by L. S. O'Dea
Tammie picked up the pitcher of water and went to the counter to fill it but the bucket was empty. She grabbed a torch and headed toward the fire to light it.
“What are you doing?” Trinity asked.
“We need water for the night.” Tammie lifted the two empty buckets.
Trinity glanced out the window. It was dark. They shouldn’t leave the house until light. She stood. “I’ll go.”
Relief washed over Tammie’s face but she quickly shook her head. “No. We need to get used to the dark.” She lit the torch.
“You’ll have to get used to it soon enough, but not tonight.” She took the buckets from Tammie.
“I’ll go.” Travis groaned as he stood.
She and Tammie exchanged another look.
“You take care of him and I’ll get the water,” she said.
“You may have the easier job,” said Tammie under her breath.
She laughed and headed for the door.
“Don’t forget your torch.” Tammie held it out for her.
She hesitated. She could tell them now that she could see in the dark. It wasn’t scary like her claws and fangs, but it might make them watch her more closely and she didn’t need that. Today during training had been bad enough. She’d had to slow down her reaction time so that she didn’t stand out too much. Mirra had not been happy with her and she’d received more than one swat on the back of the head. She took the torch. “Thanks. I must be more tired than I thought.”
She stepped outside and headed toward the river. With this fire she might as well scream, Dinner’s served come and get it to any nearby predators. She should douse the flame in the dirt but that might cause questions. She’d be fine as long as she hurried.
She made it to the river and filled up the buckets. She was on her way back when she heard it, a slight whisper in the vegetation near the fence. She stilled. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Something was out there and it was watching her. Gaar had said predators feared fire. She put down the buckets and faced the fence, waving the torch. Two eyes glowed red in the night. She sniffed. Cold Creeper. She needed to get inside and quick. The fence would probably keep it out, but she wasn’t positive. It may dig under or climb over. Its skin looked thick enough to handle the barbed wire. Worse than that, if it was traveling in a group they might be able to pull down a section of the fence.
She left the buckets and headed toward the house. A loud clang shattered the night. The Cold Creeper had hit the chain-link. She had to get out of sight now. She doused the torch in the dirt and raced to the nearest building. It was the one where Travis and the others had been kept. She couldn’t go in there again; she just couldn’t. She ran to the next building and slipped inside.
She leaned against the door, breathing heavily. A group of Producers sat on the floor staring at her. They were sitting on beds of blankets and had a few candles burning.
“Who’s there,” called out one of them, a female.
“Trinity.” She stepped out of the shadows into the room.
“Go away.” Mirabelle stood.
“I’ll leave in a few minutes. There’s a Cold Creeper outside the fence.” At their blank stares she explained, “A predator.”
“So, you brought it here?” Mirabelle’s voice was shrill.
“No. He’ll wander away if he doesn’t see or smell anything interesting.”
“I don’t believe you. You need to leave. This is your fault.”
She wanted to argue but Mirabelle was right. The predators were lurking around because of the dead Guards from the other day and without the Guards there was no one there to chase away the predators.
“Why couldn’t you have stayed at camp like you were supposed to?” Mirabelle’s voice cracked.
“I’m sorry you’re upset, but you’re better off free than you’d ever be with the Guards here.”
“That’s a lie. The Guards protected us and fed us and they were going…to fix me.”
“No, that’s the lie. They were going to kill you.”
“Stop it, stop it.” Mirabelle rushed forward and grabbed her by the arm, shoving her toward the door. “You need to go. Now!”
“Don’t do this. It’s too soon. The Cold Creeper is still nearby and there might be more than one.” She struggled but the other girl was bigger and stronger.
“I don’t care.” Mirabelle opened the door.
She was not going outside. She lashed out, sinking her claws into Mirabelle’s arm. The other girl screamed and dropped her hold. She darted to the side. They’d have to catch her if they wanted to throw her out and she was faster than any Producer, especially in a tight space.
