The Narrow Gate

by Janean Worth

  The day passed much as had the day before, except that she heard no more sounds of pursuing Enforcers. They’d probably given up, thinking that a beast had eaten her by now, and gone back to tell the Sovereign that another worthless Stray had died.

  The Sovereign would be angry, and he would punish someone, possibly another Stray or one of the Enforcers who brought the news, for Kara’s escape and supposed death. The thought of that punishment made Kara’s stomach feel sour, because her mother had told her of several such punishments, and they were gruesome indeed. The Sovereign was cruel when he handed them out too, often drawing out the pain and anguish as long as he possibly could, just to get the most enjoyment out of the suffering of the victim. And his next victim would suffer because of her actions.

  Kara pulled a couple leaves of wild mint from her bag and chewed upon them to calm her roiling stomach, and to moisten her mouth. Only several swallows of water remained in her water bladder, and she was saving those for when she could no longer bear her thirst, or for when she found a safe source of clean water, whichever came first.

  Her head had already begun to pound from dehydration, so she knew she didn’t have long to find water before the problem got serious. The small guide book, For Gatherers, How to Survive in the Wilderness if You Become Separated from Your Enforcers, written by her tutor for those who braved the world outside the gates to gather plants, had been required reading if one had wanted to pursue that profession in their adult life. Thankfully, she’d been so eager to become a Gatherer that she’d read the small book two years before it was required. Though, with all that had happened, it seemed like a decade had passed since then, when, in truth, it had only been a handful of years.

  Kara tried to recall every detail of what she’d read, mentally going over the material again and again in her mind. Even then, she could remember no instructions on how one should find water if they became separated. The book, as she remembered it, had contained only rudimentary instructions, such as how to hide until the Enforcers arrived to rescue you, the symptoms of dehydration, the symptoms of frostbite and a rather long chapter on how to build a large fire to signal your whereabouts to the Enforcers.

  The snap of a branch underfoot startled her out of her thoughts, and she stopped in midstride, startled to realize that she’d wandered into a small clearing. The area wasn’t large, but it was quite picturesque, with the towering trees overhanging an almost perfectly circular area that was carpeted in old leaf molderings and thick layers of bright green moss. The area under the trees contained almost no underbrush, but Kara noticed that where the brush surrounded the area on the perimeter of the rough circle it was bisected in several places by narrow trails that led off in several different directions into the forest.

  Cautiously, Kara changed direction and headed for the nearest trail. Hopefully, the trail had been made by the animals of the forest as they headed toward a water source, not by groups of Fidgets on their way back to wherever they called home.

  Chapter Seven

  The day had passed quickly, and Kara felt as if she’d walked many miles. She’d found no water. In desperation, she’d sipped the last of her water at midday, and now her mouth was dry with thirst. She’d found quite a few more edible leaves, and had chewed them in order to moisten her mouth. They’d helped at first, but now, as night began to fall again, her thirst was a pounding need within her head.

  Wearily, she found another tall tree to spend the night in and listlessly began to climb it. Her body ached. Her head pounded and her muscles shook with the effort that it took to haul herself up into the branches. As the last of the light bled from the sky, she used the remainder of her strength to crawl to the top third of the tree, where the branches were as nearly as thick as her waist.

  This time, she sat down in the crotch of a branch with her back to the trunk and leaned forward to wrap her arms and legs around the branch. With one arm, she adjusted the strap of her bag so that it still hung around her shoulder, but could be moved far enough up so that she could use it to rest her head upon it, instead of using the rough bark of the tree as her pillow.

  Although her thirst plagued her, and she was sure that she would get no sleep for the second night in a row, she fell into a fitful slumber almost immediately.

  A bright shaft of moonlight pierced the thick canopy of the tree some time later, and she awoke almost instantly. Not knowing how much time had passed, or whether, in her exhausted slumber, she’d allowed some new creature of the night to sneak up on her, she glanced around frantically, her arms clutching the branch reflexively in her panic.

  Finding no new threats in the branches around her, Kara looked to the ground.

  The dazzling moonlight illuminated the forest below with a brightness that was unexpected. It silvered the fallen leaves, reflecting and bounding around, providing a wealth of illumination. Below, Kara could clearly see several Fidgets on the forest floor. But, to her amazement, they were not concentrating upon her presence in the tree. Instead, their attention was directed at a small dark hole in the trunk of a giant oak tree that was just adjacent to the tree she occupied. The hole was at ground level, looking to be roughly the size of the orange-fleshed melons that had been sold in the market in GateWide. From her height, she could see nothing special about it, and wondered why the Fidgets seemed to be so fascinated with it.

  One of the Fidgets reached a clawed hand into the hole, fingers extended as if reaching for something. It immediately drew back its hand with a high pitched shriek, and Kara was surprised to see that a small animal came out of the hole too, attached to the Fidget’s hand, its teeth sunk into the flesh.

