The Dawn of Skye (The Someday Children Book 1)

by E. B. Heimdal

  “Oh no, Skye. I dreamed you were someone else. Someone who wanted to hurt us.”

  He’s had nightmares many times before, but they’ve never been as violent as they have been lately. Skye’s worried. Ecco’s fear and horrific dreams really scare her. What is it he’s so scared of?

  A nagging feeling is slowly starting to grow in Skye’s heart. She’s scared in a new and unknown way. Not scared as she would be if they were followed by a wild animal, or if they had to cross a dangerous river where the water can overpower even the strongest. No, this fear is different and hurts her heart in a place where she’s not felt real pain since back then when the world changed.

  For the rest of the night, Skye lies close to Ecco. They’ve built sleeping places and a simple roof over the bonfire that keeps away most of the rain. But the downpour soon makes a pool of water in the middle of the roof, weighing it down towards the ground, and them. The roof is made of an old horse skin they’ve carried with them since they left their old home, and time and wear have taken their toll on it. It’s worn thin, and Skye fears that it may tear at any moment, unleashing the cold pool of rainwater on them.

  She lifts her foot to the heaviest point of the pool and quickly presses her leg upwards so the water runs from the skin and down the sides. It splashes far more than she’d expected, and the water hits both her and Ecco on the parts of their bodies closest to the edge. She giggles about how clumsy she’s been in trying to solve the problem, and she looks at Ecco to see if he’s noticed anything. But he just looks silently into the night, and hasn’t even noticed that one side of his body is soaked. She puts her arms around him and holds on so he can’t move away from her. She’s cold, but can feel their bodies beginning to warm each other slowly. Ecco falls asleep again, but his sleep is clearly torn by violent dreams that make him move nervously back and forth.

  It’s impossible for Skye to go back to sleep. Her worries are flying around her head like a big mess of words that can’t form into a sentence that makes any sense. The wrath of the sky, Ecco’s nightmares and changed behavior, the feeling of unknown fear, hunger and thirst, the future, the past. It’s a night in hell, and it seems to go on forever.

  The rain has finally stopped, and the first rays of sun begin to move slowly across their small camp, generously warming everything on its way.

  Skye lies there, still waiting for Ecco to make the first signs of waking up. She finds a small twig beside the bonfire and begins to tickle Ecco on the earlobe. She’s tired from the night’s many thoughts, but she can’t help teasing him a little. The sun has miraculously changed her dark thoughts of the night with new, uplifting ideas that grow in strength as the sun rises. She laughs with the thought that Ecco will soon hit his own ear, thinking there’s a small annoying bug crawling on him. And then they can wake up together, happy and laughing like they used to.

  Ecco starts grabbing his ear. He’s still half asleep but soon wakes up and turns his face towards her.

  “I thought it was you teasing me,” he whispers while he gets up on his elbows. His smile seems overbearing, but suddenly he reaches for his chest to make sure his shirt has not opened during the night. Skye is surprised by his reaction but doesn’t think more about it.

  “How’s your body today?” she asks, worried.

  “A little sore but nothing that’ll slow me down. We have to get going quickly so we can get away from our pursuers. Maybe we can reach across The Mountain before the day is over. Let’s pack our things and head off.”

  Quickly Skye packs her few belongings. Through their many trips, she’s learned what is and isn’t important to pack. Even a small thing that doesn’t weigh anything or take up much space at first will feel like a large, heavy thing in the

  rucksack end of the day. Most of the things they need for building a comfortable sleeping place can usually be found next to the new camp and aren’t necessary to carry from place to place.

  Ecco always carries the heavier things, like the horse skin and the iron pot, but Skye finds it natural, because he’s much larger and stronger than her, even though he also has a slender build. Neither of them are very big for their age. The lack of food and the constant wandering from place to place haven’t given their bodies enough rest and resources to grow naturally larger and healthier.

