Sam's Theory

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Sam's Theory Page 28

by Sarah Mendivel


  Nothing.

  I slowed my pace to a brisk walk, looking all around me while trying to catch my breath. Confused by their sudden exodus, I bent over, gasping for air.

  The temperature outside had dropped as I was running, turning the rain into snow. Powdery flakes, as stark white as the fur of the wolves, piled on the ground around me. If it snowed too much, I might not be able to see them.

  As the oxygen returned, the woods grew silent. I stood in defensive mode, knowing better than to trust silence. Realizing I was only a few feet away from my tree, I hopped back into action and scaled it without caring how sloppy the climb looked.

  When I reached as far as I could go, I turned around and listened for the predators. I could see the field stretch out before me and felt the adrenaline continue to sink into my limbs.

  Snap! cracked a twig in the distance.

  Shoof! rustled a stack of leaves nearby.

  The wolves were still here. Were they on both sides of me again? Should I yell for the group? Would they be able to help me in time? What if the wolves went after them instead?

  As if reading my mind, three figures appeared from the trees and waltzed into the center of the field.

  “Sam?” called out Dodger casually.

  Oh, no!

  “Sam?! Where are ya?” Rishawn yelled as the others looked around for me.

  No, not all three of them!

  I couldn’t lose everyone all at once. I’d never survive that kind of loss. If I yelled, the wolves might come after me. If I stayed silent, they would eventually go after the group.

  “Yo, Sam! Where ya be, gurly?” said Mikayla playfully.

  My eyes shot back toward the ground as a chaos of fur scurried away from my tree.

  “Oh my God,” I mumbled fearfully. The wolves were on their way to meet the group.

  I leaned forward, trying to survey the landscape for a plan out of here. As I watched the group fumble deeper into the center of the field, I noticed lengths of grass behind them slowly sway from side to side. The wolves were starting to hunt them from all directions.

  I wanted to cry out to my friends, but my heart was pounding so hard that it choked my voice out of existence. A frigid breeze zipped across my face and my body shook. I could feel my mind begin to float into space.

  “No, not right now,” I whispered out loud, trying to talk my brain into staying present.

  As Dodger and Mikayla walked forward, I watched Rishawn fall behind. He stopped midstride, his face changing over. “Guys?”

  “Yeah, dude,” said Dodger, without turning around.

  “Do you feel that?”

  “Feel what?” scoffed Mikayla.

  The grass was moving faster and I could see fear surfacing on the face of my youngest friend. He knew what I knew: none of us were safe anymore.

  There was something about Rishawn’s fear that dissipated my own. Suddenly I thought about how we had just been eating breakfast together this morning. We spent all week playing and laughing together. We had spent hours creating rules to live by that would keep us safe. And now, here was something threatening that safety. Now, here was something threatening the people I had grown to love.

  Now, here was something threatening my family.

  “Rishawn!” I yelled as loud as my body would allow. The group shot their attention up at me.

  Dodger looked at me, confused. “Sam?”

  “Run!” I screamed.

  “What?”

  Grrrr came the familiar growl of the wolves that were no longer hiding in the grass.

  I watched my friends slowly turn around to meet the pair of white wolves that had hunted me straight up the tree I now helplessly hung from.

  “Ruuuuun,” I yelled again, as the chill of more growls wrapped themselves around the kids that stood in their way. I couldn’t see Dodger’s face, but saw him lean back and ball his hands into fists. I knew what that meant and felt empowered by his instinct to always fight against things that threatened us. It was enough for me to start climbing down the tree to help.

  “Oof,” I grunted as my feet hit the ground. I quickly scanned the terrain surrounding me, catching sight of the pile of wood I had been looking for originally.

  Fight, Sam…said a voice again. I didn’t have to time to wonder where it was coming from or who it belonged to. I just knew the whimpering of Rishawn’s scared little voice was bellowing like a thunder storm behind me.

  I had to save my family.