“You cut me.” Mirabelle stared at the wound. “Those marks aren’t from a knife.”
Four punctures made at once. Nope, it wasn’t a knife. She’d done it now. She’d exposed her secret. Mirabelle would tell the others in the morning. Her friendship with Tammie and Travis would end. Her eyes burned and she blinked back the tears. She was done crying. Too bad she wasn’t done being alone.
“I should have listened to Clarabelle. She always said that you were…”
She braced for the word. She knew it was coming and no matter how many times she’d heard it, it still hurt.
“Different. Really, really different,” finished Mirabelle, her voice lowering.
Mirabelle had balked at calling her a freak, but it didn’t matter. The news would spread fast and her friendships would be gone. She looked at her claws. She’d never get past a Producer’s fear of predators and she was a predator. She might as well go to Hugh. There was nothing left for her here.
CHAPTER 20
TRINITY SAT OUTSIDE, staring into the forest. It was dawn and Mirra wasn’t back yet. Last night after her confrontation with Mirabelle, she’d returned to the Guards’ building. Tammie and Travis had been heading out the door to find her. She hadn’t even considered that they’d do something like that. It could have been disastrous, but luckily, she’d been right and with nothing to smell or see the Cold Creeper had wandered away. She’d explained about the predator but not what had happened with Mirabelle. So, now she waited. She waited for Mirra to return. She waited for Gaar to come back, her fate decided and she waited for Mirabelle to tell everyone what a freak she was.
“Open the gate.” Gaar stood by the fence.
Relief washed through her. At least if the others sent her away, she wouldn’t be alone. She ran to the gate and unlocked it.
“Let’s eat. I’m hungry.” He headed toward the back section of the yard.
She tagged after him. “Mirra left last night and hasn’t returned.”
“She does that sometimes.”
“You made good time,” she said.
“The Guards are still following our trail so they weren’t in this section of the forest.” He stopped by a tree and opened his sack, pulling out some food. “Soon, they’ll spread out, searching for scent. We need to be gone by then.” He sat and began eating, his face drawn and tight.
She took some bread and fruit. Something was wrong, but there was no point asking him. He’d tell her in his own time.
When he was done, he set his plate aside and said, “When I arrived in town there was a note from Benedictine.”
She stopped chewing, the bread heavy and dry in her mouth.
“I met with him. He wants us to find you.”
“You work for Benedictine too?”
“No, and I don’t know how he knew to contact me. I asked Hugh but he didn’t know either. I think he has his suspicions though. Hugh Truent is a smart man. A good man to have as your friend.” His black eyes watched her closely.
He wanted to send her to Hugh. She turned away, tossing her bread toward the trees.
“The problem is I don’t fully trust him,” he continued. “He is too much like his father.”
Or, he didn’t want her to go. “Okay?” she said, facing him again.
“It’s dangerous for you. Since someone told
Benedictine about Mirra and me, then someone besides Hugh and Benedictine wants you. I don’t think we can keep you safe. Not even in the mountains.” He leaned forward, taking her hands in his large ones. “Listen carefully. You can stay with us and we’ll do everything in our power to protect you, but I don’t think we’ll be able to.” He took a deep breath. “I think you should go to Hugh.”
She slipped free from his grasp and slumped against the tree. He wanted her to leave. “You just said that we couldn’t trust Hugh.” She couldn’t stop the trembling in her voice. Even though everyone here would soon know her secrets, she’d hoped that some of them would see past her teeth and claws to the girl who’d risked everything to save them.
“I also said he is a good friend.” He held up his hand. “No wait. There’s more. Hugh has your mother and someone called Tim. Hugh said that Tim’s your father.”
“He has Mom and Dad?” Her parents were alive. “Are they okay? Has he hurt them?”
“I doubt it. Hugh isn’t the type to hurt those under his protection.”
