by Kaitlin Ward
“Yes, really. Besides, even if we didn’t have an anniversary, we still haven’t celebrated you getting the lead role in the play. I’m proud of you.”
I close my laptop slowly. I don’t know what to say.
So I don’t say anything. I cross the room and I kiss him.
“Finally,” he teases. “If I’m not going to see you again till Saturday, we definitely need to be making out more.”
“You’re such a dork.” I loop my arms around his neck. “But I guess that’s what I like about you.”
He kisses me this time, and I can’t help but think that it’s too bad they can’t bottle up kissing and sell it as a medicine. His mouth on mine makes all my problems disappear.
Tomorrow, I’ll go to the harvest party and win Cara back from her weird commune friends. But tonight, I will feel nothing but happiness.
If I’m being real, driving to the Haven creeps the heck out of me. The road is such a mess and I cannot even let myself consider what I’d do if I broke down out here. No cell service. I’d have to walk really far. And I’m alone this time; no one to walk with me if it happens.
I clutch the steering wheel steady with sweaty fists and try to enjoy the scenery. The trees on either side of me, sloping up steep hills that turn into mountains. While I may not be a fan of the weird shacks and the lack of electricity and plumbing, I can’t deny that they picked a great location for this place. The view during the drive is nice, and from the commune, it’s breathtaking. Of course, with those breathtaking views come the breathtakingly large dock spiders. I’m sorry, I can’t let go of the dock spider incident. I will never let go of it.
I’m nearly there, now, if I recall correctly. I’ve left civilization and pavement behind. Conifers have replaced buildings. Boulders have replaced billboards. My car bumps over stones that have become slowly exposed over time, with all the wear that this muddy barely-a-road has seen.
I slow to a crawl as the road continues to narrow; branches shriek as they scrape along my windows. I cringe. The mud is really thick right now, too. It’s not what you’d expect this time of year, more like the kind of mud you see after spring rains. My tires spin slickly through it, spraying up globs of muck onto my side windows. And then it happens.
I turn a sharp corner … and my car just sinks.
It’s like the car was on a platform and someone yanked it out. Or maybe this place is like the Swamp of Sadness in The Neverending Story and my car’s gonna get swallowed up like Atreyu’s horse. I press my foot down on the pedal. The tires spin and the car slides a little bit from side to side, but I’m definitely stuck. Like, it’s not even worth me trying to get out level of stuck.
This could not be worse.
With an exasperated growl, I open the car door. I can only open it about a foot, because I’m so deep in the mud that the door hits a rock. Great. Using my best athletic abilities, I wriggle out and launch myself to the side of the path. I almost fall backward into the mud, but at the last second I catch hold of a tree branch and steady myself. It’s not graceful, but it works.
So I guess not everything about nature is bad. I give the tree a little pat of thanks and start on an unsteady trek the rest of the way to the stupid Haven. It’s not far but it’s not a fun walk. I’m staying to the edge of the road so that my shoes don’t get coated in mud, but the ground still oozes even here on the edges, and my sneakers are looking a bit browner than they did when I left school. I haven’t seen any ticks yet, and fall isn’t their most active season, but I still can’t stop feeling like one’s crawling on me.
I’m not even going to think about the larger dangers that might be out here. Bears, wolves. Not much I can do if one of those finds me.
I haven’t been walking long when I notice what looks like a footpath branching off from this main road. It’s extremely narrow, and if it weren’t fall, I don’t think I’d even have noticed it through the leaves. I wonder if, by chance, it circumvents this monstrosity of a mud pit they call a road. If it starts to lead me too far astray, I can always turn back, but for now, I decide to risk it.
The ground is much drier on this path. I made the right choice. Wispy tree branches grab hold of my arms as I pass by, but other than that, not too much obstructs me. Once away from the road, the path widens a tiny bit. Enough so that the branches aren’t in my way anymore. I’m heading away from the road, but curiosity has gotten the better of me, so I’m going to follow the path and see if it meets back up somewhere.
