by Aaron Hubble
“Go back to camp and get a couple of women to help with Oyeb and more men for Nasia. I’ll stay here with her.”
Denar nodded and disappeared into the trees. Maltoki draped an arm around Oyeb. He had never felt so helpless in his life. He wished with every fiber of his being he was not in this forest, looking at another dead friend.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Berit pulled the blanket over the now still woman. Oyeb had cried herself into a state of exhaustion and had fallen asleep on the bed of leaves she had shared with her husband only a few hours before. Berit pushed a strand of blonde hair out of the woman’s face and tucked it behind her ear. She stood and brushed a tear from her eye. Berit understood all too well what Oyeb was going through. The loss of Winnet was still raw, and the only thing holding her together was the constant need to push forward and survive.
She blew out a long breath and watched it disappear into the cold night air. Berit wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and walked toward the little fire. She sat down on the log next to Calier and leaned in to him.
“How’s she doing?” he asked, concern in his voice.
Berit shrugged. “She’s sleeping now. Poor girl. She watched the reolar kill her husband. It happened in front of her eyes.”
“Something no one should experience.” He breathed onto his hands and then extended them toward the fire. The spring nights were still chilly and would remain so until summer broke across the land.
“Sho’el claims its first victim,” Calier said.
“Let’s pray it’s the last,” Berit responded.
Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his light jacket, Calier looked at her. “Do you mind sticking close to her for the time being? She’ll need a lot of help.”
“No. Of course I don’t mind. I had already planned on it.” Berit picked up a small stick and absently poked at the fire. “I’ll sleep by her tonight. She’ll probably wake often.”
“Thank you,” Calier said. “It’s unfortunate you two are now linked by more than a walk in the woods.”
Berit nodded and tossed her stick into the fire.
****
A lone star shone through an opening in the trees. Its light was cold and distant.
Much like her heart.
Without Nasia, Oyeb’s heart was cold and empty. It was without light and without reason to beat. Oyeb looked at the star and wished its light would wink out and never shine again. Feeling the steady thump of her heart in her chest, she wished the same. If it continued to beat, continued to push blood through her arteries, life would go on without Nasia which was something she couldn’t face.
The forest around her was oddly silent tonight. Normally, the animals of the night sang to the stars and each other in the dark. Tonight it was as if they mourned with her. Turning her head from the solitary star, she saw Berit sleeping next to her. Scattered around the small, crackling fire, people lay huddled in blanket-covered lumps, still and unaware of her pain.
Kan slumped against a tree, crossbow loosely gripped as he slept through his watch. It was hard to blame him. A person could only remain vigilant against exhaustion and hunger for so long before it dragged them into unconsciousness.
She found the solitary star once again. Dimly, she became aware of a distant noise, low and constant. Slowly she recognized it as the swift rush of water. The river ran through a steep-sided canyon here. She and Nasia had stood at its edge several days ago and remarked on its beauty and power.
Pushing off the soft blanket covering her, she continued to look at the star and let the chill air wash over her body. Goosebumps rose over her arms and legs, but she paid them no notice. Standing, she looked about the camp and saw a lone figure lying on the ground, head and body covered by a tarp. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and made her way silently across the camp, guided by the light of Zonatu. Kneeling, she uncovered the face of her beloved. She lightly caressed his cold cheek and picked a leaf from his hair. Bending her head, she brushed her lips across his and gently kissed him. Pulling the tarp back farther, she found the silver covenant bracelet on his left wrist. She removed it and looked at the handsome face of her husband. She covered him, stood, and guided by the light of that solitary star, walked out of the camp.
****
The cold had worked its way through the thin blanket Berit slept under. She pulled it up over her head, trying to find the warmth that had disappeared with the night.
It wasn’t there.
Rolling over, she looked to Oyeb’s spot, but the woman was gone. Instantly awake, Berit sat up and searched for her friend. Oyeb was nowhere to be seen and Kan, who was supposed to be on watch, was sleeping propped against a tree.