She could go home. Well, not home, but she could be with her parents again. Later, when it was safe, they could escape from Hugh and make a new life in the forest. They could join up with Travis and the others and if the Producers didn’t accept her, she’d at least have her parents.
“I think that Hugh is your best chance. We can lose the Guards for a while but we can’t run forever and I don’t know what else Benedictine or the other unknown Almighty will try,” he continued.
“You think they will keep hunting me?”
“I do.” Sadness shone in his eyes.
“Why? Just because I escaped? If that’s the case then what are they going to do to me when they find out about the Finishing Camp?” Sweat trickled down her back. She was in so much trouble.
“I don’t think this is about your escape. Only Benedictine would care about that, and if it were just Benedictine after you, we could protect you but the others…well, that’s a different story.”
“Will you still keep them safe?” She tipped her head toward the Producers who were just now coming out of the buildings.
He sighed in resignation. “I’ll do my best.”
It was all she could ask. “Okay. I’ll go to Hugh.”
“Hello, again.” Birdie landed on a tree limb above them.
“Not you.” Gaar’s shoulders slumped.
“Is that any way to treat your old friend?” asked Birdie.
“Hi, Birdie,” she said, smiling. The odd little creature cheered her up. Maybe, it was because he was silly and harmless, but more than likely it was because he exasperated Gaar so much.
“You are looking good, little Producer. I see your friends have not eaten you yet.” He chirped amusedly at his own joke.
She frowned. That was not funny.
“We’ll eat you, if you don’t watch it,” snarled Gaar.
“You have to catch me first,” said Birdie, flapping his wings. “Last time I checked, you and your pet couldn’t fly.”
“Let’s go.” Gaar packed up what was left of the food and headed toward the river.
Birdie followed them, flitting from tree to tree or bush to bush.
“Don’t you have something better to do?” asked Gaar.
“Nope,” said Birdie. “Did you meet with Hugh? Did you think about what I said?” He paused and in a stage whisper said, “About the Producer. She would be better off with Hugh.”
“I can hear you, Birdie.” Gaar was right. The little Avion was annoying.
“All the better,” said Birdie. “You should decide. Benedictine is bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. You should go to Hugh.”
“I am,” she said.
Gaar shot her a look that clearly said shut up. She grimaced. She’d forgotten that Birdie was a chatterbox.
“Good. Good news. I like you, little Producer. You gave Birdie bread. Birdie doesn’t forget.” He tapped his head with the tip of his wing.
They stopped at the river to get a drink. Birdie landed on a nearby bush.
“Uhh,” said Birdie. “Where are the Guards?”
“None of your business,” said Gaar.
“I think the Handler has been up to no good,” said Birdie. “Bad, bad Handler.” Birdie laughed at his own joke.
“It wasn’t his fault.” She didn’t want Gaar getting blamed for the deaths of the Guards. It had been her mistake.
“Hush, Little One,” said Gaar. “I told you Avians are notorious gossips.”
Birdie puffed out his feathers. “I told you. I don’t tell tales.”
“Harrumph.” Gaar walked toward the buildings.
She followed and Birdie flew alongside them.
“You can trust me. When are you going?” asked Birdie in a hushed tone.
“Don’t,” warned Gaar.
She shot him a quick glare. She wasn’t going to say anything else. She wasn’t stupid. Suddenly, Gaar stopped and she slammed into his back. It was like hitting a brick wall. She stumbled backward and fell on her butt. “Hey!”
“You know what, Birdie?” he asked, ignoring her.
“No, what?” asked Birdie.
Gaar looked up at the Avian. “We are going to turn Little One over to Hugh, but it’s not safe right now.”
“No, it’s not. There are Guards everywhere,” said Birdie.
“Do you know where they are?” She stood and brushed off her pants. Birdie could be their lookout, a kind of scout.
“Not here. Well, not at this moment anyway,” chirped Birdie.
“Useless,” said Gaar.
