by Avery Kloss
“That should keep us for another day,” said Kia. “I could use sleep.”
I hadn’t looked at her today yet, seeing dark circles beneath her eyes. It became imperative that we solve our sleeping issue at once. “I’ll bring what I can find.” Dropping into the water, I gritted my teeth, hating how cold it felt. “Are you ready?” I reached for a branch, the wood floating. “Here.”
Ara grabbed it, handing it to Kia. “Let’s put these over those branches.” She pointed. “Those are close together. We can lay the wood over and secure it somehow.”
“I’ll look for vines.” I waded in the cold, my feet sinking into the mud beneath. If I came across a dead body … I did not wish to think about that, and how terrifying such a thing would be. “I’ll see what I can find.”
Enough debris floated within reach, all manner of sticks and branches, even whole trees having been uprooted. I grasped whatever I could, Ara and Kia laboring to piece together a crude platform, something relatively flat and secure, using whatever I handed them to tie it all together. When the skin on my fingertips rippled, having been wet for so long, my teeth chattering uncontrollably, I pulled myself out. Bright rays of sun streamed through the branches, feeling warm against my back.
“You’ve done well, child,” said Kia. “Look at this.” She smiled, her eyes glittering with pride. “We can rest well tonight.” She held out her arms. “Come here. You’re terribly cold.” She held me, stroking my hair, which dripped with wetness. “You’ve done enough for one day.”
“I like it.” Ara leaned back on the makeshift platform, stretching her feet before her. “This will do nicely.” She yawned. “I’m going to try it now.”
Shivering, I managed a smile, gladdened by the fact that we had solved another problem. “Sleep would be nice.”
“Come, Peta. Come rest.” Kia climbed to the platform, the branches uneven, yet sturdy-looking. When I joined them, they let me lay between them, mamma holding me close to offer warmth, with a thin pelt over us.
“This is good,” said Ara. “I might sleep now.” She yawned noisily.
“Yes,” I murmured, feeling better. “If we had a fire, we might live here.” Kia laughed at that, the sound of her joy wonderful. When was the last time anyone had laughed?
“We can wait for the water to recede now. We’re safe.”
“Yes,” I whispered, shivering. “For now.”
Having the platform improved our lives dramatically, all of us sleeping most of the day and drinking from the antler spigot every so often. I stared at the canopy of leaves overhead, patches of sunlight falling upon my face. The birdcalls continued, the creatures fluttering from tree to tree.
For supper, we had the rest of the dried meat, chewing slowly on each piece, the taste savory and filling. It worried me that we would not have food tomorrow, but we continued to drink enough fluid, although it came out in drops now.
I slept fitfully that night, waking at the slightest noise, wondering if I heard the men returning. At one point, I left the platform, grasping at the branch overhead and hauling myself higher. I climbed as far as I could, the limbs weak here, gazing at the blackness of night. Curiosity propelled me to make the climb, wondering if I might see the evidence of a fire somewhere, our men having made camp on dry ground. The blackness of the sky fell heavy like a pelt, with speckles of bright light twinkling overhead, but I could see no fire.
“What are you doing?” asked Ara.
“I’m looking for anything unusual.”
“It’s dark, Peta. You can’t see anything in the dark.”
“I thought maybe there’d be a fire somewhere. Enwan and Ronan at a camp.”
“It’s all water.”
“Yes, I don’t see anything.” I bit my lip, unhappy about this, wishing I had seen something—some sign of life—somewhere. “I’m coming down.”
“Please be careful. Please don’t fall again. You might not get as lucky this time.”
“I know. I was very lucky.” I reached her a moment later, her face in shadow. Kia slept soundly, soft snores filling the air. “We were smart to make this bed.”
“You’re the smart one. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it.”
“My accident helped. Now we know how deep the water is. It’s not going to be as deep tomorrow. It’ll be less the next sunrise and after.”
“But, we don’t have food.” She grasped at her belly. “I’m hungry.”
Settling upon the branches, I stretched my legs out, happy to be able to rest without worrying about falling. “I’ll think of something.”