It doesn’t.
It ends after I’ve been walking for about another ten minutes. And it ends at a small concrete building backed up against a steep, rocky hill. To call it a building is maybe too strong. It’s outhouse-sized, maybe five feet square. It’s taller than me, but only by a few inches, and the roof is a flat concrete slab. What is this building and what’s it doing out here away from the commune? Part of me doesn’t want to know, but a much larger part of me knows that I am absolutely going to open that door.
It’s heavy. The door isn’t concrete like the rest; it’s made of thick metal, and it is quite narrow. But the hinges are a little rusty, and the door’s thicker than a normal one, so I have to use both hands to swing it wide.
Inside, there’s … nothing. It’s a windowless, concrete box. I hold up my phone’s flashlight to see if I’m missing something hidden away in one of its darker corners, but it’s empty. The floor has a couple of vaguely rust-colored streaks that unsettle me a little, but upon closer inspection, I don’t think they’re blood. I’m telling myself they’re not, anyway.
The inside of the door doesn’t have a handle. The outside of the door has a lock.
I don’t know why this building is here or what it’s used for, but whatever its purpose, it isn’t good. If you got trapped in there and the lock was closed … I don’t know if anyone could even hear you scream. I push the door closed, the way I found it, and that’s when I notice the tiny circled logo engraved in the metal. The H is distinct, the word verum barely legible.
So this belongs to the Haven, too. Awesome.
I back away, quickly, and trot back the way I came until I meet the road. This place is the worst. I’m getting Cara out of here the moment she’s willing to come, and we are never looking back.
Finally, after what feels like a century of walking, I make it to the field that edges the commune. Cara’s car is parked here. It’s dirt-streaked, too; looks like whenever she last drove it, she didn’t have an easy time, either. I spot her immediately. She’s standing by the fire pit, talking to a couple other girls. Jealousy flares in my chest. She looks happy, animated. Avalon clings to her leg.
Are these new friends better than me? I don’t understand why. They’re nothing like anyone we hang out with at home. They’re nothing like Cara and me. At least, the Cara I thought I knew.
My eyes lower to Avalon. I suspect that little girl is a big part of the draw, and I want to be happy for Cara to have found someone who can patch up the hole in her heart, but I’m not. All I feel is resentment. Mixed with some guilt and shame over my selfishness.
Cara hasn’t noticed me yet. I remind myself that there’s a pretty big expanse of space between us, but right now it feels like the expanse is more than physical. I lean my shoulder against a pine that towers behind her car. I’m a little chilly and I realize it was moronic to wear only a sweatshirt and not consider that it’d be cooler in the dappled light of the forest, shaded by the towering pines.
I’m being creepy, I guess, standing here watching my best friend talk to other people. But I’m just trying to decide if she looks like that when she talks to me. I think she does. Or used to.
I sweep my eyes across the Haven, looking for familiar faces. I should have interacted with more people when I came before. I remember hardly anyone’s names, and that’s going to make me look like a real jerk.
One of the girls with Cara spots me, and points. Cara gestures me over, an exaggerated leaping wave of both hands, and I can’t
help the grin that spreads over my face. I disentangle from the tree and trot over, not caring how dumb and overeager I look.
Cara hugs me when I reach her; it feels familiar and normal and I don’t want to let go.
“You came!” Cara says. She squeezes my hand and then pulls away.
“Of course I came. Can’t let you celebrate the harvest all by yourself, can I?”
Avalon giggles, and I’m not sure why. I glance down at her with a hesitant smile. She hides her face in Cara’s side. The behavior seems a little young, but I guess six-year-olds can be shy sometimes, too.
“Been a while since we’ve seen you,” says one of the other girls.
“Yeah.” I try to smile again, but it goes even worse than before. “I mean, I have school and drama club and everything, and I know you guys have a pretty scheduled routine.”
“Can I talk to you alone for a minute, Mailee?” Cara intercedes.
Gladly.