  Skye finds a small hole next to their camp where some of the rain from last night has gathered into a small pool. Most of the impurities in the water have sunken to the bottom, and the water looks reasonably clear. She fills their water skins with drinking water and hurries back to Ecco. They start moving up The Mountain with the sun on their side.

  CHAPTER 2

  Puk sits in complete silence between the rushes. He hardly even breathes from the fear of being detected. Numerous bloodsuckers have ferociously found their way to his bare arms and legs, and their tiny needle-sharp trunks are penetrating his skin and greedily filling themselves with blood. He doesn’t notice them.

  His gaze is firmly directed towards the group of boys who are standing close by the place where he’s hiding. His feet are slowly sinking further and further into the mud encircling the small lake he’s hiding by. He counts three, four or maybe five. It’s a larger group than normal, and he wonders why so many have risked leaving their camp at once. Normally The Others always hunt in twos to make as little noise as possible.

  Puk wonders whether they’re hunting at all or actually out looking for a new territory for the group. Or it could be a group of boys who have left The Others – voluntarily, or by force. It sometimes happens that a smaller group chooses to leave a larger group because of fighting between the biggest boys. He recognizes a few of the boys, and they’re all big and muscular.

  Puk has no desire to have his questions answered right now. Deep inside, he hopes the group is The Outcasts looking for an area of their own. Preferably as far away from The Bright Valley as possible. He already thinks The Others are too close, so the fewer they are, the less they have to cross paths.

  The largest of the boys suddenly starts laughing, and a couple of the others join him. He can’t hear what they’re talking about, but he sees another two boys resurfacing from a hole in the ground that looks like an animal trap. They’re carrying a roundsnout covered in blood. The blood seems to be flowing from several large stab wounds on its body. He sees that the buttons on its belly are large and visible. It’s a mother with young, still nursing.

  The animals of the forest have always interested Puk, and the many past seasons have taught him how to read their movements, sounds and behavior. Even before seeing wild animals up close, he took an interest in animals.

  He loved to listen to his father telling him stories about the mysterious and wonderful creatures that once could be found all over the forests, around the villages and the fields. He also told tales of howling animals similar to the working dogs that had the most amazing and warmest fur of all. Or of the great game killers that were a much larger version of the village mouse killers.

  Back then, when he lived with his family in the village, he had not seen any of those animals in real life because the surrounding animals had been killed long ago. But now he’s seen both the howling dogs and many other animals he couldn’t have imagined even if he tried. He still hasn’t seen a deer killer, but a few weeks back after a rainfall he saw paw prints in the mud not far from the camp. He’s kept the exciting discovery to himself, since some of the other clan members are afraid of unknown animals. But not Puk. He’s not afraid of the animals. On the contrary. The forest is a magical place, and over time he’s learned to love living here.

  The first time was hard, though. He missed his mother and father so incredibly much that he often cried himself to sleep or felt an emptiness in his body that was almost impossible to live with, but somehow the animals had been a great comfort to him, and now he felt happy among them.

  In the middle of his thoughts, he
feels that his leg is going numb, and he hopes the boys will soon go away. How did he get himself into this situation in the first place? He’s much too far away from the camp, and he wasn’t paying enough attention when he was looking for edible plants by the lake. He’s afraid to move even though his leg is starting to cramp now, and he has to swallow the pain.

  Finally, the boys start to move. The sun has moved past many trees and bushes while the boys have cut the roundsnout into smaller pieces. Puk sees that they’ve tied the pieces with rope and put them over their shoulders. All the boys are carrying a load, and the largest of them is pointing in the opposite direction to where Puk is hiding. They start moving in a direction away from The Others’ camp. He feels great relief to see that they’re finally gone, and also to see that they’ve obviously torn themselves away from the rest of The Others.

  Puk waits a bit longer before sneaking away from the lake. He doesn’t want to risk any of the boys still in the area spotting him. It’s getting dark, and it’s a long way back to the camp. He has to hurry if he’s to make it home before the sun sets completely. He looks around one more time before stretching his body in full. The frail limbs slowly give in, and he readjusts his legs and his back to the sound of cracking bones.