  I grabbed two sticks that were long and heavy, remembering the scene of my final battle with Him. Flashes of His immensity and intimidation tore through my brain. I had already survived so much and gotten so far. I had been terrified before finding Theory, but knew now that I was capable of fighting more if I needed to.

  I thought of Nova again, realizing that if we couldn’t survive these wolves, then He might get to her before I could. I bolted toward the group, determined to end this. There was no way I was going to let these wolves threaten the very people I had earned.

  The wolves had frozen in attack mode again, tormenting the group with the same anticipation they had teased me with. I walked up beside Dodger and handed him a staff, feeling the energy of his entire body ready for battle. Rishawn and Mikayla worked hard to match his courage, but I could feel their nerves whip through the air like the rain. Fear rose from the rain-soaked soil and crawled slowly up my legs, torso, and then arms.

  Rrrrrr-AH! Without warning, a wolf leapt from behind a fallen log and charged toward us. I leaned into it with my staff as the other predators howled loudly somewhere in the grass behind us.

  Harnk! The wolf had snapped at the back of my hoodie and yanked me to the ground.

  Smack! I grabbed the handle of my stick and hit the wolf in the side of the mouth, catching a glimpse of the group fighting their own monsters in my peripheral.

  The wolf whimpered then gnarled, batting at its face with its paw. I rose to my knees as it struggled, stunned that I had hit it so hard.

  “Sam, keep fighting!” roared Dodger. I turned my head to see him on top of another wolf as Rishawn kicked it in the ribs. Mikayla had picked up a handful of rocks and was throwing them at the third wolf.

  We were all fighting to survive.

  Grrr-RAH!

  Ugh! Gaah! Hrr! The sounds of our battle exploded around us like cannons. Waves of terror and the instinct to survive swirled throughout my body.

  Suddenly, Dodger spun around, holding a tuft of the wolf’s hair in his hands. For just a split second, a look of fear flashed across his face. I had never seen Dodger scared before, and it made me furious.

  Reacting to his vulnerability, I positioned my staff to point toward the injured wolf and rose to my feet. The wolf growled deeply, offended that my demeanor had changed. Its eyes darkened with a luster of contempt, the way His had right before He used to abuse me. The eerie similarity of expression ruptured my bubble of fear completely and turned on the same fight that had made me so strong during the final hologram battle at Theory’s house.

  “Sam?” whispered another voice. I looked past the wolf and saw the faint outline of Nova in the trees. She flickered under the weight of a pewter fog.

  “Nova?” I replied.

  Grrrr…warned the wolf, forcing my attention back onto it. It was ready to fight again.

  “No more,” I quipped back. Stretching my stance to prepare for an attack, I could feel courage swelling from within.

  The other wolf Mikayla had been fighting made itself visible in front of me as well, and we met in a triangle of dares. My hands positioned themselves steady on the staff, wired to battle.

  Aaaack! wailed the steller’s jay as the wolves simultaneously stormed toward me.

  Smack! I twirled and twisted the staff into the shoulders of the wolves. They moaned and grumbled, taking the hit as motivation to increase their aggression.

  The assault continued.

  Thud!

  Grrr!

  Umph!
/>   Rrrr!

  As one wolf charged, the other leapt. Blurs of white fur tangled into the space surrounding me. I lifted my staff into the air and brought it crashing back into the rib cage of one wolf like lightening.

  Owww! cried the wolf. My ferocity and outrage continued to gush out of me and onto my adversaries.

  I fought for Nova. I fought for Dodger. I fought for my friends and for the woman who had saved me. I fought for the life that I had to endure, for the kids that still shared a similar fate.

  I fought with the rage of the orphan that lived inside of me.

  Whoosh! My staff sliced through the air and missed the face of a wolf by inches. Exploiting my miss, the wolf hurled into me.

  Oof!

  We tumbled onto the ground and I could feel the heat from its breath wash over my face. Trying to protect my face with my arm, the wolf tore at my hand with its claw.

