Escape
Page 3
She dropped the stick as she scrambled backward out of the water and sat panting on shore. It was alive. She was such an idiot to get so close. It lay half-in and half-out of the water, its head angled in an uncomfortable looking position. Was it in pain? She shook her head. What did that matter? She needed to go and this thing was not her problem. She stood and started to walk away. She sighed. If it was a bird or squirrel, even a mouse or rat, she’d help it without thinking twice. It wasn’t the creature’s fault that it was hairless and nasty looking and stinky.
She turned around and trudged over to it. If it were going to attack her it would have done it by now. She studied it closely. Two of the four slits on its side were moving a little. It was more of a slight tremble than an actual movement. The other two were stuck firmly together. As the side slits shivered, the creature’s bottom jaw moved forward and back. It was like the face Adam, her baby brother, had made once when he’d swallowed too much bread. That was it! The creature was choking. She quickly filled her bottle from the river. A fish couldn’t breathe air. She dumped the water over its head and chest.
The fish-man made a slight coughing sound. She jerked upright but forced herself to stay put. It still was not moving. She wasn’t in any danger. She filled up her jug again and poured it on the creature. It made another gasping sound.
She had to get it back into the water. She wrinkled her nose and placed both hands on its torso and shoved, trying to push it into the river without going any deeper into the water herself. It was cold to the touch and heavy. She tried again but it didn’t budge. Maybe, she could give it enough water so that it could get a deep breath and move itself. She filled up her bottle again, emptying the contents over the gills. She continued this for several minutes, but the creature remained still. This obviously wasn’t working.
The creature raised its arm, hitting her thigh. She flew out of the water, screeching. She shivered as she stood on the shore wiping at her leg to remove the memory of its clammy touch. Then its arm flapped again landing on its neck. Her face heated in embarrassment. It hadn’t been reaching for her. She straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath and tromped back into the river. No matter what, she was going to help this thing.
The hand that had landed on its neck moved in a grasping fashion. She bit her lip and cautiously lifted the flipper between the tips of her fingers and moved it out of the way. There were two slashes on the creature’s neck. They looked like the ones on its side except these were clogged full of...something. She grimaced as she dug her finger into a slit, pulling out mud and gunk. The foul stench of rotten vegetation and feces seeped out from the slime. She flung it into the water. She turned her head to the side, took a deep breath and held it. She dug into the second slit. When it was cleared a sharp intake of raspy breath came from the fish-man and then another.
She frowned. It was breathing air, but that didn’t make sense. Fish breathed underwater. She dumped water on the two slits that she’d cleared. The creature choked and gasped. It rolled away from her and clambered onto its knees. It seemed larger and more dangerous now that it was mobile. She scurried back to the safety of the shore. The fish-man took several deep breaths and then slowly dragged itself back into the water, disappearing under the waves.
She stared at the surface, her heart racing. There was no sign of it. The river flowed without a ripple of disturbance aside from the motion of the water itself. The fish-man was gone. She smiled and began to walk again, her step a little lighter. She had saved its life. She glanced warily back at the water. She and Travis used to play in the river. She wouldn’t be doing that again. If there was one of those things in there, there were more.
There was a slight rustle in the brush to her left. She jumped, turning to face the forest when a splash from the river drew her gaze. A flipper dipped under the water. Her shoulders sagged. Great. Now, I’m being hunted by land and sea. She moved a little away from the river but not too close to the forest. It was the best that she could do.
She continued on for another hour without a sound from the river or forest, which was encouraging. It was getting late. She was going to have to find somewhere to camp for the night. She shaded her eyes from the setting sun and groaned. She was an idiot. She’d been heading west. She should have been heading east. She must have gotten turned around in the thick underbrush. She started back the way she’d come. All this time had been wasted. An entire day was gone.
A mournful howling broke the silence of the forest. A shiver danced down her spine, raising the hair on her back. A cacophony of screeches and chirps echoed from the brush. Then there was silence, not a chirp or rustle to be heard. She swallowed around a lump in her throat. Whatever made that sound was close.
