The pack was too heavy for Adam to carry on one arm and they didn’t want to risk the wounds reopening. Ashar already worried that Adam shouldn’t be trekking through the forest in his condition, but wasn’t willing to stay another night in their campsite. He knew that it was no longer safe anyway. Not with the smoke of the fire broadcasting their location for so long.
There were only a couple of hours left before nightfall. Ashar motioned in front of him. “You should lead, Carl. Head north, watch for marked trees or rock piles.”
“Uh, me?” Carl blinked at him, shook his head. “I don’t even know which way north is.”
Ashar pressed his teeth together, fisted his hand at his side. “Fine. You take up the rear, make sure Adam is okay.” He didn’t wait for an answer, but led the way into the trees, eyes scanning the ground for signs that would tell him he was going in the right direction.
It became obvious quickly that Marcus was adept at leaving a trail. A snapped lower branch, a section of trampled ground cover. A circle or line of rocks. He left them far more often than every mile and while Ashar appreciated the markers, they added to his suspicion.
Marcus had known that he could track, and he was making it too easy.
If he’d left the trail for someone clueless about tracking, he’d done an excellent job. Carl could easily have followed it alone with only minimal stumbling around.
Ashar left the trail as the light was dimming to set up camp. His back ached from the weight of carrying two packs even though he and Carl had been passing it back and forth frequently. His fingers throbbed from his raw skin.
“Carl, see if you can find anything to eat,” he ordered as he set his pack down. “I’ll pull some pine boughs to sleep on.”
Adam had already sat, his face pale, lips pressed tight in pain.
Ashar knelt by his side, opened his coat and shifted the fabric away from where it covered the wound. He frowned at the blood-soaked gauze. “Lean forward, let me see the back,” he instructed.
The back was better. Only a minimal amount of blood spotted the bandage.
“I think some of the front stitches have torn. I’ve never sewn anything before,” he apologized, rising to take the bedroll from Adam’s pack. He spread it over Adam and dug out the first aid kit. “We’ll clean it up and have Carl re-stitch it. Be right back.”
He trampled through the underbrush, found a pine tree with low hanging boughs and stripped several free, carrying them back to spread them over the ground, going back a few more times to make sure he had enough to keep them all warm. The nights had begun to dip in temperature.
Adam gratefully spread out and huddled into his sleeping bag, murmuring a thank you to Ashar as his eyes closed.
Carl had not returned so Ashar built a small fire and then headed out to set some traps with the hope that they would have meat for the morning. He kept an ear tuned for any odd sounds from camp, still worried that Carl intended foul play. Adam was the only one he had decided was safe. If he had been Axis, Monty wouldn’t have shot him.
He found a scatter of chestnuts and gathered them, grateful. They needed protein to travel long distances on foot.
Ashar was almost finished breaking open the nuts and Carl had still not returned. There wasn’t much light left. Continually, he scanned the trees around them, searching for any sign that Carl was hiding. If Monty had had a gun, then Carl could as well, and it would be easy to pick him off before he even had a chance to defend himself.
He’d chosen the thickest tree to lean against to protect his back, and he faced Adam’s sleeping form. He liked Carl. That was the problem. The kid was likable. Always willing to help, not a lot of complaining, and he had a tendency to stick up for those around him if he disagreed with what was happening.
John and Drew hadn’t warned him about Carl, they’d warned him about Monty. Wouldn’t they have picked up the same undercurrent from both of them? Of course, Monty had been disgruntled and argumentative from the beginning, so his attitude hadn’t invited friendship.
“Hey.”
Ashar jumped, dropping the chestnut in his hand. He jerked toward the right, his hand sliding into his jacket pocket where he had stored the gun.
Carl ambled in, a slight grin on his face, holding up the fabric they used to gather edibles, the sides bulky and uneven. “I found some berries! A ton too! Most of them are overripe, but man, I was excited to stumble across them!” Carl settled easily on the ground beside Ashar, carefully setting the fabric sack down and spreading out the sides. “You found chestnuts? Man, we’ll be eating like kings tonight.”
