by Sage Sask
“Shouldn’t there be a bird chirping or maybe a squirrel around?” Gavin studies the tree next to him. “There’s not even an ant on this thing.”
“Let’s walk around to see what’s in the area,” Samira says.
The temperature drops suddenly. Everyone pulls out layers from their packs to warm up.
“Let’s divide up to make it faster.” Hudson heads toward a set of trees. “What’s behind here?” When he doesn’t return immediately, Evelyn follows him.
“He’s gone!” she screams.
“What do you mean, gone?” Ryan rushes to where he was and searches. “Hudson!” Ryan’s voice echoes in the silence. “He has to be here, somewhere. Let’s divide up in twos and search.” He waits for Cassia and Samira’s approval. On their nod, he orders, “Agent and reader combo.”
Samira pairs with me. Together we walk deeper into the area Hudson was.
“There aren’t footprints.” Samira crouches to survey the ground. “It’s like he wasn’t even here.”
“Hudson!” I cup my hands around my mouth. Like Ryan’s, my voice travels back to me. Others do the same. Our cries mingle with one another.
“It’s getting darker,” Gavin murmurs. The sun has nearly set. The little light left from daylight starts to dim. “We have lost hours.”
“Where’s Shane?” Samira scans the perimeter. “And Phoenix? They were right here.”
The air feels thicker in the place they were standing. As if their presence still lingers in the space.
“They were paired together,” Cassia whispers. She searches for them. “They’re not here.”
The trees seem to get denser, making it harder to see. We take turns calling out their names, but only silence answers. Cast in shadows, we are helpless in the dark. At a fork in the forest, we turn left onto a narrow trail. I step to the side to make room for Gavin and Liana, but there are whispers of air where they stood. I whip around, searching, but only space greets me.
“Gavin and Liana.” My throat clogs — I refuse to say they are gone. I retrace my steps in search of them. The others are close on my heels, but Gavin and Liana are nowhere.
“People don’t just disappear into thin air,” Samira yells, frustrated.
“Are they being taken?” Tree leaves sway in the dark as if laughing in unison at us.
“By whom?” Ryan asks. “There’s no one else here.”
“Then where are they?” Samira snaps. Like the rest of us, she struggles to keep calm. “Why aren’t they answering us?”
A small light shines in the distance, almost like a lantern. My gaze locked on it, I scream at Ryan and the others. “There’s a light! Do you see it?” Only silent air greets me. When I whip around for their answer, they are gone. “No,” I whisper, my throat hurting with the effort. “Please, no.” But it doesn’t help. I am all alone.
FIFTY
I allow a minute of absolute fear to engulf me then take a deep breath. Willing it away, I reassess as I fight to stay calm.
In the distance, the light from the lantern calls to me. A hand on my backpack and the weapons inside, I slowly head toward it. The light remains still, as if waiting for me. As I near, I make out the outline of a young girl.
“Hello?” I call out. She holds the lantern up, illuminating her face. I have never seen her before. Her clothes have tears, and her hair lies in jagged strands down her thin face. Bones protrude from her skin. She is smaller than even the kids at the orphanage. “Who are you?”
“Mia.” Her voice shakes. “I live in the village.”
The village that we walked through was empty of all human life. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m lost,” she says. “I was searching for food. I smelled some and came to search for it.” She drops her head. “I’m so hungry.”
Our tables of food, I realize. From my pack, I retrieve a handful of the rolls I had stuffed in this morning. She hesitates, then takes them and begins to eat ravenously.
“Have you seen anyone here?” I ask. “I was with some people.”
She looks around while devouring another roll. “I haven’t seen anyone.” Her mouth full, she says, “This forest isn’t safe.”
“How?”
“People get lost.” Fear exudes from her.
“Where do they go when they are lost?” I plead.
She shrugs. “No one has ever found them.”
Her words burn like scalding water. They can’t all be gone. But the finality with which she spoke tells me I am all alone.
“I was so hungry.” With the roll still fisted in her hand, she wipes away her tears. “Now I can’t find my way out.”
We reverse roles, and now she is pleading with me for an answer. I want to ignore it — tell her I can’t help her when I have no idea how to help myself. But her vulnerability tugs at something deep inside me.
“I’m going to try and search for the people I was with.” Every word is hesitant. “You can come with me if you want, so you’re not alone.”
Her excited yes makes me yearn to recant my offer. She needs to know I can’t keep her safe. That even though I stand here, I am as lost as the others.
“I’m ready.” She holds her lantern close.
I try to orient myself then lead her opposite the way I came. “This way.”
“What’s there?” she asks.
“I’m hoping for the perimeter,” I explain. “It’s where my friends and I entered the forest.” I white-light my body before holding out my hand to her. “So we don’t get lost.”
As soon as she slips her hand into mine, the lantern starts to flicker. “It’s going out,” she cries.
Thinking fast, I quickly cut some thick branches off the nearest tree. “Break off some twigs with leaves.” I toss her my knife while I tear pieces of rope. I wrap the twigs with leaves to the top of the branches, then, using my matches, light them up to create a torch. Just as the fire catches, the lantern goes out.