There was no movement or eyes shining back at her from the brush. She hurried along. A sharp yell pierced the air. She stumbled to a halt, tipping her head to better catch the sound. There was another shout. Guards on scent. Had the Almightys discovered her escape? No, that was impossible. It was probably just some Guards out hunting, but that didn’t solve her problem. If she were caught, she would be in deep trouble.
She had to get out of there, but which way? To her left was the river. She swallowed. She hadn’t seen the fish-man for a while, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t lurking nearby. To her right were the woods. If something were following her, it was hiding in there. She glanced back and forth, undecided. The Guards might scare away the forest predator. She bolted into the trees. There was no way she was going to outrun them, so she had to hide.
She ran blindly away from the sound of the Guards, her backpack slamming against her spine with each stride. If they catch my scent, they will find me. She skidded to a stop. The forest had ended. A rock wall loomed in front of her, stretching to both sides as far as she could see. Little crevices and divots peppered the wall, but it was too steep to climb. She had to make a choice. The wrong one would cost her freedom, maybe her life.
The trees rustled behind her. Too late. They found me. This had all been for nothing. Now, the best she could hope for was to be taken with the others. Her chest tightened. She had to make sure that her mom and Remy weren’t punished because she escaped. She raised her hands to her shoulders and slowly turned. Her breath caught in her throat. A Tracker, the deadliest of predators, stood on its back two legs, towering above her, front legs hanging down like arms. Brindle fur covered its body and its eyes glowed yellow in the shadowed forest. Its tongue lolled out the side of its mouth, exposing a row of sharp teeth on the other side. Someone should tell it that they no longer exist in the wild.
CHAPTER 2
TRINITY STOOD FROZEN IN PLACE, the Tracker towering over her. It was at least ten foot tall, standing on its back legs. Her breath came in short gasps, hands trembling at her sides. She should have picked up another stick. It wouldn’t have been much but it would have been something. The Guards hollered in the distance, closer now. A minute ago they were her enemy; now, they were her only chance to survive. One of the Tracker’s ears tipped back toward the sound, but its yellow eyes never left her.
All of a sudden, her lungs expanded and she opened her mouth to scream. The Tracker flew forward. Its large paw capturing her around the throat, stopping all sound as the long claws scraped her neck. It spun her around, yanking her back flush against its furry front.
“Shhhh,” it whispered in her ear.
It loosened its grip and she gasped for air. The Tracker flung her over its shoulder as it raced parallel to the rock wall. After several moments it stopped and flipped her as if she weighed less than a twig. She ended up resting on its back with her face near its neck. The creature shifted under her, dropping to all fours and crouching, muscles tensed.
“Hold on,” it ordered as it leapt upward, climbing the rock wall.
Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around its neck to keep from falling. It had retracted its claws and used its fingers to find small imperfections in the stone. If she let go, she’d fall to her death.
If she held on, she’d be eaten alive when they reached their destination. The ground dropped farther and farther away. Her stomach flipped. She tightened her grip on the creature and squeezed her eyes shut. She’d worry about being dinner later. Right now, she’d concentrate on not falling.
They stopped moving. The Tracker, once again, stood on its back legs. She kept her arms tight around the creature, refusing to open her eyes or move. It couldn’t kill her if she were attached to its back, right? It was a stupid plan but for the moment it was the only one she had. It rolled its shoulders, trying to dislodge her. She readjusted her grip. The Tracker yanked her off its back. She cringed, keeping her eyes shut. This was it, the end. Maybe, she should have dropped to the ground. It might have been less painful than being torn apart.
Nothing happened. No pain. No teeth and claws ripping into her flesh. She slowly opened her eyes. She was on a ledge, far above the ground. She inhaled and swayed. The creature grabbed her arm, steadying her. She’d never been this high up before; it was frightening and beautiful. The forest laid out below like a painting in one of her books. The Tracker nudged her toward some boulders behind them and then shoved her between the rocks. She wiggled backwards. The farther she could get from the Tracker the better.