Where could she have gone?
There was no way to know which direction she had taken. The night had swallowed up Oyeb and Berit feared the worst. She could only imagine what Oyeb might do in her turmoil and grief. She needed to be found before anything happened.
Throwing off her blanket, Berit looked frantically about the edge of the camp hoping to find a clue. She grabbed a hand lamp and scanned into the forest. She almost missed the light blue lump lying in the ferns. It was Oyeb’s blanket. Berit considered waking someone, but thought it silly if the woman had just wandered into the trees to cry. Oyeb was probably not too far away.
Berit picked up the blanket and looked for Oyeb, following the beam of light. She didn’t see her anywhere. To her right she noticed the leaves on the ground were slightly disturbed, as if someone had shuffled through them, so she jogged in that direction.
Several yards away she found Oyeb’s shoes. It almost looked like she had stepped out of them and just kept walking. Fear and a sense of dread began to rise in Berit’s chest. In the distance, she heard the river and for the first time noticed she was moving toward the sound.
Berit prayed she could find her friend before it was too late.
Moving with energy fueled by fear, Berit dashed in the direction the shoes had been pointing. The sound of the river grew louder in her ears. The cold sweat of panic broke on her forehead despite the cold. Running past a discarded coat, Berit broke through a line of trees. The thundering of the river filled the night around her.
Standing on the edge of the canyon was Oyeb. Her dress lay at her feet. The glow of Zonatu cast a silver light on her naked skin. She looked down into the canyon, her toes hanging over the edge of the precipice. The Tefillia rushed forty feet below her, roiling over the rocks. Berit could see two silver bracelets dangling from Oyeb’s hand.
“Oyeb!” Berit called. “Can you come over here? It’s not safe so close to the edge of the cliff.”
The young woman turned her head toward Berit, her blonde hair loose and flowing over her shoulders. Her face was calm and serene. Almost determined.
Her eyes locked with Berit’s. “Did you know he sacrificed himself for me? He threw himself at the reolar without even caring what would happen to him.”
Berit swallowed hard. “That’s the kind of man Nasia was. He always thought of everyone else first, especially you.”
Oyeb turned her head and looked back out over the river. “Yes. That was the kind of man he was, and so much more. I can’t wait to be with him again where there is no more pain or death, where we never need to worry about being separated again.”
Her worst fears confirmed, Berit searched her mind for the words to say.
“I can’t wait for the time when I can hold Winnet’s hand in heaven.” Berit took several big steps toward Oyeb while the woman wasn’t looking. “But I know this isn’t my time to be with him. As much as it hurts, we will be separated for a while before being reunited.”
Oyeb shook her head as she looked into the water below. “You’re wrong, Berit. This is the time to be with him. We don’t need to be apart any longer. I will step off this cliff and into his arms.”
“If you do this, you will negate everything he did for you. The sacrifice he made today will have been for nothing. Don
’t do this, Oyeb.” Berit moved closer. She could reach out and touch Oyeb, but stopped herself from pulling the woman away from the cliff. Berit was afraid if Oyeb struggled, she could easily pull both of them over the edge.
Oyeb’s stoic visage broke, and the tears sliding down her cheeks captured the moonlight.
“How do I go on without him?”
“You put one foot in front of the other and let me walk beside you. Let me grieve with you, and you can grieve with me. We will be each other’s strength when there is no more strength left to go on. This is not the way to honor Nasia. You honor his memory by surviving and living through this nightmare we find ourselves in,” Berit said.
Berit watched Oyeb’s shoulders droop and start to shake. Berit unfolded the blanket she had picked up off the ground and draped it across Oyeb’s shoulders. Guiding the woman away from the edge of the drop, Berit pulled Oyeb into a tight embrace. In the light of that cold star they wept for the men they had lost and accepted the sorrow that would dominate their lives for a time.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The day they buried Nasia was easily the hardest of the journey so far.