I extricate myself from the other two and I’m trying not to look smug but my face is doing it anyway. Cara walks me back toward the spot where her car is parked; away from the camp itself. She looks around confusedly.
“Where’d you park?” she asks.
“Oh, just in the middle of the mud puddle where I got stuck.”
“Ugh, I’m sorry, Mailee. I should’ve warned you that the road up was pretty bad. Firehorse should be able to pull you out.”
“Thanks. I hope he can. It’s really stuck.” I consider telling her about the weird concrete structure I found, but she’s being so friendly, I don’t want her to get defensive.
“I really wanted you to come tonight,” Cara says. “I’m glad you did.”
“Me too.” I lock down the sense of foreboding her expression gives me.
“So I misled you a tiny bit about what this celebration is for.” She brushes a streak of dust off the hood of her car, not meeting my eye. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come if I told you everything.”
My stomach turns to lava. “It’s not a harvest celebration?”
“No, it is. I mean, it’s that and also … it’s going to feature my initiation ceremony,” she says hastily. “I’m going to become a member of the Haven. I’m going to live here.”
“You’re … what?” I have to keep calm. The worst thing I can do right now is to lose it about this but I am reeling. Totally blindsided. “Look, Cara, I know you like hanging out here, but your parents are never going to let you do this.”
“You know when my birthday is,” she says coolly.
Next week. She’ll be eighteen. “I see.”
The expression on her face shifts; her brows pull together and her lips twitch down. “I really want you to stay. It would mean so much to me if you were here for this and if … well, I think Firehorse would let you join, too. We could both live here!”
Why would I ever want to? Has she totally forgotten who I am? Who she is? That’s what I want to say, but I restrain myself. “I’ll stay tonight,” I decide. “But joining … I’m not exactly a living-in-the-woods kind of girl. You know that.”
“I didn’t think I was, either, but it’s not so bad. If I can do it, you can do it. And it’s really … ” Something in her expression darkens again. There are secrets behind her eyes. “It’s safe here. I want you to be safe here with me.”
“Safe from what?”
“Come on.” She grabs my arm and pulls me back toward the camp. “I’ll let Firehorse explain the rest about the ceremony.”
If she wasn’t tugging on me, I’m not sure my feet would have lifted on their own. I came expecting a party, maybe kind of a weird party, but not this. Not secrets and not my best friend leaving me forever to live like a modern caveperson. How am I supposed to become a famous actress if I live in the woods forever? Suddenly, I wish I’d said yes when Gavin asked if he should come. I thought having him here would be too raw; Cara hasn’t wanted to be around the two of us together ever since what happened with Jackson, and I don’t want to push her away even more. But she’s pushing herself away. At least Gavin could help me figure out what to do next.
Cara knocks on the door of Firehorse’s shack. One thing I’ll give him is that his shack is no fancier than any of the others. He’s their leader, but his living accommodations and his food intake are no different than anyone else’s, and that’s respectable. Still, I have developed such a visceral dislike of him. When he comes swaggering out with his shoulder-length gray-peppered brown hair and his demonically blue eyes, I suppress a shudder. I don’t know how I was so drawn in by him at first.
Everything about him screams fake. Right now he’s walking slowly, whittling something with his giant hunting knife. But I’m skeptical that he even knows what he’s doing. It all seems like a big show. At least he’s not wearing his dumb dreamcatcher necklace today.
I didn’t realize, until now, that all my hurt at Cara’s abandonment was covering up another feeling, a sense of concern. There’s something not right about this place. About Firehorse. This hippie toxin-free vegan commune front is hiding something about Firehorse’s true goals. If only I knew what, though.
“Greetings, Mailee,” Firehorse says. He puts away his whittling project and hooks his thumbs on either side of his belt buckle, which is a new, unique touch to his appearance. The buckle is white, sort of odd shaped, maybe a stone.
I suppress an eye roll. “Greetings.”
