by Janean Worth
He’d startled the person, whoever they were. They’d heard his gasp over the gurgle of the water, and they jerked slightly and looked in his direction.
“Hello?” a tiny, girlish voice whispered.
When he didn’t answer, she continued to stare.
After a moment, her rusty sounding voice cut through the silent darkness again, “I can see you standing there.”
Her night vision must be better than his was, then.
“Hello,” he said finally, reluctantly.
“The Enforcers have left the area, so you might as well come out of the water now.”
How did she know that they had left? Mathew puzzled over it a moment before the answer came to him. She must be hunted by them, too. A Stray.
He felt his lip curl up in a sneer. A filthy Stray dared to speak to him. But then, wasn’t that what the Enforcers had called him? Wasn’t that what he was now? Still, his ingrained revulsion roiled in his stomach. How could he be what he’d grown up hating so much?
“Are you sure?” he asked, taking a step closer to the riverbank. He was tired of being wet. The river had washed away most of his filth, and he’d had plenty to drink since he’d been taking sips every so often as he walked. For a while, the water’s coolness had soothed his aches, especially on his blistered feet, but now he just felt soggy and uncomfortable. And tired. And hungry. Very hungry.
“Yes. I’ve been watching them for hours. They finally went back to the Gate. I thought they’d caught you, but they must have given up for now.”
He wasn’t sure if he trusted the girl. She could be lying. Perhaps she was part of an Enforcer trap. He stood still for a moment, listening, looking. It was true that it had been a while since he’d seen or heard the Enforcers. He dared another step toward the girl.
“I have a safe place to hide, where you can sleep. And a fire, so you can dry yourself.”
“Why would you want to help me?” he asked, skeptical and confused at her kindness. He wouldn’t have done the same in her place.
“It is the right thing to do,” she answered.
The right thing! Ha! Since when did people do the right thing? He certainly didn’t, not if he didn’t want to.
He took another step closer to the girl, then another. Soon, he was standing beside her on the riverbank. She stood when he reached her, and he was surprised to see that she only came up to his chest.
She was skinny and her eyes, like those of a skittish doe, were large in her thin face. He could see the prominent bones of her elbows and wrists sticking out from her tattered clothing - if her coverings could be called clothing. The bits and pieces of cloth were so tattered and frayed that they looked more like rags wrapped around her slight frame.
She gestured behind her, and he saw the faint outline of a thin animal path in the thick growth of underbrush. “Follow me?”
He still wasn’t sure he should trust her, but a safe place to sleep and a fire sounded wonderful to him. He stood there dripping on the bank of the river, wondering if he’d been stupid to come out of the water. Looking at her, he had no doubt that he could overpower her if he needed to. She was scrawny and small. It was that fact that convinced him to go with her.
“Are you alone?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered slowly. Her eyes grew larger, as if she’d just realized that he might be a threat to her.
He smiled at the thought. He could be threatening if he needed to be. Yes, he’d go with her. She was just a weak Stray. If he wanted to leave, he would. But until then, he would enjoy her hospitality.
Chapter Three
The boy wasn’t big or brawny; he was slender and soft from living an easy life. His ordinary brown hair hung in his face, drooping over deep brown eyes. Kara shouldn’t have been scared of him. But she was. There was something about him that got her instincts buzzing, warning her not to trust him, something that she hadn’t noticed from far away.
She’d been watching him most of the day. He hadn’t done a very good job of evading the Enforcers, and when she’d lost track of the Enforcers and seen them heading back, she’d thought he had been caught. But good fortune, or something else, had been with him, and he remained free. She’d felt sorry for him, as she’d watched the Enforcers track him. Even from far away, she could see that he hadn’t been a Stray for long. He had no idea how to take care of himself.
“It isn’t far,” she told him. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. Perhaps she should have left him alone. But she was just learning how to do the right things in life. Helping him had been the right thing, despite her fear of him.
“Ok. I’ll follow you,” his voice was smug in the darkness. She didn’t like it. She was weak and injured. If he decided to do something to her, there wasn’t much she could do to stop him. She gritted her teeth. It would have been easier not to help him. She’d found lately that doing the right thing was usually hard.
But she was determined to do the right thing anyway. She had to. In order to get where she was going, it was imperative that she learn how to do the right thing. Even if it was hard.
She nodded at him, then turned to lead him down the slender trail she’d found. The trail had been made by animals coming to drink from the river, so the Enforcers largely ignored it when they were in the area, which suited her purposes just fine.
She was sure the Enforcers didn’t even know she was out there in the wilds and she wanted to keep it that way. They’d probably assumed she was long dead. She hadn’t been hunted as vigorously as the boy was being hunted. She wondered for a moment what made him so special, and then quickly decided it was none of her business.
Carefully hiding her limp, she started down the trail. She could tell by the superior smile he’d given her that he already knew she was weaker than he was, she didn’t want him knowing that she was injured too.
“How long have you been a Stray?” she asked, just to make idle conversation with the boy. The silence between them was tense and uncomfortable. She wasn’t used to having companionship, and didn’t really know what to say to make things better.