There was no time to mourn. They buried Nasia in a shallow grave and piled rocks on his body. Kohena said a few words and then the group set off, leaving Nasia to the forest. The pall of his death hung over them like a dark cloud. The depression added on top of the starvation and exhaustion created a toxic mix Calier saw on their faces.
They had nothing left to give.
Their journey through Sho’el hadn’t been easy. The walking had always been difficult, but now it seemed the forest was purposefully working against them. When they truly needed a clear path, Sho’el threw an almost impenetrable wall of brush, vines, and trees in their way. They were required to hack and slash their way through much of the day. The older man, Onan, had nearly fainted from the effort after insisting on taking a turn with the machete. They couldn’t see the sun. The only thing that kept them going in the right direction was the compass Calier’s grandfather had given him. Without it, Calier was sure they would have walked in circles until they all eventually died off.
In the late afternoon, Ibris called a halt in a relatively open space. It was earlier than they’re usual stop, but the people had reached their limit. Many just dropped their packs and slumped to the ground unable to do any more.
Calier helped Maltoki and Ibris unload the umbaku and stake them to the ground for the evening. The animals were doing fine. There was plenty of vegetation to browse on even if it wasn’t the preferred savanna grass they were used to.
One of the umbaku rested its head on Calier’s shoulder in an appeal for attention. He started to push the intruding head away, but stopped and relented to scratching the underside of the animal’s chin. When it was satisfied, the animal lifted its head and ate leaves from a low-hanging branch.
“At least one of us will have a full belly tonight,” he said to the pack animal.
Berit and Rohab joined Calier and Ibris, wordlessly taking seats on the moss-covered ground. They listened to the creaking of the trees as the breeze gently swayed the giants back and forth in a stationary slow dance.
Ibris broke the silence. “How much further, Professor?”
Calier shrugged. “I couldn’t even hazard a guess. If the forest stays this dense, it will take much longer.”
“I gave out the last food this morning,” said Rohab. “The cupboards are officially bare.”
Resignation seemed to settle over them.
“What do we do?” asked Berit.
Calier stood. “Onan told me when we’re most in need, help will come to us. Well, I think we are there right now, desperately in need of food.”
He looked at Maltoki and Ibris. “Let’s go hunting again or fishing or something. Berit, talk to Oyeb and see if she remembers anything Nasia told her about plants we could eat. We can’t give up. Not now.”
****
Just as Calier thought they could sink no lower, the rest of the day proved him wrong. It was one disappointment after another. Denar, Kan, Maltoki, and Ibris saw no game that evening. Calier spent the day by the river looking for something to eat. He found several small mussels, securely ensconced inside their shells. He was unable to pry them off their rocks, the cement they excreted having bonded them tightly to their home against the rushing waters of the Tefillia.
Seeing darting silver shapes in the water, he sharpened a long stick with his short sword and fashioned a spear. He stood motionless in the water and thrust the spear at the fish, but came up empty every time.
The others had gone foraging. Oyeb was able to describe the kava root to them as well as several other edible plants she remembered Nasia pointing out to her in the park of Gadol City. All they found was tangled underbrush and a nice patch of thorny brush that drew blood from anyone who attempted to push through the morass.
In groups and individually, they drifted back into camp depressed, their spirits ground into the soil of the forest that was slowly killing them.
Calier collapsed onto the ground next to the fire. His clothes were wet from his foray into the river, but he no longer cared. Halom would have scolded him if she had been here. Telling him to get those clothes off before he caught cold.
An umbaku whistled in the distance. He thought about what Denar had said about eating one of the beasts. They were probably at that point now. It would devastate Emura, but their options were limited.
They were worse than limited.
He closed his eyes. A soft blanket was placed over him and he felt someone sit beside him. Cracking his eyelids, he saw the black and gold hair of Berit leaning against his shoulder.