“You’ve Ronan’s tools. Maybe there’s a way to catch fish?” She settled in next to me, scooting close to share body heat.
“That’s a good idea.” I yawned. “I’ll look tomorrow. We can try for fish. We need to eat something.” Closing my eyes, I yearned for a thicker pelt and a warm fire, but I would not have that luxury. “Goodnight, Ara.”
“Goodnight, Peta.”
With the branches at my back, some digging into the skin worse than others, I did eventually find sleep, although I woke every so often, not being entirely comfortable. I opened my eyes before the sun came up, my mother and sister in conversation. Sitting, I moved hair out of my face, the blondish locks keeping my back and shoulders warm.
“What is it?”
They sat on the edge of the platform, facing the other way. The first faint streams of light filtered down among the leaves, the birds terribly loud now, louder than the last few days.
“We can leave now,” said Kia.
I crawled over to them, the wood digging into my knees. “Why?”
“The water’s gone. It’s a muddy mess, but it’s gone now.”
Stunned, I glanced at the ground, although it remained in shadow. I did not see any glistening waves, indicating wetness. “Where did it go?”
“It sunk into the earth,” said Ara. “We’re free to leave.”
I pondered that, feeling a mixture of relief and worry. “Where will we go?”
“To higher, dryer ground,” said Kia.
“What about the men?”
“They’ll do the same.”
The higher ground she spoke of stood at an enormous distance, nearly to the smoking mountain. “I don't know if we should leave. What if Ronan and Enwan come back to find us? They’ll want their tools.”
“Men can make more tools,” said Ara. “We should prepare to go once it’s light. We have no reason to stay.”
I desired to wait. “Can’t we delay a little longer? If we set out now, they’ll never find us.”
“They’ve all gone to dryer ground.” Kia turned to look at me. “It’s time to leave, girl. There’s nothing here. We’ll venture to higher ground and make camp. The men will already be there.”
“Are you certain about that?”
“Yes.”
I wished I could see her face clearer in the dim light to know if she spoke the truth. Doubt gnawed away at me, a feeling of uncertainty lingering. We could not stay, I knew that, but, if we left, we might never see Ronan or Enwan again. “Is it safe to wander around?”
“It’s never safe,” said Ara. “We have little choice.”
“Ronan said he’d teach me how to make a spear and use it.” Now I wished we had the time. We did not know what was to come. How could anyone have guessed such a tragedy? “We have nothing to use as a weapon.”
“We’ll tie the sharpened tools to the end of the sturdiest branches,” said Kia. She patted the platform. “We need look no further for sticks. We have them here.”
My belly grumbled. “I’m hungry.”
“The sooner we make the spears, the sooner we can leave,” said Ara, getting to her feet. “I’m tired of this tree. I long to set foot upon solid ground.” A stream of sunlight burst free from the highest branch, drifting into her face. “And warm. I yearn to be warm again.”
Chapter Eighteen
Grasping crudely implemented weapons, chunky, slightly
sharpened stones tied to the end of misshapen branches, we dropped from the tree, one by one, my feet sinking deep into mud.
“Can we walk in this?”
Ara landed next to me, the mud to her thigh. “This is terrible,” she muttered, holding a spear and a basket, which she tied to her back and neck with strips of leather. “How do we move?”
“Carefully.” Kia joined us, having the same problem, her thighs partially hidden beneath a brownish, smelly sludge. “We find higher ground.” A basket hung from her shoulders. She made a spear from the walking stick, hers looking better crafted than ours. “Come along, girls. We need to find fresh water.”
“But, you’re going in the wrong direction.”
She blinked, the sunlight in her face. “What?”
“If you go that way, it’s deeper into the forest. We have to cross the river that way.” I pointed. “The plains are that way. A great big mountain’s that way.” I had memorized the entire valley, having stared at it often enough from the top branches the last few days. “We have to cross the river.”
That idea did not appeal to her, a weary, fearful look flaring in her eyes. “Truly? Are you certain, Peta?”