  Puk quickly collects the few roots and leaves he’s found into his sack. The others in the camp will probably wonder why he’s bringing so little food back when he’s spent all day collecting it, but he also has a bit of a story to tell. He’s almost looking forward to entertaining the others tonight around the fire, talking about his exciting day.

  At a fast pace he starts to climb the little hill close to the lake, but then he stops. He can hear something making a noise close by. Has he overlooked a couple of boys? Fright quickly takes over his body and his pulse rises. The blood in his ears and temples is pounding deafeningly loudly and he can’t hear anything but his blood rushing. His body starts to shake and a thousand thoughts fly through his head. How will he get out of this without getting caught? Should he start running without looking back or should he head back to the lake and hope he’ll be able to hide in the reeds? He’s unable to move, but he forces himself to turn towards the sound.

  Slowly he turns his face to confront whatever it is that’s behind him. He looks, but sees nothing. The rummaging sound has stopped and Puk can’t see anything but trees and bushes. Are his nerves playing tricks on him, making up an enemy long gone? His body starts relaxing and his hearing returns. The birds twittering and the whispering of the wind fill his ears once again. He starts walking and quickly reaches the top of the small hill.

  But he doesn’t get far before the mysterious, rummaging sound is back, this time louder and closer. The sound stems from the animal trap in which the boys caught the roundsnout. Puk steps closer to the edge of the trap and looks down. There are broken branches and leaves covered in blood everywhere. Puk sees it’s been a brutal fight for life, and he knows who lost that battle.

  The trap is almost as deep as he is tall, but effortlessly he jumps down the hole and reaches the bottom. Even though the others often tease him about his small size, he’s incredibly agile and can climb all the tallest trees and swim faster than most of the others in the clan.

  He removes some of the leaves and sees three dead young covered in blood. He feels a sting to his heart and kneels down. “Poor little creatures,” he thinks while he gently picks up one of the dead young. Its small, striped body is still warm and it almost feels like it’s only sleeping. But the large stab wounds tell another story. Carefully he lays it down next to the other two and covers it with leaves again. He knows he ought to take them back with him to the others in the camp, but he can’t stand the thought of them eating the small creatures.

  Suddenly he sees that the ground next to his left foot is moving and a small head appears from a pile of branches and leaves. There’s another young and it’s still alive. He quickly digs the little animal out of the pile and lifts it up in the air. Its eyes are almost closed and its body hangs heavy. Puk thinks it looks more dead than alive, but he has to examine it closer to understand the extent of its injuries. Carefully he tugs it into his bundle and crawls out of the hole. He hurries back to the lake where there’s more light and takes the young out.

  He breaks off a few leaves from the plants growing by the lake and creates a soft bed where the little animal can lie. He very gently lifts it up and lays it sideways on the leaves. It’s not moving at all.

  “Oh no, little friend, please wake up,” he cries out. He puts his hand on the young and rocks the lifeless body back and forth hoping to get a reaction. Nothing happens, and slowly tears start flowing from the corners of his eyes.

  His legs slide down in the mud and doesn’t even notice that the damp mud is almost burying his feet. Halfway covered in mud he finds his wooden cup and fills it with water. Carefully he pours some water over the little roundsnout and washes away the worst of the mud and blood from its body. It doesn’t appear to have any stab wounds. He puts his left ear against its chest, listening for a heartbeat. A smile soon spreads on Puk’s lips. It’s alive.

  CHAPTER 3

  The campfire has almost died out. Only a few embers still glow in the ashes, but they too are slowly dying. Dagwood sits alone by the dying fire, sucking up the last of its warmth. He has an old blanket around him to protect his back from the cold sneaking up from behind.