  She saw only a splash of soft looking rust-colored fur before the other Fidgets were upon the poor creature. The animal cried out a piteous cry as the Fidgets tore into it with their claws and teeth. It happened so fast that Kara had time to do nothing more than gasp at the violence of the action, but that small sound was enough to draw the attention of the Fidgets away from their bloody meal. It was too late though. The damage was done. The poor creature was dead.

  The Fidgets turned as one toward her position in the tree, and the bright moonlight clearly illuminated the blood dripping from their misshapen jowls and the ripped remains of what had once been a beautiful fox hanging from their claw-tipped fingers.

  The Fidgets jabbered at each other in that strange way that she’d heard the other nights she’d seen them, and darted toward the tree. Their movements were quick, yet oddly stunted. Their short, dwarfish legs carried them forward at a loping run that looked almost comical from her vantage point in the tree. When they reached the tree she was in, they scrabbled at the trunk of the tree frantically, awkwardly trying to climb up to where she was perched in the branches.

  Kara realized that they could see her as clearly as she could see them.

  Pity for the maimed fox pulled at her heart, and she forgot for a moment that she did not want to draw more attention to herself.

  “Go away you filthy little beasts! Just go away!” Kara shouted down at them, horrified by their blood-drenched faces and beady red eyes. “You can’t get me up here. So just leave!”

  As she stared down at them, a strange rage washed over her. They’d killed that helpless creature in moments, and all the poor thing had been trying to do was protect its burrow. Much like her mother had been killed. Violently and without regard to the life that had been taken. Ineffectual rage filled her at the thought of her mother’s unneeded suffering.

  “I said leave,” Kara screamed at the creatures as loudly as she could, her dry throat rasping on the last word. Her voice echoed through the forest for a moment, then all grew quiet.

  Kara immediately wished that she’d not shouted so loudly. Now, all of the creatures of the forest in the surrounding area knew where she was. Her rage cooled as quickly as it had begun, now replaced by cold fear in the pit of her stomach.

  She was certain that the forest was home to creatures that were far, far wo
rse than the Fidgets.

  Seconds later, Kara’s heart threatened to pound right out of her chest as she heard the approach of something large. The unseen thing crashed through the brush, disregarding stealth in favor of speed. Kara’s mouth grew even drier with fear. Surely only a large and very powerful predator would be so noisy in a forest full of such dangerous creatures like the Fidgets?

  Moments later, she got her first real glimpse of what her tutor had called a bear. The massive animal was large and shaggy; its coat was dense, a dark brown color that seemed to absorb the silver moonlight as the beast lumbered into the clearing. The Fidgets immediately began squealing in terror and jabbering at one another.

  The bear moved forward quickly, towering over the small, short-legged Fidgets. The Fidgets tried to run, but the bear had already come too close. With one swipe of a massive paw, the bear knocked a Fidget to the ground and then, in a gruesome action, bent its massive head down and bit the creature on the neck.

  Even from high up in the tree, Kara head the Fidget’s neck snap.

  The Fidget’s two companions wasted no time in trying to save it, they ran away like cowards as the bear devoured their companion, and Kara hid her face in the crook of her elbow, unable to watch the scene below her any longer.

  If she had been able, she’d have covered her ears as well, because the sound of the bear’s feast traveled up to her in the tree clearly. The sound of the bones and sinews popping as the bear crunched and ground them in its massive mouth made her stomach heave.

  Her head began to ache again and she struggled not to cry, wondering how she would ever survive in such a harsh place as the wilderness. She didn’t want to end up as a meal to the Fidgets or a bear. And she didn’t want to die of slow dehydration, either.

  After what seemed an eternity, the bear finished its meal and lumbered off into the forest in search of another.

  Kara clung to the branch the rest of the night, unable to sleep after the horrors that she’d seen.

  Chapter Eight

  When the first rays of sunshine speared through the trees, Kara gratefully climbed down from her perch in the massive tree. The climb down was not nearly as hard as the climb up had been, and she reached the bottom in short order.

  The ground at the base of the tree was littered with the remnants of both of the meals that had taken place there only hours before, and Kara carefully skirted the blood and gore, being careful not to step on any of it. Just the thought of doing so made her shudder. When she saw the bits of bright rust-colored fur, she averted her eyes and tried not to relive the horror of the creature’s death.

  As she passed by the giant oak with the hole in the trunk, she heard a soft mewling sound. Curiosity warred with caution, and she stopped and stood near the tree, indecisive. She should move on. Although the piteous mewling from inside the tree indicated a creature in need of help, she could not be sure that the creature was as harmless as it sounded.

  A second mewling cry came from the hole, and pity helped her decide. She stepped nearer to the hole and crouched down, carefully peering inside.

  A tiny orange kit lay deep inside, looking up at her trustingly from soft brown eyes. Kara’s heart squeezed with pity again. The poor creature had lost its mother last night. How would it ever survive?

  The kit climbed to its feet, tottering closer to her on unsteady paws.

  She knew how the poor thing felt. Since she’d lost her own mother, she felt completely off-balance and alone in the world. Looking at the poor animal, she immediately felt a kinship with it.

