When they arrived, Juniper parked Jaden Jaunt and circled the area with eyes glued to the higher branches. Roscoe followed suit, hesitant and troubled; he couldn’t wrap his mind around the direction in which she searched.
A few minutes in, Juniper’s breathing became panicked and her pace quickened. She couldn’t locate the body.
“He was here, I swear.”
“Up in the trees?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she walked closer to the tree she was certain he’d been speared to. There was blood on the branch, blood on the trunk. Her eyes followed its trail down the side of the tree. She circled the tree and before her eyes hit the ground, she tripped over a soft lump and landed on the other side.
It was Damien; cold, lifeless, and covered in moss. Small vines and roots were stemming from the earth and taking over his body. Juniper looked toward the branch he hung from last night, which still pointed toward the sky. She looked back at his body, which had a clean hole through his stomach. There was no indication that his weight tore through the wound and caused him to fall. It didn’t make sense.
She looked at Roscoe perplexed. He returned her stare with horror. Refusing to step any closer, he talked to her from a safe distance.
“You need to explain what happened here.”
“When Ethan started breathing again after the knockout, I tried to run into the bar to call for medical help but Damien stopped me. I relayed the message to Brett and ran for my bike. Damien followed me on his. I couldn’t lose him on the roads because his bike was faster, so I headed here thinking I’d dodge him through the trails. It started pouring and I got too confident and crashed. I tried to run but he caught up. I was out of breath and couldn’t run anymore. He said I was the cause of all his troubles, all his suffering, and that he didn’t want to suffer anymore. I couldn’t see anything. The storm made the forest pitch black and he had the headlight on me like a spotlight. I was blinded, but I knew he came toward me for the kill. Then it got strange.”
Juniper broke eye contact with Roscoe and stared at the ground as she verbalized the rest of the story.
“The sound of a whip cracked through the sky, so loud it rivaled the thunder. Damien’s screams followed. I stepped out of the light, and once my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw Damien being tossed through the air, tree to tree. Each toss was accompanied by an earsplitting snap of the branches batting his body. When he finally went silent the rain stopped and the clouds separated, letting the sun cast light on what occurred. That’s when I saw Damien’s body impaled upon that branch.” She pointed at the bloody branch sixty feet above them.
Roscoe shook his head in disbelief. “One, he’d still be up there if any of that were true. Two, you’re asking me to believe that trees are responsible for this ruthless carnage. Look at his body!”
“Yes, look at it. It’s covered in earth after one night. How it is already being taken over by roots and vines and moss?”
It was a freakish sight and Roscoe had no words to justify the way the earth claimed the body. It appeared as if the trees were trying to hide the evidence.
“I don’t know. How did he get spiked to that branch? If it truly did, how did he end up down here? There are no tears in his wound.”
“I’m not sure. That part confuses me too. The branches are agile, maybe they bent and dropped him.”
“Juniper, this is insane.”
“That’s why I brought you to the scene instead of trying to explain it at your place.”
“It still doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t add up. Most of your story is impractical gibberish that I’d be too embarrassed to repeat to any authorities. I’m a ranger here, I’m responsible for reporting this. I need the truth.”
“That is the truth!”
“No, it’s not! Trees don’t kill people. If you did this, just fess up. I have no doubt it was in self-defense.”
“I didn’t kill him,” she sobbed. “I was prepared to die last night when all of this happened. It’s crazy, I know, but it’s the truth.”
“They are going to arrest you for manslaughter,” he shouted in frustration. He was losing his cool. He felt useless and unable to remedy her mess. A brief moment of agitation passed between them before he accepted that she had no alterations to her version of the truth and offered his continued loyalty, “I’ll come up with a believable story for you. Help me rip him from the ground.”
They stripped the vines off his body, wiped the moss off his skin, and pried his limbs out from under the strong hold of the newly formed roots. He propped Damien’s body up against a tree and planned to come back for it with a larger vehicle.
“Let’s go,” he said curtly.
“I need a minute. I’ll be close behind.”
“I’m not leaving you here alone, not after discovering all of this. I have no idea what the truth is and I’m not leaving you alone to warp it anymore. It’s for your own good. If you stay with me, at least I’ll know it wasn’t you if this situation manages to get any weirder.”
She didn’t appreciate his lack of trust or demeaning tone, but she kept her frustration to herself. Despite being flustered, rattled, and asked to believe in the impossible, he was still trying to protect her.
They rode the trails back to Hurricane Ridge Road and toward the office where Ranger Clark spent most of his time. All threats gone, Roscoe let her depart on her own.
She needed to grieve Ethan’s death, needed to figure out what the trees wanted from her. The only way to achieve either was by spending some quality time alone in the woods.
She called Irene before leaving. It was the first time she said it aloud. She began to weep the moment the words left her lips.
