by T K Foster
They ran.
Firstly they ran to catch up with Cetra and Rod.
“Come on pig boy, keep up. When all this is done with I still have to kill you.”
Secondly they ran to stay on the trail of the Humps.
“Superb of you lads to join us,” Rod encouraged them with his nose in the air and his claws pinned to Cetra’s T-shirt.
“I can’t see them,” Barret puffed, “how far ahead are they?”
“Past those bushes,” Rod answered.
Barret glanced about at the bushes and rocks which surrounded them on every angle, “Which ones?” he asked.
“Does it really matter?”
“Of course it matters, how do you even know where you’re going?”
Without breaking her odd sideways stride, Cetra pointed at the big, heavy footprints in the dirt trailing off before them.
“See lad, the girl has everything under control.”
So they continued to run for many hands, slowing their pace every so often to allow Briar to catch up, and following in the footsteps of three heavy footed Humps.
“Oh look,” said Rod, “a forest.”
In the forest they rested a short while, ate some berries, and sipped the sap from a Sipasap tree.
Cetra spoke to Briar, and she was not smiling.
“Why did you do that Briar? Billy did trust you.”
Well if that wasn’t enough to make Briar feel ever guiltier than before.
“The Humps pay me to steal for them,” he whispered so as not to draw any attention from Barret.
“You what, boy?” Rod popped out from behind Cetra’s neck and yelled, “That’s a nasty way of surviving.”
“Shush....” Briar begged, gesturing toward Barret, “You’ll set him off again.”
“And well he has the right,” Rod continued in the same voice, “You betrayed your comrades, and delivered your friend into the hands of the enemy.”
“But....” Briar stammered.
“I think that deep down you are a better person than that,” Cetra said.
“Pig more like it,” Rod judged, “Once a pig, always a pig.”
“But....”
“I do not want to be too harsh on him, Rod. Maybe he had a reason?”
Cetra looked at Briar with those big eyes of hers and waited for him to respond.
“I....” he started, “I didn’t know they’d take Billy.”
“But why, Briar, why?” Cetra pleaded.
“Because that’s what he does,” Barret snarled, catching everyone by surprise as he approached from the side. “He’s a common thief, selfish pig; only he went too far this time and got caught up in the middle.”
Briar looked at the ground so as to avoid Barret’s contemptuous gaze.
“I was lucky when I got to know you all, that’s when I knew I’d made a mistake, but it was too late by then, the Humps were expecting me to deliver.”
“You sneaky beggar,” Barret seared with hot realisation, “You can talk to them, can’t you?”
Briar’s lip dropped, “Yes,” he muttered softly.
“Well....” Barret clasped his hands together, “It’s a good thing I haven’t killed you yet, you’re still of some use to us.”
“Yes Briar,” Cetra spoke directly, “You can tell the Humps to give Billy back to us.”
Briar’s face turned upwards with an opened mouth look of exasperation, “You can’t just go up to a Hump and tell him to give something back, he’d kill you.”
Barret clucked his tongue and winked, “Save me the trouble,” he said gladly.
“Well lad,” Rod piped up again, “seeing as you have an acquaintance with these creatures, it seems only fair that, having landed us all in this mess, you best think up a plan to get us all out of it.”
The other two agreed with an evident mixture of sarcasm and doubt.
Briar stared at each of their faces in turn.
“I don’t know,” he said finally, “I only steal for them, not from them.”
“Like we’re giving you a choice?” Barret said.
During the next few moments of silence a cool breeze whistled softly through the tree branches and beckoned for them to continue their flight through the forest.
Barret shuffled his feet and said, “Think quick pig-face, we need to catch up to them before it gets dark.”
So with their energy reserves newly replenished they ran, and they kept running until before long they came to the edge of the forest.
“Oh look,” said Rod, “golden savannah.”
The grass was tall here, and Briar ran below its waving surface, directed only by the sight of Barret’s boots ahead of him. Soon though it changed into something far more colourful and stood at a height which was far more acceptable to Briar’s line of vision.
“Oh look,” said Rod, “a field of blue flowers.”
Now some folk have been known to cry when the blue flowers wave at them; it has been said by those same folk that when the blue flowers sing they sing a song that will drain your eye of all its tears until eventually you are emotionally spent and laying in a foetal position on the ground beneath their bright blue canopy.
But as it were, and on this particular day, no such phenomenon would be taking place; at least not concerning our four much focused travellers. On the other hand, and only a short distance ahead of them, a rather runtish Hump had indeed, it seemed, fallen prey to the lure of the flowers, and as such was curled up amongst their intoxicating blueness.
Cetra was the first to see the lump, walk over to it, and softly prod it with her foot.