  “Ahhhhhh!” I cried under the splintering pain. Balling my injured hand into a fist, I bludgeoned the wolf in the snout. We wrestled and pulled at one another’s hair until I was able to stand on my feet again.

  In a suspended moment of honor amongst war constituents, we stood in our spaces, staring at one another and catching our breaths. All three of us were marked with soil, blood, and rain. Looking down at my hand, I watched the drizzle blur my wounds into a crimson palette of valor. I slowly lifted the bloody hand to eye level, closed my eyes and wiped it across my face. The salty smell of blood stained my nose and provoked a primal warrior within me.

  Bowing my blood-streaked head and readjusting my staff, I could see the wolves were ready for our final round. A profound calm rooted in me; I knew now how this fight would end.

  Noticing a hairline fracture in the wood I held, I stepped back gradually toward a nearby tree. The wolves paced me, posturing their muscly shoulders for an attack.

  Whack! I spun and hit the tree with my staff, splintering the top off to make a spear. One wolf startled and paused just long enough for me to jab it with my weapon.

  Yelp!

  The other wolf gnarled with animosity and lunged at me. As we fell, the stick caught itself between two exposed roots in the ground and speared the wolf above me. I hit the ground with a thump as the last of the predators stacked dead upon me.

  I rested in the grass, looking to the trees above, catching my breath. The air was silent around me as the adrenaline subsided. A canopy of tree branches suddenly fell under an eclipse of three panicked faces.

  “Sam, are you okay?!” Dodger yelled while hurrying to lift the lifeless wolves off of me.

  Soreness settled into my arms as I grunted and pushed to help him. “Yeah.”

  Mikayla helped me to my feet, her voice flooded with concern. “You’re bleeding.”

  I looked down at my hand, remembering that it had been cut open. “Yeah. It got me when I fell over the first time.” I then scanned the field, seeing that the group had killed the third wolf.

  Rishawn rushed into me and hugged my waist. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Sam.”

  I rubbed his back and looked over the group for any injuries they had. “Me, too, friend. Are you guys okay?”

  Mikayla looked like she wanted to cry, but held it together. “Yeah, I’m fine. Dodger got pretty jacked up, though.”

  Dodger ran his hand through his blood-streaked hair, then threw his arm around Mikayla. “I’m okay, friend.”

  We all leaned into one another and held each other in the rain. Being squished between a group of people I cared about was a new favorite sensation of mine. We felt safe again.

  “That was really scary,” Rishawn said, his voice muffled in the front of my hoodie.

  “Yeah, it was” Dodger admitted.

  “I can’t believe we killed them,” said Mikayla, not wanting to let go of us quite yet.

  “No kidding,” I said. “It’s a good thing we were all together.”

  The group looked up at one another, all of us sharing a look that spoke to the gratitude of everyone being okay. I couldn’t believe how thankful I was to still have them.

  The rain pelted down harder and Dodger leaned over to grab a few sticks of wood. “Come on guys, let’s head back before it gets too ugly out here.”

  “Or before we hafta kick any more butt,” offered Rishawn, suddenly sounding more like himself. We all laughed, then helped Dodger grab more wood before walking back toward camp.

  As we marched out of the field, I wondered how my friends were feeling. They seemed to be playing it off well. Although it wouldn’t be our first time we had to take a beating like that. I turned back toward the tree I had been sitting in, noting the red-stained grass below it.

  We were free now.

  As soon as we approached our tents, Dodger and the others began to fix a new fire. The clouds were thinning out finally and a peak of light bounced off the surface of the lake. We were all tired and moving slowly.

  Being left to my own devices for a few minutes, I shuffled toward the lake to wash my hands. The cut on my palm stung, but had finally stopped bleeding. I rested on my knees and leaned over the side of the water. My eyes trailed over the surface of the lake and I froze, stunned by my own reflection.

