by T. S. Welti
I don’t know the answer to this question. Or, maybe I know the answer, but I can’t say it aloud.
“I don’t want everyone knowing my business,” I reply.
“Don’t lie to me, Nada. He’s the only one who doesn’t know. When are you going to tell him?”
“Um… How long is it going to take us to get to Umbra?”
“You have to be kidding?”
“I can’t do it right now.”
I can’t see Isaac’s face behind me, but I can imagine the expression of utter disappointment he must be directing at the back of my head. He’s right. I need to grow up, take care of myself, and face my new reality.
“If you don’t tell him soon, I’m going to talk to him,” he says.
Daedric and Eve pass us on their way out of the building to set up the traps. I stare at their backs as they’re swallowed by the darkness.
I’ve doomed everyone to this abandoned courthouse until my foot heals. I should have just taken care of the blister when it first sprouted two days ago. And the worst part is now Isaac knows I haven’t told Daedric I’m pregnant and he probably knows why.
The truth is: If something should happen, something unspeakable, I might still have a chance with Daedric, but only if he never finds out about the pregnancy.
I’m a monster just for thinking it. I suddenly understand Mary’s desire to watch blood trickle from her self-inflicted wounds. If I had the courage, I would slip my jade knife out of my backpack, pretend I need to use the restroom, and end it all.
Eve bolts into the lobby with a look of pure terror marked across her pale features. Daedric isn’t with her and she’s still carrying one of the small animal traps.
“Somebody’s out there,” she says, as she tries to catch her breath.
Isaac bursts out of the sleeping bag and slips his boots on. “Where’s Daedric?” he asks, as he rushes toward Eve.
“I’m right here,” Daedric says, as he appears at the courthouse entrance.
“Who’s out there? What did you see?” Isaac asks, as he sticks his head out the entrance where the doors used to be and peers into the darkness.
Eve and Daedric exchange a look before Daedric speaks.
“She thought she saw someone watching us, but all I saw was a shadow,” he says, and Eve looks disappointed with this explanation. “It could have been a person or it could have been an animal.”
Eve doesn’t contradict him. She stuffs the animal trap into her backpack and sits next to her sleeping bag where Elysia lays softly snoring inside. She pulls her knees up to her face and mentally leaves the courthouse. Where she’s gone only she knows, but her memories of being assaulted by grave robbers six months ago are the most likely destination.
“Do you think it’s Vic?” I ask Daedric.
“If it’s him, he won’t show his face until he’s ready,” Isaac replies. “We can’t go to sleep. We have to talk about this.”
I slip out of the sleeping bag as Isaac strolls toward me. He squats next to me and places his hand on the back of my neck and kisses my forehead. My shoulders tense as I anticipate Isaac’s next words.
“Some of you may already know that Nada…” he begins and I can’t believe this is happening. He’s going to say it aloud. “She hurt her foot.”
Mary lets out a sharp cackle while Eve grins at Isaac’s inability to give away my secret. I try not to appear confused by Isaac’s words as Daedric looks confused enough for both of us.
“I think Nada’s a little tougher than you’re giving her credit for,” Daedric says.
I try not to smile at Daedric’s refuses to coddle me. “He’s right,” I say to Isaac. “We should head out in the morning. My foot is fine.”
“Your foot doesn’t have a say in the matter,” Isaac replies. “So speaking on behalf of your foot, we’re staying at least one more night.”
“So we’re just supposed to wait around like a bunch of sitting ducks while they’re out there planning who knows what?” Daedric says.
“I thought you said it could have been an animal. It might not even be Vic,” Isaac replies.
“I don’t want to wait here,” Eve whispers.
“None of us want to stay here and, I hate to say it, Nada, but my responsibility is to my sister… not your foot,” Daedric says, as he walks past us and takes a seat on his sleeping bag.
“Ouch. You offended my foot,” I reply and Daedric flashes me the most beautiful smile I’ve seen in weeks.
