weapon I know.”

  Finch interferes aggressively in the conversation and shouts at him: “Yes, like the spear that killed Knox! Was it you who threw it? Was it you who killed our friend?”

  Frightened by Finch’s violent tone the boy lifts his arms over his head, expecting a physical punishment.

  “No, it wasn’t me. We don’t have permission to kill anybody. We were just going to scare you, but someone in the group broke that order. He did it without permission. I swear it!”

  He looks nervously around and goes on, quivering: “Where’s everyone else? Where’s my clan?”

  Salomon takes a step forward from the circle of spectators and says: “They’re gone. Long gone. And we should’ve kicked you out of the camp too. We don’t want someone spiteful among us … Someone like …”

  Dagwood cuts him off as he gets up.

  “You can stay with us until your wounds have healed and you’re strong enough to travel. But we’ll be watching you, so don’t do anything stupid to make me regret my decision.”

  The unknown boy answers quietly: “I won’t do anything stupid … I promise.”

  Once again his eyes are filled with tears and it’s obvious to everyone that he feels bad.

  Puk gently touches his arm and asks him: “What’s your name?”

  The boy looks surprised at him and relaxes instinctively as he meets the friendly eyes of Puk.

  “My name … is Storm.”

  Puk smiles at him and encourages him to keep on talking.

  “I’m the seventh boy in the clan. Seventh because there are six others who are older than me. They’ve been my family since I left the village with the copper mines and The Great Giver.”

  Skye’s shocked when he mentions where he’s from. He must come from the same district as Ecco and her, and she tries to spot something recognizable in his face, but she doesn’t remember ever seeing him before. His blond hair and pale skin could suggest he’s from a noble family that lived a some distance from the village and the forest, but she’s not sure. She’s curious to learn more, but doesn’t feel like talking to him or looking for his company. He reminds her too much of the boy who attacked her in the forest.

  Puk gets up and walks over to Dagwood.

  “I think he’s telling the truth. He’s just scared. He won’t hurt us or attack us at night. His courage is limited to running away from the camp, and I don’t think he even dares to do that.”

  Dagwood nods.

  “I think you’re right. He seems nervous and scared. He’s used to taking orders, not acting independently.”

  Dagwood gets hold of Salomon, and with a discrete nod he indicates that he should come with him. Unnoticed, they walk away from the others, but not so far that Puk can’t follow their conversation.

  “Something’s worrying me, Sal, but I don’t want to make the others more nervous or unsafe than they already are. The arrow that I showed the boy – I tore out of the skull of one of our enemies tonight. He was hit from behind while I was fighting him. But apparently it doesn’t belong to their clan.”

  Salomon looks uneasily at him.

  “But what does that mean, then?”

  Dagwood lifts his shoulders slightly.

  “That there’s someone out there in the forest that we don’t know about. And we don’t know what they want from us, either.”

  Puk’s senses are wound up. He’s full of curiosity and needs to concentrate to hear every word. Annoyed, he hushes Skye as she asks him something, and she walks away a little offended. The conversation between Dagwood and Salomon is stored in his mind and he tries to process the new information he’s picked up without them noticing. He closes his eyes and tries to listen to all the unusual sounds around him, but the others are talking and it confuses his senses. He turns to the forest and looks across the devastated landscape that used to be their camp. Everything is still in chaos, but it seems calm, almost too calm.

  Just as he’s about to turn around to face the others, he sees a shimmer of light high up in one of the trees. His eyes are focusing on the tree, but there’s nothing to see anymore and he starts doubting that he saw anything, and thinks that his eyes might have played a trick on him. Maybe it was just a ray of sun hitting something shiny in the treetop? The blood pulsating in Puk’s temples beats loudly as he thinks. Deep inside, he knows that the explanation doesn’t make sense. Because there’s nothing that shines in the treetops, so no matter what he’s seen it’s caused by a human.

  He’s suddenly interrupted by Dagwood, who’s gathered the others around him.

  “Listen, everybody! The coming days are going to be tough. Real tough. Our home’s destroyed, our camp’s been washed away, and we’re going to start all over. We’re homeless, cold and hungry. We’ve lost everything – except from each other. Let that be our mantra, our driving force. If we lose hope or each other, we’re seriously lost. Look around you … at the chaos and the ruins … It’s all dead things. Things that we can rebuild. Together! Remember that when we found this place and decided to settle down, we didn’t have anything either, other than each other.�
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  Skye listens attentively to Dagwood’s words and sees Lark reaching for Axton’s hand, squeezing it a bit. She looks at Salomon, who’s standing a short distance from her with his arms crossed. He looks at her and she tries to send him an encouraging smile, but he quickly looks away.