“I’m glad to see you here.” He doesn’t sound glad at all. But I can’t bring myself to say I’m happy to be here, so I guess we’re even. He lets the awkward silence stretch on between us, probably trying to get me to say something. I stay strong, even though I can feel Cara radiating unhappiness from beside me. If Firehorse doesn’t care if I’m comfortable, then I don’t care if he is, either.
The rest of the commune is slowly and quietly encircling us. Like a cohort of ants that’s found a big dying bug; reaching out eagerly to start tearing into its flesh before its life has even ended.
Firehorse claps his hands together delightedly. “Let’s get started, then.”
I turn around. The metal side of his shack is icy against my shoulder blades, even through my sweatshirt. But from here, I can see everyone semicircled around us, and I feel slightly less uncomfortable.
“We are delighted,” Firehorse begins, “to finally initiate Cara as one of our own. She has been working very hard toward this for months, and I’m so happy, as I’m sure we all are, to see her work pay off.”
The gathered semicircle claps enthusiastically. Cara’s grin is monstrous. She isn’t looking at me at all, but Firehorse is, out of the corner of his eye. Reluctantly, I join in the clapping, feeling very much like an outsider.
“Our mission is an important one,” Firehorse continues, and he cracks a knowing smile at the group. “Not that any of you need reminding.”
His eyes flick to me again, and my discomfort grows.
“This initiation ceremony is going to be extra special. It’ll be our last, and we’ll be visiting the Cave for the end of the ritual. I’m very excited that the first harvest celebration will be such a memorable event.”
Something about the way he says cave feels like it’s asking for capitalization and I’m not so sure how I feel about that. I don’t like the way he says the word harvest, either, like he’s got an inside joke going with himself. I hold in my questions, though. Stay quiet, Mailee. Now’s the time to just go along with things. Getting Cara out of this will have to come when we’re not surrounded.
And when she doesn’t look so …
Adoring.
The way she’s looking at Firehorse, I want to be sick. It’s the way you look at a parent, or the way I used to look at my older brother when we were kids and I thought he knew everything. What has he done to deserve that look from her? He’s no one.
“Your trust, your belief, it’s more important now than ever. When the world changes, when everything falls apart and people are desperate, it will make all the difference.
You will be safe. We will be safe. We have all made sacrifices, and we have been very patient. But it’s near now, I can feel it. Can you all feel it?”
Everyone nods. Even Cara. I’m frozen. I know Firehorse is watching me again but I don’t know what the hell is going on here, what I’m supposed to feel or trust or believe. I can’t make myself nod.
“Good,” Firehorse says, almost to himself. Then, more loudly, “Let’s prepare, then. It’s a long trip out to the Cave.”
The group disperses, and they all start shouldering hiking backpacks. Wait. We’re going somewhere else, somewhere … out in the woods? And we’re going right now.
I mentally rewind through everything Firehorse just said, and my stomach seizes with a sudden realization. Something I should’ve seen much, much sooner.
This place is not a hippie commune.
It’s a cult.
“Cara. You need to tell me what’s going on. Now.”
She and I are alone in one of the metal shacks, but I don’t think we have long. I need to get her to leave this place, which means I need to be nicer but I am so freaked out and so furious.
“It’s a harvest celebration, like I told you before. And my initiation ceremony is the highlight.” She hauls on a hiking backpack the size of her body. “I don’t know all the details about it, because you’re not supposed to know beforehand. I just know that we have to go to the Cave, and that the whole event lasts three days with, like, traveling and stuff.”
“Three days? Cara, I told Gavin I’d be back tomorrow. He’s going to freak out. Not to mention my parents, who don’t even know where I am. If I don’t go home or even call for three freaking days, I will be grounded until I’m out of college.”
“Don’t worry about that. Firehorse has a phone with one of those range extender things on it. He’ll let you call them on the way. Just tell your parents we’re on a weekend camping trip. They won’t care.”
Gavin will, though. He’ll know something’s wrong. And something is definitely wrong here. “I thought Firehorse was against cell phones. Because of the electromagnetic field thing.”