Isaac leans over and whispers in my ear. “A little maturity goes a long way, Nada. How about you don’t test my patience.”
“How about you don’t threaten me?” I whisper.
“Whatcha whispering over there?” Daedric says.
“The bottom line is you and your sister can’t get to Umbra without me, and I’m not going without Nada, so it looks like you’re along for the ride,” Isaac replies.
Now would be a good time for me to say something to ease the tension, but I’d rather just disappear.
“Maybe I should just stay,” I say. “I’m going to weigh everyone down. I should just go back to the cave.”
The cave where Isaac and I lived alone for almost a year after the Whitmore fire. The cave where I nearly died of starvation twice. The cave near the tree where I almost lost my virginity to Isaac over a year ago. The cave near the abandoned barn where Isaac and Mary used to do their dirty deeds in secret. The cave near the clearing where Daedric saved Isaac’s life.
“I’ll go with you.”
I whip my head around at the sound of Mary’s voice. She’s the last person I would expect to volunteer to go anywhere with me. She’s certainly the last person in this group I would want to go anywhere with—especially alone.
“You’re not going back there,” Isaac says to me. “None of us will survive out there. Especially with your foot in that condition.”
We’re taking this foot thing too far. If we keep at it, Daedric is going to catch on.
“I’ve got an idea,” Daedric says. “How about we stop running and start fighting?”
“We should have killed him when we had the chance,” Mary says.
For once, I agree with Mary. We never should have shown Vic any mercy. We should have killed him when he fell into the trap. Instead, we argued and debated his fate. We should never have left the cabin. At least we had weapons there. Now we’re back where we began: cornered prey.
“They’re right,” I say. “We have to fight back—and soon.”
When hunting prey, one must understand the delicate balance between patience and attack. Pounce too early and you’ll scare away the prey. Wait too long and you’ll miss your opportunity for a clean kill.
The only weapons we have are our knives, our wits, and our patience. Vic and the Guardians have proven themselves to be masters of weapons and patience—it’s wit they have always lacked. How long do we have before they wise up and pounce?
Isaac glances around at all our faces. This is his decision. He is our shepherd on this three-thousand mile journey.
He heaves a long sigh and nods. “Let’s get some sleep. We’ll head out before dawn… We’re leading him into the Northern Sector.”
CHAPTER 7
When Isaac and I were alone at the cave, we used to make the four-mile hike to the trading post together at least once a week. We met refugees from various sectors. Isaac’s charm had a way of putting people at ease until they spilled all their secrets. In all those encounters, we never met a single person who had migrated west from the Northern Sector. We did, however, meet plenty of dreamers who claimed they were moving north to escape the Guardians, but we never saw or heard from them again. I don’t know if this means they were quite content to live in the harsh cold of the Northern Sector or that no one makes it out of there alive.
Daedric and Isaac take shifts sleeping for two hours each. Isaac sleeps first and I have a difficult time falling asleep next to him when I know Daedric is a few feet away wide awake. A co
uple of hours later, Daedric wakes Isaac then he goes to sleep. The whole time I pretend to sleep as I marvel at how civil they’re being to each other. With Isaac awake it’s easier for me to relax, but as soon as I drift off, Isaac shakes my arm to wake me.
“Wake up, beautiful,” he whispers, as he plants a kiss on my temple.
My entire head, including my teeth, aches from lack of sleep, but I rise quickly because I know we have to get going. I immediately regret this when Isaac hands me a bag of trail mix and the first peanut I crunch down on is rancid. I spit it out onto the floor.
“We can’t build a fire here. If we could, I’d make you some oatmeal,” Isaac explains apologetically.
“I’m not hungry,” I say, as I roll up the sleeping bag and try not to breathe the stale musty scent it gives off.
Isaac doesn’t argue with me, which pleases and disappoints me at once.
“You should eat something,” Daedric says before he empties the contents of his packet of trail mix into his mouth.