“Good grief,” Rod gasped, “is it dead?”
Briar followed. He stood as close as he could and kicked it as hard as his little foot and short leg would facilitate.
“He was asleep,” Briar said, “now he’s not.”
The Hump grunted like Humps do and got to its feet slowly and awkwardly.
Barret glared at them from a short distance away. “Will you lot stop playing with the miniature Hump and get a move on,” he said.
Miniature indeed! It stood barely a foot taller than Briar, who by any standard was only a kneecap in height; so menacing it wasn’t, formidable definitely not, it appeared more like an ugly, oversized stuffed toy kept at the bottom of a child’s bed.
“Bwiaw,” it yelled and then rubbed its eyes hard with two plump hands.
For a moment there was silence, and then Briar switched on, “Grarrt?” he yelled back.
“Howawyou?” it said this time.
In the background Barret groaned with frustration and shook his head in disbelief. He also stuck his tongue out and went “ugh” before turning away.
“Topey stumped at seeing you again,” Briar answered back.
The two eyed one another for a short moment and growled; then without warning, being both surprising and disgusting at the same time, they belly flopped each other, creating a sound not dissimilar to that made when a wet towel is dropped from a height of three feet into a bucket of beetroot jelly and is then subsequently sucked to the bottom.
After that they both laughed and touched their knees.
“You were asleep,” Briar said.”
Grarrt put his hands behind his back and rubbed his foot over the ground. “Bwoofwowersgetmeevwytime.” he said.
Briar turned to his companions and invited them all to meet Grarrt. Both Cetra and Rod were earnest and welcoming, they extended handshakes and exchanged pleasantries. Barret on the other hand stood aloof and greeted him with a nod and a wary “Hey.”
“Grarrt can talk like us,” Briar announced with pride, he had been the one to teach him.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Barret scoffed quietly and then coughed into his hand.
“I did not know they could speak normal.” said Cetra.
“They all speak normal,” Briar explained, “They just do it really badly. But Grarrt here’s smarter.”
“Is he smart enough to help us?” Barret said impatiently, “because
if he isn’t.... it’s time to go. So let’s hoof it.”
“Hewpwithwhat?” Grarrt asked.
In short, Briar spoke of their journey and its unforseen predicament.
“HowibwHumps,” Grarrt protested, “Iwiwhewp.”
The three travellers looked to Briar for translation.
“He wants to help,” he said.
“Good then, let’s go.”
It wasn’t suddenly in Barret’s nature to trust a Hump, nor be allied with one for any given cause, and Briar’s self presumed freedom to flirt his knowledge of their quest since his act of betrayal was certainly unsettling; nonetheless, the prospect of rescuing Billy without either of them seemed doubtful. Barret would just have to see how this next part of the journey played out.
“Oh look,” said Rod, “a plain of grass with scattered trees.”
They continued to run in a straight line, still following the deep footprints in the earth. Beneath their own feet, and maybe because their burdens were far less than the weight of a Hump’s, the grass appeared to spring back, propelling them forward with a greater velocity than experienced before. A comforting thought really, for all around them the trees were said to come alive when darkness falls, and the night would be upon them very soon.
“Oh look,” Rod said, “a corn field.”
Grarrt led the way through the tall stalks and came to a stop only when they had gone as far as the opposite side where they remained hidden just within the field’s fringe.
The little Hump pointed a stubby finger and then sat on the ground.
Beyond their camouflage was a hill. It was a big hill, not so much in height but in width. Around its perimeter was dotted with many large stone outcrops, all similar in distance apart and all giving the same impression that together they held up the entire hill. In these outcrops there were holes, some small, some bigger, and others that, from a distance, appeared to be caves; they were all dark and particularly quiet.
“ThatisTheHump,” Grarrt said.
The Hump....
Original or not, it was just one of many underground strongholds constructed and inhabited by the Humps, each of which was known as The Hump, but not to be mistaken with every other stronghold also known as The Hump. That is to say that, as confusing as Humps have always been to those who refuse to understand them, including even the waving blue flowers of the field, if one were to arrange a rendezvous with a fellow Hump at The Hump, both would, in no uncertain terms, indeed meet up at The Hump.... Or something to that affect.
“Wewiwaittiwitdawk,” Grarrt now suggested.
“He said it’s better if we wait until it’s dark,” Briar translated.
They all joined Grarrt on the ground and waited. Darkness began to grow as they stared out at the hill with its shadowy holes and greying stones.
Barret turned from his gaze and laughed. He laughed at the ear shaped corn all around them. He snapped two off and held them to either side of his head. “Hey look,” he said, “ears of corn.”
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO