by KM Fortune
The lighter was tarnished and certainly too dry to light, the fluid having evaporated years ago. Still, she fumbled the top back on the lighter and then tried to spin the little wheel inside. It would not budge. She couldn’t even get the metal to turn against the flint enough to create a spark. With a sob of disappointment, she dropped the lighter to the floor. Covering her face with her hands, she let despair roll over her. She was so miserable. Another series of shivers grabbed her and she clenched her teeth together, afraid that during the uncontrollable chattering she would bite off her tongue. When the shakes finally subsided, Raven sank tiredly back into a ball on the floor. It was all too much. She was hungry and scared, tired and cold. Only sleep seemed to relieve her from her misery, even though her conscience told her one of these times she would go to sleep to escape and not wake up. “Just for a little while,” she reasoned. “To get warm again.” She went to sleep.
CHAPTER 7
THE SNOW HELPED. IF Kit held a ball of it in her damaged hand, the skin went numb and the stinging subsided. There was still pain, but at least it was no longer the kind which stirred up crazy thoughts in her mind. Kit could remember her journey to the mountains, but parts of it were more like dreams. It was so hard to stay focused while battling a fever. Kit knew she was truly sick when she nearly stepped on a potential dinner. If she had been healthy, and in her right mind, she would have spotted the crouching rabbit from twenty feet away. It’s a shame I didn’t, she thought now feeling her stomach grumble. Fresh meat over a small campfire would have been nice. Instead she chewed on rations she carried of berries and dried meat. It was not much, but Kit required little. She generally only brought enough to sustain her for a week. Most of her scouts yielded fresh meat or wild plants to eat along the way so even if the trips took longer, she was fine. More often than not, Kit would return to the clan with more food than she left with. A fact which always made for a happy reunion.
Kit’s face showed the hint of a smile as she thought of home and her people. The look was surprisingly sweet on her narrow features. Kit was not pretty. She had a small face dominated by large, dark eyes which were always sharp and alert. It would be easy to dismiss her and underestimate her wisdom. Many a foe, in fact, had been left holding his entrails after a quick slash from Kit’s straight razor. Her cunning and speed were unexpectedly deadly. Her weapons, like herself, were simple, but effective.
The fire popped and Kit looked at it, not liking the noise. The mountains contained primarily evergreen and the pine wood was notorious for its popping. Very little smoke rose from the short flames though and that was good. Kit was feeling better now with her hand on ice and her body temperature was down, but she was in no mood for a fight. Even in her foggy state, she had chosen her way into the mountains carefully and she was not overly concerned anyone would find her. Still, she could live without the noisy crackling of the fire.
The mutants did not venture into the mountains. There was little up in the snow and forest worth stealing or looting anymore. The Patrols who came from the Great Mountain Cave did hunt in the woods in these parts and occasionally went on expeditions, but otherwise she knew they spent little time outside. Kit spent time here though. She was familiar with the trails in the mountains almost as well as those on the high plains. She was especially aware of the ones the Patrols would take when going to or coming home from the plains. If she kept away from the main trails which led to the entrance to the cave, she would be safe.
Kit settled back beside the warm fire and held the snow, letting it melt between her damaged fingers. The dried rations filled their stomach just enough and the freshwater from the snowmelt had quieted her thirst. Perhaps I will boil more water and add some pine needles for tea, she thought, remembering the pleasant taste only very fresh ones could make. In a minute, she thought, closing her eyes, but before she could get up to gather any, she fell asleep.
RAVEN SLEPT AS WELL, less than a mile away from Kit’s tiny camp. Unlike Kit, Raven was not content. Instead she shivered in her sleep, unable to get warm, even with all the blankets wrapped around her. She dreamed off and on about being back in the laboratory with Matthew and complaining to him it was too cold in her room and she needed more clothes. Matthew would nod and seem to understand, but then only come back with cans of old beans for her to eat. Raven was hungry, even if the food did look gray and unappetizing, and she would always reach out to take the bowl of beans from him. When she got the bowl though, it was empty and when she would look back to Matthew for an explanation, he had turned into a mummified corpse. Raven would scream and try to get away, but she was always shackled to the bed in the cabin. None of it made sense.
Exhausted, even in her dreams, Raven let herself sink deeper into sleep until she was almost in a coma-like state. If anyone came across her on the floor of the cabin, they would have mistaken her for dead. She barely breathed as her body tried to protect itself from the freezing temperatures. While she slept so deeply, she had different dreams, ones which recalled places and times of her childhood. She dreamt of sitting beside her father and watching him handle a Zippo lighter. It was like the one she found in the dead man’s pocket, except this one was shiny and new. She giggled as her father flipped the lighter around in his hand, weaving the silvery square between his fingers, having it disappear only to have it reappear from behind Raven’s ear. Then he would snap his fingers and the Zippo would open and light in his hand, all in an instant. It was magic and Raven, the little girl, would laugh. She loved playing games with her father. He was so clever and would always be teasing her with his magic. “How do you do it?” she would ask and he would smile and tell her, letting her in on his secrets. He would describe very carefully, and very slowly, how the lighter worked or how he could make a coin disappear and then reappear. Raven would smile and think she understood, but then her father would do another trick and she would giggle with surprise and delight at the magic once again.
In her dream, he held the lighter for her to see. Raven looked at it and now it was the old one, the one she found on the corpse. It made her shiver to see her father’s hand holding it. She looked at him uncertainly, but he smiled warmly back at her. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said giving her a hug. “There is nothing to be afraid of. You need to stay strong in your faith and know the universe will protect you. “But this lighter,” he said palming the Zippo so she couldn’t see it anymore. “It won’t do you any good. You need to make fire with something else. Do you understand?” Raven, still the little girl, nodded. Her father smiled again. “Good, now I need you to concentrate. I need you to remember when you used to come with me to work. When you were bored, I used to give you something to play with. Do you know what it was?”
Raven thought about it. She went with her father to his office many times. He was always working at the big computers so she had to amuse herself quietly at his desk while he ran tests at the machines. One time she was looking through the desk drawers and found a magnifying glass. It was small, round and with a black handle. She used it to examine things on the desktop and then all around the room. Her father liked that she was so inquisitive and gave her things like a coin or a stamp to look at under the glass. When it was time to go home, Raven asked to take the magnifying glass with her, but her father said no and told her to leave it for the next time so she would have something to look forward to. Raven had looked forward to it and played with the small magnifying glass every time she went to work with her father. She smiled as she remembered. “The magnifying glass!” she said.
Her father laughed and Raven loved the sound of it. She missed it so much it made her heart ache in her dream. “Excellent! I knew you would think of it, but do you remember how you took it out with us at lunch to the courtyard one time? To look at bugs?” Raven nodded. It was fun to make the leaves and bugs and everything look huge under the glass until she did something which made her cry. As she was looking at a ladybug, the sun hit the magnifying glass just right and a hot spot form
ed, burning the ladybug as Raven watched. She had screamed and dropped the glass when she saw the little bug’s red back turn black and burst into a tiny flame from the intense heat at the focal point. Her father picked her up and hugged her when he realized what had happened. Then, as he always did, he explained what she had done by accident.
“But we don’t ever hurt things on purpose, right?” he finished, once Raven was calmed down and understanding the sunlight directed through the magnifying glass was hot enough to burn. Raven wiped away her tears over the death of the ladybug and nodded. Her father picked up the magnifying glass from the ground where Raven had dropped it. He held it in his hand and looked hard at her. “Do you know why I wanted you to remember this?” he asked. Raven the little girl shook her head. “I need you to remember magnified light is hot enough to burn, as long as there is a little sun as a blessing from Mother Nature.” Raven nodded and then, no longer a little girl, realized she was awake and in the cold cabin. Disappointed to be back in reality, Raven opened her eyes. For the first time since she escaped from the mountain, a rare beam of bright sunlight shined into the cabin through the hole in the roof. Something glittered from the corner of the room and Raven turned her head to look. It was the reading glasses on the face of the mummified corpse.
CHAPTER 8
WHERE COULD SHE HAVE gone? Samuel wondered, pacing angrily in the empty squad room off of the colony’s primary reentry chamber. It had been a week and the Patrols had not found the female. It was impossible for Samuel to understand. He knew she had no cold weather gear, no weapons, and no help on the outside. The mountains were a harsh and unfriendly landscape. Even the Patrols and Research Expeditions succumbed to frostbite and hypothermia occasionally while working in the mountains around the colony of Eden. One weak female alone in the elements cannot possibly survive.
Gabriel, the chief of the Patrol units, walked into the room. He still wore his gray uniform and his heavy, cold weather boots, but he had removed his thick parka and gloves. Samuel pounced on him. “Have they found her? Did you get a report?” he asked.
Gabriel poured himself a cup of hot coffee and relaxed in a chair before addressing Samuel. The two men did not get along normally and the “witch hunt” Samuel had sent all the Patrols on did not help their relationship. “No,” Gabriel answered. “Not a sign of her.”
Samuel slapped his hand down on the table in the center of the room. “That is not acceptable!” he shouted. “One female. Helplessly wandering around in the snow and all your men combined can’t find her?”
GABRIEL SHRUGGED AND sipped his coffee. “Maybe a bear ate her,” he said, partially in jest, but partially serious as well. It was strange not a single man found even a sign of her. Initially, Gabriel thought it would be a quick mission. Even though the scientist who helped her escape did not reveal which exit he used, there were only a half dozen options. Most of them improbable. He sent out a group of four of his best men and they searched the immediate area of the two main exits, but turned up nothing. Not even a footprint. Realizing the female must have left through an emergency exit tunnel after all, he planned to search those the next morning. Luck was not on his side. A slow and steady falling of snow covered any possible tracks the female would have left behind. This translated to his having to split up his men into two-man teams and start searching everywhere. Because she was a female and a stranger to the terrain, he directed his men to begin their searches in easy places nearby the emergency exits to the colony. The trails revealed nothing. The reports puzzled Gabriel. In his mind, there should have been scuff marks somewhere or piece of torn clothing left behind on a branch, but there was not.
After two days of finding nothing on the mountain, Gabriel agreed to send the teams down into the high desert plains to look, which was more dangerous. Mutants and nomads could easily cause trouble for a two-man patrol no matter how heavily armed he had them. Gabriel was not happy about the situation.
To be honest, Gabriel had not taken the whole thing too seriously. A female had escaped from one of the labs. Not a usual occurrence, but not a big surprise either. The lab boys knew their cells and formulas, but they were not genetically designed to be soldiers. Escaping from one of them would not take too much effort. Even when the rumor started passing around his squads a few days ago the female had escaped by putting a witch spell on the scientist, Gabriel was not impressed. Soldiers were prone to superstition and talk got started over the most insignificant things. In the end, he knew they would find this female curled up in a little ball alongside one of the easier trails, probably frozen to death.
Yet it had not been the case. No one could find this woman. To the point even Gabriel, who would not admit it to anyone not even The Creator himself, was beginning to worry. It was almost as if the “witch” had turned herself invisible. It was as if the woods and the mountains were enchanted to shelter her from the searchers. Gabriel drank the last of his coffee and set down the mug. “There are still a couple long range patrols out. I sent them into the lower plains, along the Old Road. I can’t imagine the witch getting that far, but maybe.”
“The witch?” Samuel glared at Gabriel.
Gabriel grimaced at his slip of the tongue and regretfully nodded. “That’s what the boys have started calling her.”