Elysia and Eve trade the raisins and dried cranberries in their packets so Eve has all the cranberries and Elysia has all the raisins. Mary takes the packet of trail mix at my feet and exchanges it for hers.
“You can have mine. They’re still fresh,” she says, as she proceeds to crunch down on the rancid nuts.
I’m really not hungry, but I can’t refuse to eat now. I grab the packet Mary left at my feet and toss the half the contents into my mouth to choke it down as quickly as possible. Isaac stares at me as I eat, but his mind is clearly elsewhere. I can’t begin to speculate what he’s thinking, let alone what prompted this sudden act of kindness from Mary.
The avenue outside the courthouse is still dark and menacing, but the soft blue glow of the coming sunrise is a promise on the horizon. If we can get Vic to follow us into the Northern Sector, we may be able to find some allies. The stories of how people in the Northern Sector resisted the Guardians two years ago have become legend. If there is any truth to the legend, we may still have a chance.
The murky blackness between the buildings provides the perfect cover for Vic and his pals. But even Vic has to sleep. If we can sneak out of here before they wake, we may be able to get a few hours head start.
We walk so slowly down the avenue that I almost forget the painful burning in my blistered foot. Our change of direction from south, toward the desert, to west, toward the Rocky Mountains, will only hasten the deterioration. At least it will be so cold I probably won’t feel the pain.
We follow 5th Avenue all the way to the desert until we enter mountain lion country. There’s no way Isaac will let me attempt an attack on a mountain lion like the one I executed six months ago. But where there are mountain lions, there will be big game. Maybe I can catch a small antelope or deer.
“Stay close to me till we make it through the mountain pass to Salt Lake City,” Isaac says to me.
“That’s, like, four hundred miles from here,” I reply.
“I want you where I can see you,” he replies. “You think I don’t know the evil little hunting schemes you’re planning in your head right now?”
My jaw drops as I try to appear offended.
“You’re awfully worried about her foot,” Daedric remarks.
“What’s wrong with her foot?” Elysia asks.
Daedric shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“I can hunt,” Mary offers. “I may not be as fast as you, but my aim is better.”
Mary’s knife-throwing skills are nightmarishly accurate. She picked off two Guardians a few weeks ago with her killer arm. Whether her reflexes are fast enough to hit a moving target remains to be seen.
I shrug at her offer. I loathe the idea of her taking my place as hunter. Allowing Mary to hunt would be like conceding defeat. I might as well let Isaac stick a flag in me and declare victory.
I jump into the eight-foot deep ditch, which lays steps from the front door of the cabin. My heart is pounding out of my chest as I wait for Isaac to lower Qiana’s body to me. I can’t stop myself from wishing we could just toss her body down instead of lowering it gently. The darkness and the way my feet dig into the snow at the bottom makes me feel as though I’m sinking.
Finally, Isaac lowers Qiana’s corpse. He holds tightly to her waist and the slack expression on her face makes sick to my stomach. I swallow a small gulp of vomit in my throat as I wrap my arms around her legs.
“Lower her down more!” I yell at Isaac.
If he lets her go now, Qiana’s body will flop down and collapse on top of me. He struggles to hold of her arms while maintaining his grip on her waist. He attempts to slide her body down the side of the ditch, but he loses his grip and Qiana slumps on top of me.
Her eyes are open as I struggle to extract myself from under her dead weight. The blood from the gunshot wound in her chest is slick all over my hands and arms. I finally push her off and crawl to the other end of the ditch.
“Pull me up!” I shout to Isaac, but he doesn’t respond. “Isaac! Get me out of here!”
A cluster of snow floats down and smacks me in the face.
“It’s not funny! Get me out of here!” I shout, but my words are muffled by uncontrollable, chest-wracking sobs. “Please!”
The snow keeps pouring on top of my head and I can’t speak. Isaac can’t hear me. He doesn’t know I’m down here. I’m going to be buried alive and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
The shaking wakes me. My chest is trembling with the memory of my nightmare and Isaac is shaking my arm.