  The young fox climbed nearly out of the hole in the tree, it’s dainty black nose sniffing at her as she crouched silently before it. As it crept closer, delicate nose twitching as it caught her scent, Kara decided that she would do all that she could to help it survive.

  She let the kit creep closer, and crouched silently as it sniffed her cautiously. When it became brave enough to touch her with its damp nose, she slowly put out a hand and lightly stroked the soft fur along the animal’s flank.

  The fox twitched at the contact, but it did not back away. In fact, it came closer.

  Kara moved her hand closer to the kit’s face, and when the animal did not balk, she gently rubbed its tiny face. The fox appeared to enjoy the attention.

  In an effort to let the kit get to know her scent, Kara crouched before the tree for the next several minutes, wasting precious time that she could have been searching for water. When she felt that she could wait no longer, she careful reached out to pick the animal up, surprised when the kit did not resist or attempt to bite her.

  Kara felt a smile soften her lips for the first time in days. The fox’s slight weight felt good in her hands, its silky fur warm against her fingers, and with its trusting brown eyes gazing up at her, she felt hope that perhaps the wilderness was not a completely bad place after all.

  “There’s a good fox,” she crooned to the kit, enjoying the way the tiny animal cocked its head to look at her upon hearing the sound of her voice.

  “We’ve got to find water, and food, before nightfall. We’d best be on our way,” Kara drew the fox closer to her chest, holding the small animal securely so that she had no fear of dropping it as she trekked through the forest, and set off in a direction chosen completely at random.

  She was fairly certain that she was moving in the opposite direction of which she’d come, but she wasn’t completely sure.

  Stroking the fox’s soft fur absently, she tried to ignore the thirst that pounded in her head and dried the tissues of her throat and mouth painfully. She’d never been so thirsty in her entire life. As hard as her life had become after her father’s mysterious death, she’d never once lacked water.

  In GateWide, there were several wells that were freely available to all. The water had never been rationed, and Kara had never had to go without it. They’d always had plenty, and it had been her duty to draw the water from the well and cart it home each morning before she went to Mrs. Malmont’s house. Now, as she wandered through the forest, she wondered if it were possible to somehow dig a well herself.

  The wells that served the city had been very deep. She knew this because of the length of time it took to haul the bucket back up on its long rope once it had been filled with water. Thinking about how deep the well she’d always used must have been, Kara quickly discarded the idea of getting water by digging her own well. Without the tools to do so, there was simply no way to dig a well of her own. She’d have to find a natural aboveground source of water.

  Hours passed as she traipsed through the forest looking for water. The kit did not object to being held for so long. The tiny fox simply curled into the crook of her elbow and fell asleep. If her need for water had not been so serious, Kara would have laughed at the fox’s ability to be so at ease in her presence. As it was, the tiny fox only made her realize how badly she needed to find water. The fox, too, would need water to survive. And its tiny size meant that it would not be able to go as long without water as she, herself, had. It’s mother had probably provided milk, instead of water, but the results would be the same if the kit did not have some form of liquid to ingest. Dehydration.

  Just when she thought that she would surely die of thirst, Kara realized that just ahead of her there seemed to be a line of incredibly lush plant growth. The growth was markedly different than the plants further off, taller, hardier and much healthier looking. She’d learned in her experience with tending Mrs. Malmont’s garden plants that this most likely meant that there must be a source of water near the plants to promote such lush growth. In Mrs. Malmont’s garden, Kara had been required to make sure that the lady’s roses always received a copious amount of water, so that their foliage and blooms would always appear lush and beautiful. It had been hard to haul enough water to keep the roses thriving. Looking at the long line of lush growth ahead, Kara imagined how much water it would take create such healthy growth, and she smiled. It would take a lot of water.

  With hope
lightening her step, Kara marched ahead briskly, listening hard for any sound of moving water. She fought her way through the thick undergrowth that grew beneath the towering, well-watered trees, and to her relief, she found a river on the other side.

  The sight was so welcome that Kara felt tears of relief form in her eyes. She knelt beside the river, carefully setting the fox kit down next to her so that it could drink as well.

  With cupped hands, she quickly brought the water to her lips, and the first sip was like ambrosia upon her tongue.

  Chapter Nine

  After she and the fox had both drunk their fill, Kara filled her water skin and then sat back on the bank of the river to take in her surroundings. The fox kit gamboled around at her side, swatting playfully at several long stalks of grass that were tufted at the top with seed heads that resembled the fuzzy back of a caterpillar.

  The river itself was beautiful, and Kara quickly realized that to her, the river meant life. In the wilderness, the river would literally be the difference between life and death for both her and the fox. She wasn’t certain how far she’d travelled from GateWide, but she’d heard no further evidence of being followed by the Enforcers, nor seen any signs of them in the forest at all. Realizing this, she thought that perhaps she should find some sort of shelter near the river to rest in for a while, until she decided what she’d do with herself for the rest of her life.

  She had been told many, many times that there were no other survivors outside of GateWide, and knowing this sent a deep pang of loneliness through her. How could she possibly live her entire life alone, now that she’d fled GateWide and had no hope of being welcomed back inside?