He smiled at Ashar and tugged his pack close to him, unzipping it and rummaging through it without a care for the things that tumbled out around him as he searched.
“What are you looking for?” Ashar asked, taking his hand out of his pocket and peering into Carls bag, trying to see if there was anything in it that was suspicious. Several of his clothing items were strewn around him, a first aid kit, matches, binoculars.
“Ah!” Carl exclaimed, and tugged out an empty plastic container, sending a few more items tumbling out as he did. “I knew it was in here, I just forgot I stuck it on the bottom because it was empty.”
“Why don't you tie it to the side of your pack like I did?” Ashar suggested. “It’s probably one of the most useful items in my pack, so I like to make it easy access.”
“Good idea,” Carl agreed and haphazardly began shoving things back in his bag.
“We need the first aid kit,” Ashar said. “The stitches I did look like they may have come loose so I was going to have you stitch Adam back up.” Ashar searched for the pieces of a chestnut he had dropped, not willing to waste them just because they had touched the ground.
“Sure thing,” Carl agreed, glancing toward Adam. “Should I wait ‘til he wakes up?”
“I don’t know. There isn’t a lot of blood, but…” Ashar had very little experience with wounds and had no idea how to care for one.
“Well, we’ve got food, so I’ll wake him up and take care of that. It’s almost dark but I can try and set some traps up tonight?” Carl rose with the kit in hand and moved to Adam’s side, gently tapping him on the chest to wake him.
“I already set up some traps,” Ashar told him. “I’ll divvy this up and put the rest in your container.”
Carl, distracted by his mission to take care of Adam had set the container next to the berries and forgotten about it, nor had he bothered to zip up his pack.
Eying the gaping backpack, Ashar glanced between it and Carl, who was apologizing to Adam for bothering him.
Ashar hated that he was so torn. Carl wasn’t acting like an enemy at all, but still, Ashar could not convince himself that he could trust him, or anyone now. People had died because he had trusted someone. “Uh, you mind if I organize your pack? It’s kind of a mess now.”
“That’d be great. I’m kind of a slob, really. My mom…” He cleared his throat. “Well, she razzed me a lot for it. I had a habit of leaving a trail of my things.” He injected some cheer into the last part, making fun of himself.
“I’m sorry,” Ashar murmured sympathetically as he removed everything from Carl’s bag. Carl wasn’t wrong. As helpful as he was, he got distracted easily and often did leave a trail.
The bag empty, he slid his hands along the nylon fabric, feeling for hidden items, glancing often at Carl. There was nothing. The most dangerous item in his pack had been a hunting knife, one that they all had a version of to carry. It was necessary for hunting, foraging, and surviving in general.
He repacked everything in a more organized fashion and zipped the pack up, setting it aside. He turned his attention to the food, separating everything into four sections. One for each of them to consume and one to add to the plastic container for the next day.
It didn’t occur to him until they were eating that, like him, Carl could have a weapon on him, tucked away in a pocket like the gun he carried in his. He didn’t know a thing
about guns, had never wanted to, but his was small enough to conceal, so obviously others would be too.
And Monty had had two. The one they had found in his pack Ashar had buried in his. The one used to shoot Adam he had left behind with other supplies they’d had no room to take. It had been a large pile, since they had lost five who should have been with them.
He lowered his brows and gave Carl a probing glance, examining the lines of his clothing, trying to determine if he had anything concealed. The kid didn’t like bulky clothing. His skinny jeans had holes in them now. One at each knee, and one in the back on one calf. His flannel was snug over his shoulders and slim fitting, and Ashar couldn’t see anywhere that Carl could have something hidden.
“I get something on me?” Carl asked, holding out his arms and peering down.
“Uh, no,” Ashar mumbled, wiping his hands on his jeans and standing. “Was just realizing how tired I am, is all,” he offered as an explanation.