“Just in time.” Mia drops the lantern, and the glass shatters. She jumps back in fear at the noise. Hiccups break up her tear-filled sobs. She grips my fingers so tight I’m afraid they will break. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
“We’re going to be fine.” I tighten my hold. “I promise.”
After over a mile, I spot a break in the trees ahead. Hoping we are back at the perimeter; I quicken our pace. Once there, I bite back a groan.
“It’s the same set of trees we passed twenty minutes ago,” Mia says. The bark is deep brown with red roots.
“We’re going to find the perimeter,” I insist.
“But we’re going in circles.”
I hear her confusion and disbelief. I don’t blame her. It feels like yesterday when I was alone on the beach. Then, I was only a year or so younger than Mia.
“No matter what, don’t let go of my hand. Understand?”
I lead us through the darkened night with only the torch as a guide. Shadows dance beside us under the moon’s rays of light. Mia whimpers.
“It’s just the light playing tricks.” I try to ease her terror. “We’ll be fine.”
“How do you know where to go?” Mia pushes back a branch that nearly whips into her eyes.
“Instinct.”
Grateful Mia doesn’t ask for more details. I grip the torch in one hand, and Mia’s hand in the other. The branches hit my face, scratching and cutting my skin.
“Where did your friends go?” Mia asks after a minute.
“I don’t know.” I focus on our destination. In the distance, I am sure I see a clearing. Excited, I tug on Mia’s hand. “I think that’s it.”
We start to run when a gust of wind blows the torch out. We immediately stop for fear of falling in the dark. With one hand I find my matches. “Grab the torch while I light it.” I try to flick the match with my on
e free hand, but it refuses to light. “I need both my hands.” In response, Mia tightens her grip. “Just for a second, we let go, OK?”
I slip my hand from her reluctant one and then wiggle my fingers to get the blood circulating. I strike the match against the side of the box. When I go to light the torch, it’s lying at my feet, and Mia is gone.
“Mia?” No answer. “Mia?” I scream as I run in frantic circles. The silence from her disappearance swirls around me. I fall to my knees and drop my head. I promised her I would keep her safe.
“Alexia?” Mia’s voice is barely a whisper.
“Mia?” Desperate, I jump up and search the area. “Where are you?”
“I’m here. Can you get to me?” Her voice is small and scared. The fear from earlier has intensified.
“I’m coming.” I zigzag the area but there’s no sign of her. Around me, silhouettes of the trees sway in the moonlight. “Mia?”
“Right behind you,” Mia says, but her voice comes from the front. “I’m thirsty. Do you have any water?”
I grab my water bottle, only to find just a few drops left. “That doesn’t make sense.” The last time I drank was before we left camp that morning. I refilled my bottle afterward.
“Water, Alexia?” Mia begs.
“I don’t have any.” I swallow my rising fear. “Show me where you are. We can find more water together.”
“I’m so thirsty.” Mia starts to cry. “I can’t see you.”
“Let’s play a game.” The moon slips behind dark clouds, rendering the sky black and making it impossible to see. “Every time I say ‘Marco,’ you say ‘Polo’ five times.”
I read about the game in a book. People played it after filling up a concrete hole with water. I tried and failed to imagine a time where there was enough water to swim for fun.
“Marco.”
“Polo,” Mia whispers once.
“Five times,” I remind her.
“Polo,” she says again. “Polo, Polo, Polo, Polo.”
I follow the sound and take a step toward my left. “Marco.”
“Polo.” Mia’s voice sounds fainter than before.
“Louder,” I yell, harsher than I meant to. “As loud as you can.”
“Polo, Polo, Polo,” Mia chants just as I spot her.
She stands between two towering trees. She seems smaller than before. Her face is streaked with tears and bloodied from scratches. Her hair lies scattered around her head.
“You lied,” Mia whispers. The heartbreak in her voice rips into me. “You said you would keep me safe.”
She starts to run. I nearly catch her when we reach the edge of a cliff. Just as I reach out for her, Mia rotates and disappears into the forest. I barely stop my momentum from driving me over the cliff. Dropping my pack, I fall to the ground to break my forward motion. I roll away from the edge and lie there, trying to slow my racing heart.
“Alexia?”
Cameron stands in the distance, holding a bright lantern similar to Mia’s. “What are you doing here?” He frowns. “Where is the rest of your group?”
“Cameron?” I nearly stagger with relief. “Your group is here? Everyone…” I pause, struggling with the words. “They’re gone.” Almost hysterical, I beg, “Please, I need your help finding them. And there was this girl…” I trail off, searching, but there is no sign of Mia.
“What do you mean, everyone is gone?” He grips my arm. “Where are they?”
“I don’t know.” My head spins in circles. “One by one, everyone just disappeared.”
He runs a hand over his face. “What girl?” he asks. “You said there was a girl.”
“I found her in the forest. She smelled the food and was lost. I tried to lead her out, but…” I hear myself rambling and order myself to stop.
