by T. C. Edge
We reach the absolute summit, to the highest branches that will take our weight, and pray that they don’t give out as our attackers snap only metres below, salivating as they wish for the wood to crack and break, sending down their tasty treats.
The drooling, desperate wolves can go no further. Their attempts to continue their ascent fail. But they’re not done, their unnaturally smart minds seeking a solution. They begin tearing at the main trunk, ripping and biting and trying to strip the tree to its bones, fell the beast and topple us to the ground along with it.
I search around for another tree, somewhere to jump to. Nothing is close enough; only skinny, weak branches hang within reach, too risky to give the burden of our weight.
I turn to Adryan, whose eyes look out upon the wolves without the same fear as mine. It’s as if his time being tortured and held in that cell have once again blunted his emotions, turned him back into one of his own kind. He stares at the terrifying creatures without the blaring eyes that widen on my own visage, without the panic etched across his brows.
Turning to me, he wraps an arm around my body to keep me steady.
“It’ll be OK,” he assures me. “Look…it’ll be OK.”
At the word ‘look’ his eyes rise to the distance, to the red fire that now defoliates the woodland, Zander’s pulse rifle filling the forest with flames that ravage the nearby trees and bushes. And against the backdrop of the growing inferno, the shape of my brother appears, rushing back towards us and firing as he comes at the wolves snapping at our heels.
They react immediately, turning to him, seeing the carnage he’s left behind. Some charge in and go the same way as many of their brothers and sisters. Dead in the mud.
Others rush in another direction, dispersing into the trees and disappearing into the darkness.
I watch my brother with a slack jawed gape of amazement, his Dasher powers still working to phase his body from place to place, too fast for Adryan to properly see.
But not me.
My Hawk-eyes watch him, catch his movements as he deals with the last of our attackers.
In the end, the wood becomes a morgue, a battleground, soaked in blood and fire and peppered with the dead beasts that foolishly tried to fight him.
He stands at the base of the tree, his hazel eyes catching the firelight, turning in each direction to make sure that the beasts have given up the contest, bested by the better man. Then, lifting his chin, he finds Adryan and me hidden in the high foliage.
“You can come down now,” he says.
We do so, clambering down through the broken and battered branches, reaching the blood-soaked earth and the bodies that littler it. I fall into my brother’s arms to thank him.
How many times am I going to have to do that?
How many times is he going to save me and those I care about?
Adryan does the same – thanking him by way of a nod and appreciative word. Zander passes it off and merely says: “It’s not over yet. The fire will act as a beacon. We may still be being tracked. We have to continue on, right now.”
It’s not what I wanted to hear. I’m exhausted and in dire need of sleep, although the past few minutes have certainly served to awaken me a little. As soon as the adrenaline wears off, however, I know I’m going to flag.
But we have no choice.
So without delay, we continue our journey into the dark night, leaving the blood and flame behind.
21
The night is long and endless. I start to lose myself again to exhaustion, dragging my limbs on and on despite the obvious dangers we face. With my pistol now out of ammunition and useless, we only have Zander’s pulse rifle, as well as a knife that he hands to me, as protection.
“Last resort,” he says as I take possession of the blade.
The commotion with the wolves won’t have gone unnoticed. Both our human pursuers, and the other foes that lurk in the wilds, will have been drawn to the fire. Scavengers will come for the meat, catching the scent of blood. Some may pass our way as we continue on, forcing us to sneak as silently as possible.
That’s what we do.
We walk in silence, creeping low, the mist seeming to grow more stifling as the night deepens and darkens. It seems to seep into my clothes, weighing me down, desperately trying to penetrate through my garments to begin its siege of my skin and flesh.
Zander knows we can’t go on forever. He’s strong, and alert, but knows we’re not. He hasn’t been through what we have the last few days, my husband in particular. We both need rest, and we need it soon.
Yet, he doesn’t know these lands. He came through the woods via routes he’d trekked before when he set up the ambush to free me half way between the city and the REEF.
But this far to the west, and heading north, the woods might be as alien to him as they are to us, only his skills as a tracker and navigator helping us work our way in the direction of the northern outerlands where the little abandoned town, and church of the Nameless, are to be found.
Finding a place to stop isn’t easy. His eyes turn back from his lead position on a regular basis to examine us, to see how close we are to collapse.
I’m holding on, just about. Adryan, too, is stoically refusing to give in.
When we get a chance to stop for even a moment, I slip into his mind and see his pain, his thoughts so clouded by discomfort and a terrible need for sleep that he’s liable to drop to the dirt at any second.
And here, where the marshlands continue to pepper the world, such a thing could mean death. A wrong step or simple slip would find any of us sliding into a pool of acid, sucked down into the deathly bog.
Eventually, we’re far enough away for Zander to consider us safe. It’s been a while since the wolf attack, and the burning woods have long since evaporated, no longer visible, even as a faint glow above the treetops.
Moving through a firmer portion of land, we come across a small cliffside hidden among the tall trees as the ground begins to undulate. Zander rushes towards it to find a more sturdy looking cave eaten into its flank, offering cover from the elements and an opportunity to stop and rest for a couple of hours.