I nodded, wishing it wasn’t so. “Yes.” I pointed. “That is more forest. It goes on forever. We’re near the edge. We’re close to the hunting grounds. It’s why the clan chose this place for the season.” She had to know this, or was she too tired to think clearly? “If we go that way, we’ll have to walk through a muddy bog forever. I don’t know how wide the flood was.” I glanced at the mud near my knee, noting the sticks and leaves stuck in the thickened mass. It smelled like decomposition and worse.
“We should listen to Peta.” Ara pulled her stick free, lifting a leg to walk. “The river’s this way.”
“We’ll never be able to cross it.” Mamma frowned deeply, her thick, dark brows drawn together. “This … is more difficult than I thought.”
“Let’s have a look,” I offered. “We can at least look. If it’s too broad to cross, we’ll think of something else.”
“It’s not far. Our camp was right over there.”
“All right,” Kia said glumly, her shoulders dropping. “I don’t like this at all. I didn’t think it would be so deep.”
“It’s full of water still. It’ll take days to dry out.” I began the arduous task of pulling my foot free of the heavy, sticky mud, taking a few labored steps. Not having had enough food the past few days, I felt weary already, a hint of dizziness appearing.
Kia began to walk, but I worried over her, knowing she had yet to recover fully from her illness. She trudged on behind us, her heavy breathing filling the silence of the forest, although a bird called once or twice, with the sound of water drawing near. Where our camp had been, mud now hid the cooking fires, the river even wider and higher than before. Seeing the expanse of it, the brownish water roiling with energy, waves lapping, carrying debris, I knew it would not be possible to cross.
“We might as well return to the tree,” muttered Ara. “We can’t get in that.”
Chewing on a lip, I pondered the situation. “What if we float in it? The water winds around through the forest. It’ll take us to the hunting grounds. If we go in, it might do the work for us.”
“We’ll drown, Peta.” Kia wiped her face with the back of her hand, her expression defeated. “None of us can swim for that long.”
“What if we tied thick branches together?” And then I had the solution. “We can float for a while, and when we’re free of the woods, we get out and walk. We can find dryer ground.”
Kia did not seem as sure, her lips pursed. “I don’t see any other way out. We need to leave. We need to find clean water. If we don’t have dry ground, we can’t make a fire.” She eyed a thick-looking tree branch stuck in the mud. “I don’t know if I have the strength for this.”
“It doesn’t have to be very big,” said Ara. “A few pieces of wood strung together. We can hold on and float down river.”
“Or up river,” I murmured, eyeing the brownish water, seeing what I thought might be a body drifting by, the shape long enough, the skin pale. I shivered, praying it wasn’t a member of our clan. “We have to do something. We can’t stay here.” I fully intended to be reunited with Ronan and Enwan later, knowing they would have a fire waiting and meat to eat. “It’s a good idea, Ara. I like it.”
She grinned, hope flaring in her expression. “At least we’re not in the tree any longer. I’m happy to be on my feet.”
“Indeed,” murmured Kia, but she seemed worried, her frown pronounced.
I wanted to reassure her that all was well, but we had to make the wooden raft. I hated the icy water, but we needed it to transport us quickly elsewhere. Once evening came, we would be with our clan again, safe and warm, the flood something we needn’t ever worry about again. Pulling a foot free of muck, I struggled to reach a piece of wood, my determination far greater than any physical strength I possessed, but it would have to see me through.
“Are you certain this will float?” Kia eyed the bundle of wood dubiously, her face streaked with mud.
“Yes.” Ara stared at the water, all manner of rubble continuing to float by, including corpses.
I shivered every time I spied one, hoping with all my heart that it wasn’t a member of our clan. It bothered me greatly that we had not seen or heard another living soul since the beginning of the flood. The three of us had been closer to camp, the other women and children foraging further in the woods. I glanced over my shoulder at the trees often, wishing someone would appear, but … it had not happened.
“We should go.” Ara grasped at the wood, several thick pieces tied together. “You’re the smallest, Peta. You sit with the baskets. Mamma and I will hold on.” She took a deep breath, her chest rising. “I don’t want to linger any longer. We might as well do it now.”