He squeezes my shoulder in comfort. “Let’s get to the others, and then we can make a plan to find everyone else.”
Grateful, I immediately agree. “David?”
“No one is going to care what David thinks,” he promises. “Come on, let’s go.”
Relief spreads through me. We are going to find the others. They won’t stay lost. “Your group is still together?” I confirm.
“Of course. We always stick together.”
We reach a new area of the forest. A mysterious cave looms in the distance. A bat flies out of the darkened entrance, followed by a dozen more. Hundreds settle on the roof, forming a black halo.
Cameron glances over his shoulder at me and smiles. The expression is sinister and filled with disgust. “I should tell you a secret.”
“A secret?” Every instinct screams that something is wrong.
Jackie and other members of her group exit the cave and surround me.
“Did you think you were strong enough? Did you believe you could become one of us?” Cameron laughs, bitterly. “We know who you are. You’re a traitor. A liar.”
I try to think, but my mind is numb, exhausted from the day’s events. My tongue, dehydrated, feels twice its size. They circle me, blocking my escape.
I take a step back when Zoe lunges for me with an outstretched blade. I pivot and slice her leg from beneath her. I squeeze her hand until the knife falls from her grip then snatch it up.
They make another move toward me. I thrust the knife to force them back, but Jackie rushes me. Knowing I can never beat her in a battle, I run. I trip over a branch and fall to my knees. Scrambling up, I swallow my scream when Jackie’s knife grazes my arm. Desperate, I rush to escape.
I run through the forest and over rock formations. Darkness surrounds me, robbing me of any sense of place or time. Their laughter haunts my escape, but when I listen, there are no footsteps. Refusing to be taken, I dodge branches and stumble over dirt piles as I continue to run. My lungs ache. My legs finally give in, and I collapse like a rubber doll. I break my fall against a tree. With deep gulps, I take in oxygen.
My throat aches for water. I slide my tongue over my torn lips. The trees start to spin. White and black spots dance in front of my eyes. Exhausted and dehydrated, I lean against the bark. The snap of a twig forces me upright. I listen for voices or footsteps but hear nothing.
Sensing danger, I grab my pack and drag myself through the forest. In vain, I search for the perimeter. With a rock, I mark the trees on my route. After hours, I glimpse an opening and rush toward it. Every tree has a mark. I have been here before. Tears clog my throat as I hit the tree repeatedly with my fists.
Drained, I slide down against the tree. Just a minute to gather my thoughts, I tell myself. Enough time to search for a solution.
The sound of footsteps jerks me upright. Knife in hand, I carefully take a step forward. Silently, I search for the source. In the distance, a small squirrel stares back at me. It turns back to a puddle of water and starts drinking.
“Do you need help?”
I spin around to face a woman I have never seen before. I grip the knife, ready to attack. “Who are you?”
The scar on my abdomen starts to throb. The pain intensifies until I can’t breathe. I lift my shirt to reveal my scar. Once pale pink, it is now red and angry. A black string crisscrosses over the wound, holding the broken skin together.
“Stitches?” Confused, I touch the fresh wound. “It was healed.”
The woman stares at my scar, confused. Her face shifts from recognition to shock. “Alexia?”
FIFTY-ONE
“Do I know you?” I whisper.
“Don’t you remember?” Her long blond hair flutters in the light wind. She is older, closer to Serafina’s age. “It was for your own safety.” She reaches for my hand, but I jump out of the way. “It was the only thing I knew to do.”
Memories barrel toward me but each one drifts away before I can make sense of them. Refusing to remain in the dark, I focus and pull them in.
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I am young and learning to walk. The woman holds my hand to guide me.
I am running across a field, laughing, as the woman pretends to chase me. When she catches me, she throws me into the air as I burst out laughing.
The woman watches me as I learn to fight.
“Are you…?” The memories feel like a dream from someone else’s life. My brain clouds over in a fog. “Tell me who you are.”
“I had to keep you hidden.” The woman speaks in circles. “It was the only way to get you inside the Circle.” She runs her hand through the squirrel’s puddle. “To keep them from learning who you are.” Droplets of water drip from her fingers. “To keep them from learning who I am.”
“Who are you?” I glance down into the pool of water. My reflection stares back at me. Dried blood covers the scratches on my face. My hair falls in disarray.
“The Circle was my home.” Heartbreak laces her every word. The woman drops her head. Her grief is palpable, like heavy rain that drenches me. “All I knew.” She raises her head. “I had to leave.”
“You were the one in the ocean.” The memories start to fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. “The one who saved me.”
“Yes,” she says.
“My mother?” I am desperate for it to be true but afraid to believe. I have imagined the moment so many times over the years. So many different ways I thought about it, but each one ended with me in my mother’s arms. Now, I stay in place, staring at the woman I cannot remember.
“Yes.”
Conversations from my childhood filter through the layers of my head, demanding to be heard. There are repeated whispers to keep my secrets safe, to stay strong.
“You’re here?” I stand in disbelief. “In this zone?”
“I’ve been here the whole time. Waiting for you.”