“What do you mean he’s dead?”
“Damien killed him.”
“How? Why? They were best friends, I don’t understand.”
“Damien followed me here. I told Ethan and he came out to help me deal with the situation. It escalated and Damien beat him senseless,” she explained through her sniffles. “The head trauma killed him.”
“This can’t be true.”
“I’m so sorry. I feel responsible. I should’ve dealt with it on my own.”
“Stop it. Then you’d likely be dead instead. Neither one of you should have suffered. Where is that scumbag? Locked up, I hope?”
She paused before answering.
“He’s dead too.”
“From the same fight?”
“No, he tried chasing me down to kill me too. It was a motorcycle chase through a terrible storm. The whole thing happened fast and unexpectedly. We were in the forest near my house when I crashed and blacked out. When I came to I was already recovered by the park rangers and told the news about Ethan and Damien.”
“Well, I’m glad he’s dead. He brought nothing but heartache and pain to everyone who had the misfortune of meeting him.”
“It’s all so confusing. I just miss Ethan. It shouldn’t have happened like this. I think I had a chance to help him kick his addictions. He liked it out here. He might’ve had a chance to try again in a new city.”
“Don’t let those thoughts tear you apart. I’m coming out to see you and accompany Ethan’s remains back to New York. I can’t make it out until Thursday, but I’ll tell the rest of the family.”
“Thank you. I don’t think they’d receive the news well from me.”
“They wouldn’t. They’d blame you.”
“I’ll mourn him here with you, if that’s okay. I can’t go back to the Bronx again.”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I. Love you, take care. I’ll see you early Thursday morning.”
“Okay, love you too.”
They hung up and Juniper tried to force the tears to stop. The harder she tried, the faster her sorrow fell. Caught in a full-fledged panic attack, she succumbed. She was curled on the floor in a matter of minutes, unable to catch her breath and choking on her tears. There was no longer
a single source for her pain, just an overwhelming loss of control. Everything hurt and she was submerged beneath the weight of life’s collective grief. Despite the heaviness, she got to her knees and tried to see through blurry eyes.
She had to get to the forest.
Chapter 13
Bags packed, house locked, she departed. The wind dried her tears as she drove toward the woods. She avoided the trail where Damien’s body waited to be retrieved and headed south instead. The trail leading to Moose Lake was long and unpaved, but easy to follow.
She took her time getting there, allowing the cruise to soothe her. There were people hiking along the way, not many but enough to cause her pause. It wasn’t customary to see motorbikes on the trails; they were allowed in certain spots but not all. Due to her friendship with the rangers they granted her full access to the park so long as she kept them informed of her whereabouts via radio and respected the hikers on foot. Each time she passed walkers she slowed down to minimize the trail of dust her bike kicked up and waved. Most people didn’t mind. Whenever she could she’d steer her bike off-trail to avoid their path completely, but it wasn’t always possible. Many areas of the trails bordered steep cliffs.
She veered off the main trail and headed down the steep switchbacks that would bring her to Moose Lake. When she reached her destination it was vacant of tourists. People still walked along the trails encircling it but they were far away and none strayed toward the water. The trails were difficult and it was rare for novice hikers to wander downhill. Once it got darker all hikers and distant voices would be gone and she’d truly be alone.
She assembled her pop-up tent in the lush meadow and readied herself for sunset. It was a beautiful sight from the valley where the lake sat, one of her favorites. Subalpine trees sheltered her in all directions and the colors of the sky were visible above their highest branches. This would be the perfect place to heal.
The sun began to dip toward the western horizon and the sky swirled with orange and pink light as it sank behind the mountain. The moon illuminated the night and Juniper observed the countless stars in wonder. Thousands were visible without the competition of manmade light.
Her eyes darted back and forth between the stars, drawing pictures, counting futilely, trying to locate the North Star. Though she was still, the tremendous eye-motion hypnotized. It sent her into a peaceful trance and she imagined Ethan greeting her parents among the stars. The thought stirred her memory and she recalled it was possible that their spirits lived on among the trees. She sat up, wondering if that notion had been a dream or reality.
The trees surrounding her were silhouettes in the moonlight, noiseless shadows of the night. Besides grieving the loss of Ethan and coming to terms with Damien’s death, she wanted an explanation. She needed to know the full extent of nature’s magic and what it intended for her.
She rested her head back on her blanket and hoped for a tree spirit to speak to her again. It felt crazy to her logical inclinations, but her wild imagination craved for these moments of fleeting whimsy to be true. It was hard to decipher if they were; they always occurred in moments of half-slumber or during states of high-emotion, both of which were known to cause hallucinations. Anytime she heard them during the day it was brief and hard to determine if what she heard was real or just the wind playing games with her mind. She wondered if entering a mental fog was the only way the trees could reach her.