“Yeah, me too. Haven’t traipsed through the woods much lately, have we?” He rose and puttered around, helping Adam get zipped into his sleeping bag and then spreading out his own. “I’m just going to find a tree. Be right back.”
Still fighting his nerves, Ashar perused the area he’d set up for sleeping. Carl had chosen the space to Adam’s right but there was really no difference in the area around them. The space he’d chosen was small and surrounded by trees, offering natural protection from all sides.
Settled for the night, the others breathing evenly beside him, Ashar lay awake, the events of the last day and a half playing over and over in his head. The pines above them blocked out the sky and he felt removed from God, lost and anxious. Not a single star was visible to him.
He attempted to find words to pray, but each time he felt again the slight kick of the gun as he’d fired, saw the cold contempt in Monty’s eyes, and charred fabric molded around small bodies. He thought he could still smell death, as though it had followed them away from their camp.
Ashar was still searching for God when he fell asleep, his chest tight and his stomach sour.
The feeling that God had deserted him stayed with him as they continued on their way the next morning. One of the traps had snagged a chipmunk and they’d added the small amount of meat to the rest of the berries and nuts for breakfast before cleaning up and continuing.
Adams color was improved, but he was still in pain. He didn’t complain at all, but made several requests to stop and rest for a bit throughout the day.
Ashar’s night had been restless and full of dark dreams. He was in no mood to talk, leading the way in somber silence. Each time they stopped, he left Carl and Adam to seek out anything edible, finding small caches that he doled out to stave off the hunger.
The trail was still easy to follow, and although Ashar refused to give up his suspicion, he was convinced now that it was Mariah leaving the markers. The rock formations had a few times given a feminine impression, being shaped into things like a smiley face or a flower. Ashar could not picture Marcus shaping rocks into objects.
It seemed out of place for Mariah too, but more likely. She was so serious all the time, but perhaps he was getting a glimpse of another side of her.
Several days passed, and all of them were tired and hungry and thirsty. They hadn’t had any meat since the chipmunk and the foraging wasn’t enough to sustain them all well. They’d found a creek once but no water since, and Ashar was starting to worry that they needed to veer off course and find a water source before continuing on.
Their path was climbing in altitude, and the air was changing, becoming colder, especially at night. None of them were dressed for cooler weather and that only added to Ashar’s anxiety.
The mountains were closer, but that didn’t mean that whatever cave Marcus had chosen for them was. They could follow the range for days before joining the others.
Adam needed time to allow his body to heal, and the constant jarring his body was taking from walking wasn’t helping. His wound looked good and there were no signs that Ashar could see of an infection. His cheeks had color, but Ashar wasn’t sure if that was from the colder air or the exercise, and didn’t know if he’d be able to tell if something was really wrong.
“Ash!” Carl called from the back, and Ashar stopped and turned around. “I think I hear water!”
Tilting his head, Ashar listened, changing the angle of his body every few seconds to try and pick up whatever Carl was hearing. Finally, he heard it. A gurgle mingling with the wind.
Carefully scanning the ground around him, he searched for signs that someone had passed through recently. He knew they were on track, but it didn’t hurt to double check to see if he had missed anything.
Carl and Adam waited patiently while he checked the area. “I don’t see any signs that they veered off here,” Ashar said finally. “Let’s keep moving and I’ll check again in awhile. If it seems like we’re going in the opposite direction of the water, we’ll head off course for a bit.”
One of the first rules Irv had taught him was that it was always better to stay near a water source.
They hadn’t gone much further when they came across rocks forming the shape of an arrow pointing left. Beneath it was the word ‘water’ spelled out with small thick twigs, somewhat misshapen, but still legible.
Carl laughed. “Mariah cracks me up. Who knew she had a sense of humor, huh?”
“How do you know it’s Mariah?” Adam asked wearily.