“I am not. I know a lot,” said Birdie.
“Like what?” challenged Gaar.
“Like there are eight packs of Guards searching for this one here.” He pointed at her. “There are five or six Guards in each pack and some are already running wild. I don’t know if they’ll ever go back to Benedictine.”
“Then why are they still looking for me?” she asked.
“Because that is what they were told to do and now they want to do it. I do fear, however, that if they catch you, you won’t make it to Benedictine. At least not in one piece.” Birdie performed his imitation of a smile.
She stepped closer to Gaar. There was no way Gaar and Mirra could battle forty plus Guards and win.
Gaar scratched his head. “I don’t know how we’re going to get her safely to Hugh.” When Birdie wasn’t looking, he winked at her. “Do you have any ideas, Birdie?”
She relaxed a bit. Gaar wasn’t worried, so neither was she. Well, not too much.
“Hmmm. That is a problem,” said Birdie. “What if you traveled at night?”
“Guards hunt at night,” said Gaar.
“Ahh. Yes. That they do. What if…no that won’t work. Can you fly, by any chance?” asked Birdie.
“No, she can’t fly,” said Gaar disgustedly.
“Of course not. Hmmm.”
“You can though,” hinted Gaar.
“What? Yes. Yes, I can fly but I don’t see how that would help. Unless...” He flew down near her. “Climb on my back. I can carry you.”
Her mouth dropped open. Birdie was the size of a loaf of bread and he didn’t look all that strong.
“You can’t carry her,” snapped Gaar.
Birdie fluttered to a nearby branch. “No, I suppose not.” He shook his head. “I don’t see how I can be of any help.”
Gaar sighed. “You could carry a message.”
“Oh. Yes. Yes, I could do that,” he chirped excitedly. “I could carry a message to Hugh for you.” He chirped again. “That rhymes. Hugh for you, Hugh for you.”
“Yes. Yes, it does, Birdie.” Gaar shook his head. “Now, I’m talking like him.”
She giggled. She couldn’t help it. Gaar glared at her. She choked back another laugh.
“Tell Hugh to meet us at his cabin in five days,” said Gaar.
“Okay. Will do,” said Birdie, not moving.
“Bye, Birdie,” said Gaar.
“Oh, yes. I’ll be on my way.” Birdie flew into the air. “Now, you owe me two favors, Handler.”
“Is Hugh’s cabin far from here?” she asked once Birdie was out of site.
“If we could travel normally, it would take about two days, but since we’ll be avoiding Guards and escorting a group of Producers I gave us four.” He smiled. “I can’t wait to see Hugh’s face when he learns he now has not one escaped Producer but over seventy.”
A scream echoed through the forest.
She grasped his arm. “Wh...what was that?”
He stood straight and still, frozen in place. “Mirra,” he whispered as he jerked away from her. “I must go to her.”
“I’m coming with you.” That sound was one of pain. Extreme pain.
“No. You’ll slow me down.” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Get inside and wait here. Don’t come out.”
He ran to the fence and she followed. Another scream rang out. If possible, this one was worse than the last. He unlocked the gate and stepped through, stopping.
“If I’m not back by morning then flee to Hugh’s cabin. Follow the river back toward the Lake of Sins but instead of going there head north into the forest. He’ll have his Guards watching for you.” His eyes were filled with fear. “I must go to her.” He headed into the brush and in a moment was gone, swallowed by the forest.
CHAPTER 21
JACKSON WALKED INTO the Guards’ building at the Tracker camp. “Sir, everything is ready.”
Benedictine stopped pacing and faced him. “You’re sure this will work?”
How could he be sure? He’d never caught a Tracker before. Shit, before a couple of days ago he hadn’t known that they still existed which was its own problem. As Benedictine’s Lead Guard, he should have been informed about the camps. If Benedictine no longer trusted him, his life was in danger. This was the perfect opportunity to prove his worth. “I believe so.”