“Are you okay?” he says. “Are you having a seizure?”
I look around the walls of the cave where we’re camped out. The cave is so tall and wide it’s disorienting.
“I’m fine,” I whisper, as I take a deep breath and the frosty air stutters in my chest.
Isaac looks almost as frightened as I felt in my dream. “You were talking… with your mouth closed. It was really freaky. Then your chest kept jumping up and down. It looked like you were having a seizure or something.”
“I’m fine,” I say, because I don’t want to explain the details of my dream.
“Everything okay over there?” Daedric shouts from across the cave and the sound of his voice echoes off the walls.
“Fine!” I shout back.
“Foot hasn’t fallen off yet?” Daedric shouts back at me.
Isaac glares at me, daring me to respond.
“My crippled foot can beat your crippled foot in a sock race!”
Daedric and Eve laugh out loud. Even Isaac has trouble holding on to his evil glare.
“Challenge accepted!” Daedric shouts.
We go back to sleep, or at least I try. After an hour, my right arm falls asleep and I turn toward Isaac to let it wake up. He’s wide-awake.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper.
He brushes my hair out of my face and kisses me. It feels different than the last time we kissed. It feels rehearsed; I know exactly which way he’s going to move his head and mouth. Yet, somehow, the timing is off. It takes me a moment to realize I’m resisting.
He pulls his head back and rests his finger on my mouth. He brushes his fingers over my lips as if he’s seeing them for the first time. He runs the tips of his fingers over my jaw and down my neck. He traces a line down the front of my shirt and stops on my chest.
He lays his hand over my heart and within seconds Isaac and I are breathing in unison. He looks into my eyes and I pull his face toward me.
He unbuttons my jeans and I wriggle out of them. I unbutton his pants and slip my hand inside. I’ve never felt him in my hand and it’s oddly empowering. He kisses my neck as I guide him inside me.
It hurts again, but not as bad as the first time. He moves his hips slowly and smoothly. I pull off his shirt and place my hand over his heart. We gaze into each other’s eyes as our chests expand and contract in unison.
“I love you,” he whispers.
He pulls my shirt off and wraps his arms aroun
d me so our skin is plastered together from the chest down. He kisses me deeply as he slides in and out of me. My fingers grip tufts of hair on his head as both our bodies tremble. I hold my breath so I don’t wake the others with any involuntary shrieks of pleasure. Isaac lets out a soft moan before he collapses on top of me. Somehow, buried under the weight of his body, I feel safe.
He kisses me before he rolls off. “Scoot over so I can reach your pants,” he whispers.
“Leave them down there.”
He smiles and pulls me close. I lay my head on his shoulder and fall asleep instantly.
I wake before sunrise feeling as if someone has started a fire inside the sleeping bag. My body is drenched in sweat, both Isaac’s and mine. I turn away from Isaac and unzip the sleeping bag to let in some air. I lift the corner of the sleeping bag and fan the flap up and down as I savor the gusts of biting cold air against my bare skin. I peer across the cave and find Daedric sitting outside his sleeping bag staring at me. I close the flap over my naked body and hastily zip up the bag.
I pull the sleeping bag over my face and lay immobilized for a moment as the shame burns a hole through my chest. My heart says I should look up and face Daedric, but my head is whispering, “He knows.”
When I finally muster the courage to come out of my hiding place, he’s gone.
CHAPTER 8
My last words to my mother were, “Oh please, Mom. Stop being so dramatic. They’re not going to kill me.” I spoke these words with as much phony disdain as I could muster before I trotted off to speak to Isaac for the first time in my life. My mother knew bargaining with someone so close to the Guardians was dangerous. So did I, but I didn’t want her to know how terrified I was, so I blew off her concern as drama. To say this is the biggest regret of my life would be like saying the universe is a big place.
My second biggest regret is not taking Lara’s nightmares more seriously before she was murdered. I’m not certain that at fourteen years old I could have convinced my mother to leave our home, but I’ll never know because I never tried.