He tells us to wait outside while he checks the interior. Caves, as he informs us, are often the dwellings of beasts in these lands, and rarely unoccupied.
After a few nervous minutes, however, we find Zander returning and nodding us in.
“It goes further back there in the rocks,” he says. “But it’s empty.”
The cave, too, appears to be unused. There’s no sign at all that its been lived in.
My brother tells us to rest and that he’ll keep watch. Before I can offer my services as a night-guard, he waves the option away and says he’s fine and not tired, despite the weary look in his eyes.
“Get a few hours,” he orders. “I’ll keep watch. We’ll set off again at first light.”
As Zander sets himself up in a rather uncomfortable seating position against the wall – no doubt a method of making sure he doesn’t drop off –Adryan and I move a little deeper into the cave where we quickly find a suitable spot to lie down on.
Turns out, the only smooth area of ground is about the right size for the two of us.
Lying down, side by side, I feel the warmth of his breath at the back of my neck. I reach behind me and feel for his hand. I take a grip and gently pull his arm over my side, shifting his body a little towards mine.
And as his chest hugs at my back, and his arm rests around my waist, I quickly begin to drift away with a stolen smile on my face.
The respite doesn’t last.
I’d be foolish to consider that it would.
I’m woken from strange dreams by the sense that something is moving out beyond the cave, some intuition in me tearing me from my sleep and opening my eyes wide and suddenly.
It’s still dark, and for a second my eyes see only the blackness. I feel Adryan’s arm still wrapped around me, his chest rising and falling slightly hurriedly. I slip his
arm away and turn to look at him, and find his face etched in some strange contortion, a nightmare besieging his sleeping mind.
But he doesn’t command my attention for long.
On the other side of the cave, near the exit out into the woods, the sound of heavy breathing reaches my ears. I whisper for my brother and search him out as my eyes begin to work their magic, sucking in all available light to see in the dark.
“Zander…”
He doesn’t answer.
I sit up and get a better look at him. And listening closely, I find that the breathing is from him. That even he has his limits. That he’s fallen asleep while on watch, defeated by his own exhaustion.
Feeling somewhat refreshed myself, I check my watch to see that a couple of hours have passed in a flash. It’s enough for me.
I stand and move over to my brother, and find that he, too, appears to be in the throes of some nightmare, his eyelids flickering and a few indistinct mumbles drifting from his lips.
I reach out to shake him awake, seeing how awkward his sitting position looks and thinking that he’ll be more comfortable lying down, but think better of it. Instead, I merely sit against the wall beside him and say a little prayer of thanks for this moment: my brother, safe beside me; my husband the same on the rocky floor.
Sure, both are currently being mentally accosted by their own subconscious, but that’s just part and parcel of life. Given what we’ve all been through, bad dreams are likely to be a regular fixture most nights.
Nothing to worry about.
Sitting back against the wall, I let my head hit the rock and allow a sigh of relief to drift from my lips. Things are hardly perfect right now, but given how they might have been only hours ago, I’m not going to start complaining.
Adryan’s alive and safe.
Zander is too.
I’ve managed to avoid the terrible fate of reconditioning, and we’ve all somehow managed to escape the net of the REEF, outrun our chasers, and done battle with a super-pack of ravenous, mutated wolves without too much to pay for it.
I suppose, though, it’s the young man sitting to my right who’s in line for the lion’s share of the credit on that one. I say lion’s share. I mean one hundred per cent. Without my twin, we’d all be dead or worse. He’s making a habit of saving me. And I’m making one of putting myself in positions where I need to be saved.
It’s time that changed.
Somehow, I consider this to be a good start. I’ll take watch, and let him sleep, and will, in very, very small part; in miniscule part; repay some of the credit I owe him.
It’s not much, but it’s a start.
So I set about my vigil, turning my eyes to the opening of the cave and the woods beyond. Despite feeling like I’d rather snatch a few more winks, I keep my eyes wide open and refuse to turn away, even for a second, as I wait for the first signs of dawn to creep up onto the world.
In the silence, my ears prime for any strange noise in the wild. Aside from the occasional grunt that slips from Zander’s mouth, or the more steady rate of breathing emanating from Adryan’s nostrils, there’s an eerie silence outside that, rather than settling me, serves to put me on edge.
I’m no expert, but I’d expect some birdcalls, or the sound of clicking insects, or the odd rustle of leaves as a critter creeps through the shrubbery.
Nothing.
Silence.
A deep, pervading silence that has me slowly, gently, leaning forward and listening more intently.
The lull is unnerving. The ambient sounds of the forest have turned mute. And then a realisation hits.
Something’s out there.
We’re not alone.
Now I break my rule, my vow, my desire to let Zander sleep.
Without turning from the exit, I reach behind me and take a grip of his arm. I don’t need to grab him firmly or shake. He needs nothing more than a light touch to wake him quickly from his brief slumber. He’s always so primed for danger.
“What…what’s going on…” he mutters quickly, taking stock of his surroundings.