She knew that she’d chosen the wrong thing to ask when the boy did not answer. The silence grew heavier and, it seemed to her, angrier. She hadn’t meant to make him angry. It was a simple question. She tried again.
“What is your name?”
The boy just grunted behind her. So much for conversation. She didn’t try again. The rest of the trip back to her cave was made in tense silence.
Leaving the trail, she took a circuitous route, making sure to cross over their own tracks several times. She was relieved when they finally arrived at the small cave. Her hip was aching from the awkwardness of her stride, caused by trying to hide her limp from him, and she was grateful that the long walk was finally over. She shouldn’t have helped him, especially when he was so obviously a danger to her. To make it worse, she’d aggravated her injury in the process. But then she reminded herself again that doing the right thing wasn’t going to be easy.
She pulled aside the thick growth of brambles and brush at the entrance to her cave, and crawled inside. Only the tiny hole near the top of the cave let in any light, making it difficult to see the interior of the cave, even though her sight had long ago adjusted to the darkness of night.
After the boy crawled in behind her, she was careful to arrange the brambles so that they blocked the entrance from view again. She could feel the boy’s heat beside her as she scooted farther inside to sit next to the fire circle she’d built. The cave wasn’t large, barely as wide as the stalls that they’d used for the horses when she’d lived inside the Gate, and not nearly as tall, but it was safe. And for now, it was her home.
The flint sparked in the darkness as she struck it with the blade of her knife, and in a moment, she had a small fire burning. She tucked the knife, her most precious possession, back into the cloth wrapped around her waist. She saw the boy’s eyes gleam in the faint light from the fire, his gaze following the
knife back into its hiding spot.
She shivered. He wanted her knife. She could tell. Her knife was the difference between life and death, though, so she would not give it up easily. With her knife, she could skin a rabbit for roasting, cut twigs and brush to weave baskets and make simple tools, dig in the soil to find roots and even defend herself if necessary.
She looked to the back of the cave and saw Jax’s eyes shining back at her. Without him, she would have died by now –even with her precious knife. She didn’t know what the boy would say when he finally realized that there was an animal in the cave with them, and she’d decided she didn’t care. Doing the right thing and helping him was fine, but if he objected to Jax, then he’d have to go.
“I have no food to give you,” she told the boy. “I’m sorry.”
Her own stomach growled at the thought of another night with nothing to eat, but she ignored it. It was easy to do. She’d gone to bed most nights lately with a growling stomach. Ever since she’d hurt her leg, she’d had a hard time gathering food and hunting.
The boy just looked at her, then he took the saddlebags from around his neck and plunked them onto the floor. She hoped he hadn’t heard her stomach growl.
“Might be some in here,” he said as he opened the bulging bags and started to root around inside.
“Those aren’t yours?” she asked, curious why he didn’t know what was contained in his own bags.
A crafty grin appeared on his face, “Nope, I stole them off of an Enforcer’s horse.”
She frowned. Stealing was definitely not the right thing. But, perhaps he didn’t have the same goal in life that she did.
Out of he bag, he pulled an oilcloth-wrapped bundle. To her surprise, the bundle contained a large hunk of a rich-looking, dense nut cake. Her mouth watered at the scent of almonds and spice. She hadn’t had a piece of cake in years. She waited for him to offer to share, but he didn’t. Instead, he took a large bite and chewed blissfully.
“Mmmm,” he mumbled through a mouthful. “So good. Was so hungry.”
Crumbs fell out of his mouth as he chewed, and Kara had to stop herself from darting across the cave to snatch them from his lap. She was hungry too. Didn’t the boy have any manners?
He rummaged around in the bag a bit more, using his other hand to stuff the cake into his mouth as fast as he could. In moments, the large chunk of cake was gone.
Kara sighed. Scooting back farther in the cave, she lay down upon her woven grass sleeping mat and pulled a ragged blanket over herself. She could survive another night without food. What she was really worried about was sharing her cave with the boy. He was obviously only concerned for himself. And she’d found out the hard way that those who were only concerned with themselves were usually a danger to others around them.
She glanced again toward Jax’s shining eyes at the rear of the cave, then held a corner of her blanket up and motioned for him to come to her.
The red fox kit shot under her cover in the blink of an eye, then snuggled in against her stomach. Jax was obviously as afraid of the boy as she was herself.
She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer of protection for herself and Jax. The boy was no good, she could already tell. He had bad manners, was an unrepentant thief, and coveted her only valuable possession. She sighed again, trying to renew her determination to do the right thing.
When Kara opened her eyes after her prayer, the boy had pulled two more cloth-wrapped bundles from the bags, and from their scent she could tell that they were food as well. The tantalizing scents of cured meat and dried apricots filled the air. Under the blanket, Jax snuffled. The little fox was hungry too.
“May I have some food, please?” Kara asked.
The boy looked surprised, as if he hadn’t even thought of offering some to her. Uncertainty crossed his features. Then came the crafty look, as if he was weighing the value of food against the value of her company. She could almost read his thoughts in that moment – and she stifled another sigh. The boy wasn’t only unmannerly and selfish, he was devious as well.
After a moment, he nodded, “Sure.”