It turned its back on her and squatted, focusing on the ground below. Three Guards scrambled around searching the woods. According to her dad, Guards varied quite a bit in appearance. If they hunted for the Almightys then they were long and rangy. If they guarded the Almightys then they were solidly built. These were definitely hunting Guards although one was quite muscular. That one raised his head and sniffed the air, exposing his clean shaven face. She stifled a gasp. All Guards wore facial hair, except Benedictine’s Lead Guard. “The hairless Guard,” she whispered.
The Tracker stood, its large, muscular back blocking her view. She swallowed around a lump in her throat. She should have kept quiet. The Tracker motioned for her to come forward. She shook her head. Maybe, it couldn’t reach her between the rocks. She eased back a little more. The creature narrowed its eyes and in a flash pulled her from her hiding spot. She opened her mouth to beg for her life when the Tracker spun around so that its back was to her front and then leaned against her, smashing her into the boulder. It arched its spine, rubbing along her length. What is it doing, tenderizing me? She struggled to get away but there was no room to move. The musty, pine and herb odor of the Tracker transferred to her clothes with each rub. She turned her face, wrinkling her nose. It wasn’t an unpleasant odor, but it was weird having this thing ooze scent onto her.
The Tracker turned around so that they were facing each other again and pushed her back between the boulders. “Cover you smell. Smell like me. Little bit.”
She nodded slightly, trying to be pleasant. Was it protecting her, or did it not want to fight three Guards for its dinner?
It squatted and resumed staring at the forest. An owl hooted and another answered, signaling safety.
“The Guards are gone,” she whispered, not sure if she was relieved or scared. Now, it was just her and the Tracker.
“No. They wait. Quiet like us. I kill them but Gaar-Mine said Mirra no kill Guards.” It glanced back at her, lips pulled back in a grin. “Unless Guards try hurt Mirra. Then Mirra kill.” The Tracker fell silent, its muscular rib cage expanding with each quiet breath.
She’d never been this close to a Tracker. It was a magnificent creature, all sinewy-muscle with brindled fur and a long, puffy tail. It was female and smaller than the ones she’d seen in the camp that she and Travis had stumbled across while exploring. At first the Trackers had sat motionless, staring at them through the brush, focused and silent, willing them to move within the reach of their chains and then the Guards had brought in a Handler and the Trackers had forgotten about them. All their hatred directed toward the Handler. The one creature that legend told could control the Trackers.
The Tracker stood and faced her, yellow eyes glowing in the night. “I go. You wait for Mirra.” The Tracker pointed a claw at her own chest.
Once it was gone, could she climb down by herself? She glanced over the ledge. It was almost a straight drop down the steep wall. There was no escape, not if she wanted to live. She looked back at Mirra’s fuzzy face and nodded. If the Tracker wanted her to wait, wait she would.
Trinity huddled between the rocks on the ledge as the shadows in the forest stretched and merged together in darkness. The sleek coldness of the stone seeped past her clothes and into her skin, keeping her awake as the minutes ticked by agonizingly slow. An owl hooted. She shivered and wrapped her arms tighter around her body.
This was a disaster. She should’ve never left home. She could have spent her last few weeks with her parents. Instead, she was the captive of a Tracker. Why had she thought that she could find the camp? Because I’m an idiot. A lonely, pathetic idiot. She’d been so determined to come back and prove to all of them, especially Randy that she belonged.
A screech, loud and piercing, shattered the slumbering silence of the night. She scanned the area for movement and tried to push farther back in the rocks. It was quiet now. Whatever had cried out was gone, probably dead. At first light, she’d figure out how to get off this ledge.
There was a slight sound. She tipped her head forward, straining to hear. It was coming from the rocks on the side of the wall and it was getting louder. Something moved in the dark, climbing steadily upward toward her. Her heart picked up its pace. Was it the Tracker or something else? Squinting, she tried to make out the shape. Somehow, she managed to squeeze even farther back into the crevice, trying to make herself as small as possible. Her breath came in short pants. She had to calm down. She tried to steady her breathing but her heart ignored her, continuing to pound loudly.