“Shhh,” I say, stilling looking to the cave’s exit. “There’s something out there.”
Zander’s straight to his feet.
His pulse rifle is firmly positioned to attack, rising to his shoulder. He stands, staring out for a few moments, listening as I am. Getting a feel for the air. Tapping into the energy around us.
And then, he whispers: “Get him up. We’re leaving.”
He doesn’t look at me as he speaks. I move straight for Adryan and kneel down to shake him awake. His slumber seems deeper. He’ll require a firmer hand to bring him out of it.
Yet, it’s not my shaking that does it. I don’t get a chance to grip his shoulder and rock him awake.
Something else does so for me.
Something far louder and more sudden springs his eyes open and has us all turning straight up at the exit.
The clanging of metal and scraping of wood. It echoes loudly into the night and has my heart screaming inside me, pumping hard as I see the front of the cave suddenly covered in a tightly woven mesh fence. The gate falls from above, scrapping along the rock and hitting the ground with a thunderous bang.
Just as it comes, two little grenade-like devices roll in through small gaps in the gate, bobbing along the rocky floor towards us.
Zander’s eyes drop.
“Get down!” he roars, hurling himself away from the nearest explosive as it trickles towards his feet.
I feel Adryan pulling me down to him, instinct taking over. His frame covers me, blocking me off from the blast.
But no blast comes. Just a loud pop, followed by an intense show of green mist that quickly spreads through the cave, filling the clear air with the same toxic poison that lingers outside.
Our gas masks are quickly reapplied, taken off when we slept in this poison-free cave. No more. Now it’s filling with the stuff, the entire place going green as we fumble about and try to stop from sucking in the poison.
I take a gulp and feel the burn down my throat. The haze in my mind is immediate, this gas more toxic, somehow synthesised and enhanced and designed to be even more lethal.
My mind swirls and fades and, lying on the floor, I hear my brother attempting to blast his way through the cage using his rifle.
I don’t know if he succeeds.
Swallowed by the fumes, my head hits rock and I feel Adryan’s weight slumping down beside me. Then, the green turns to black.
And in that final moment, I don’t know if I’ll ever wake up.
22
I do.
My brain coughs and splutters its way back to life. My eyes, still burning, open to find that I’m no longer in the cave.
No longer is the air filled with that green fog.
No longer is it dark.
The day has come, and I’m somewhere new. My eyes search the interior to see that I’m in an old house, the inside filled with tangled vines, half taken back by nature. The scent in the air suggests I’m still in the forest, in some old town or village that once stood here.
I’m not alone.
Zander is with me, chained up on another wall. And Adryan the same, all of us locked and gagged and unable to speak. Only Zander is awake. Adryan not so much, his head slumped and chin dug into his chest.
I look to my brother. We can’t speak, but we can communicate. Through the lingering haze in my head, I seek out our telepathic link.
My first concern is for Adryan.
Is he OK? What’s going on?! comes my rushing voice.
Zander nods to me, and glancing at Adryan, sets my worries aside.
He’s OK. He just hasn’t woken up yet.
I turn my eyes around the place and get a better feel for it. I can only assume that our pursuers from the REEF have tracked us down and deposited us here, some half-way house on the return journey to the facility.
I’m wrong.
Zander shakes his head.
No
, Brie, he says. These people aren’t from the REEF, and they aren’t from the city either…
A noise sounds. A creaking door. I have no time to respond to my brother before I look up and see the wooden entrance opening up and a shadow appearing in the doorway.
A shadow…
The man is large. He looks like no one I’ve ever come across. A man of the wild, dressed in a mixture of ragged clothing and pelts, fashioned from the beasts that roam the woods. Below his chin, a necklace of teeth dangle, a varying mixture of different fangs, big and small. In the centre, the largest of all swings, flanked by equally formidable teeth and claws, mementos of the monsters he’s defeated; a show of strength to all who come across him.
His face is similarly wild.
Scars litter his upper cheeks and forehead. The lower portion of his face is covered in a mat of brown hair, his beard thick and contrasting with his shaven head. Heavy eyebrows hang over his sockets, and from them come beads that stare upon us with an intensity that would shrivel many a man’s resolve.
But for all the man’s size and physical power, for all his obvious intimidations, he looks to be just a man. Not mutated or arranged in some weird manner. Not a mindless beast, a shade of humanity, eating uncooked flesh from the bone, residing in the swamps and hiding in the trees.
The rumours of the Shadows of the outerlands, perhaps, have been exaggerated. Beyond his strange garb and wild demeanour, the man before us appears to still be human.
Yet, some rumours may yet be true. Rumours of cannibalism, of terrible acts of violence against anyone who might come their way.
We haven’t been returned to the REEF, but perhaps a more grievous fate awaits us nonetheless…
My brother doesn’t look intimidated. His eyes burn and stare, perhaps in an attempt to control the beastly human stepping through the doorway and shutting out the morning light. He told me once that the Shadows run and hide whenever his hunting parties move through the woods. He’s never held any fear for them, and that doesn’t look like it’s about to change, even amid such circumstances.
