Escaping the Rainbow - Complete (Escaping the Rainbow Short Stories)

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Escaping the Rainbow - Complete (Escaping the Rainbow Short Stories) Page 2

by Leslie E Heath


  Desperation filled Owens gut and he cleared his throat.

  "Please sir we won't cause you any trouble. Don't make us stay out there alone at night, please?" Owen flushed, embarrassed at the panic in his voice.

  "How old are you?"

  "I'm 11, but they're both 12." Owen’s face burned even hotter.

  "What are you boys doing out in this forest so close to dark?"

  "Well... I... I mean we... " Owen began.

  "We escaped from the rainbow," Martin said. "Please sir, we have nowhere else to go. If you won’t let us stay here, the forest will capture us again."

  "We won't be no trouble," Neil cut in.

  "Well now how is that? You've already ruined a week’s worth of food." As he spoke, a hooded figure stepped out of the shadows.

  Owen gawked. The man was taller than his father, who was quite tall, and a tangled graying beard covered the bottom half of his face. His greasy hair hung his shoulders, pale against the dark cloak.

  "Daniel!" Martin cried. "You're alive! We thought you were dead."

  "Not quite yet." Daniel strolled over and dusted off some of the jerky. He wiped one chunk off in his robe and popped it in his mouth.

  "So," Owen began, "can we stay here? Just for tonight?"

  Daniel grinned. "I think I should like the company. Come further away from the opening. You’ll scare off the wolves and racoons attracted to the meat."

  The grizzled old man let them down a steep path further into the cave, where a small fire burned. A bow and quiver of arrows leaned against the wall.

  "It gets mighty lonely here. Now, have a seat, and tell me all about how you got away."

  Martin relayed their story, while Owen and Neil watched, listened, and chewed on the jerky Daniel had given them. While he talked, Owen looked around the cave. Directly above the small fire, a small hole in the ceiling vented the smoke and admitted the waning daylight.

  "How did you get away," Owen asked Daniel. "There's no way you would’ve fit through the rabbit hole."

  Daniel chuckled. "No, I guess you're right. I swam out in the stream after a big storm. The water was deep enough then that I was able to get out. I've been waiting here for a chance to go back and save the others and helping the ones that escape get to safety."

  "But how will we get the others out?" Martin explained. "It seems like whatever that thing is, it’s always watching."

  "I haven't quite got a plan together yet," Daniel admitted. "But you may have just given me the answer."

  Owen didn’t understand what answers they had given him, but he was too exhausted to try to figure it out.

  His head ached and throbbed, so he leaned back against the cool stone wall and closed his eyes, listening to the gentle rhythms of Daniel’s conversation without really hearing what they said.

  Owen awoke to something hard poking him in the arm.

  "Time to wake up. We got to get an early start if we’re going to get you out of this forest today," Daniel whispered.

  Owen groaned. Sleeping on the hard ground made his body hurt. He stood and stretched as best he could within the narrow confines of the cave.

  Daniel shoved some jerky into his hand and Owen scarfed it down.

  "We'll get you boys home today," Daniel repeated.

  The fog of sleep lifted somewhat with the food, and Owen shook his head. "Shouldn't we stay here and help you free the others?"

  Daniel chuckled. "No, I think I can probably work better alone. Besides, I'm sure your families are looking for you."

  "But how will you defeat that thing by yourself?" Martin exclaimed.

  "Defeat it?" Daniel knelt and extinguished the last of the fire. "No, we can't defeat it. It's bigger than any of us. The best I can do is help those who escape get freedom and get as many out as I can."

  Sadness showed in Daniel's features, and Neil thought he saw tears in the old man's eyes.

  "But what about you? Why don't you go back to your family?" Owen asked as gently as he could.

  "I don't have a family anymore," Daniel whispered. "The forest has taken them all. Now, now I help others get free. I’m not alone, though. There are a few others throughout the forest. We work together to help as many people as we can."

  The resignation and sadness in the old man's voice took Owen’s breath away. He couldn't bring himself to ask anymore questions, so he ran his fingers through his long hair, finished his jerky, and put his shoes back on.

  The barest hint of dawn touched the horizon when the four left the cave and ventured out into the woods. They crawled on hands and knees keeping close to the bushes and away from the large trees.