The churning current produced clumps of roots encrusted with sod, trees having been ripped out by the force of the flood. As we crafted the wooden barge, the river seemed to recede somewhat, although it still swallowed a good portion of what had been our camp.
“Come now,” grated Ara, her eyes flashing with anger. “I’m waiting for you. You said you wanted to do this. Get on the wood, Peta.”
Clutching the baskets, I braved the cold, hating every moment of it, but forcing myself to climb upon the raft, a knotted portion digging into my bare bottom. “I’ve got this.”
Kia waded in, the water reaching her neck quickly. She grasped a branch, her feet drifting out behind her. Ara did the same, the barge moving instantly, quickly. Caught in the current, it took us away; what had once been our camp suddenly out of sight now. I sat shivering, while holding the baskets around me, as we cut through debris, parts of trees and plants passing, along with dead, sodden animals.
“Can you feel the bottom?” I asked, hoping mamma would not let go, fearing she did not have the strength to hold on. “You should’ve sat, not me.”
“I’m fine, child,” she said, some of the distress leaving her eyes, although she glanced around warily. “We won’t have to do this for long. It’s moving fast.”
“When we clear the forest, look for a place to make landfall.” Ara kicked her feet behind her. “I’m cold.”
I felt badly for not being in the river, sitting in relative comfort just above the water. The sun warmed my shoulders, the feeling welcome, but my belly continued to grumble, hunger eating away at my insides. The river wound back and forth, the woods thinning on the other side, a vast valley emerging, although the ground remained darkened and wet.
We drifted for a while longer, until Ara spoke up. “Is this far enough?”
Disappointed by the fact that the ground looked wet here, I nodded. “I suppose.”
“Or we go further.” Kia’s lips had turned blue, her shoulders trembling.
“You’re too cold. This might be enough.” I hated to see her suffer so, the guilt feeling awful, especially since I remained dry a
nd warm. Glancing into the distance, I eyed the great mountain, the top emitting plumes of whitish smoke. “What do you think, Ara?”
“Why haven’t we seen any of our clan?”
“I don’t know. Should we try to push for the side?”
“Yes,” she said miserably, wet hair clinging to her scalp.
We had witnessed several bodies floating, their appearance a reminder of the tragedy that had occurred, the memory of which we did not need.
“Then let’s do it.” Kia kicked vigorously. “To the side now, Ara.”
“Yes, Mamma.”
I held onto the baskets, the raft edging closer to an embankment of clay and mud, reddish and brownish in color. Wavelets lapped against smooth rocks and particles of embedded twigs and branches. The edge of the raft scraped the bottom here, coming to an abrupt halt. I sprang from the wood, taking the baskets with me, the spears tied together in a bundle beneath my arm. Scrambling up the muddy ridge, I eyed the vast plain, a wet, boggy terrain revealing itself.
“It’s not good here at all. Maybe we should move on.” We would never find wood dry enough to make a fire. I licked my lips, wishing for a sip of water.
Kia untied the bundle of spears, gripping hers. Her features hardened with a look of steely resolve, while wet hair hung down her back. “We walk.”
“It’s not better.” Ara held a spear and a basket. “I’m taking the leather off the wood. We’ll need it.” She untied several strips, the raft falling apart. “They’ll dry and be useful again. We can’t leave them.”
I did the same, wringing out the leather, and then tying it to the basket, to be slung over my shoulders. “Then we walk, I suppose. What choice do we have?” I wouldn’t say how thirsty I was, knowing they felt the same.
Kia sighed tiredly, her resolve now faltering. “Maybe we should’ve stayed in the tree.”
“No!” I had to rally everyone’s sagging spirits. We had the better part of the day ahead of us to find water and shelter. “The forest isn’t the answer, Mamma. We’ll walk until it’s dry or until we find the others. I’m certain Ronan and Enwan are waiting.” I trudged onward, my feet sinking deep into muck. “Let’s go.”