  “Are you worried?” someone asks, and Dagwood quickly turns around. He’s been preoccupied with thinking and hadn’t heard that someone snuck up behind him. That hardly ever happens because he’s always instinctively on guard.

  “Yes, I’m worried. He’s been gone way too long and its too dark now to wander into the woods looking for him. I’m afraid something has happened to him.”

  Dagwood’s voice is dark, and if you didn’t know better you would think he was a fully-grown man and not only a large boy of only 16 years. In body and size you could easily be fooled, because standing tall Dagwood towers at least a head over the second tallest clan member.

  “Come and sit by the fire next to me, Fella. I need a bit of company and cheering up. Has everyone else gone to bed?”

  Fella sits down across from Dagwood on the other side of the campfire.

  “Yes, everyone’s asleep, except Salomon. He went to the edge of the forest looking for Puk.”

  Fella looks nervously at Dagwood, awaiting his reaction. He knows that it’s not allowed to enter the forest alone after the moon and stars have woken up, but Salomon doesn’t always follow the rules.

  “I tried to stop him, but he said it was only a quick peek.”

  Dagwood slowly lifts his head and answers: “It’s okay, Fella. Salomon knows what he’s doing even though he’s breaking the rules. They don’t apply when there’s a clan member missing.”

  “He wasn’t there.”

  Salomon silently steps out of the dark and walks towards the two others by the campfire.

  “I waited a while and looked both by the River Path and by the Rock Path. He didn’t respond to my whistling so he must be far away from the camp.”

  He sits down next to Fella and leans towards the fire. The trip to the forest has made him cold to the bone and he’s trying to get his warmth back. For a long time they sit without saying anything. Dagwood picks up some small stones from the ground and throws them into the fire, one by one, and Salomon has a piece of wood which he’s carving with his knife in long, uniform strokes.

  Suddenly Fella breaks the silence with the question that’s been on their minds all night: “What if he’s dead?”

  The next morning Dagwood gets up earlier than he normally does. He leaves the hut and looks towards the morning sun that’s still struggling to rise. The rest are still asleep and he’s sneaking out without waking them. They all sleep in the same hut. It’s the most sensible thing to do. This way they can look out for each other during the night and
stay warm in the colder months.

  Carefully he steps across the trip wires suspended around the hut that are there to warn them of uninvited guests during the night. One of the dogs lazily lifts its head and looks at him while yawning, but it quickly goes back to sleep. Dagwood shakes his head, smiling. They must be the worst watchdogs imaginable, but they’re happy and faithful and everybody loves them.

  He walks to the river to wash away the traces of sleep from his eyes. Maybe he should take a dip. It’s been a while since the last one. His shoulder-length hair needs to be washed clean of dirt and dust, and the last days of hard work still live in his body scent. He soon reaches the riverside and sits in the grass that’s still moist from the dew of the night.

  The sun slowly climbs in the sky and he feels his body hungrily embracing the warm rays. He bends his head backwards and closes his eyes. His naked feet find their way to the cold morning water, and his upper body falls back into the grass. Time stands still for a moment while he relaxes in the grass.

  A small bug moves through the tall green wilderness and soon finds its way to Dagwood’s ear. It eagerly crawls on, climbing his chin and reaching his mouth. The long legs of the bug start tickling Dagwood’s upper lip and he abruptly wakes up. He quickly gets on his elbows and waves the small animal away. His reflexes are fast as lightning, and he’s always on guard.

  During all the time he’s been alone or been the head of the clan he’s never slept heavily or for long periods. He rarely sleeps so long that his dreams start to develop. Usually it’s the start of a dream that wakes him up. His dreams aren’t pleasant dreams with happy moments and bright experiences. They’re about dark shadows crawling towards him, embracing his body and his soul as if they want to strangle him slowly in his sleep.

  He doesn’t share his dreams with the others because he doesn’t want to come across as a weak boy who’s afraid of his own thoughts. How can he be so easily frightened by a silly dream after everything he and the others went through back then, and since?