  Rocks and sticks dug into Owen's palms scratching and cutting at the tender skin. His pants protected his knees a little more, but before long, the fabric tore. Blood flowed from his legs and hands, but he didn’t have time to stop and tend the wounds. The group crawled as quickly as they could through the growing light of morning, toward some destination that only Daniel understood.

  They had crawled for hours, or so it seemed to Owen, when they finally stopped in front of another cave. Daniel made a noise like a bird, and led them down into the cave.

  "We'll wait here until evening," Daniel said, handing out more jerky and some berries and nuts here gathered during their trip. "Chester will help us while we're here. This is his place."

  A tall, skinny man stepped into the cave from a side cavern as if called. He smiled at the boys and turned to talk quietly to Daniel.

  Owen took the jerky and nuts and scarfed them down. As he brought the last bit of jerky to his mouth, he caught sight of his bloodied, filthy hands.

  Mom would never let me eat like this, not without washing my hands, Owen thought.

  The memory of his mother brought on a powerful wave of homesickness, and Owen wondered if he would ever make it home. How was his mother fairing without his help? Who was helping her get out of her chair and take care of the girls? The worries went around in his mind, and choking tears sprang to his eyes. He swallowed against them, and leaned his aching head back against the wall. He rested there while the men talked, their low voices moving him to sleep.

  "Let's go," Neil said, poking Owen in the ribs. "They said we don't have much time."

  Owen rubbed his eyes and stood. The two men stood at the opening to the cave, and Daniel motioned for the boys to join them there.

  "We’re going to make a break for it," Daniel whispered. "But you have to be silent; you cannot make a sound."

  Owen, Neil, and Martin nodded. Owen winced when he dropped to his aching hands and knees but followed Daniel out into the woods. Neil and Martin stayed close beside him, and Chester brought up the rear.

  Something had changed in the forest, but Owen couldn't put his finger on what. The strangeness raised the little hairs on the back of his neck and made him afraid to even breathe. He didn't even notice the new cuts and scrapes to his hands and his knees as he followed behind Daniel along the narrow path.

  Somewhere nearby, an animal roared. Owen had never heard anything like it before, and the sound froze him in terror.

  "Keep moving," Daniel whispered.

  Owen forced himself forward, though he wanted nothing more than to curl up under a bush and hide. They rounded a bend in the trail they were following. There, standing in the middle of a narrow clearing, was the largest dog Owen had ever seen. It wasn't really a dog though, because this creature had an extra head. It stood as tall as two men atop one another, and its fur was as black as the night.

  Owen's heart slammed against his ribs, and he couldn't make himself move forward any more. That seemed to be all right though, because Daniel had stopped to. They stayed there, still as statues, until the animal lifted its head, sniffed at the wind, and took off into the forest. When it disappeared, they continued at double their previous pace.

  They didn't stop until they reached yet another cave. The sun hovered around the horizon as the small group ducked into the mouth of the cave and stoo
d up straight.

  As soon as he thought they were safe, Owen explained, "what was that thing?"

  "I'm not entirely sure, though I have my suspicions," Chester said in a grim voice.

  "We think the forest uses that thing to catch people who try to escape," Daniel added. "I suspect it has something to do with the rainbow prison."

  Owen didn't understand, but he didn't want to know any more either. He sat near the small fire at the back of the cave and wiped his bloodied hands on his tattered pants.

  Disappointment and despair warred within his chest. Owen had believed Daniel when he’d promised to get them home that day. Even though he understood, or thought he did, the knowledge that he would spend another night away from his mother weighted him down like a lead blanket. He didn't want another piece of jerky; he didn't want any more nuts; he didn't want another roasted rabbit. He wanted his mother, his home, and his bed.

  DREAMS OF HOME HAUNTED Owen through the night, and he woke at dawn feeling as tired as when he’d laid down. Daniel tended to the wounds on Owen’s hands and legs, handed him a hunk jerky and some nuts, and gave him a wet cloth to wipe off his face. When he’d finished, Daniel moved on and helped Neil, while Chester cleaned Martin’s cuts and scrapes.

  They set out with the sunrise, crawling through the thinning forest with Daniel leading the way and Chester in the rear, the same as the day before. They moved quickly, keeping to the shadows cast by the underbrush. Twice, they crossed streams, and the men let them stop to drink and wash their hands.

  Owen dunked his head under the flowing water, reveling in the coolness on his overheated skin. Daniel didn’t allow time for more, though, before he ushered the Owen and the others out of the water and back into the protection of the underbrush.