  Dagwood goes on: “We’ve lost three of our friends. And that’s the only thing we should mourn. Everything else means nothing. Think about when things are at their darkest and most hopeless. When the cold gets you, and your stomach screams from hunger. Cry if you need to feel small and lost, but don’t give up. That’s all I’m asking of you.”

  He looks at everybody and breathes deeply.

  “Right now, there’s nothing I want more than to sit with you, Knox, Carrick, Red … and Flo, in our hut with a burning fire and Puk’s delicious stew on our plates. From now on, some of that will only be memories, but the rest I want to live through soon again.”

  He walks over to Skye and puts his arm around her shoulders as he looks at the sky.

  “Luck already seems to be in our favor. The rain clouds are gone and I’ve seen the sun more than once today. Let’s get a good night’s sleep and start rebuilding our camp tomorrow.”

  He looks at Evi and sees that her eyes are open, but he’s not sure whether she hears what he’s saying.

  “When everything’s in place and we feel safe and warm again, then we’ll find Flo and bring her back home.”

  Over the next couple of days they clean the hut and the area around it. Blankets and skins are hung to dry, and water is scooped from the floor of the hut. The sun’s still on their side and gives them a feeling of warmth and summer as they try to reclaim what can be salvaged. The work slowly progresses, and bit by bit they manage to make the camp livable again. They take turns fetching food, and both Dagwood and Axton are lucky enough to shoot a couple of birds with their stone slings and slingshots. Finch and Skye have taken over the cooking, while Puk takes care of Evi and Storm.

  Slowly he’s healed Evi’s head wound, and she starts staying awake for longer and longer periods at a time. Storm’s started moving around the settlement, closely guarded by everyone in the clan, but he doesn’t seem to want to bother anyone or to run away from the camp. Puk sees that he’s still weak after his struggle in the water, and it doesn’t seem like he’d be able to go very far if he was to go into the forest on his own.

  “When do you think he’s coming back again?”

  Skye sits next to Puk, who’s busy washing Evi’s face. Pus runs from her wound and he needs to keep it clean so that buzzers won’t gather around it. She shivers as she sees how deep the wound is and quickly looks away. Puk lifts his shoulders and looks at Skye. She’s been worried ever since Salomon wandered into the forest to patrol the area and look for signs of Flo and the attacking clan, The Scavengers.

  “I don’t know, Skye, but he’s capable of taking care of himself. You know that, right? You shouldn’t worry.”

  Skye smiles back at him, but she doesn’t feel reassured by Puk’s words. No matter how good Salomon is at taking care of himself, something unforeseen might happen. Like it happened to her. She won’t calm down until he’s back again.

  “You’re probably right, Puk. I just don’t understand why it always has to be him who leaves. Why couldn’t it be Axton or some of the others this time?”

  Puk answers: “Well, maybe, but he did volunteer for the task. And this time he was very insisting … You know why, right?”

  Skye looks at him, surprised. Sometimes Puk can be so very cryptic in his phrasing and you never quite know what he means. But he usually knows things before everyone else. His overly sensitive senses capture moods and unsaid words, and he often keeps his knowledge to himself.

  Skye doesn’t want to appear stupid, and quickly answers: “Yes, of course I know. His need for justice will be fulfilled when he finds The Scavengers. And then he can bring back Flo.”

  She’s not sure that she understood what he meant, but she can’t think of any other reason for Salomon not wanting to be in the camp with her and the others. Even though they’ve spent a lot of time together by now, she still finds it hard to read him and understand his actions. And just as she thought they were growing closer to each other, he disappeared into the forest without explanation. It torments her that she doesn’t understand him like she understands Dagwood. The more she thinks about it, the more frustrated and angry with him she gets.

  Puk starts laughing as he shakes his head, and Skye looks at him, offended.

  “Why are you laughing?”