“A witch,” Samuel said as he looked at Gabriel, who fiddled with his pant leg, avoiding eye contact. “With special witch powers, I assume?”
Gabriel shrugged. “Something like that. It does have the Patrols a little spooked.” He looked up at Samuel. “I mean, she pretty much vanished off the face of this mountain, Samuel. The boys don’t know how else to explain it. You said it yourself. She is helpless. No weapons, no gear, no food. I’m not saying I believe the talk, but the men are having a run with it.”
“So, you don’t believe she’s a witch?”
Gabriel shook his head. “Of course not. She has to have frozen to death by now and is probably just covered by a layer of snow. We’re looking for a body now, but it will take some time to find it,” Gabriel said.
SAMUEL STARED AT THE Patrol chief for another moment and he could see the man was lying. He doesn’t 100% believe the woman is buried somewhere dead, he thought. It was unsettling. This was the colony’s best soldier, genetically bred for combat, and he was afraid of the idea of a witch roaming free on the mountain. Samuel could relate, because until the Patrols brought back the escaped woman’s body, Samuel was scared of the idea too.
CHAPTER 9
RAVEN SAT HUNCHED OVER her small fire in the stewpot and fought to stay awake. The new warmth seemed to melt her. The air smelled with a hint of smoke, but it was not extreme. For a fleeting moment she had worried the smoke would be too visible drifting up through the hole in the cabin’s roof. The need for a fire overrode caution in the end. It was get warm now or die. The scent filled her head with sweet memories of campfires and evenings around the hearth, but the exact places and times of when those moments happened were lost in the fog of her mind. Sleep beckoned, promising her more dreams of a life she could barely remember, but she fought it, waiting for some snow to melt and become warmed in the tin can she set over the fire on the grate from the small kitchen stove. A cup of hot water, something which would warm her inside, was worth the wait and the struggle to stay awake. The heat from the fire felt so good.
The fire had started almost too easily. Raven pried the reading glasses off the corpse taking a bit of dried flesh with them. It had made her grimace, but the idea she might be able to use the lenses to magnify sunlight and start a flame was more than enough to outweigh the displeasure of touching the dead. After her strange dreams, it came to her why a person might lie down fully clothed and with glasses on. To read. She remembered doing exactly the same many times. She looked around the bed remains and found an old, dusty copy of a Stephen King novel. Raven remembered reading it once upon a time and found it strangely appropriate. The old, yellowed pages turned out to be perfect for getting her fire started.
With the rescued glasses in hand, Raven had turned the lens in the incoming ray of sunlight and moved them backward and forward until a pinpoint of light hit a small pile of book pages and sticks from an old nest. Nothing happened for a moment and then a black spot appeared, followed by a curl of smoke, and then a flicker as the paper started to burn. The flames took to the dry nest quickly and seemed hungry to eat the old floorboards too. Quickly, Raven grabbed the edge of a burning page and stuck it into the readied stewpot. She laid more pages in on top of the flame until the fire began to take. The handfuls of rodent nests burned quickly and she realized she would soon need some actual wood.
Another memory came to Raven, of cutting down trees for firewood. Picking up the pieces as her father split the chunks of log and her putting them in neat piles beside the old woodshed. There were others helping too, but she could not quite see them in her mind. Were they my brothers? My sisters? she wondered. Raven longed to recall them. Frustrated, she shook her head and focused on the moment. She doubted there would be firewood stacked anywhere nearby, but she knew she could use fallen branches and twigs. If they aren’t all buried under a foot of snow. Regardless, anything she could use would be outside the cabin and therefore impossible for her to get to immediately. The blocked look of the windows led Raven to believe the cabin was buried in a drift. She was pretty sure she was walking downhill when she fell through the roof. It was likely the snow from the slope above had simply slide down and covered the cabin one day. Well after the man in the bed had passed away and the looters had come. Eventually she knew she would have to dig a way out and search for wood and food, but it was not feasible at the moment.