  The face I had become so familiar with had become someone else’s. This new person’s face was covered in blood and hardened with vigor. The green of her eyes were as saturated with color as the pine needles surrounding them. Dipping my hands into the lake, I was quick to wash the blood from my face, hoping the water would wipe away the remnants of this stranger. Instead, I looked into the reflection again and saw someone who had transformed into something much bigger than just a lost orphan.

  The person in front of me was enormous, strong, and fearless. Her eyes were tenacious and her stature was stoic. I stared at her, wondering where the self-conscious kid from this morning had gone. But before I could decide anything else about this new person, Dodger called out about the fire being ready.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  I sat alone under the tree that held the painted leaves we had hung up over a month ago as a group. I pulled out the sketchbook Theory had given me from my back pocket and began drawing each one. I smiled in between sketches, thinking of how far we had come as a family. No one had argued with each other in weeks and we seemed to have settled into a routine that worked for all of us. We had created a home here, on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere.

  The sun poked through the tree branches and lit the leaves up like tiny movie screens. Each rule spun in slow motion as the breeze danced past it, exposing the rainbow of earth tones Dodger has used to mix our paint. He was always so resourceful. I blushed a little, thinking of how close he and I had gotten since that night in the lake. The night we had kissed.

  I didn’t have long with my daydream until I heard Rishawn calling for me. “Sam? Sam, where did you go?”

  There was a worry in his voice that sent a shiver of fear through my system. We had been safe and happy as a group for so long, that I had almost forgotten what stress sounded like. I stood up and scanned the edge of the lake, wondering where my friend was calling from. “Rishawn? I’m by the leaves!”

  “Sam!” a voice blurted from behind the tree until it materialized into a young gentleman with a look of concern on his face. “There you are, thank God. I thought you left, too.”

  “What do you mean, ‘left, too’?”

  Rishawn worked to catch his breath. “They didn’t tell you?”

  I leaned over and set my hands on Rishawn’s shoulders. “Tell me what, friend? Who left where?!”

  “Mikayla and Dodger, they left camp to go look for her again.”

  My brain couldn’t process Rishawn’s words fast enough. “To go look for who? Rishawn, slow down and tell me what’s going on.”

  Rishawn took a deep breath and stood up straight, looking me dead in the eye. “Your sister, Sam. They left to go get your sister.”

  My heart stopped and I shoved my sketchbook back into my pocket. N
o one told me that they were leaving camp, let alone to go look for Nova again. I couldn’t figure out whether to be angry, worried, or offended. Why did Dodger keep trying to find her for me? Did he really know where she was? And why did Mikayla go with him this time? Since when did she care so much about my sister? None of this made any sense.

  I ran my fingers through my bangs and started pacing under the tree that held the rules that apparently no one cared about anymore. “I don’t understand. Rishawn, what did they say exactly?”

  “Nothing. I just found this note they left a little while ago. I don’t know what time they wrote it,” he said, passing me a torn piece of paper with camp fire ash streaked across it.

  Sam and Rishawn,

  We left to go get Nova. We know where she’s at and Mikayla came with me because she knows how to help. We should be back by sunset. I have the duck call in case anything happens. You guys relax and get dinner ready. We will all celebrate tonight.

  Love,

  Dodger and Mikayla

  “Ugh, this is so frustrating,” I finally grunted out loud. The fact that Dodger had brought the duck call likely meant he had anticipated something going wrong. We had made the duck call our official alarm system, to let the others know if any of us were ever in trouble and needed to evacuate camp right away.

  “What’s frustrating?” asked Rishawn, clearly waiting around for directions on how to react to everything.

  “How does Dodger know where my sister is? And why does he never tell me before he leaves to go get her? I should be going with him,” I said angrily, kicking the roots of the tree. None of us had spoken of Nova for weeks. Although I thought of her constantly, I had just assumed that Dodger had given up his quest to find her for me, so never brought it up again.

  “Maybe he doesn’t want you to worry,” Rishawn offered.

  “Then he shouldn’t keep being so sneaky about everything,” I said, instantly regretting being snippy with Rishawn.

 

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