  Puk answers with a smile: “Sometimes the most obvious thing is hard to accept and understand. Twice still won’t accept that he only has one eye and four stiff legs. He insists on doing the same things he did before, even though it’s impossible. But maybe one day when he’s fallen enough times and bumped into enough things he’ll realize that he IS half blind and crippled.”

  Skye frowns at him and starts walking away.

  “I don’t know what Twice’s blind eye and stiff legs have to do with Salomon’s trip to the forest. Sometimes you really ought to speak the same language as the rest of us, Puk!”

  She quickly walks toward the hut where Dagwood’s repairing the roof. She promised to bring back some branches, but now discovers that she forgot all about them. Since the attack and the flood she’s helped Dagwood with many of his tasks, and it’s been liberating just to do as he asks instead of thinking about solutions herself. It reminds her of the time when she lived in the forest with Ecco.

  Skye’s impressed by the extent of his overview and the amount of resources he has, and she admires him for it. His ability to make everyone feel safe is indispensable. Particularly now when their home’s been destroyed and their faith in the future’s vanished. She always tries to make an extra effort when she helps or assists him so he won’t be disappointed in her. It means a lot to her that he values her abilities and skills.

  She quickly turns around and walks to the forest before he can see her empty hands.

  CHAPTER 45

  Salomon looks at the ground. He’s tried to find tracks in the mud from recent activity, but he’s seen nothing other than a few footprints of a long-ear. There are no tracks from The Scavengers or Flo. Despairingly, he sits down on a fallen tree and takes out his water skin. The few tracks he’d followed away from the camp are long gone and he doubts whether he’s heading in the right direction at all. They could be several days of marching away, on the opposite side of the valley.

  But it doesn’t really matter. He’s finding it hard to concentrate on finding a group of boys who mean nothing to him anyway. The only thing he can think about is Skye’s face. The way she’d looked at him when he woke up covered in mud. He heard that she was talking to him, heard what she said, but that was before she could see his face. Before she knew who was buried under the mud.

  He hides his face in his hands and breathes deeply. The expression on her face when he opened his eyes was unbearable to think about. Why didn’t she say anything when she saw it was him? He knew what the answer was, he just wished that it was a different one. She was hoping to see someone other than him, and the disappointment in her eyes was clear.

  It was hard for him to see her working with Dagwood in the following days. Several times he’d felt like grabbing her to talk to her, but he didn’t know what to say. He feels like being close to her, like when they were alone together in the forest, talking all night, sharing secrets and sleeping next to each other. Now she’s sleeping next to Dagwood. Now it’s Dagwood who’s keeping her warm at night. He had to get away from them, and that’s why he volunteered to patrol the forest. But right now it didn’t help him. She was in his head all the time.

  Salomon gets up and tries to orient himself. He hasn’t noticed that the landscape has changed around him and that he’s wandered further away from the camp than he thought he had
. In front of him, not that far away, the mountains start taking shape, and soon he’ll be all the way up where the flat-tailed rodents live.

  All of a sudden he hears the sound of a tree falling, and his senses are on alert immediately. Instinctively, he bends down and hides behind some bushes as he looks in the direction of the sound. But there’s nothing to see, no animal or human. He gets up slowly and moves toward the sound of the fallen tree.

  The terrain’s dense and the ground is slippery and muddy, but the many bushes and trees make it easier for him to get up the muddy mountainside. He grabs exposed roots and branches, pulling himself up, little by little. Halfway up the mountain he stops and looks around. He has a great view of the forest, and the destruction caused by the flood reveals itself to him. Large parts of the forest lie naked, covered in mud and fallen trees. The muddy path leads towards the valley where they live because it’s the natural path of the water.

  Salomon sighs. Standing on the mountain looking at the forest, the valley and the river, it all makes sense. Naturally their home would be flooded if a flood came. And it did. But none of them could’ve known it. The river had been passing by them quietly as long as they’d been living there. Never before had it reacted this violently and destructively.

  Just then, his thoughts are interrupted by another tree falling, further up the mountainside. It looks like a force from the underground has pushed the tree up and has then thrown it to the side. He moves further up and is soon at the top of the mountain. A rumbling sound signals the start of a heavy rain shower, and he sighs at the thought of getting soaked and cold.

  He spots a large pile of trees and branches that have gathered a bit further ahead. He can also hear the sound of water, but it’s not the raindrops from the sky. The closer he gets to the pile of trees, the louder and more violent the sound of rushing water becomes.