Yellow eyes gleamed up from the rock, straight at her. Sharp, white teeth flashed in the night. Predator’s teeth. She tried to swallow but her throat was dry. It knew she was there but could it reach her in the rocks?
“Little One, it me. Mirra,” whispered the Tracker.
She exhaled, her body melting against the stone as if someone had removed her bones. The Tracker hadn’t hurt her. Yet. That one word slammed into her head, vanquishing her relief.
“I hear you heart beating. You learn control fear or fear control you.” Mirra pulled herself onto the ledge. She brushed off the dust from her climb. “Found Gaar-Mine. We go. Come.” She held out her hand.
She hesitated, not wanting to move from the safety of the rocks, but the Tracker could force her. No reason to make the creature angry. She placed her hand in Mirra’s furry paw. Mirra yanked and she flew forward, slamming into the Tracker, who stumbled backward, one foot dropping off the ledge. She threw her weight back, pulling Mirra with her. Her spine smashed against the cold stone as the Tracker’s heavy body flattened her.
Mirra’s breath came in shallow gasps. “Long fall. You save Mirra.”
She swallowed. If she’d let go, she’d be free of the Tracker. Of course, she’d still be stuck on the ledge.
Mirra stepped back and turned around. “Climb on. We go now.”
She placed her hands on the Tracker’s shoulders, scrunching her fingers into the soft fur. Mirra reached behind and boosted her up. She tightened her legs around the Tracker’s waist as Mirra walked to the edge of the rock and turned around. She hung suspended over nothing, clinging to the Tracker’s back. She refused to look down. She stared forward, focusing on the rocks ahead. Her life was in Mirra’s hands now. Who was she kidding? It had been since their first encounter. Mirra bent and dropped her feet over the side, starting the slow descent back to the forest floor. She buried her face in warm fur and prayed to Araldo.
It seemed like only a few moments when the Tracker pushed back and landed on the ground. She sighed. At least she was off the wall. She started to climb off the Tracker’s back when Mirra grasped her legs, long claws softly scratching her thighs.
“Stay. Long trip. Faster like this.”
The speed of their travel took her breath away. It was too fast. There was no way that Mirra could dodge the obstacles at this pace. They headed straight into the heavy brush. She buried her face in the Tracker’s neck, sure they were going to crash, but as the moments sped by and nothing happened she lifted her head. They were flying through the forest, the Tracker leaping over small clumps of bushes and shifting slightly to avoid the larger ones. Trees whizzed by, their branches scraping over them, although she seldom felt their sting, safe on Mirra’s back.
The terrain changed and they slowed. It was muddy and Mirra could not move as quickly. She relaxed a bit. The speed had been fun, but she was glad to be going at a slower pace. Suddenly, the Tracker sprang upward, extending her claws and grasping onto a tree branch. Her stomach dropped to her toes and she couldn’t hold back a small squeak. The Tracker launched itself into the air and once again she buried her face in Mirra’s neck. The Tracker’s muscles flexed and stretched under her hands, ribs expanding and contracting with each mighty breath. What was Mirra doing? They seemed to be airborne most of the time. She couldn’t help it. She had to see. She raised her head. They were soaring through the trees far above the ground. Mirra leapt from tree to tree, limb to limb, the branches groaning their protest at the sudden weight only to bounce in relief as they sprang forward to their next location. When there wasn’t a branch to latch onto, the Tracker would land on the tree trunk digging her claws into the bark like it was sand. Her heart pounded hard and fast, but she refused to shut her eyes or bury her face, unwilling to miss a single moment.
As they continued their journey, she rested her face against Mirra’s back, inhaling the now familiar musky smell. It was a more pleasant odor than she’d initially thought. Mirra began traveling on the ground again and the scenery blurred as her eyes started to droop.