  Somewhere behind them, the dog-creature howled, and Owen’s breath caught in his throat.

  “Run for it!” Chester shouted.

  Owen glanced back at Chester, who had taken shelter behind a large boulder and pulled his bow from his back.

  “Go!” He yelled, meeting Owen’s eyes.

  Neil and Martin took off through the thinning forest and Owen rushed to catch up. The three sprinted toward a brightening that Owen hoped marked the edge of the trees.

  The whistling of arrows filled the air, mingling with the soft thwack as they hit their marks. The dog-creature howled, pain and fury mingling in it’s unnatural voice.

  “Chester! Look out!” Daniel’s voice echoed in the strange silence that followed the animal’s cries, but Owen didn’t turn to look back. He pushed his legs faster, running with all his might toward home and freedom.

  He rounded a bend, following close behind Neil and Martin, and the road loomed before him. Only a few hundred yards of forest separated him from safety.

  Every breath burned in his chest, but he pushed himself faster, his vision focused on that stretch of blacktop.

  With safety within reach, his foot snagged a root, and he sprawled face-first in the dirt. His breath rushed out with a pained grunt, and he worked to get his feet back underneath himself. He couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t he get his breath?

  “Owen!” Neil ran back into the forest and grabbed Owen by the arms. “Let’s go! You have to run!”

  Gasping for air, Owen stumbled the last few steps to the road. He stopped there, his hands braced on his knees, and fought to catch his breath. Sharp pain shot through his chest with every inhalation, but he kept his eyes down and waited for his heartbeat to slow.

  When he could breathe without struggling for air, he raised his eyes to the mortal battle taking place within the treeline. Chester had wounds in his left shoulder and leg, and leaned heavily on Daniel as they backed out of the forest. Daniel shot a continuous barrage of arrows at the creature, faster than Owen would have believed possible.

  Arrows protruded from the dog-thing’s face, chest, and legs, and black blood streamed from dozens of wounds. It staggered and stumbled but kept up it’s pursuit until Daniel’s feet landed on the paved road. The animal screamed, pacing within the forest’s confines, which Owen realized it couldn’t leave.

  Owen eyed Chester’s bleeding shoulder and wondered how much blood the man had lost.

  “How far is it to town?” Neil’s words echoed Owen’s thoughts.

  “It’s not far – just around that bend,” Daniel ground out, his jaw clenched under the strain of supporting Chester.

  “We can run ahead and get help. Let him rest a bit.” Martin took off at a sprint and Neil joined the race.

  Owen watched them go. The pain in his chest kept him from running after his friends, so he lowered himself to the parallel lines in the center of the pavement. Daniel dropped to his knees, and Chester crumpled under the loss of support. Fearing the worst, Owen watched for chest rise, like the detectives in his favorite mystery novels. Relief washed over him when he spotted the movement. Chester hadn’t died yet, and Owen hoped he’d be able to hang on until help arrived.

  The sun crept across the sky and the two-headed dog paced just inside the forest. Owen watched the animal’s movements and willed his friends to return. After what felt like hours, a siren wailed in the distance. The noise grew louder with every moment, and soon an ambulance came screaming around the corner. It screeched to a stop in front of Daniel and Chester, and men poured out of the vehicle and rushed to Chester’s side.

  Owen stayed out of the way while the medics stuck a needle in Chester’s good arm, bandaged his wounds, and loaded him onto a stretcher.

  Before they shut the doors on the back of the ambulance, one of the men waved to Owen. “Come on! Get in! We’ve got room for one more.”

  Owen struggled to stand. Pain shot through his chest with the movement, and he gasped.

  “You all right?” The medic asked.

  Tired and in pain, Owen nodded. He let the men help him into the back of the ambulance.

  “Well, let’s get you to the hospital so the docs can check you out.” The neatly dressed man slammed the back door. When he had taken his seat and strapped himself in, the sirens wailed again and the vehicle lurched into movement.

  Relief and worry circled in Owen’s mind. He hoped Chester would be all right, but his eyes stayed riveted to the small window at the front, where he could see the town come into view.

  Home. He was home. Tears burned his eyes, and this time, he let them fall. He would see his mom again. He’d have supper at home, and sleep in his own bed. He wished the ambulance would go faster, and vowed to never set foot in the forest ever again.

 

 

 


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