by Archer Swift
Chapter 19
Following Ruzzell back to Base Stump, I had to admit that throughout our goofy chitchat, I wasn’t sure of any overriding strategy in my mind. My only aim was to deflect the heat from Judd, and to put an end to these clan showdowns. With Ruzzell and his minions away tomorrow, the rest of us could plot and plan a way forward.
We returned to find the rest as we’d left them at Base Stump: confused and tense. Even Shawz was fidgety.
“Right, what are you all sitting around for? Everybody get to work,” Ruzzell growled out his final orders.
Everyone scurried away quickly except Judd, who sat in a daze glued to his spot at the Stump. With all and sundry having cleared out, I sidled over to check on him.
“You okay?”
Judd’s eyes were glazed over; his forehead furrowed like gnarled tree bark, with his cheeks blotched red and pink. He still had grass and grit stuck to the back of his head from his time plastered to the ground.
“Judd, erm, are you okay?”
“Get away from me.”
“Pardon?”
He lashed me with a harsh scowl. “You were supposed to back me up. Not humiliate me!”
“Sorry, what?” I felt my eyebrows arch high.
“We were supposed to stand up against him, together.”
“Geez, Judd,” I felt winded. “I’m not sure what you had in mind. I had an arrow trained on me, and you were taking a butt-whipping.”
“Yeah, then you rode in to save the day, and I just looked stupid. Again!”
“Judd, you’re taking out your anger on the wrong guy here,” I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to console him.
He shoved my hand away, and stood up in front of me. His glassy eyes were replaced by a cold, stiff glare. Judd was only a couple of centimetres taller than I was, but with his chest puffed out against his broad shoulders; for the first time, he looked imposing.
“I’m not a coward,” his eyes narrowed and his brow rumpled with indignation. He then chaffed at the tip of his nose. “And I don’t need your sympathy!”
I felt my head whip involuntarily from side to side. “Judd, I … I … don’t know what to say—”
“You’ve said too much already.” A vein pulsated beneath the skin between his eyes.
I stumbled for words. “I think you’re mad, and you’re taking it out on me. We need to stick together.”
“Yes, that was the plan,” he cut me a hard look, “but then you sneak off and have a private conversation with Lord Muck.”
“I needed to get him off you, and couldn’t do anything else with Shawz’s arrow aimed at me.”
“So, what did you and Ruzz talk about, hey?”
I realised I was trapped. If I told him what I said he’d probably accuse me of making decisions without him. Who was I to keep the rest in check? I concocted my ‘deal’ with Ruzzell as need determined. In Judd’s twisted rage, he was sure to misinterpret my motives.
“I-I just bought us some time. When he and his interns leave tomorrow, we can work out how we want to play this going—”
Judd huffed. “You sound like him now.”
“Who?”
He sneered. “Yes, Ruzzell.”
“Pardon?” I was dumbfounded.
“A little power goes a long way,” he rubbed his chin, as if he was underlining a crucial point—one that I was sure didn’t actually exist, or honestly didn’t understand.
“Judd, I don’t know what you’re implying. You’re my friend … my best friend—”
He grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, rage flashing across his eyes. “Best friends don’t lie to each other.”
“What?” I kept my hands down in surrender.
Eyeball to eyeball, his face crinkled venomously. “Gels told me … she told me about the two of you.”
“Told you what? The two of us, what?”
Huh?!
“Still lying, are we?” He pushed me backwards, and spat on the ground in blatant disgust.
I was completely bewildered. I had tried to do the right thing at every point, and now my best friend was misreading my every action.
Gellica told him what?
“Judd, please … there’s nothing between Gellica and me … I don’t know what she told you.”
“Look me in the eyes, Rist. Tell me you don’t have feelings for her.” His top lip curled in a snarl, challenging me.
I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to lie and say I didn’t, but I couldn’t do that to him. And I didn’t want to admit it, partly because I had not been truthful when he had confessed his love for her two days ago. And partly because I was trying to kill what feelings I did have!
Rainbowfly remember?
“Ha! See! You do have feelings for her,” his mouth scrunched like he’d just swallowed bile. “You lied to me. Friend? Piss off, man!” And spinning on his heels, Judd stormed off.
Ouch!
His comments stung deep.
I just stood there. Frozen. Paralysed. Numb!
I’m not sure how much time past.
“Hey, Risto,” I heard Dixan’s singsong voice. “You coming?”
I forced myself to put one foot in front of the next in Dixan’s direction, my mind whirling.
Handing me his bow and quiver full of arrows, he gushed: “Thank you, bro; I thought we were all Hog paste there for a minute. What did you say to Ruzz?” Obviously, he was oblivious to my scuffle with Judd.
“Never mind. Come,” I said, straight into work mode, “let’s go check our traps first. If a Hog has fallen into one of them, we won’t have to hunt.”
“Really? But I want to hunt, yesterday was so much fun, bro—except for you know what.”
“Let’s go check the traps.” My voice flat; I felt slapped over, scolded.
Did I really do something wrong?
“But they hardly ever work. When last did a Hog fall into one?” His eyes pleaded with me. “I think those dumb critters have worked them out. Oh, yeah; what was it? Like several moons ago we caught that old fella,” he cackled at the memory. “He was so blind and deaf and lame, even Jordi could’ve speared him with a Raptor feather!”
Dixan rambled on and on. I forced a smile to amuse him, and to keep from having to talk. He seemed to have morphed into a blabber-jaw overnight, with a sudden chronic case of verbal diarrhoea. It just went to show. If you made someone feel safe, out popped who they really were … the good and the annoying.
It took us nearly an hour to check the first two traps. We knew it was unlikely that there’d be any creatures to face-off against on the somewhat well-worn paths to the traps, but we moved with an extra dose of caution and care … knowing that at any minute, we could end up on another beast’s lunch table. Of course, the moment we were some twenty strides outside our camp, even the blabber-jaw had to zip it. Yesterday’s near encounter with serpent-death had curbed our recent gung-ho over eagerness.
Both traps were undisturbed. We were about twenty-odd minutes away from the last trap, and I was tempted to leave it, and move on to the hunt.
“Come on, Risto…”—Dixan gave a flat whistle, a mark of his frustration—“…you know there’s nothing down that hole … let’s just go a-hunting already! We had such a blast yesterday.” Even despite our brush with the Serpent, we really did have a rollicking time.
“It’s not that far, let’s just do this properly,” I said stubbornly.
“Ugh, bro. I’m so pumped. We can check it out tomorrow.”
One decision. A choice—keep going south to check one more trap that was in all likelihood undisturbed … actually, just about guaranteed empty … or head west to hunt, and bag a quick Hog or two.
How different would things pan out if I just give into Dix’s request and go west to hunt?
One decision. Our choices create our future. Why I mulishly refused Dixan’s request, I did not know.
“Dixan, we’re going to trap three. It’s a short journey, and then we can hunt for as long as you want to. And
you can shoot; I’ll keep watch.”
His eyes narrowed as he pouted his lips. “Okay, bro,” he conceded reluctantly. “If you insist.”