She let the overwhelming sight of the stars take over her thoughts and lull her to sleep. When she awoke, there was no memory of voices or conversations with the trees, just a deep slumber that was sorely needed. Perhaps that was best. Maybe the trees knew it too.
It was Wednesday and she’d need to leave before nightfall for Irene’s arrival Thursday morning.
Most of her mourning for Ethan would be done with Irene at the morgue, but coming to terms with it beforehand was helpful. She did not want to have another meltdown, especially not in public. Those moments of weakness were her secret; better kept hidden so others could not see that she still suffered. Exposing these moments after she’d established such strength would return her to a place of crippling vulnerability; a state in which she did not trust others could love her.
The day was brisk but bright. She wore a sweatshirt while she soaked in the silent sun.
Halfway into a nap, the quiet was broken.
Do you believe in us now? The trees inquired.
“I always believed in you,” she answered, surprisingly unafraid that she spoke aloud to the trees without trepidation. “I just don’t understand what you want from me.”
We want you as our willing Champion.
“What does that mean?”
The end is coming, but Gaia is not ready to give up on her favorite creation. Humans have potential; there is good buried beneath the war, hate, and destruction; beneath the callous disregard for the world that provides them shelter. She wants to give mankind a second chance.
“The end?”
Earth must start afresh. You’ve been chosen to represent the forests: the trees and the flora. All foliage and vegetation.
“What would I need to do?”
You must listen. As chosen Champion, we will speak to you only. We will guide you through the ruin and lead you on to better days. You in turn lead those who choose to follow you into their renewed existence on Earth. One of appreciation, respect, and loyalty, and where the inhabitants of Earth show genuine care for nature. You will be the leader of the new land.
“Leader? Have you been observing me at all? I am a recluse; I don’t do well with other people.”
You will excel. We have no doubt. You and six others have been chosen as Champions. You will work closely with them, when the time comes, as your territories are heavily overlapped.
“There are others?”
Yes, they are in charge of different regions and functions. Right now, they aren’t your concern. You must focus on finding your Second. A mate to guarantee the continuation of the population.
“Awkward.”
We believe you’ve already found him, though he needs convincing.
“Roscoe?”
Wouldn’t he be your choice?
“Of course,” she responded with confidence, “but I don’t think I’ll ever convince him.”
You must find a way. Each Champion must have a Second. We chose the Second for all the others, but time is short and you must choose and convince your own.
“You picked who they would spend the rest of their lives with?”
It’s a meeting of worlds. We chose a Champion for each element, then a Second in a different region of the globe.
“Why so far apart?”
To keep small pieces of each unique culture crafted by mankind alive. Despite what it will feel like when the end arrives, nature does value the heart of humanity. Some Champions are tasked to unite with their Seconds now, others are waiting until after the cleanse. In the end, love is not the goal. Though we suspect these unifications will result in deep affection, it is not necessary. They are simply tasked to combine followings and govern their elements as a solitary unit.
“Does my situation screw things up for the trees?”
Not at all. In fact, we are excited to see how your element evolves due to the fact it will be rooted in love.
“Love,” she repeated in a whisper. She did love Roscoe. “I’m about to become the town crazy person.”
Do whatever it takes, time is running out. The process began years ago as we searched for our chosen few. Surely you’ve noticed the influx of tsunamis, large-scale hurricanes, teams of tornados, and earthquakes of large magnitude. These events shook the human population, but did not completely devastate. You were the last missing piece and now that we have you, we can truly begin.
“What does that mean?”
Our attacks will be greater and carry with them finality. The Champions and their followers will be the only survivors once our task is complete.
“W
hoa, hold on. What?” The purpose of her role as Champion was finally sinking in.
It will begin with floods, hurricanes, and tsunamis tearing through the South Pacific in volumes uncharted by mankind. Our Ocean Champion is prepared.
“Something like that will happen here?”
We will warn you when the time comes. In the meantime, you must convince your Second to join you and gather a following of humans you trust; humans who will obey you as you abide our lead.
“Good luck to me,” she responded sarcastically.
Whenever you feel small or fear you might fail, remember that the earth is on your side. Out of millions, Gaia chose you. Never forget that.
She supposed that was meant to make her feel better but it only added pressure to the high-demands she couldn’t fathom achieving.
We’re watching over you, Little Blossom.
Her heart seized as she felt the spirits depart. Her father was the only person who ever called her that. Her parents had returned and all doubt she had vanished.
Renewed faith in the trees and determination to make them proud threatened to burst from her seams. She had to focus and mentally restrain her thoughts so she didn’t combust beneath the wide array of emotions she suddenly felt.
She wasn’t sure how she’d manage to lead a group of modern day humans into the end and convince them to trust her as she navigated them through a new world, but her parents had faith she’d succeed and their confidence was all she needed.
Hall of Mosses Page 12