“Is this how it ends, ab’ba? I thought it would be more violent than this. Instead we slowly wilt away like flowers with no rain.”
Calier closed his eyes again. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
He sighed through the exhaustion. “I brought you on this trip, you and Maltoki. You followed me and the crazy idea to go to the cave. And now…well, it’s not looking good.”
“It’s not your fault. I wasn’t doing anything anyway,” Berit said.
He laughed in spite of himself. It felt good.
“Who knows,” Berit continued. “Maybe those unexpected blessings will come tomorrow.”
“Maybe,” he slurred as sleep claimed him.
****
A scream pierced the night, shattering the almost oppressive silence of the forest. Calier bolted upright, his sleepy mind trying to comprehend what was going on. Berit grasped his arm in fear, her sharp nails digging into his forearm. The scream came again and was abruptly cut short in bubbling gags. Calier jumped to his feet and heard the confused voices of the others. The fire was low, but still burning. Several hand lamps flared on, illuminating the camp.
“What was that? Is anybody missing?” Ibris frantically looked at those who congregated around the fire. He quickly counted.
“Nineteen. Everyone is here.” Ibris let out a long breath.
Calier turned his hand lamp on and pointed it out into the darkness, searching through the trees, and trying to see what had caused the noise. At the farthest reaches of the beam, he caught movement.
“Everybody who has a lamp, let’s move to the other side of the fire several steps and point your lamp in that direction.” He motioned with his hand. They all did as he said. It was still hard to see, but they were able to make out two dark shapes congregated around another object lying on the ground. One of the shapes looked in the direction of the lights, its eyes reflecting the beams in a hideous red color.
A shiver ran down Calier’s spine. It didn’t matter that he’d never actually seen a night stalker; he knew in his gut he was staring into the eyes of the very creatures that had terrorized his dreams as a child.
“My god,” said Onan. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Unfortunately,” said Ibris.
“What are they eat
ing?”
Maltoki walked into the circle. “One of the umbaku. I just checked on them and found one is missing.” He held up a broken halter. “The animal thought it had found freedom and instead it became a meal.”
The group stared at the creatures surrounding the still struggling umbaku. They were roughly the size of a man. Long leathery wings were unfurled to each side of the body. Shiny talons ripped at the soft underbelly of the umbaku. One looked in the direction of the group. Calier’s lamp lit up its face. The red eyes stared back, and blood dripped from its wickedly curved beak. The thing hissed and took several steps toward the gathered group.
“Back up,” Ibris said hoarsely. “Get close to the fire.”
The stalker whistled at a higher pitch and its companion stopped its gorging and raised its head, looking in the direction of the Am’Segid. The first stalker let out several short whistles and then jumped into the air followed by the second stalker; their black forms disappearing into the night. The swish of their wings disturbed the air for a second and then the forest became silent once again.
Beams of light lanced up into the canopy as the sleepy sojourners tried to see where the animals had gone.
“Why did they leave so quickly?” Kan asked.
“Perhaps the fire scared them away,” Sulhan said.
Denar stepped into the ring of light, his crossbow held at the ready. “No, they’re still there. Right now they’re trying to pick out the weakest among us. Stalkers aren’t satisfied with one kill. They’ll hunt until every one of us is dead.”
“What do we do?” asked Amer as she hugged Emura close to her.
“We build up the fire and pray it’s enough,” Denar said.
The group began to pile the fire with any available wood, stoking the flames. They huddled around the light, eyes on the canopy and the trees above them. The forest was silent save for the crackling of the burning wood.
When the stalker came again, it was silent and struck without warning. One moment, Tehome stood next to Calier and the next moment he was gone, leaving behind a bloodcurdling scream. Calier felt the brush of leathery wings on his face and instinctively hit the ground. A rush of air passed over him within inches of his face. Light from the fire glistened off the stalker’s talons still coated in umbaku blood. Screams erupted around the campfire as people dove for cover.