He pushed the cloth-wrapped bundles toward her with his foot. “Take as much as you want.”
Surprised by his generosity, she sat up slightly, careful to keep the blanket covering Jax, and pulled the bundles over. She unwrapped them quickly, in case he decided to change his mind. Inside the first bundle was a large amount of cured ham, cut into strips, several thin rectangles of dried beef and a cloth pouch of dried apricots. The second bundle contained more of the nut cake.
She smiled, and quickly said a prayer of thankfulness, while wondering if it was wrong to be thankful for stolen food. She took three strips of the ham, a piece of beef, four apricot halves and then broke off half of the cake. It was an incredible bounty, enough food to feed her for several days.
She quickly wrapped the remaining food back up and scooted it back towards him. “Thank you. It has been several days since I’ve eaten.”
He stared at her, and for the first time, she thought she saw him soften a bit. “You’re welcome.”
She took a small bite of the ham, reveling in the saltiness of the meat as she chewed, then broke off a piece and put it under the blanket for Jax. He nibbled it contentedly from her hand.
She bit into the cake next, savoring the richness. It was every bit as delicious and wonderful as she’d thought it would be. She gave a small piece of that to Jax as well. The small fox ate it greedily.
“What is your name?” she asked him again.
“Mathew. You?” He’d pulled a water skin from the bag and took a huge swig of the liquid it contained.
“Kara,” she answered.
The boy pulled a folded blanket from the bag, and grinned. “Just what I needed.”
She smiled back. “There’s another mat over against the wall. You can use it for sleeping tonight if you wish.”
“Thank you.”
Mathew immediately scooted over to grab the mat and pull it closer to the fire. In a moment, he’d wrapped himself in the blanket and lain down. “I’m really tired. Are you sure it is safe here?”
“Yes, it is safe to sleep here. The Enforcers have never even come close to finding this place. It is well hidden and I covered our trail carefully.”
“Thank you for letting me stay here.” His appreciation seemed genuine, and again she was surprised. Perhaps she’d misjudged him.
“You’re welcome.”
Mathew pulled the half-empty saddlebags closer and used them for his pillow. Then he pulled a small packet from his shirt pocket and unwrapped it. A shiny object fell out into his hand.
Kara gasped as the object glinted in the meager light. “Is… Is that Old Tech?”
“Yes. I didn’t even know my mother had it. She said it was my father’s.”
Kara’s thoughts tumbled over each other. Old Tech!
“How…?” she asked, unable to finish her sentence as fear, excitement, anxiety, hope and joy mixed inside her.
The Old Tech glowed as he stroked its smooth surface awkwardly. She wondered if he knew how to use it, then, a moment later, she decided she didn’t care. It was working with or without his knowledge.
A man’s image formed on the smooth surface of the Old Tech, as if summoned forth by Mathew’s touch. Mathew gasped and sat up quickly.
“Father!” he whispered.
A moment later, the image winked out, leaving the Old Tech dark again.
Chapter Four
Mathew ignored the niggling of his rusty conscience as he snuck out of the small, dark cave. The pale pink of an unclouded sunrise was just beginning to stain the sky as he carefully pushed aside the brambles concealing the entrance to Kara’s meager home of rock and dirt. The air outside was crisp compared to the dank, close air inside the cave, and Mathew took a deep breath gratefully.
How he missed his clean home, filled with plenty of food and luxuries that he’d never even thought to be thankful for be
fore, such as air that didn’t smell of dirt. He missed the housekeeper and the room that she’d kept spotlessly neat for him each day. He missed the maid, and the clean clothing that she always insisted he wear. He missed his clean bed with clean sheets. And, mostly, he missed his mother, even the way she used to nag him constantly to finish the pile of work that his tutor gave him nearly every day. He even missed his tutor, who had been a grumpy taskmaster of a man.
He still could not quite believe the fact that he’d become an abhorrent, despised, filthy, ragged Stray, all in the course of one single day.
He straightened to his full height after exiting the cave, and his muscles protested the previous day’s activities with a host of twinges and aches.
He’d packed up the saddlebags as quietly as he was able inside the cave, including a few extra items of Kara’s and the knife that he’d filched from her while she was sleeping, and now he tossed them over his shoulder while he tried to decide where he should go from there.
It may have been better to stay in the cave with Kara for a few days, but by then his food would have all been gone, especially if he had to continue to share it with her.
No, he needed to leave now. And it was better to do it while she was asleep, so she wouldn’t put up a fuss because he’d taken her knife, her extra mat, her flint and a couple of crudely woven reed bowls.
He wanted to get far away from GateWide and the House, not sit around hiding in a cave waiting for the Enforcers to catch him. And she was obviously set on staying in the cave, not to mention that she was too weak to be of any use to him if they travelled together. He’d have always had to help her along, or give her food, or something. He didn’t need any burdens. He’d be lucky to survive just taking care of himself.
Still, he did feel a bit of remorse for taking her knife. That’s why he’d left her the rest of the cake. He’d even left the food that she’d saved from what she’d taken from the saddlebags the night before. He consoled himself with the thought that he hadn’t had to do that. He could have taken it all, plus her knife.