Carl waved a hand at the message. “Well, can you see Marcus playing with rocks?”
It was odd to hear his own conclusions being voiced. Ashar scattered the rocks and twigs back onto the forest ground and headed in the direction the arrow had indicated. “Let’s hope that means we’re almost done traveling.”
“I second that!” Carl said cheerily.
“Me three,” Adam muttered with far less cheer.
The leaves were thick beneath their feet, and the ground grew rocky as the sound of water increased in volume.
When the trees broke and a river came into view, it was breathtaking and welcome. Here, the last of the leaves clung to the trees in spattered yellows and reds among the green of the pines. The bank was heavy with rocks and they had to pick their way carefully to the water.
Adam stayed behind while Ashar and Carl carried their bottles to the edge and began filling each container. Each of them had a LifeStraw, and had realized at the first water source they had found that it was easier to fill the bottles and then just insert the straw straight into the container and drink from there.
The straws had been one of the things Irv had brought back with him. Ashar had set them aside and not thought about them again until he’d been packing to leave. Each straw filtered 1,000 liters of water. The lake had been safe, but without knowing the source of creeks or rivers, they couldn’t trust the water they’d encountered along the way.
His gratefulness for simple objects increased the more they became vital. He had learned that early after making nature his home. A knife was not something you just carried around. A water bottle was not just a way to save the environment. Fishing line was not just for leisure.
Hydrated and with full bottles, Ashar searched the area for a sign from Marcus and Mariah, his lips curving when he found another arrow, this time shaped by fallen limbs.
“Adam, you good to move on?”
“Whatever gets us close to stopping for good,” Adam agreed.
They pushed on, still hungry and tired, but eager to discover if they were close to the end of their journey.
The markers followed the river and, late the next day, discouragement was starting to creep in that night was falling and they had still not come across Marcus or Mariah. Carl had grumbled about spending another night in the cold forest, his consistent cheer diminishing the further they traveled.
Ashar saw a thin stream of smoke rising above them as they rounded a curve in the mountain, barely visible. He would have missed it if he had
been looking from any other angle.
“There!” he exclaimed, pointing, grinning back at Carl and Adam, forgetting for a moment that he was ignoring Carl.
Both of them brightened immediately and Carl jogged ahead of Ashar. “Even I can follow that!” he said excitedly as he went on ahead.
Ashar had no problem falling back and allowing Carl to lead. Even Adam seemed to move faster now that they had spotted signs that shelter awaited.
He heard the shout way before he spotted Marcus’s figure standing ahead of them. Waving an arm twice in a wide arc as though he’d practiced the precise movement dozens of times, Marcus grinned and waited as they approached.
The landscape rose sharply to where Marcus stood, and Carl helped Adam over the final rise. Mariah appeared as Ashar climbed up, hands on her hips, face wreathed in welcome.
Carl hugged them both, voicing how glad he was to see both of them. Marcus and Mariah both seemed surprised by the gesture, but returned the embrace. Adam went right to a stump set in the small clearing in front of a wide hollow cave opening and sat heavily.
Ashar greeted Marcus with a handshake and set his and Adam’s packs at his feet. He tensed as he watched the two before him look past him, searching for the other expected faces.
“They aren’t coming,” he told them before they could ask.
Marcus’s eyes moved back to meet his. “What do you mean? They decided to stay behind?”
“They’re dead,” Adam said from the stump.
Silence spread. Carl’s shoulders caved, tears filled his eyes and fell. Ashar swallowed hard, his fingers wrapping around the tatters of his hem. The seam had split, and he rolled the jagged edge between his thumb and index finger.
“I… don’t understand,” Marcus finally said, his gaze swinging between the three. “We didn’t choose difficult paths. We did our best to think about the kids… oh… no. The kids?” Marcus reeled, his shoulders pulling back, eyes widening.
The reaction seemed genuine. If he’d been part of the conspiracy, maybe the children had never been meant to be victims.
Seal Two Page 13
